An Heiress on His Doorstep

“Really?” This was good.

“Look, I’m going to be honest with you.”

“Honesty is the best policy,” she said virtuously. His eyes darkened a fraction, and she knew he’d caught her sarcasm.

“You noticed that I’m a wealthy man.”

“Yeah. Like I said, the castle is a clue.”

“Because of that, women throw themselves at me.”

“You mean they’re not attracted by your looks and sensitivity?” she asked sweetly.

“It started in high school and escalated from there.”

He was probably telling the truth. She was an heiress; she knew all come-ons weren’t sincere.

“Women do outrageous things to be noticed,” he continued.

“So do men,” she said pointedly.

“They do things like staking out the road to my home and pretending to be a victim,” he finished, staring at her.

“Then why did you stop yesterday?” she asked, trying to trip him up.

“That’s a good question. I’ve been asking myself the same thing.”

“Did you come up with a good answer?”

He shrugged. “Probably the one in ten chance that you really did need help.”

Jordan stared at him, searching for a chink in his facade. He was good, she thought. She almost believed him. At least her father had picked a man smart enough to keep the game interesting. If he’d come on to her in a smarmy way, she’d have shut him down faster than Miami in a hurricane. But clearly he was playing his part to the hilt. He was probably telling her this for sympathy, trying to bond so that they’d have something in common when her memory came back. He had no reason to know she was on to him and faking the amnesia.

“I really did need help,” she said. “Thanks to you—”

Audrey walked into the kitchen and smiled. “Good morning, Jane.”

“Mrs. Patterson.”

“J.P., the sheriff arrived while I was out in the garden. I’ve shown him into the parlor. If you’ll both join us there when you’ve finished eating?”

Jordan glanced at the half-eaten food on her plate, then stood. “I’ve had enough, thanks. It’s time to get this over with.”

“I agree.” J.P. came around the table and looked down at her.

Jordan would swear he was trying to intimidate her. It wouldn’t work.

They walked through the house to a room near the front door. In the parlor stood a tall man about J.P.’s age and height wearing a beige shirt and matching trousers with olive-green and tan stripes down the leg. If the uniform hadn’t been a clue, the badge on his chest said loud and clear that this good-looking man with light brown hair and green eyes was the sheriff.

When he saw them, a wide grin revealed very white teeth and laugh lines around his eyes. “Hey, J.P. It’s been too long. We were supposed to have a beer together.”

“Rick.” J.P. grinned back and shook his hand. “It’s good to see you. I’ve been busy with work.”

“Me, too,” the other man said. “We’re going to have to put a date on the calendar.”

“I’ll have my secretary call you.” J.P. looked at her. “Rick and I went through school together.”

“How nice,” Jordan said.

“From kindergarten through the twelfth grade,” Audrey added.

Jordan smiled tightly. “It can’t be a bad thing to have friends in the sheriff’s department.”

Rick looked at her. “I wasn’t always in law enforcement. I managed to get into trouble a time or two. In high school, J.P. was voted most likely to take over the world. I was voted most likely to wind up in jail.”

“And you did,” Jordan commented. “In a manner of speaking.”

Audrey gave the sheriff a hug. “How’s your mother, Rick?”

“Doing fine, Mrs. P. I’ll say hello to her for you.”

“Let’s all sit down,” Audrey said. She took Jordan’s hand and sat beside her on a green-and-gold brocade love seat. J.P. stood beside them.

The sheriff remained standing, backlit by the beveled-glass window. He looked at Jordan. “Sorry I couldn’t get out here last night. The department was swamped. What’s this about a kidnapping?”

J.P. should be the one answering that question. But her dream of humiliating him in front of the sheriff had gone down the tubes. They were boyhood buds, which explained how Audrey Patterson knew the sheriff had the sensitivity of a gnat. Under the circumstances, revealing J.P.’s part in this conspiracy would be a waste of time. Number one, she was on his turf and unlikely to get any support. Number two, his mother was obviously not in on the plan. Audrey Patterson was a sweetie. Jordan had no wish to hurt her by exposing her son in her presence.

“A lot of it is a blur.” That part was true. Terror had a way of blurring the facts. “Then I remember riding in a car for what seemed like hours. I don’t know how long it actually was. I was handcuffed to the passenger handle.”

“Then what?”

“He parked on a road in the middle of nowhere. And we waited.” That was true, too. “I told him I had to go to the bathroom.”

The sheriff nodded his understanding. “Then what happened?”

“He unlocked the cuff, and I got out of the car.”

“Can you remember what the perp looked like?”

“Early twenties. Brown hair.”

“How tall?”

She tried to remember. “Not so tall that I couldn’t give him a knee to the groin.” Both men winced at that, but it was small satisfaction. “Shorter than both of you.”

“Any tattoos? Distinguishing marks?”

She thought back and realized she really couldn’t remember. “Not that I can recall.”

The sheriff looked up from the notebook where he’d been jotting down her comments. “I did some checking, and there are no reports of a kidnapping and no one missing who fits your description.”

No surprise there. It wasn’t really a kidnapping, and she wasn’t missing. J.P. had probably been in touch with her father to let him know the plan was working perfectly.

“What does that mean, Rick? In non-sheriff terms,” Audrey added.

“It means I have very little to go on to learn her identity.” He put his hat back on. “So, I’ll take her back to town with me. Put her picture out there and see what we can come up with.”

Jordan decided going with the sheriff would be best. She’d tell him her side of what happened and maybe he would help her find transportation back home. Somehow she would come up with a way to get through to her father that this stunt was an incredible invasion of her privacy.

“Thank you, Sheriff,” she said. “I’d appreciate any help you can give me.”

“Rick to the rescue,” J.P. said.

The smile of satisfaction on his face really rubbed Jordan the wrong way. Along with the word rescue. Her hero seemed relieved to be getting rid of her. She just didn’t get it.

“I won’t hear of it,” Audrey said. “Jane, I think it would be best for you to stay here with us.”

“Mother, we don’t have the resources to help,” J.P. pointed out. “Rick has computers and contacts within the law-enforcement community.”

“And if he can’t find her identity, what then?” Audrey asked. “Where will she go? Where will she stay? Who will take care of her?”

“Mrs. P., there are agencies to help out—city, county and state. She’ll be well taken care of.”

“Bureaucracy? I don’t think so.” Audrey shook her head. “She remembered more details today about what happened to her than she did yesterday. Obviously being here overnight helped. Rest and relaxation is working. It proves my theory that if she feels safe and secure her memory will come back.”

“Mrs. Patterson,” Jordan said, “It’s very kind of you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your concern. But it’s probably best if I go with the sheriff. I’ve imposed on you too much,” she said, then slid a glare in J.P.’s direction.

“Jane, dear,” Audrey said, taking her hand. “It’s no imposition. We enjoy having you here.”

“Mother, she’s a stranger. It’s Rick’s job to help strangers. Right, Sheriff?”

“J.P.’s right, ma’am,” the sheriff said.

Audrey glared at her son. “J.P., I’m surprised at you. You, too, Rick Michaels. No man is an island. We need to reach out to each other.”

“But she’s not a man, and we don’t know anything about her,” J.P. pointed out.

“I know all I need to. And you’re very well aware that I’m an excellent judge of character. I absolutely won’t hear of her leaving. And that’s final.”

“It’s not really up to you, Mom.” He looked at Jordan. “Are you going to drag this out?”

Drag it out? Her? Anger roared through Jordan and settled in her chest until she could hardly breathe. He’d started this. Him and her father. She’d been bullied and terrified. Ripped from her life and dumped in the middle of nowhere. And this bozo had the nerve to imply this was her fault? He acted like he wanted her gone. Then what would he do? Another kidnapping? Something worse? In cahoots with her father? The two of them had to be stopped.

Talking to her father about his previous stunts hadn’t worked. Words weren’t enough. She needed a statement—something big. Something the two of them would understand. But what? Her father obviously wanted her with J.P. Sooner or later he would make a move on her. This suspicious act was no doubt a psychological ploy to keep her off balance.

Well, she would turn the tables on him and her father. Take them both down in one fell swoop. For men like Harman Bishop and J. P. Patterson, failure to achieve a desired objective was not an option. If she let on that she knew what they were up to and went quietly, it was nothing more than a bump in the road. If she stayed and played them like a finely tuned fiddle, failure would be bigger and more humiliating. That would scuttle their plans and teach them not to mess with Jordan Bishop.

When J.P. came on to her, she would cut him off at the knees. She would teach him and her father not to meddle in her life.

“Jane, are you all right?” Audrey squeezed her hands. “What do you say?”

She’d planned to spend her vacation relaxing. Her spirit could relax better after a bit of retaliation. She felt safe. Her father knew J.P., probably through business. But no matter how angry she was with Harman Bishop, she didn’t for a moment believe he would harm her or choose a man who would hurt her physically.

Although she felt guilty taking advantage of Audrey’s generous nature, she needed time to plan. Jordan would find a way to make it up to her.

She met Audrey’s gaze. “You’re very kind. I gladly accept your hospitality.”

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