Forever Alexa (Book Four In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series) (17 page)

“And what if it’s not?” Her voice broke.

He took her cheeks in his hands. “What if it is?”

She closed her eyes and sniffed.

“Look at me,” he whispered, reining in his own frustration. “Look at me, Alex.”

She met his gaze.

“The only promise I can make to you in all of this is if we get a break,
when
we get a break, I’m going to do whatever it takes to bring Abby home. We’re bringing Abby home.”

“We have to.” Her lip trembled as she clutched his arms. “We have to. She’s afraid. She’s in so much pain.”

And so was Alex. He rested his forehead against hers, hardly able to stand it. “
God
, I hate this.”

Her breath trembled out.

“I’ll start looking into this tomorrow. I’m going out after Olivia’s in bed.”

She gripped him closer. “I’m coming with you.”

He pulled back. “No.”

“Of course I am.”

“Alex, it’s not happening.” He was ready to fight her on this. “This is dangerous. A lot of those clubs are in really shitty areas.”

“You can’t expect me to sit back and do nothing.” The determined light was heating her eyes.

“I can expect you to stay here and be safe. Besides, you look too much like Abby. That’s a huge risk for both of you.”

“Fine.”

“I’m not going to let—fine?” He frowned, studying her. She was giving in too easily. When Alex had her mind set on something, it was damn near unshakable.

“You’re right. I don’t want to put Abby in any more danger.”

He continued to hold her gaze, waiting for the catch.

“We should get to bed. Livy will be up before long.”

“Alex.” Why did he have a bad feeling about this?

“Thank you.” She slid the doors open and left. “Good night.”

“Yeah, no problem.” What the hell was she up to? His stomach twisted with unease as his eyes followed her up the stairs. Whatever it was, he knew he wasn’t going to like it.

Alexa frowned as she set down her cup. “Jack left? Where’d he go?”

“He said something about meeting up with someone or other.” George snagged a cinnamon roll and met his wife’s stare as he put the icing-laden bread on a plate. “One roll isn’t going to kill me, Carol.”

Her brow shot in the air. “Let’s hope not.” She turned her attention to Alexa. “George’s cholesterol was a little high at his last doctor’s visit.”

Alexa studied Jack’s father. Five-foot eleven and health-club fit; light brown hair going gray at the temples; handsome, ruddy complexion; blue eyes friendly and alert—he appeared healthy to her. George looked better than most men half his age, and he was still shy of sixty. “You look wonderful.”

“See now, Carol? I look wonderful.” He winked at Alexa and grinned. Jack had his father’s smile, great sense of humor, and outgoing personality. So did Livy.

“Besides, Livy wants to share some of Grampy’s breakfast, doesn’t she?” He pulled another plate from the small stack and set it in front of his granddaughter.

“Yes, I do. You can have a bite, Grampy. I will eat the rest.”

Laughing, George hugged Livy tight. “Now, that’s my girl. A hearty appetite’s a fine thing.”

Alexa chuckled and sampled her coffee, savoring the rich flavor. “Cinnamon rolls are a special treat, but Livy’s definitely not picky, are you, pumpkin?”

“I like lots and lots of food. I try new things,” she preened.

“Yes you do.” Alexa kissed her finger and touched it to the tip of Livy’s nose before she glanced at the digital clock on the stove. Seven-thirty. Why didn’t Jack tell her he had a meeting this morning? “Did Jack mention what time he thought he might be back?”

“No. He mostly grunted his way through breakfast.” Carol grabbed her own cinnamon roll. “He was grumpy as two constipated bears. I don’t think he slept well.”

Alexa sipped her coffee again and made a sound in her throat. Did last night’s conversation keep him up, too? She was trying so hard not to get her hopes up about the new lead Jack had stumbled on, but it was difficult. This one actually seemed like it could go somewhere. She had every intention of being by Jack’s side when he left tonight, even if he was dead set against the idea. She was as determined to go as he was that she stay behind. Abby’s terrified whispers still echoed through her mind, breaking her heart. She wouldn’t sit back and do nothing while her sister suffered. She had yet to work out exactly how she was going to bring Jack around, but she would.

“So, Jackson said you’re teaching first grade.”

Alexa snapped back to attention and looked at George. “Uh, yes. I do. I love it. The kids are so much fun, and the hours are perfect for Livy and me.”

“You’re wonderful with children. You’ve done an excellent job with Olivia. You must be a very special teacher,” Carol added.

Alexa smiled. “That’s quite a compliment coming from a veteran. You’re still teaching math?”

“Can’t imagine doing anything else.”

“And the drama club? Do you still do that?”

“Drama club,” she scoffed. “High school
is
a drama club, but yes, I’m still involved with Maryland’s brightest actors—head of the department now. I have boxfuls of supplies in the den from our last competition—didn’t get around to bringing them back yet.” She shrugged. “I have all summer.”

“Competition? I always thought of drama club as school plays.”

“Oh, it is, but it also means hitting the road to do small skits for nursing homes, hospitals, and competition.”

“Very interesting.”

“And time consuming, but I figure while George is busy selling his insurance, I might as well stay occupied too. Now that the boys are grown and so far away, I have the extra time. The students are very talented. We win quite often. Helps keep us in wigs and greasepaint.”

Alexa reached for a roll and stopped. “Wigs?”

“Oh, all kinds. Blond, redhead, you name it. The kids are wild about their fake hair. They say it helps them immerse themselves in their roles.” Carol rolled her eyes and smiled.

Alexa grabbed the gooey, cinnamon-y bread as an idea started to take hold. “Do you have wigs in your boxes in the den?”

Carol frowned. “Sure, sweetie.”

“Huh. Will it bother you if I take a look?”

Carol stared at Alexa as if she’d lost her mind. “Be my guest.”

Restless, thoughts whirling, Alexa got up, went to the fridge, and poured Livy a glass of milk. Then she grabbed the Tupperware container filled to the brim with green grapes. “I may have to go out later this evening—after Livy’s in bed. Would you be willing to keep an eye on her if I do?”

“Of course, but I thought you and Livy were staying close to the home front for the next little while.”

“Mmm.” She walked back to the table. “Livy, have some milk and fruit with your roll, sweetie.”

Alexa ran the hem under the needle one final time and snipped the bobbin thread as she freed her new skirt from the sewing machine’s arm. She nibbled her lip and eyed the denim, scrutinized the length before she pulled it on, snapped the button, and zipped.

She hurried over to the three-sided mirror in Carol’s beautiful sewing space, which had a view of the bay, and swallowed as she studied her appearance. Abby was the designer in the family but she hadn’t done half bad. The clinging white tank top with a plunging neckline left nothing to the imagination. Her tight jean skirt stopped three inches below her ass cheeks. She’d used a heavy hand with the eyeliner and mascara, giving her lake-blue eyes a large, sooty look to play up the dark blond wig and add to the party-girl effect.

“Hopefully this works,” she muttered. While Olivia had taken her afternoon nap, Alexa studied pictures on Google Images, trying to determine what women wore out for a night of bar hopping and clubbing. She’d never done either. While her college roommates had partied, she’d busted her butt to keep her scholarships and worked at the library to send what money she could home for Gran’s constant stream of medical bills.

She slid on her sandal-heels and scrutinized her face. There was no way she could be mistaken for Abby looking like this. She opened the door, peeked in the hall, and made a dash for the room she and Livy shared, closing herself in. She smiled down at her exhausted daughter and smoothed the sheet over her sprawled, sleeping form.

Bedtime had never been easier after the excitement of the day. Livy was typically a night owl, but not this evening. The afternoon boat ride had been a thrill for both of them. Alexa forgot how much she missed the wind in her face as the powerboat glided along the choppy water. Watching Olivia help Grampy steer the sweet watercraft had been such a special moment.

And the soft shell crab… Livy had her first taste when they docked at a local dining spot a few miles from the house. Alexa chuckled as she remembered how Livy’s nose had wrinkled with her dislike, but the grilled hot dog and chocolate ice cream had gone down just fine.

Although their lives had been turned upside down, Alexa couldn’t be sorry Livy was getting the opportunity to get to know the rest of her family. The Matthews were such good people.

A light knock sounded at the door. Alexa kissed Livy on the forehead and tucked her daughter’s beloved stuffed frog back under her arm, then she grabbed her purse and turned. She took a deep breath as she smoothed down her skintight clothing and walked to the door. “Here goes nothing,” she muttered and twisted the knob.

“I’m going to head…” Jack’s eyes went huge as he looked her up and down. “What the
hell
are you wearing?”

If she wasn’t in for the fight of her life, she would’ve laughed at his shocked expression. “My clubbing outfit.”

“Your—your
what
?”

“Shh.” She glanced over her shoulder, afraid they were going to wake Livy. She opened the bedroom door fully so George and Carol would hear Olivia if she called. Then she grabbed Jack’s hand, pulling him down the hall as she continued. “My clubbing outfit. I’m coming with you.”

He stopped short. “No, you’re not. We’ve talked about this.”

“You told me I wasn’t going because Abby and I look too much alike. We don’t anymore. I’m coming to help find my sister.”

“I also said this was too damn dangerous. It’s not happening.”

Her brows winged high. It was time for the big guns. “You take me or I go myself.”

He smirked at the challenge. “You don’t know where I’m going.”

Damn. She hadn’t thought of that. The argument was supposed to have ended with her threat. Now what? She shrugged, then began to rifle through her purse, searching for her phone. “Where’s my phone?”

He pulled her cell from his back pocket. “I took it with me today—had the lab boys see if they could get a trace on the call from yesterday.”

“Did they?”

“No. Abby must’ve called from another burn phone.”

She swallowed the familiar taste of disappointment as she reached for her cell, more determined than ever to tag along.

Jack held it out of reach. “Why do you want this?”

“Because I pay the bill.” She made another grab, but Jack moved again. “Give me my phone, Jack.”

“Why?”

She steamed out a breath and glared. This was
not
going the way she planned. “Because I’m calling a cab.”

Eyes hot, he shoved the cell in his back pocket and leaned close to her face. “No fucking way.” He spaced out each word on a dangerous whisper.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” She shoved him. “Get out of my way.” She stormed down the stairs.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll use one of the landlines. I’m sure if I ask a cabbie to take me to a strip club in Baltimore, I’ll end up where I want to be.” Her stomach fluttered with unease. She didn’t want to go without Jack, but pride pushed her on.

“Damn it, Alex. Why do you have to be so stubborn?” He followed behind.