Heart of a Hero

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Standing next to his wife, Sam said, “Lucky him,” in a voice audible only to Savannah. She gave him a jab in the ribs with her elbow and he laughed. “I’ll behave,” he promised, giving her an affectionate nuzzle. “God knows you’re woman enough for me.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Savannah told him, managing to keep a straight face until after he’d entered his own office.

Dakota caught the tail end of the exchange and felt a fleeting tinge of envy. She’d never enjoyed that sort of relationship with a man, the kind that came with lighthearted teasing and heavy doses of love. Not even with Vincent.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t change your mind,” Rusty told her as he waited for her to enter his office.

“Why?”

“Because I want to help.”

She could almost believe him. He sounded sincere. But she knew the only reason he wanted to help, no matter what he said, was because of the money. What she had in her purse would more than cover any fee he wanted to charge.

“Have a seat.” Rusty gestured to the chair in front of his desk. He closed the door behind her before crossing to his own chair, then waited until she sat before beginning. She looked not unlike a bird on a wire, trying her best to not lose her balance. “Change your mind about going to the police?”

“No.” The retort was immediate and sharp. Her voice softened a shade. “I haven’t. I told you before, I don’t want the police brought in on this.”

She’d seemed genuinely concerned about her son. Why was she so wary of the police? Had the kidnapper contacted her and issued the standard threat about killing the hostage if the police were summoned? She had to know the police were still her first, best bet. “Do you mind telling me why?”

She never flinched as she returned his gaze. “Yes, I do mind.”

Kidnappings were hard enough without facing obstacles provided by the parent. “I can’t help you if you keep things back.”

There was no way to read the look in her eyes. “What about that track record you were bragging about?”

If they were going to get anywhere, she was going to have to get rid of that chip on her shoulder. He tried diplomacy. “Most parents are completely open with us, telling us everything they can in order to help us find their missing children.”

She looked down at her perfectly lacquered nails, torn. Consumed with worry. She wasn’t afraid for Vinny’s safety, she was just afraid of never seeing him again. “What is it you want to know?”

He began with the logical question, taking out the tape recorder he kept in his desk. Cade had few rules, but one of them was that the first interview had to be taped. “Would Vinny’s father kidnap his son? Or have him kidnapped?”

The question passed by her, unheard. She was staring at the tape recorder. “What are you doing?”

She was acting as if he’d put a snake on the table instead of a machine, Rusty thought. “Taping the conversation.”

“Why?” It was a demand, not a question.

“Agency rules. Just a way to keep the facts fresh and on record.”

She wanted to tell him to put it away. She wanted to bolt. But most of all, she wanted Vinny. So she didn’t tell him to get rid of the machine and she didn’t leave. Folding her hands in front of her, exercising extreme control over her worn nerve endings, she looked at him.

“What did you ask me?”

Rusty repeated the question. “Would Vinny’s father kidnap his son? Or have him kidnapped?”

“No.”

In his estimation, she’d answered too emphatically. “No disrespect, but maybe you don’t know the man as well as you think you do—”

Dakota laughed shortly. He had that right. “Truer words were never said, Andreini, but even so, I know he wasn’t the one to take the boy.”

He had to push it to the limit. There was more than one case of a child taken by an estranged spouse in their files. “What makes you so sure?”

She set her mouth grimly. “Because Vinny’s father is dead.” And that was when the trouble had all started, she remembered.

“Oh.” He couldn’t gauge by her tone whether the man’s death had left her bereft or relieved. “I’m sorry.”

She lifted her shoulders carelessly, not about to display any more emotion in front of this stranger than she already had. “Yeah, so am I. He had a lot of faults, but he was a good guy. Or tried to be,” she amended, saying it more to herself than to Rusty.

There was a hell of a lot more to this than she was telling him, Rusty thought. He had to get her to talk to him. And for that, he was going to have to get her to trust him.

He figured he had his work cut out for him.

Chapter 4

Making himself comfortable, Rusty took out the worn notepad he kept in his pocket, the one that seemed to have an endless supply of paper and had been with him since he’d started. If he had one superstition, he would have had to say it revolved around the notepad. Every case he’d entered there had been solved.

“Let’s start with where you work.”

“Why?”

It certainly hadn’t taken long for her defensiveness to kick in again. He’d hoped that maybe she would have put it aside once they’d actually gotten started.

“Because I intend to go there and scout around, maybe talk to a few people.”

She didn’t want him talking to the people she worked with, didn’t want any suspicions being raised. It was her business that this was happening, not anyone else’s.

“There’s no reason for that,” she protested. “Vinny was stolen out of his crib in the apartment, not out of a dressing room.”

He wasn’t sure just what she was alluding to. Maybe she worked at a clothing shop. The one thing he did know was that he had to get her to be more cooperative or this investigation wasn’t going to go anywhere. The woman had to be convinced of the validity of every step he took and to stop challenging each one as it occurred, otherwise this wasn’t going to go anywhere.

Maybe a little personal insight would help. He knew Sam and Savannah wouldn’t mind.

“The woman you passed earlier is Savannah Walters. Her little girl was kidnapped by the wife of someone she worked with at the time of the abduction. Someone she trusted,” he emphasized. He leaned forward, making his point as sincerely as he could. “I need to talk to anyone you’ve had contact with to rule out that possibility.”

Resistance came naturally to her. She’d been resisting for so long that it was second nature to her. “I can rule it out for you right now. I’m not that friendly with anyone at work.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he said under his breath as he jotted something down on his pad.

She raised a brow, immediately on the defensive. “What?”

That had been a slip. It wasn’t like him. Rusty admonished himself as he looked up. “You seem like the private type.”

Dakota frowned slightly. That wasn’t what he’d said originally. “I believe in minding my own business.”

“I still need your place of business.” He indicated an empty line on the form. “For the record. Humor me,” he told her when she didn’t respond.

With a sigh, she gave him the address of the store where she worked in Newport Beach. It didn’t matter really. As soon as she got Vinny back, Dakota already knew she’d be clearing out. Maybe even leaving the country this time, although she hated the thought of doing something that drastic. But to keep her son safe, she was willing to do anything, to go to any lengths. Nothing meant anything to her without Vinny.

Rusty looked down at the name and address he’d just jotted down.

“Neiman-Marcus department store.” It was a store he considered too expensive for even window-shopping. The one in Newport Beach had three stories. “That’s a lot of people to not talk to.” His expression was affable as he asked, “What do you do there?”

“I’m in sales.” It wasn’t what she’d wanted to do with her life, but it was the best she could get under the circumstances. Thinking that he probably thought the job beneath him, she added, “The position of Philosopher King was taken.”

Rusty was surprised at the Aristotelian reference. He didn’t take Dakota for someone who read such dry material. It had put him to sleep that one semester in college. “Don’t you mean Philosopher Queen?”

“No,” she contradicted. “King. A king’s higher.” Her mouth curved just the slightest bit. “I always aim for the best.”

He didn’t doubt it for a moment. She’d struck him as a class act the moment he’d seen her, someone who was accustomed to, and who got, the best. Which had made him wonder what she’d been doing living in his complex. It was a pleasant enough place in which to live and the surrounding area was nice, but there was nothing upper echelon about it. And neither was there about the job she had. Yet she read or at least was familiar with Aristotle. The woman was an enigma.

Rusty moved on to the next item. “I’ll also need a list of friends.”

Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “Don’t you have any of your own?”

She was sharper-tongued and less frantic than she had been last night or even this morning. Had the kidnapper contacted her? And if so, why wasn’t she saying anything?

“Mine won’t help, yours might,” he said dryly.

There weren’t any friends, not here. She couldn’t allow herself to get close to anyone anymore. The woman at the day-care center where she left Vinny had tried more than once to get her to open up, or at least to get together with some of the other mothers, but she had steadfastly remained distant. It was safer that way.

“I told you, I’m a private person.”

His expression was innocent as he studied her. “No friends?”

“No need.”

It was a lie. She had a very real need to share, to lean, and there were friends, but they were all back in Las Vegas and she couldn’t risk contacting any of them. It was like being in the witness protection program without the comfort of safety.

Rusty didn’t buy that answer, either. No one was an island, even if they thought they were. Because of what he’d gone through, his brother Chad had been distant, like Dakota, but even Chad had eventually recognized his own need for contact, for warmth. Rusty reasoned that it would be the same for Dakota.

“Has there been anyone you noticed hanging around in the area lately? Anyone unusual?”

One side of her mouth raised a fraction of an inch as she looked at him. “You mean, other than you?”

She was referring to the times he had tried to get a conversation going with her. “I live there, remember?”

The hint of a smile faded and she shook her head. “No, no one unusual.”

He looked at her steadily. “And no one’s contacted you?”

Her impatience surfaced again. “I already told you they hadn’t.”

Rusty sighed inwardly. He felt like a lawyer with a hostile witness on the stand. It wasn’t usually like this. Most of the time the parent was only too eager to keep talking, hoping that something would lead to their child’s recovery. Doggedly, he pressed on.

As he continued asking questions, he noted that Dakota vacillated between being wary, snappish and wry. Writing down her answers in his own brand of shorthand, Rusty continued to wonder why she would behave in such a fashion, considering the circumstances.

He had no way of knowing that the woman sitting so rigidly in front of him was wrestling with her thoughts and her conscience. Throughout the questioning, she kept trying to decide whether or not to be completely honest and tell Rusty who she believed had abducted her son. But each qualm of conscience brought fear with it. Fear that if Rusty knew who he might be facing, he would back away. And she did need him.

But not telling him might delay finding Vinny. In addition, keeping Andreini in the dark might also prove dangerous to him, if not fatal.

The man had a right to know who he was up against.

But, she insisted silently, she had a right to get back her son.

Dakota played with the tips of her nails and decided, for the time being, to keep silent about the identity of the man who’d cast such a dark shadow over her life for the past two years.

Half an hour later, she saw Rusty close his notepad and hit the stop button on the tape recorder. For now, the questions stopped.

She had a question of her own.

“You haven’t talked about payment.”

He’d never been good when it came to talking about money. As a teenager, because he had always been naturally handy, he had worked on neighbors’ cars to earn spending money. But he had always had trouble asking for what was due him. Exasperated when she thought people were taking advantage of him, Megan had taken over the financial end of his business.

“You can stop at Carrie’s desk on your way out, she’ll be happy to go over everything with you. If there’s any problem,” he said, anticipating that there would be strictly because of what she’d said in her apartment last night, “it can be worked out. The main thing is to find your son.”

She was starting to believe that he believed that. “Yes, it is, but I don’t intend to do that on credit.”

Dakota dug into her purse, searching for what she’d slipped inside just before she’d left. Her fingers curved around the multifaceted surfaces.

She tossed the item on his desk with a carelessness that surprised him. He’d thought that every woman revered jewelry. The diamond necklace sitting on top of his papers would have inspired reverence in a Spartan.

The sparkle emanating from it was almost blinding. “Is it real?”

“As real as you are.” She tried to not think about when she had received it from Vincent. He’d made her close her eyes before he’d slipped it around her neck. She’d felt like a queen. She’d felt loved. What she’d been, she knew, was blinded. She smiled at Rusty. “I never accept imitations.”

The smile struck him as incredibly sad. Rusty picked up the long, gleaming string of near-perfect diamonds. When the sunlight hit it, it was like holding blue fire with his fingertips. He couldn’t begin to estimate its worth.

“I don’t think the bill’s going to be quite this high.”

She shrugged carelessly. The necklace had been in its box since Vincent had died. Because she’d accidentally discovered the necklace’s true origin, the gift no longer meant anything to her. He’d bought it for someone else, but had taken it back after the breakup.

“Make change,” she told him, rising.

“Two bracelets and a pair of earrings?” he offered, raising a brow.

“Whatever.” She didn’t care about the necklace. She cared about getting Vinny back. Quickly. Dakota paused in the doorway. “You’ll call me if there’s anything?”

He crossed to the doorway to stand beside her. Who had been the man in her life? Did she miss him? Had she hardened her heart to everyone because losing him had been so devastating? Questions occurred to him that weren’t restricted to the immediate case at hand. He wanted them answered.

“I’ll call you regularly one way or another.”

She only wanted to hear from him if he had something positive to tell her. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take without breaking. “Make it one way,” she instructed.