Operation Hero's Watch

Chapter 5

“You could have mentioned she was more to you than your friend’s sister,” Rafe said casually, quietly.

Jace felt a jolt at the words and with a touch of panic tried to gauge if Cassie could have heard him over there in the kitchen. She never faltered in her writing, so he guessed not. Then he looked back at Rafe and realized this was a man who would know exactly how far his voice would or would not carry.

“She’s not,” he said. At least, she wasn’t. “I mean, I liked her, enough to tease her a lot. Like she was my sister, too. Cory said she...kind of had a crush on me. You know, the kind of thing that happens with teenage girls.”

“She’s not a teenage girl now.”

Jace glanced at her. “No kidding. I never thought she’d grow up like...that.”

“Nothing sisterly about her now.”

Jace swallowed tightly. “No. No, not a thing.”

“Except that promise.”

His gaze shot back to Rafe’s face. “Yeah. That promise.”

He’d made that promise to Cory, to take care of his sister if ever he couldn’t. To look out for her, help her if she needed it.

“Doesn’t sound like her brother’s the type to keep them.”

“Depends how much it costs him.” The rather cynical observation was out before he thought. His mouth tightened ruefully. What was it about this guy—and that blessed dog—that made him say things he normally would never say? Especially to someone he’d just met?

“Some would say that lets you off the hook.”

Jace’s brow furrowed. “Why? I made the promise, not Cory.”

The slightest of smiles flitted across the other man’s face. “And that you make that distinction is why I’m here. You’re the kind of person Foxworth helps. Cory, not so much.”

Jace was saved from responding by Cassie’s return. She handed Rafe the list of names. “You swear they won’t ever know?”

“As long as they’re not involved in whatever this is, they won’t have a clue,” Rafe promised. Somehow Jace thought the guy would deliver on that.

“And if they are?” she asked, warily. “If someone on this list—” she sounded extremely doubtful “—turns out to be my stalker, what then?”

“That’s up to you,” Rafe answered.

“Me? Not...the police?”

Rafe gave a one-shouldered shrug. “We work with the police, often. They like us because we share what we can, sometimes things they don’t know. If it becomes a police matter, we cooperate. And if it turns into something big for them, we don’t want the credit. But we’re not bound by their rules, which sometimes cripple them. And we work for you.”

Cassie still looked uncertain. Jace couldn’t really blame her; he’d seen the Foxworth setup, had watched as Rafe had started certain wheels in motion, and he still couldn’t quite believe it all.

“Think of it like this,” Rafe suggested. “Imagine finding out it’s a friend with a misguided but innocent reason. That would make you feel differently than if it’s some unbalanced stranger with a fixation.”

“Oh.” She grimaced. “Yes. I see what you mean.”

“If it is that...stranger,” Jace began.

“Then we’ll deal,” Rafe said. “I’ll get the process of elimination started with our tech guy. But there’s one more thing. We all need to be clear on what the goal is here.”

“Keep Cassie safe,” Jace said instantly.

“Catch him,” Cassie said simultaneously.

Startled, Jace stared at her. “Cassie,” he began.

She looked at Rafe as if for support. “The one accomplishes the other, right?”

“Yes,” Rafe agreed, “but I’d say Jace’s goal has to come first. Your safety is paramount.”

“Exactly,” Jace agreed. And he was suddenly relieved that they had this man on their side, to accomplish just that. But then Rafe spoke again and blasted all other thoughts out of his head.

“So Jace should stay here with you. Just seeing you’re not alone should slow this guy down.”

Cassie frowned. Which made Jace frown and refocus. Was the idea of him under her roof that distasteful? Did she—

“But won’t that just make him wait?” she asked, snapping him back to reality, where it seemed the idea of him under her roof didn’t matter at all. And he wasn’t sure that didn’t bother him even more.

Feeling suddenly contrary, Jace said, “If I stay long enough, he’ll move on, won’t he?”

“Depends on his goal,” Rafe said. Then, sounding almost weary, he added, “Some fixations can withstand both time and logic.”

Cassie studied the other man for a moment. Then, quietly, she said, “You’ve dealt with this kind of thing before, then.”

“Yes. Foxworth has dealt with several stalking cases.”

“I mean you, personally.”

Again the shrug. “Three.”

“And how did they end up?” Jace asked.

“One misunderstanding. One in jail.” He stopped.

“And the third?” Cassie prompted.

Jace watched Rafe meet her gaze. “Dead.”

If the Foxworth man had thought she would crumple, he’d misjudged her. Jace hadn’t. He knew Cassidy Grant was made of sterner stuff than that. Still, he stayed silent, curious to see how she responded.

“Since I doubt you’re the type to indiscriminately kill, I presume it was necessary.”

Rafe’s voice was barely above a whisper. “There are some who would say I’m exactly that type.”

Jace had the sudden feeling this was about something else entirely. And that if this man had killed, as he’d said, it was not something he did lightly. And he would carry the responsibility of it forever. Jace was certain of it in the same way he was certain that his father was the most irresponsible man on the planet, if indeed he still was on it.

For the first time since he’d taken a position at Cassie’s side, the dog moved. He padded silently over to the man with the haunted eyes and nudged his hand. And again without a look, with the appearance of a habit long ingrained, Rafe put his hand on the dog’s head.

“Thanks, buddy,” he murmured. “I’m okay.”

Jace glanced at Cassie, who was watching the pair intently.

“All right,” she said suddenly. “What else do you need me to do?”

“Go about your business. Jace, stay close.”

“And you?” Jace asked.

“I’ll be around. Never far.”

“I only have one guest room, but there’s a foldout couch in—”

She stopped as Rafe shook his head. “I need to be outside. Able to move.”

“But at night—” Cassie began to protest.

“At night most of all.”

Jace was hit with a sudden certainty that under cover of night, this man could be one of the deadliest predators that walked.

“It’s November. It’s cold at night,” Cassie protested.

Rafe smiled at her. “I’ll survive.”

“And it won’t be the first time, will it?” Jace asked, already knowing the answer.

“Nor likely the last,” Rafe said, meeting his gaze. Then, in the tone of someone used to thinking in such ways, he said, “He’ll be checking you out, assessing.”

Jace nodded. “How should I play it? Tough or wimp?”

Rafe grinned, and Jace felt oddly as if he’d won some sort of award. “In between, I think. Let him wonder. Who you are, and how capable you are.” He gave Cassie a glance that looked apologetic. “We can’t be absolutely certain he doesn’t at least know your brother, so I don’t think that pretense would work.”

“Bodyguard?” Jace asked.

“That implies training and will make him more cautious,” Rafe said. He glanced from him to Cassie. “Boyfriend, I think, if you can pull it off.”

Jace groaned inwardly. Then he nearly frowned, because he didn’t understand why he’d reacted on such a gut level to what was a logical solution.

“But if he’s been watching me, won’t he know I don’t have one?” Cassie asked, apparently unruffled by the idea.

“You’re sure it’s only been three weeks?” Rafe asked.

“I think so. But like I said, I might not have realized it right away.”

“I’m guessing you picked up on it pretty quickly. Say, maybe three days of seeing him repeatedly at the most. So we’ll go with three weeks.”

“Which means?” Jace asked.

“He wasn’t around when we got here today. He could be watching from a distance, but if he is, he won’t be sure what’s going on. For all he knows, I just picked your boyfriend up at the airport after a trip somewhere that started just about when he started watching you.”

“So we’re having a joyous reunion,” Jace said. He kept his voice carefully even, but he heard a tiny sound from Cassie, as if she’d only just realized what this was going to involve. “Together every minute because I’ve been gone.”

“Something like that, yes,” Rafe agreed.

“I don’t know...” Cassie began before Jace turned to her.

“You can do it, Cassie.” He managed a wry grin. “Just look at me like you did when you were sixteen.”

He saw her stiffen, draw herself up. Ah, there was the Cassie he remembered, quiet but strong.

“Oh, I wasn’t worried about that.” Her tone was as light as her posture was determined. “I can make cow eyes at you just like I used to. I was more worried about you, pretending to look at me like that.”

“I’ll manage.”

And he would. All too easily.

He was just going to have to be careful it didn’t become real.

* * *

Cassidy was feeling a little like a spoiled child. She’d been scared, had wanted help, had called for help and now that it was here, she was unhappy about it.

I just never expected he would move in, and we’d have to pretend to be...lovers.

The very thought made her shiver and reminded her too sharply of the days and nights when she had pined after Jace with all the longing of an infatuated teenage heart. And that moment when he’d said he bought flowers for his mom, and she’d felt a jab of cheer that he hadn’t mentioned a girlfriend.

She distracted herself by studying the cell phone Rafe had given her, a twin to the one he’d given Jace, after she’d explained why she’d been afraid to use hers.

“He may not be savvy enough to hack your phone, but it can’t hurt. But we need communications,” he’d said and gone out to his car and opened the trunk. When he came back, he’d had the two phones. “They’re Foxworth,” he’d explained as he showed them how they worked. “And as unhackable as a phone can be. They also function as a direct connection, so if anything happens I need to know, or if you’re in trouble, you’ve got one-button contact.”

Somehow this man saying it made it seem more real than even that night when the shadow outside her bedroom window had so terrified her.

They’d then spent another hour going over things she never would have even thought might be connected. The business, finances, other relatives, even any lingering threads from her parents’ deaths.

“I’ve got some things to check,” Rafe finally said. He looked at Jace. “You’ve got first watch. Stay with her, keep that phone handy and don’t hesitate to use it. I’ll call you when I take over, then you can get some rest.”

“What about you?” Cassidy asked.

“Don’t worry about me,” Rafe said and headed for the back door she’d shown him earlier. Cassidy wondered who did worry about him. “I’m going to check around outside first. Cutter, with me.”

The dog spun on his hind legs and was at Rafe’s side in a single leap. Gone was the quiet, gentle, soothing animal she’d seen so far; this was a working dog now, and the difference was startling. Dog and man made an impressive team, and yet again the word that occurred to her was intimidating.

And then they were gone, so quietly she wasn’t certain at first that they hadn’t just stayed on the back deck.

“Wow,” she said, a little taken aback. “You really called in the cavalry.”

“Ex, maybe,” Jace agreed. “But I told you, he found me. Well, the dog did.”

She smiled at that. “Not sure what I think of that dog. He’s almost spooky, the way he seems to sense things.”

“Rafe says he still surprises them all the time. At home he patrols the neighborhood twice a day, and last month he stole the cell phone of a neighbor so she’d come after him, because she had a problem Foxworth could help her with.”

Cassidy blinked. “And just how did he know that?”

“No idea.”

“Have you looked them up?”

“No.” His mouth twisted again. “No phone, remember? But we stopped at their office on the way here. Pretty impressive setup. They’ve even got a helicopter, and apparently a small plane at the local airfield.”

“Fancy place?”

“No, not at all. Kind of hidden in the trees, not even a sign. Rafe says they work mostly by word of mouth. And lately, the dog.” She laughed. Jace shrugged. “Yeah. Sounds crazy, but here I am.”

A sudden warmth filled her. Yes, he was. She’d called, and he’d come. Just like he’d promised. “You’re still a good guy, Jace Robinson.”

He’d been looking at the new phone, but now his head came up sharply. “Not Robinson. Not anymore.”

Cassidy blinked. “What?”

“I don’t use...his name anymore.”

For a moment she just stared at him, unsure what, if anything, she should say to that. She’d always known he and his father didn’t get along and suspected from some things both her parents and Cory had said that he wasn’t a pleasant guy. And then Jace had started taking judo lessons with Cory, and she’d wondered again if there was more to it than just a guy’s fascination with martial arts. But then he’d started winning competitions, and he rarely mentioned his father anyway, so she’d kind of forgotten.

“Okay,” she finally said, knowing she sounded rather lame but unable to think of anything else to say.

“That’s it? ‘Okay’?” He looked at her steadily, as if daring her to question him.

She kept her voice even. “I assume you had good reason. From what little I knew of your father, I think I understand.”

He let out a breath, relaxing a little, and she wondered what others had assumed. That he was some career criminal looking for a new start, or some victim of media overreach looking for anonymity?

“I had it legally changed when my mom went back to her maiden name, Cahill.”

“So you’re Jace Cahill now?”

He nodded.

“Sounds good together,” she said, meaning it. She left it at that. “By whatever name, thank you for coming. I feel a little silly now. It sounds so crazy when I say it to someone else—” She stopped when he held up a hand.

“I’m sure most stalking victims think it sounds crazy until they find out it’s true. And better you take steps and it turns out not to be anything than not and it does. Or something.” He gave her that crooked smile that had always sent her pulse racing. It still did, and she looked down, a little embarrassed that after all this time he could have this effect on her.

She supposed she shouldn’t be. He had the same bright blue eyes and that same sweetly crooked smile. His body was still tall and lean, and he still had that way of shoving one hand in his jeans pocket that made her hyperaware of the lean maleness of his hips. The fact that he looked older now, a bit older even than she knew he was, only made him more attractive. True, he looked a bit careworn, his hair longer and a bit shaggy, his jeans frayed and faded, his jacket torn on one side, his boots worn and with what looked like a strip of duct tape across one toe. Then again, people paid lots of money for just that look in a futile effort to appear cool.

But that kind of guy didn’t travel over a thousand miles to keep a silly promise to look out for his friend’s younger sister.

“Let’s get you settled in,” she said, making an effort at sounding brisk and efficient, and succeeding somewhat. “Are you hungry?”

“Starved,” he admitted with a rueful twist of his mouth.

“Then aren’t you lucky I made spaghetti sauce yesterday,” she said lightly.

As if on cue his stomach growled. And it made his protest that she didn’t have to do that sound like exactly what it was, a token.

“You came all this way to help me, the least I can do is feed you.” She led him down the hall. He glanced at a doorway as they passed—Cory’s old room. “It’s still Cory’s,” she said, “not that he uses it anymore. He just stores a lot of junk in there. I can’t get him to clean it out.”

“I still remember those bunk beds your dad built. I always thought that was so cool. Not just the beds, but that he built them himself.”

He had always liked them, she remembered. And she remembered his reaction when he’d first looked at the footboards her father had carved. Hey, wings! Cory had looked at him blankly, even her father had seemed puzzled, but she had seen what he meant—the angle of the design did look like seagull wings.

“He was a very handy guy,” she said softly.

“I’m sorry,” Jace said. “I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.”

“They’re not painful,” she assured him quickly. “I love that people remember him like that. Most people don’t talk about them, and it feels like they’ve forgotten they ever existed.”

They’d reached the door to the guest room. “I moved into the master,” she said. “After a year or so. It seemed silly not to, if I was going to keep the place.”

Funny, when she’d decided to move back into this house after her parents had been killed in that accident, she’d thought she would find it too big, too full of memories for her to ever relax. And yet she’d found it strangely comforting.

“Only makes sense,” he said. “And you’ve made it yours.”

“I’ve tried.” She had redone many things, added her own touch.

“Besides, it’s not like being somewhere else is going to stop the memories. They’re in you. Places just trigger them.”

She stared at him. “Yes. Exactly.”

It wasn’t that she was surprised; Jace had always had depth to him. One of those memories he’d just mentioned flashed into her mind, of her sixteen-year-old self saying to her mother how much more mature—that was a popular word to her then—he seemed than Cory.

“He is,” her mother had said, a touch of sadness in her voice. “His father is...a difficult man.”

She had wondered for an instant if the sadness was for Jace or that Cory wasn’t as mature. Decided it had to be for Jace, because she was sure Cory would eventually catch up. She’d been wrong about that, but at the time she’d been certain.

“But his mom’s so sweet,” she’d said.

“Yes. Which makes it even more difficult.”

She hadn’t understood then. But when her father had come home with the news that Jace and his mother had moved away because his father had left them, she thought she did.

“Can I ask you something?” she said when they were in the guest room, he’d dropped his worn pack on the bed and she’d shown him where clean towels were.

“You can always ask,” he said.

Doesn’t mean I’ll answer. She heard what he didn’t say but went ahead. “When your mom moved away, you were... eighteen.” He nodded, giving her a curious look. “I was just wondering...you had that job at the lumberyard, and your friends here...” She trailed off awkwardly.

“You mean why did I go with her?”

“Yes.”

He leaned against the small dresser, crossing his ankles and his arms. Defensively? she wondered. “Thinking I was a mama’s boy who couldn’t be away from her?”

Yes, definitely defensively. “I never thought that. Ever.”

He let out an audible breath. “She needed help. I couldn’t just walk away.”

“Especially after your father did.”

His gaze narrowed. “You know that, then.”

She smiled apologetically. “I’m afraid the whole neighborhood did.”

He grimaced. “I figured.”

“We all knew your dad was...”

“An assh—”

He cut himself off. She found herself wondering if he’d done it to avoid being foul in front of her, or if he really didn’t like calling his father crude names, even if they fit. Either way, it only made her more certain Jace Rob—Cahill was exactly the guy she remembered. The good guy she remembered.

Unfortunately, she thought as she left him to get settled, that also meant he was still the guy she’d had her first-ever serious crush on. The guy whose thick-lashed eyes had stirred her to sighs, and whose lean, broad-shouldered body had caused feelings in her she hadn’t even recognized. The guy all others since had had to measure up to, and usually failed.

And from what she’d seen—and felt—so far, that hadn’t changed a bit.

Chapter 6

Jace listened to her footsteps as she went back down the hall. He was feeling a little off balance, here in this house where he’d spent many hours as a kid. It had been a revelation to him then, that not all parents fought constantly, that in some homes, children were appreciated and encouraged by their father, not a nuisance to be rid of as often as possible.

I didn’t mean to break it, Mr. Grant, really. Please...

His own heartfelt plea as he stood over the shards of the flower pot he’d inadvertently shattered with the baseball he and Cory had been tossing. Cory had told him to burn it in and he had, but Cory had panicked at the last second and dodged away.

He remembered cringing when Cory’s father had crouched before him.

I know you didn’t, Jace. It’s all right. It was an accident. Come on in, have some lunch.

He remembered the shock that had filled him at that moment, that not only was Mr. Grant not going to scream curses at him, but that he was still welcome in his house. Remembered even more the look in the man’s eyes, the look he hated and only later had come to recognize as pity.

A wave of weariness swept over him, and he sat on the edge of the bed. It had been a long haul just to get here, and he was afraid Rafe might have been a bit optimistic about him being able to stay awake until he took over. He wondered what the guy was doing, suspected it had something to do with that industrial-strength laptop he’d seen in the car that looked like it could withstand a direct hit from a hand grenade.

The urge to lie down, just for a moment, nearly swamped him. But he was afraid if he did he would be asleep before he hit the pillow.

You’ve got first watch.

Damn, that made it sound so real. He’d known Cassie was scared, but it hadn’t really seemed possible that she was in real danger until Rafe had said that. He was taking this very seriously, and given his demeanor and that look in his eyes, Jace guessed he knew what he was talking about.