Lois Richer - Identity - Undercover

“Thank you.” But the question remained in his eyes.

“Look, Daniel, things happen, change. That’s the way life is. I really am happy for both of you.” She met his stare and held it, knowing he’d see beyond her mask if she let him. “Bad things happened, but I have to get on with living. This case will give me the perfect opportunity to start over.”

“I guess. If that’s what you want.” His amber eyes peered through the black-rimmed glasses, a reprimand lurking in their depths. “You do know Max has contacted me. Several times. I told him what you said, but I felt like a heel doing it.” He touched her arm. “You have to talk to him yourself, Callie.”

“We did talk. Too much.” She shook her head. “I don’t have anything to say that Max Chambers wants to hear. Anyway, it’s too late for talking. The past is over, finished.”

“Who are you trying to convince, sweetie? Me, or you?” Daniel bent, brushed her cheek with a brotherly kiss. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Keep depending on God. He’ll work it out.”

“Yeah.” Like God had done so much for her already. Callie reached up and hugged him. “That’s for you to pass on to Sam. Tell her—tell her to take care. And that I love her.”

“I will.” He stood watching as she stepped into the elevator, a frown disturbing his handsome features.

Well, why wouldn’t he frown? He and Max had been good friends. And she’d come between them.

Memories of that painful era threatened to burst through Callie’s fragile defenses and explode her thinly held self-control. Her defenses weren’t quite as strong as she wanted. Yet.

Determined no one would see her weaken, she stepped out of the elevator and slipped into a nearby ladies’ room where she splashed cold water on her face until she’d regained her composure. Once she was centered and in control again she made her way to the briefing room.

After absorbing a minutiae of details about Josiah Harpnell, Callie glanced up from her file, found Daniel lounging in the doorway, watching her.

“Well?”

“About what I expected. The estate is massive. Less detail on Josiah than usual, but then this case is different for Finders Inc., isn’t it?”

“Every case is different, but we usually have more to go on than what we’ve been able to give you.” He sank down onto a stool opposite her. “Callie, I have to tell Max something. He’s just called again, desperate to get in touch with you.”

And she knew exactly why.

“Maybe you don’t believe me but he’s out of his mind with worry, Callie. He cares about you.”

She couldn’t say anything, simply sat staring at her hands, waiting.

“He’s my friend, honey. Max is the closest thing I’ve had to a brother since Grant died.” His voice begged her to reconsider. “I can’t be your go-between anymore. I’ve got to tell him the truth. The two of you need to talk this out.”

Daniel didn’t know it but there was nothing for them to talk about. He wouldn’t understand that Max was only trying to do the right thing, to adhere to those principles he clung to so strongly. Daniel wouldn’t understand that she couldn’t bear to go back, to look into those eyes and see what lay there—the condemnation he never spoke of.

“Please, Callie. Just see him, let him know you’re all right.”

It was unavoidable and she knew it. The one last thing she had to do before the past was finally over, irrevocably finished.

“When do I ship out?” she whispered.

“Day after tomorrow, 7:00 a.m.”

“Fine. I’ll check out Josiah Harpnell’s estate tomorrow. You tell Max I’ll meet him at the Harbor Café at six-thirty the following morning.”

“I’ll tell him right away.” Daniel’s face beamed. “Thank you, Callie. I promise you won’t regret it.” He rose, turned to leave.

“There’s just one catch.”

Daniel froze, twisted to stare at her, a frown marring his thin face.

“After that it’s over. No more phone calls, no more contacting you about me, nothing.”

Daniel opened his mouth to protest but Callie held up a hand.

“I appreciate all you’ve tried to do, Daniel, but my marriage to Max is over. Those are my terms. If he’s there, I’ll know he accepts them. If he’s not, fine. The choice is up to him.”

While Daniel was still speechless, she gathered up her things, shoved them into her backpack and left the room, the building, to return to the small bleak square that now served as home base.

It was a good thing Shelby had assigned this mission. Otherwise Callie knew there would be little point to the rest of her life.

Someone was watching her.

Callie could feel the burn right through her windbreaker to the back of her neck. But no matter how closely she scrutinized the area, it was impossible to see exactly who it was.

The same thing had happened the day before when she’d visited the estate Josiah would inherit. Whoever it was knew how to keep a low profile.

Truthfully, she’d expected someone to take an interest in her appearance there. Finders already knew someone didn’t want Josiah gaining control of the estate. What they didn’t know was why.

But she’d find out. She always did. And maybe in the meantime she’d discover why they had followed her.

Callie glanced at her watch for the thousandth time and finally admitted what her brain didn’t want to accept.

Max wasn’t coming.

The knowledge burned a hole straight to her heart, but she ignored the pain, paid for her coffee and left the restaurant. As she rounded the corner and moved toward the craft that would transport her to Ketchikan, she had to sidestep a crowd.

Callie wove her way among the group of curious bystanders and fought to get a better look through the throng of shoulders and heads. What she saw made her gasp: four trim, elegant offshore cruisers still tied to the dock lay listing to the west, badly damaged and taking on water faster than it could be bailed out.

“What happened?” she asked the person beside her.

“Problems with the ferry,” he said. “Should never have come near those boats. Must have been something mechanical that made it veer so close. The captain did some very snappy maneuvering to get it docked but not before it scraped those four beauties. The repair bills are going to be astronomical.”

He was right. Even from this distance she could see that repairs to The Marguerite, her ride, were going to take a lot longer than a few hours. Farther down the dock one of the B.C. ferries lay battered and bruised, but securely tied in place.

Callie pulled out her cell phone to tell Shelby she was going to take the ferry to Ketchikan, but paused in the middle of dialing as she caught a fragment of the conversation nearby.

“The ferry’s out of service till the investigation’s complete,” she heard someone behind her grumble. “They say they can’t get a replacement here till late tonight.”

Callie snapped her phone closed, walked away from the mess as she tried to figure out her next move.

“Callie?”

It wasn’t the hand on her arm that made her freeze, it was the voice. Totally devoid of all the assurance Max Chambers’s firm tones had once boasted, his low utterance now sounded hesitant, unsure, as if he was afraid to talk to her. She turned, faced him, and wondered if it had been his eyes she’d felt watching her.

“You’re late.”

It wasn’t the best thing she could have said, but Callie was furious that he’d shown up now, after she’d shoved away hope and the past and begun to concentrate on her job.

“I’m sorry. There’s road construction everywhere. I got caught in a detour. I couldn’t help it.” His eyes—shimmers of dark green with flecks of seafoam, held hers for just an instant before he took in the scene. “What happened here?”