Blind Justice Page 9

  “He’s a former lobbyist who recently announced he’s running for the Senate. If I paid more attention to that kind of thing, I might have recognized him sooner.”

  Jeff rubbed his large hands along the steering wheel, his gaze on the road ahead. “A political campaign would give him a strong motive. Maybe Mars was blackmailing Luciano, and told him—or more likely one of his strongmen before they killed him—that you’d seen the photos. Luciano wouldn’t know for sure that you could identify him, but might feel like he couldn’t take the chance.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.” At least they were on the same page where Greg was concerned.

  Jeff looked at her. “Do you think he’d recognize you?”

  “I seriously doubt it. For all the same reasons I mentioned.”

  “I guess it’s a moot point. Whether he knows you or not, you’re still a threat because you can describe the tattoo for the police.”

  “I should probably talk to them.” Again. She couldn’t hold back a sigh. “Unfortunately, without the pictures, there’s no way to corroborate my story. Unless they find other images of him in the studio, or the girl comes forward, all they have is my word that I even saw a photo, let alone that it was really him. Any decent lawyer would shred me in deposition.” Which Greg would know. But maybe he didn’t want anyone casting doubt. The opposition party—and the press—would surely jump on her statement, even without supporting evidence.

  Jeff nodded. “Then maybe we need to get proof.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  “HOW DO YOU propose to do that, short of following him around?” Tara asked from the seat next to Jeff, gracefully draping one lean leg over the other.

  She looked like a rose in the desert, out of place in her drab surroundings, and the memory of their white-hot kiss seared his memory. A mistake, but…damn.

  He fully got why so many men wanted her in their beds. What he didn’t understand was why they didn’t want to keep her there longer. Or was the short-term nature of her past relationships her doing? Maybe she hadn’t wanted anything serious.

  But that wasn’t the vibe he’d gotten from their conversation.

  Still, it was another reason to keep his distance. He wasn’t looking for any kind of romantic relationship right now, but when he was ready, he wanted someone he could envision as a mom. Someone who could commit to both him and his son.

  “I haven’t thought that far ahead yet,” he said. Even if they were in DC and could stalk this Luciano ass-hat, Jeff wouldn’t relish coming face to face with one of her former lovers. A generous term for someone she’d admittedly spent “a few hours” with. He had no desire to imagine her with another man, let alone put a face to the fucker.

  He could, however, acknowledge the courage it had taken to share her past with him. She’d looked about as happy as a root canal patient, but she’d sucked it up and laid out all her dirty laundry for Jeff to see. Laundry that was only considered stained because she was a woman.

  Sometimes the world sucked.

  “What if we could find the pictures?” she asked.

  “I think the police confiscated all that stuff.”

  “Sure, the drive, but not the cloud.” She sat up, her dark eyes sparkling with excitement and intelligence, a potent combination. “What if Mars backed up his work online? A pro like him wouldn’t take the chance of losing any of his images, but an external drive runs the same risk of being stolen or destroyed as his camera and storage cards.”

  Forcing his gaze back to the road, Jeff nodded. “And we have access to a master hacker.”

  “Exactly.” The excitement in her voice made his heart race. Or maybe that was the prospect of getting proof of Luciano’s depravity so they could end this. “If there’s a way to find it, Valerie can. I was thinking we might be able to move things along if we knew where he kept his files.” She tapped her fingers on the armrest.

  “I’m listening.”

  “We could start with Emily.” Tara took a deep breath. “According to her journal, she went through with the shoot. Maybe she got her photos before the police confiscated everything.”

  “Do you know her password?”

  “No, but I’ll bet Valerie can find a way in.” Tara tapped her phone.

  How did she bounce back like that? Jeff didn’t think he was clinically depressed, but the last few months had sapped so much of his emotional energy, he hardly had any left for optimism. Tara brought light into his self-imposed darkness. She made him laugh. She reminded him that there could still be joy in the world, and even briefly distracted him from Evan’s disappearance and Bridget’s death.

  But did he deserve a reprieve when his son was out there somewhere—Jeff refused to believe otherwise—probably scared and helpless, waiting to be found?

  Tara spoke into her phone, interrupting his spiraling thoughts. “You up for some work?” She absently ran a hand through her hair.

  His hands itched with the memory of the silken strands skimming over his fingers. He’d wanted women before, but this craving was next level. Maybe it was the forced proximity or the heightened emotions of the past two days. Whatever it was, he had to shelve it.

  Special ops training had been far tougher than this—and eighty percent mental. Ignoring his attraction to one woman should be trivial.

  “Sending now,” Tara said, tapping on her phone’s screen. “Call me at this number if you find anything.” She listened for a moment. “I appreciate it. When you’re ready, I owe you and Scott a night of babysitting.” Tara glanced at Jeff, her smile fading. “Okay, will do. Thanks!”

  She ended the call. “I sent her all of Emily’s old contact info and social media accounts, and everything I could think of that might help with a password. Chloe won’t go down for a nap until after lunch, so Valerie can’t start right away.”

  “Okay.” Outside, a semi used its engine to brake, emitting a loud rumble. Inside, all Jeff could hear was the beat of his heart. “You like kids?” The words popped out of his mouth without thought.

  “I love them.” Her animated voice tugged at something in his chest. “The world always looks better through their eyes. They’re playful and innocent, they love unconditionally, and they ask the best questions. ”

  Jeff could only nod, his body tight with the need to find Evan, and no outlet for his fear and frustration.

  “Like when my friend Jenna came to visit just before Christmas, her son asked me why I didn’t have any real cats.” Tara shifted in her seat, folding one leg under her. “He didn’t understand what I meant when I said I was allergic to a cat’s dander.” She laughed lightly. “When I explained it was their skin, Robbie wrinkled his nose and asked, ‘Would you like cats better if they didn’t have skin?’”

  In spite of himself, Jeff chuckled. She was right. Kids taught you to see everything differently. That was part of the joy of being a dad. “Last time I saw Evan, he showed me a picture he’d drawn of Bridget. It was basically a stick figure, but with a half-circle on each side of her stick body. I asked what the semi-circles were, assuming they were supposed to represent her…uh, chest.” Jeff’s mood lifted at the memory, even as the ache of missing his little boy sharpened to a fine point. “Evan said, ‘It’s her big butt getting into the shower.’”

  Tara covered her mouth and laughed out loud, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, my God.”

  Her amusement was infectious and Jeff found himself laughing along with her, his chest lifting as if tugged by a helium balloon.

  “I want to meet this kid,” she said, still grinning. “He sounds adorable.”

  “He is.” Jeff wanted his son back more than anything, and introducing him to this remarkable woman who kept surprising him was a close second. Which didn’t fit his plans at all. “He’s great.”

  Tara stroked a hand down Jeff’s arm, and he somehow managed not to drive off the road. “You’ll find him.”

  He almost believed her.

  “Shit.” Jeff’s low curse woke Tara as
the RV slowed.

  Her neck hurt like a bitch from sleeping at an odd angle and her mouth was a desert. According to her phone it was nearly one p.m. No wonder she was hungry. Not that losing her breakfast had helped.

  Everything came rushing back to her as Jeff brought the camper to a complete stop behind an endless sea of cars that disappeared around the curve about a quarter-mile ahead. “Uh-oh.”

  Tara opened the map app on her phone and waited for it to pull up their location as it labored with one bar of cell service. She tapped the red line on their route and read the description entered by other users. “It’s not good. A multi-car crash involving a semi is blocking all three lanes. Looks like there are serious injuries. Just happened about twenty minutes ago.”

  The universe always seemed to have a way of reminding her that things in her own life could be worse.

  “So, we’re going to be here a while.” Jeff tapped out his impatience on the steering wheel. He had to be eager to get to North Carolina and Evan.

  “Yeah, but at least we weren’t involved. We’ll drive away from this.”

  Jeff scoffed and shook his head. “Can you just follow me around and do that all day?”

  Her brows scrunched together. “Do what?”

  He shut off the engine and looked at her, his eyes the rich, golden brown of maple syrup. “Find the bright side in every situation.”

  His intense gaze made her stomach roll. Pushing a strand of hair out of her face, she gave him a saucy smile, opting to treat his words as the jest he’d clearly intended. “I’m sure you couldn’t afford my fee.”

  “Probably not.” He cleared his throat and scanned the area outside the windows.

  A mix of tall trees divided them from northbound traffic on the left, and a tree-topped hill hid the view to the right. In the summer, it was a gorgeous wall of green, but right now the only color came from the winter grass and small groupings of old pines.

  They were a couple of miles from the nearest exit, well and truly stuck until the road was cleared or police created an alternate route.

  “Want a sandwich?” she asked. “I make a mean PBJ.”

  “Sure, thanks.”

  Tara stood and took a step toward the kitchen. With a loud crash, the RV lurched. She stumbled forward, then backward onto her ass with a painful thump. “What the hell?”

  “You okay?” Jeff called, rising from his seat.

  “Fine.” She pushed to her feet, rubbing her rear. “You?”

  He nodded and yanked open the side door. “A car slammed into us. I’ll go check their status.”

  Tara grabbed the first-aid kit and ran after him, snagging her coat from the front seat on her way.

  Outside was chaos. A black Volvo SUV had rammed into the RV’s bumper, crumpling both vehicles. In the front seat, someone with a brown cloud of tight curls slumped over the steering wheel. A little girl sat in a booster seat in the back, her cries audible from inside, her eyes wide with fear and confusion.

  “Jeff.” Tara tossed him the first aid kit over the bent hood of the Volvo.

  He caught it effortlessly and nodded.

  As more cars joined the traffic jam, several people jogged toward them.

  “I can’t get the door open,” he said. “It’s locked.”

  Despite the obvious force of the crash, none of the windows had broken. In fact, from the dashboard back, the car looked fine. Tara knocked on the little girl’s window. “Honey, can you unlock the door?” she called, hoping the girl could hear.

  The child stared at her but stopped wailing. Wiping her damp cheeks, she thought for a moment, and then pressed a button on the armrest. Click.

  Tara opened the door. “Good girl. Are you all right?”

  Her lower lip trembled and she scooped in a shaky breath. “Mama’s hurt.” Tears started up again in earnest.

  “We’re going to get help for her, okay?” Tara reached between the seat and the sidewall to unlock the car from the passenger side. Multiple locks clicked in unison.

  Jeff flung open the mom’s door. “Ma’am?”

  A white woman with her gray hair twisted into a low bun tapped his shoulder. “I’m a doctor. Let me take a look.”

  He stepped aside. “Let me know what I can do.”

  “Call 911.”

  While Jeff dialed dispatch, Tara focused on the girl, who was trying to unlatch her seatbelt. “Just stay here for a minute, okay? I want someone to make sure you’re not hurt.”

  The girl dropped her hands. “Mama,” she said, her voice tight with fear.

  “The doctor’s looking at her now.” Tara smiled. “What’s your name?”

  The girl sniffled and stared at her mom for several seconds, but finally said, “Crystal.”

  “Hi, Crystal. I’m Tara.” Snagging a red, flowered jacket off the floor, Tara held it up. “Are you cold?”

  Crystal nodded and Tara laid it over the girl.

  “How old are you?”

  “Five.” Crystal held out a hand with all her fingers spread, and looked up through dark lashes. “How old are you?”

  The girl’s question made Tara smile. “I’m twenty-nine.”

  “Mama’s older than you.”

  “Oh, yeah? How old is she?”

  Crystal bit her lip and scrunched up her face, eyes closed. “Thirty-two” came out sounding like “firty-two.”

  Up front, the doctor was examining the woman’s eyes with a penlight and asking, “Ma’am?”

  “Do you know your mom’s name?” Tara asked.

  “Neema.”

  “The driver’s name is Neema,” Tara said to the doctor. “She’s thirty-two.”

  The older woman nodded before returning her attention to her patient. “Is the girl injured?”

  “I don’t think so,” Tara said. “Just scared.”

  “Honey,” the doctor said, meeting Crystal’s gaze. “Did your mom fall asleep before the car crashed or after?”

  Crystal bit her lip and flicked her gaze to Tara.

  “It’s all right. The doctor is trying to help your mama.”

  “Before. I yelled at her, but she didn’t wake up.” Crystal started crying again, her nose running.

  “It’s okay, sweetie.”

  “She’s diabetic,” the doctor said over her shoulder, cradling a pendant that was attached to Neema’s neck with a silver chain. “Get me—”

  “I’m an off-duty paramedic,” a deep voice called from behind Tara. “How’s she look?”

  Tara turned to see a barrel-chested Black man in his thirties charging toward her. “I think she’s okay, but I kept her in her seat just in case. Her name is Crystal, she’s five.”

  “Crystal,” Tara said to the girl, “this man is going to make sure you didn’t get hurt, okay?”

  “Don’t leave!”

  “How about I come around the other side and sit with you?”

  The girl nodded.

  “Hang on.” Tara rounded the car and slid into the back seat on the other side.

  Crystal took her hand and Tara gripped it tightly in her own.

  Watching Tara with Crystal did strange things to Jeff’s chest. The paramedic had cleared the little girl, and she and Tara now sat side-by-side in the grass on the side of the road reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar, which Tara had found in the back seat pocket.

  The magnetic quality that drew adults to Tara apparently worked on children too. Actually, that didn’t give her enough credit. It wasn’t some uncontrollable element that she had no say in. She had a way with people, a knack for making them feel welcome, liked, and important. As if they mattered to her and she cared about what happened to them.

  Crystal had trusted Tara immediately. Smart girl.

  Smarter than him. He constantly gave Tara less credit than she deserved. City girl? She was adaptable. Would never get dirty? Obviously not true, since she was currently sitting in the grass with Crystal so the girl could stay in sight of her mother. Not mom material? Again, the
current scene proved him wrong. She had said she loved kids, but seeing her with Crystal made him a believer.

  His arguments for keeping his distance from Tara were crumbling one by one, and it scared the living hell out of him. But nothing changed the fact that she was still in danger, he still needed to be on his guard, and Evan was still missing.

  But what about when this was all over? Did Jeff have to return to Colorado for school? Virginia had engineering programs, and great schools for Evan.

  And Virginia had Tara.

  Don’t be stupid. What was wrong with him, making plans based on a gut-level attraction and a single kiss? He couldn’t rearrange his whole life around a woman who might want nothing to do with him in a month. Or now, for that matter.

  He had saved up all his combat pay for a down payment on a bungalow that currently housed a steady stream of vacationers, waiting for him and Evan to come home. If Jeff switched universities, some of his courses might not transfer. Not to mention the overall cost of living in northern Virginia was higher, though his housing costs would depend on where he chose to live. The GI Bill housing allowance would adjust, but that couldn’t make up for everything.

  Most important of all, Evan and the means to a good nine-to-five job needed to be his focus, not his lackluster love life. Neither Evan nor Tara would get the attention they deserved if he tried to have both.

  He wanted his son to have a mother-figure in his life, but Evan would have a lot to work through once they found him, and the last thing he needed was to get attached to Tara and then lose her too if things didn’t work out.

  Jeff paced the side of the road, unable to help with anything, antsy to get moving, to get to Wilmington. To find his son.

  The doctor who’d stopped to help was talking to a now-conscious Neema, who still sat in the driver’s seat. Two lines of cars had amassed behind them on the freeway, chrome and glass glimmering in the bright afternoon sunshine. A med-evac helicopter had landed about a quarter mile ahead of them ten minutes earlier and lifted off soon after, but the road hadn’t yet cleared.