Kiss Me If You Can (14 page)

From the unintentional sexy pout on her glossed lips, Coop knew she was annoyed. He wasn't thrilled with himself, either. He'd gone from wanting to keep an emotional distance to insisting he meet the rest of her family. It was one thing for him to decide to pull back, but another to hear her minimize what they shared.

Hearing her tell her father it wasn't like they were serious had pissed him off. To the point where he wanted to rip the phone out of her hands and kiss her hard enough to make her eat those words. He wanted to touch all those sensitive spots on the body he knew so well, make her come and then let her tell him they weren't all that serious. He broke into a sweat just thinking about it.

Instead, he was going to meet her family. When she wanted nothing more than to get on a plane and leave as soon as possible. Fucking swell.

His pride at manipulating her into agreement quickly turned to disgust with himself. Well, what's done was done. He'd deal with it tomorrow when dinner rolled around.

Right now it was time to change the subject. “My father said he'd get us into the file room where the cold cases are stored.”

As expected, he captured her attention and her eyes sparkled with excitement. “That's great!” She jumped up from her seat. “When can we go?”

“No time like the present.” He glanced at her white shorts and frilly top from the day before. “The file room is in the basement of an old building. You probably want to put on jeans and an old shirt.”

She glanced down and frowned. “I hate for us to have to lose time by going to my grandmother's first, but I guess we have no choice.”

“I don't mind.”

He almost suggested that while she was at her grandmother's, she pick up some things to leave here. To make things easier in the future.

He bit back the words. He wasn't sure what worried him more. Her reaction to that suggestion or what his response would be if she said no.

 

C
OOP DROVE TO HER
grandmother's so Lexie could change. He was quiet in the car ride over and Lexie remained silent, too. She wasn't sure how to broach the subject of the travel sites he'd seen or how to explain her need to pick up and go.

There were surprisingly few people in the world who understood—at least in Lexie's experience—and nothing she ever said or did made a difference. Too often she didn't understand it herself. What had started as a flight mechanism had grown into some
thing she not only enjoyed doing but needed to do. She didn't always understand why, but she
accepted
that part of her. It hurt more than she'd anticipated to realize Coop couldn't do the same.

When they reached the apartment, to Lexie's surprise, her grandmother was nowhere to be found. She knocked on Sylvia's door, too, but the other woman wasn't home, either. Lexie figured they'd gone out for the day.

She wrote a note telling her grandmother she'd be home later and informing her that the three of them would be going to her parents' home for dinner Saturday night. Which, Lexie realized, was tomorrow.

She called her father and left him a voice-mail message letting him know they'd all be there, prompting an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly all areas of her life seemed to be crowding in on her and she yearned for a trip to the top of the Empire State Building instead of one to the bowels of a NYC police precinct.

By the time they headed back downtown, stopped for a quick lunch and reached the station, it was late afternoon.

Once at the main desk, Coop asked to speak with a man named Ed Potter.

A few minutes later, a burly, older guy in uniform who walked with a cane strode toward them and shook Coop's hand.

“Who's this lovely lady?” Ed asked.

“Lexie Davis,” she said, and extended her hand in greeting.

“Nice to meet you.” He gripped her palm in a firm shake.

“How have you been, Ed?” Coop asked.

The older man smiled. “Can't complain. When it's not raining, the old injury doesn't bother me as much.” He patted his left leg with his hand. “How 'bout you? It's been a while. Last time I saw you was at your mother's funeral. Quite a turnout for quite a lady.”

Coop bowed his head. “Thanks. She was special.”

Lexie heard the ache in his voice and her throat closed up a little. She wished she could have known the mother he'd been so close to.

“How's your dad doing?” Ed asked. “'Cause I'm sure I don't get the truth out of him. Always claims life's great.”

Coop grinned. “He's doing all right. Never moans and groans. I wish he'd meet someone to keep him company, but so far the right woman hasn't walked into his bar.”

Ed nodded. “Whoever she is, make sure she's more understanding of guys' night than my wife, Gretchen.”

Coop laughed—a deep, gruff sound Lexie always enjoyed, and one that never ceased to send shivers of awareness through her body.

“I take it that explains why we don't see you around Jack's?” Coop asked.

“You got that figured right.”

Lexie glanced at the larger man, surprised he'd let his wife dictate who he saw and what he did. So much for judging a man by looking at him.

Ed led them toward a flight of stairs and Lexie shot Coop a surprised look.

“The cane's just in case the leg starts to hurt. It don't stop me from getting around,” Ed said, as if reading her mind.

She nodded and followed him as they descended lower and lower.

Coop hadn't been kidding when he said the file rooms were filthy. Dirt and grime that had probably once just been dust covered everything inside the room. Lexie, who'd slept everywhere from tents in Yosemite to outdoor huts in Africa, didn't mind dirt, but this kind of dust and mold was another story. Her allergies immediately kicked in and her nose began itching within minutes of reaching the depths of the old building.

“Okay, this is it.” Ed stopped at a closed door, pulled out a set of keys and let them inside.

“Door locks behind you, but you're set on the inside. You can let yourselves out. Take as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” Lexie said.

“Thanks.” Coop slapped the other man on the back. “Don't be a stranger. Bring Gretchen with you to Jack's if she won't let you out of her sight.”

“Best burgers ever,” Lexie said by way of incentive.

Ed grinned. “I might just do that.” He raised a hand in a wave goodbye and walked out.

The door creaked, then slammed shut behind them with a loud thud, leaving them alone in the dimly lit room.

An eerie silence surrounded them, settling on Lexie's shoulders and she shivered. “I wonder if this is what it feels like when prison doors slam shut behind you.”

“No, that's worse. The sound of iron slamming shut is harder and more…final. My father took Matt and me when we were kids. He wanted to scare us straight
before
we did anything wrong.” He paused for a moment. “It worked.”

She shuddered once more. “I can't even imagine.” Turning her sights to the task ahead of them, Lexie glanced around at the aisles filled with boxes stacked row after row on shelves. “Wow.”

“They should be in chronological order,” Coop said, and started walking past the most recent years.

They passed the 1960s and finally found the decade before. “The robbery took place during a holiday party, so let's start with December.” He pulled
out one huge file box and placed it on the floor, followed by another. Together they covered two years.

By unspoken agreement, they settled on the floor to look through them.

Lexie took the year 1950 while Coop tackled 1951.

He pulled off the lid and began to flip through the cases. “September, October… It's pretty much in order.”

Lexie followed suit. “Same here,” she said, surprised. “I really thought this would take days. I never imagined this place could be as organized as you see on TV.” Lexie shifted, getting as comfortable as she could on the hard, cold concrete floor.

“It's not the same as being computerized, but it's pretty damn good.”

His tone was brusque and businesslike and Lexie couldn't stand it another minute. She couldn't be intimate with someone at night and be angry and distant during the day. She wasn't sure if the travel sites bothered him more or if it had been her description of their relationship to her father. She hadn't intentionally meant to hurt him with either.

“Listen, about this morning…” She decided to start with the Web sites. “I know you found the Australia travel site on my computer.”

He glanced up, meeting her gaze. “It's no big deal.”

“Then why did you leave without saying goodbye
or even telling me you had someplace to go?” As she spoke, the same pain hit in the pit of her stomach.

“Since we're not that serious, why should it matter?”

She was about to call him on the petty comment when she caught the twinkle in his gaze.

Now she was just plain confused.

“And I should have let you know I was going to my father's.” A muscle worked in his jaw and she waited, giving him time. “Look, seeing your travel plans caught me off guard—even though I knew you wouldn't be staying long.”

She appreciated his honesty. She might think about taking off and traveling, but she never connected those thoughts with leaving
him.

She wasn't ready.

“They aren't actual plans. I was just looking at places I might want to see one day. Have you ever been out of the country?” she asked cautiously.

He shook his head. “Never had the opportunity.” And he turned back to looking through the files in the box.

Lexie let out a long breath, glad it wasn't dislike of the notion. But never having had the chance? She found that incredibly sad. “Maybe you need to create your own opportunity,” she suggested.

“Found it!” He pulled a file from the box. “Says Lancaster on the tab.” Excitement fueled his voice.

Their discussion on the back burner, Coop opened the folder and she scooted in close so she could read over his shoulder.

She breathed in his delicious, familiar scent and sexual awareness kicked right in. The urge to run her fingers through his hair while they scanned the words on the page was strong, but she needed to concentrate on what they found. So she refrained.

For now.

“It says here all the party guests were questioned and released. Same for most of the staff who worked that evening,” Coop said.

From his focused tone and energy, he seemed to have no similar yearning to take her right here on the musty file room floor.

“The chauffeur, whose name was listed as Richard Hampton, took longer to locate, but he was eventually questioned and let go. Two waitresses were never found. Neither were the jewels. When the police spoke to the hiring company, they discovered the women had used false identities. And since they were the only open leads and their trail grew cold quickly, the case was shelved here.”

Lexie bit the inside of her cheek, a question occurring to her for the first time. “What was the exact date of the robbery?”

“December 31, 1951.”

Lexie thought long and hard, recalling stories and
information she'd heard over the years. Finally, something clicked.

“Yes!” She pumped her fist in the air.

“What is it?”

“I guess I was thinking 1950s, so it never dawned on me that my grandfather had an ironclad alibi. But in August 1951 he was drafted for the Korean War. I remember it was August because it's around Grandma's birthday.”

Coop's eyes filled with understanding. “So he couldn't have been involved.”

“Right!” Relief surged through her and she threw her arms around Coop's neck and pulled him into a kiss.

Coop responded and kissed her back, his tongue doing delicious things to her mouth, but he didn't let it last long. “We have more digging to do,” he reminded her.

She reluctantly agreed and eased away, her body still humming. “Right. So…the chauffeur was exonerated after questioning and that leaves the two women.”

Coop flipped through the aging papers, skimming hard to read handwriting, taking his time as he read the words on the pages. “Most of this is the following up of dead ends. Except…” He placed his finger on the paper. “Here. It says most of the party guests noted the two waitresses were flighty, disappearing
for too long at a time, leaving guests without drinks or hors d'oeuvres. And they often congregated together, whispering instead of working. Like they knew each other well.”

“Which wouldn't be surprising if they worked together often,” Lexie pointed out, her stomach churning even as she didn't want to face why.

“Except…hang on. I remember reading something else in here…” Coop flipped backwards in the file. “Here it is. These two women were temps hired to fill in when the party list grew larger at the last minute.”

Lexie swallowed hard. “Which puts us back where we started, asking ourselves how the necklace came to be in my grandmother's possession…”

“While your grandfather was stationed overseas.” Coop placed a firm hand on Lexie's shoulder, as if bracing her for the blow.

A blow she'd already subconsciously taken as they'd worked through the question. “We can't possibly be thinking that she was one of the two women who were temporary help.” She looked to Coop, praying he'd laugh at her assumption.

“For the sake of argument, let's say she was. Who could have been her accomplice?”

Lexie closed her eyes, fighting the truth that had been simmering just below consciousness. The other day she'd thought of her grandmother and her best
friend, Sylvia, as Laverne and Shirley or Lucy and Ethel. Who else but Sylvia would Charlotte have had her head together with all those years ago while working a dinner party?