Forever Alexa (Book Four In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series) (16 page)

“Her heart’s heavy, Jackson. Her eyes are so sad and troubled.”

He glanced at his mother standing by the large picture window overlooking the bay as he sat on the floral area rug next to Olivia. “She’s going through a lot.”

“I can’t even imagine. Are they any closer to finding her sister?”

He absentmindedly placed the miniature couch in the living room of the pretty new dollhouse his parents had purchased. “I don’t think so. Leads keep coming in, but they fizzle before they go anywhere.”

“Poor darling.”

“She’s hanging in there. Being back on the bay will be good for her. She’s always loved it here.”

“I’m glad she has you to help her through this. Alexa’s too used to dealing with everything on her own.”

He grunted as he looked at Olivia. Alex didn’t know how to let anyone help. She’d grown up handling more than her fair share and sailed into adulthood doing the same. When they dated, it had taken her months to unbend and lean on him. He could only assume it would take even longer this time around.

What would Alex say when she realized he’d paid off the last of her Gran’s medical bills and the two loans she’d taken out to help her sister with school? He imagined she was going to be seriously pissed, but she would have to get over it. He got a peak at the balance in her checkbook several nights before as she paid her bills at his kitchen table. She’d barely had anything left by the time she finished. Alex deserved to be taken care of for once in her life. He’d be damned if anyone was going to get in the way of him doing so—including Alex herself.

“How’s Evelyn handling all this?”

His gaze flew to his mother as she turned to face him. “She’s not. She left.”

She nodded. “Evelyn is a nice young woman, but she’s not for you.”

“Mom,” he warned.

“I already told you I wouldn’t meddle. You’re a grown man, but you can’t blame me for hoping you and Alexa will find a way to work things out. She’s the best thing that ever happened to you. Now you have a daughter to consider.”

His mother wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know.

She came to sit on the rug with him and Olivia and ran her fingers through her granddaughter’s hair. “She’s beautiful, Jackson.”

He smiled. “I love her beyond words.”

Olivia looked up from the doll and miniature cat she made talk in different voices. “I love you, Jack. You’re my daddy.”

His heart swelled as he grabbed her up and set her in his lap. “Maybe we can work on you calling me Daddy instead of Jack.” He nuzzled her neck and made her giggle.

“Okay. I will call you Daddy. Jack is your big people name, like Alexa is mommy’s big people name.”

He grinned. “That’s right.” He looked at his mother. “Have you ever met a smarter kid?”

“I’m a very smart kid,” Olivia agreed as she crawled out of his lap to play with her dolls again.

Jackson chuckled. “And modest too. You must get that from your mother.”

His mom laughed. “I made a salad and some rolls, but I should start the water to boil for the corn. Your dad will be home any minute. Olivia, do you like corn on the cob?”

Her eyes widened. “It’s yummy. I help mommy peel the green stuff away.”

“Would you like to help Grammy?”

“Yes. I’m a great helper. The best!” She stood and took Grammy’s hand.

Jackson chuckled again and shook his head. “Liv, we need to work on your self-confidence.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a good self-esteem is there, my Livy?”

“No, Grammy.” Olivia smiled as they left the room. “What’s a good slef-esleem?”

Jackson laughed as he stood. God, he loved his little girl. He walked to the window and watched Alex sitting on the dock, wanting nothing more than to be out there with her, holding her close and enjoying the evening together as they had so many times before. But that would take time. Lots of time. He was making progress—slowly. He’d stepped up his game since their kiss in Ethan’s office. She’d melted in his arms. There was definitely something between them still. He just had to keep her off balance until she realized she could trust him with more than her family’s safety. He
would
win her back, and when he did, he was never letting her go.

Down the hall, Olivia’s lively chatter mixed with his mother’s laughter. Now was as good a time as any to get in Alex’s way again. They’d made so many great memories here; it was time to make more. Alex stood, and he smiled. “Perfect. Hey, Mom, I’m going to check on Alex. We might take a little stroll.”

“I think that sounds wonderful, honey.”

So did he, liking his idea more and more. He turned as Alex did and hesitated, facing the window again when she frantically searched her purse. She pulled the small flip phone from her bag, and his stomach clutched. “Son of a bitch.” He ran through the room and down the hall, pushing past the screen door.

“I need to know where you are.”

Alex’s frantic pleading carried on the breeze, and he sprinted down the grassy hill.

“No! Abby!”

He dodged the phone she threw as he ran to her. “Alex.” He took her stiff, trembling arm while tears poured down her cheeks. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Alex stood where she was, gasping for each breath.

He wrapped her in a hug. “What happened?” he asked again.

“She called,” she said between shuddering gasps.

“Abby called you? Are you sure it was her?”

“A woman was sobbing in the background. Men were shouting, and something crashed to the floor.”

“Alex.” He took her face in his hand. “Are you sure it was your sister?”

“She was whispering. She’s afraid. She needs my help. She needs me to help her, but I can’t.”

Tears still poured, but she wouldn’t give in to the sobs straining for release. “Okay.” He cocooned her against him and brushed his fingers through her hair. “We’ll figure this out. I’ll contact Detective Canon. Did a number come up on your phone?”

“Nothing. There was nothing.”

He clenched his jaw as he laid his cheek on top of her head. There wasn’t a damn thing they would be able to do. “We’re going to get her.”

“Right.” She pulled away and swiped at the drops still falling down her cheeks. “Of course we will.” She took a step toward the house as she sucked in steadying breaths.

What the hell? He snagged her arm and turned her back to face him. “Where are you going?”

“To the house.” She wiped at her face again.

Puzzled, he studied her, watching her pull herself together. “You’re upset. Take a minute. I don’t—”

“I can’t do this anymore,” her voice broke, but she shook her head and shored herself back up. “I can’t. We’re getting nowhere. Abby’s out there
somewhere
. She’s trapped in hell. That’s what I got from that phone call. She’s trapped and needs my help and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.” She hurried up the uneven wooden planks and disappeared behind the dip of tall marsh grasses.

Jackson stared into the deepening dusk for a long time before he had his boiling frustrations under control. Alex was exactly right. Everything she’d said had been dead on. There wasn’t a damn thing they could do but wait.

Jackson scrubbed his hands over his face as he sat back in his father’s office chair. The cool breeze rushing through the open window felt like heaven to his weary body. He’d been on the phone for hours talking to Detective Cannon and Doug Masterson, his old college roommate and current Pittsburg police officer. The detective documented Abby’s attempted contact but could offer nothing new. Dougie, however, had come through big time. He finally had something solid to work with.

Stretching, Jackson stood and switched off the light. Bedtime. He would run with the leads he’d been given after a few hours of shut-eye. He walked down the hall to his old bedroom and stopped with his hand on the knob. The distant sound of piano music carried up the stairwell. “What the hell?” he muttered. It was after one thirty in the morning.

He peeked in the guest room across the hall and glanced at Olivia fast asleep with Gordon tucked under her arm, but Alex was gone. Retracing his steps, Jackson moved past the home office and down the stairs, following the weeping notes flowing from his mother’s Steinway.

Jackson slid open the pocket doors leading to the family room and silently stepped in. Alex sat in the shadows of the dim space, her hair stirring in the breeze. One of the burgundy spaghetti straps on her pajama top had slid down her shoulder, leaving her smooth skin bare. Her eyes were closed while her fingers moved over the keys—the picture of serenity, yet the mournful song told a different story.

He’d forgotten how well she played—her Gran’s last student before her arthritic fingers curled into gnarled, useless balls. He leaned against the wall, mesmerized, lost in Alex’s beauty and pain, knowing he should leave. This moment was for Alex alone. She rarely played for anyone, but he couldn’t make himself go.

He stared as the song carried on, until Alex’s hands stilled and the last note died away. She blinked her eyes open and gasped. “Jack.”

“I thought you’d gone to bed.”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t sleep.”

The gentle gust of wind molded the silk of her top to small, firm breasts. He wanted to go to her, to free her of her burdens, but stayed where he was. “I wish there was—”

“I’m fine,” she said too sharply.

Alex had managed to hold herself together after her small breakdown on the docks. She’d eaten a bite or two of her dinner and smiled while carrying on with conversation, as if the trauma of her sister’s whispered pleadings for help never occurred. In a short period of time, Alex had buried her agony, but her tense shoulders and wrenching eyes told him the pain was hiding close to the surface. “It’s late.”

“I know.” She noodled with the keys. “You spoke to Detective Canon.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, not wanting to talk about Abby’s case until he had something to tell her one way or the other. But Alex wouldn’t settle until she had the latest update.

“What did he say?”

“Not much.”

Her fingers stilled, and she set them on her lap.

He struggled not to stare at her smooth, slender legs or her inviting lips he wanted to devour again. “But I talked to Dougie. He was a little more helpful.”

Her eyes flew to his.

“The taskforce compiled a list of strip joints and nightclubs they watch regularly for trafficking activity. Rumor has it women caught up in the sex ring are shuffled from nightclub to nightclub and strip joint to strip joint—makes it nearly impossible for the authorities to keep up with who’s who, where each girl is at, and who’s there because they want to be. Credit card receipts verify that the men from the bachelor party visited a few of them. Doug slipped me the list.”

Alex’s gaze stayed on his, but she still said nothing.

He steamed out a breath through his nose, wanting some sort of reaction. Alex had completely closed herself off again. “Abby was being ushered into a van from the back or side of a building. We have to assume the place is one of the establishments on the list.”

“Why? She could have been anywhere. The men went to several bars, right?” All traces of optimism were absent from her voice.

“Yeah, but many of the places don’t really jive with what we’re looking for—sports bars, family-type eateries. As the night carried on, the bachelor and his buddies’ taste went downhill. They ended up in some pretty rough areas of Baltimore.”

“Okay.” She stood from the piano bench.

“Okay?” He’d expected her to say many things, but ‘okay’ wasn’t one of them.

“Okay,” she repeated as if that were the end of the story and started toward the pocket doors, looking down.

“Hold on.” He stepped in her way.

“I’m tired and ready for bed.” She attempted to skirt around him.

He grabbed her arm. “I told you I have a lead and you’re going to sleep?”

“That’s right. Excuse me.” She yanked free.

He grabbed her again.

She fought his grip. “Stop it.”

“Don’t shut me out.” He took hold of her shoulders. “
Talk
to me.”

She stilled. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me you’re not giving up.”

“I’m not giving up. You have a lead—maybe. I can’t keep getting my hopes up. I can’t keep thinking that ‘this one’ will be
the one
.”

“It probably won’t be,” he admitted. She turned for the door again on a huff of breath, but he whirled her back. “I’m not going to lie to you. I’m not going to give you empty promises. The bachelor and his friends partied like fucking rock stars. My list of places to look into is a mile long. The businesses that may or may not use trafficked girls are all glossed up and completely legit on paper, but it’s a box to check off—one way or the other—and a step, hopefully, in the right direction.”