Saving Grace. RaeAnne Thayne
stark grief. He instantly regretted mentioning Marisa Solarez. If Grace had wanted to talk about her child, she would have brought the subject up herself.
She slowly sank back into the chair as if her bones couldn’t support the weight of her pain. “How did you…? Oh. Pham.”
He nodded. “Is that the reason you quit the police force?”
For a moment, he didn’t think she would answer him. She sent him one quick, unreadable look, then gazed out at the relentless water beating away at the shore, her fingers twisting restlessly amid the flowery folds of Lily’s colorful dress.
After several moments, she looked back at him. “I couldn’t do it anymore. I had too much rage, too much hate built up inside me. The department psychiatrist thought I would be a danger to myself and others.” She said the words with bitter self-mockery.
“Have you ever thought about doing any private security consulting work?”
“Excuse me?” She stared at him as if he’d just asked her to climb on the bureau and yodel.
“With your background in police work, I think you would be exceptional at it.”
This wasn’t the first time the idea of hiring her had occurred to him. Since he had brought her here, the idea had percolated in the back of his mind. It was the perfect solution on several levels. It would get her out of that dismal apartment, for one thing. And he would have a better chance of proving whether she participated in the kidnapping—and, if so, of finding the other kidnapper—if she stayed close enough for him to keep a watchful eye on her.
“I suppose you’ve heard by now about my daughter’s kidnapping.” He watched her intently for any sign of guilt—a nervous twitch, a flicker in her eyes—but she returned his gaze without emotion. She was either as cold as an iceberg or she was innocent.
He was almost positive it was the latter. Almost.
“Yes,” she replied. “Your housekeeper mentioned it. I imagine you both must have been terrified.”
His gut clutched in memory. The ransom note had arrived at the office: $500,000. Not much for a little girl’s life.
At first he’d put it down to some kind of sick joke and then his phone had rung with that panicked call from the director of Emma’s preschool saying she hadn’t come in from outside play time and had he somehow come to pick her up without checking in at the office?
Terrified didn’t even begin to describe how he had felt then—that cold, sick, paralyzing fear.
Would he ever be able to let her out of his sight again or hear the phone ring without that jolt of panic?
“How is your daughter handling it?” Grace asked. “It must have been a terrible ordeal for her.”
He uncoiled the lingering tendrils of fear that wrapped around his insides whenever he thought of that day and rested a hip on the edge of the bed, crossing his legs out in front of him at the ankles. “She’s seems to have emerged relatively unscathed.”
“That must be a relief.”
He nodded. Odd how he hadn’t been able to talk about this with anyone else—not even Piper or Lily—but he found himself wanting to confide in this slight, quiet woman.
“I would hate for her to live her life afraid,” he admitted, “but I hope she has gained at least a little healthy suspicion for strangers. She still treats everybody like her best friend, from the garbage man to the bag boys at the supermarket. She probably jumped right in the car with the guy who took her.”
He realized his hand had fisted in the quilt covering the bed and forced his fingers to relax. “If it can happen once, it can happen again,” he went on, “and I want to do everything I can to prevent that. I want to hire you to do everything you can to prevent it from happening again.”
“Is that your gratitude offering me a job, Mr. Dugan?”
“In part. I also hear you were one hell of a cop, that you made detective after just four years on patrol. It seems a shame to waste that hauling dead fish around.”
“My career choices are really none of your business.” That frosty, screw-you tone was back.
“You’re absolutely right. But protecting my daughter is my business.”
“You can’t keep your daughter in a bubble,” she said quietly. “No matter how good your security system is, how many people you hire to protect her, there would still be risks.”
“I know. But I want to do everything I can to minimize them, both here and at my business.”
“Global Shipping Incorporated. Specializing in Far East imports and exports.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “You must have a few snoops of your own.”
“Just Lily. She’s full of information. In fact, if you’re looking for a security leak you might want to start there.”
He grinned at the idea. People didn’t come any more loyal than Lily and Tiny Kihualani. “She must really like you. Usually she keeps her lips sealed up tighter than an oil tanker.”
Instead of returning his grin, Grace just continued regarding him solemnly, and he found himself wondering what it would take to make that lush, kiss-me mouth break into a smile.
He indulged in the possibilities for only a moment then returned to the business at hand. “I’m prepared to pay you well if you take the job.” He named a figure and had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes widen. “That would, of course, include room and board, since the most logical thing would be for you to stay here.”
She shook her head. “That’s certainly a very generous offer, Mr. Dugan, but I’m not interested.”
“Why not?”
She tilted her chin defiantly. “Does it matter?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “It matters to me.”
Her eyes were as cool as her voice now. “I was a police detective, not a security guard. I don’t know the first thing about what you’re asking me to do.”
“You solved crimes, right? I just want you to take it a step further and try to prevent this crime from happening again.”
“I’m not interested,” she repeated.
He studied her, noting the implacable thrust of her jaw, the stubborn light in her eyes. Finally he straightened from the bed. “Don’t give me an answer now. Just think about it for a while. Overnight, maybe. Then, if you’re still not interested in the morning, I’ll have Tiny take you home.”
For long moments after he left the room, Grace stared after him. The room felt colder, somehow, emptier without his presence.
Something about Jack Dugan appealed to her, in a way she hadn’t been attracted to a man in longer than she could remember. It startled her—frightened her, even—the way her heart seemed to catch in her chest and her pulse fluttered wildly when he grinned, when he looked at her out of those green eyes.
Another reason why she absolutely could not take the job, as if she needed more.
Despite what she had told him, she knew she was capable of handling the assignment. Like he had said, she had spent enough time solving crime to have picked up plenty of knowledge about how to prevent it and she had worked enough VIP security detail to give her some idea of how she could make life safer for Jack Dugan and his daughter.
Still, capable was a far cry from expert.
Not that it mattered. No way could she even consider taking the job, not if it involved staying here in this house where there was such love, filled with toys and hugs and laughter.
She couldn’t bear it.
No, the smartest thing for her to do would be to catch a lift in the morning and