Heart of the Raven

“It’s Cassie Miranda,” she said when he answered.

“You have news?”

She heard expectation in his voice and was sorry not to be able to give him good news. She didn’t know much about Eva yet, but Cassie knew this much—people who used children were the lowest form of humanity. “I’m sorry, no. I’m about to call her OB’s office and pretend I’m her. Does she have an accent?”

A few beats passed. She figured he was dealing with the disappointment of no news. “No accent,” he said finally.

“Any distinctive speech patterns? Does she say ‘you know’ a lot? Or ‘like’? Anything like that?”

“She giggles.”

Cassie cringed. “A lot?”

“Yes. Even more when she’s nervous.”

Great. “Can you give me an example?”

Silence, then, “Right. That’s something I would do.”

She smiled at his sarcasm. “I think I would’ve liked to hear you try.” She looked at Eva’s photo when he said nothing further, trying to picture the two of them together. They didn’t fit. She was a girl-next-door type, with red hair and freckles, and he seemed worldly, even in his grief for the son he lost and the yet-to-be-born child now missing.

And he’s a hermit, don’t forget. Not exactly your ordinary sophisticate.

“Any other ideas come to you?” she asked.

“She likes to shop.”

Cassie grinned. She was getting used to his interesting way of offering information, direct and vague at the same time. “Any place in particular?”

“She likes a bargain. Said she’s never paid full price for anything and she never would.”

“She likes a bargain as in thrift stores—or the semiannual sale at Nordstrom?”

“Both, I would guess. And consignment shops. She’d found one that sold only maternity clothes.”

“Can’t be too many of those in the city.” She grabbed her phone book from her credenza and placed it on her desktop. “Thanks. I’ll check it out.”

As soon as she hung up she called the doctor’s office, knowing she was cutting it close to quitting time. She drummed her pen on the desk as the voice menu prompted her with choices to make, then she chose option three, which had to do with making appointments.

“Hi,” she said when an actual human being came on the line. “This is Eva Brooks. I’ve done the silliest thing.” That was as close to a giggle as she was going to get. “I lost the card showing my next appointment. Can you tell me when I’m supposed to come in, please?”

“Brooks, did you say?”

“Yes. Eva.”

Cassie heard the distinctive sound of keystrokes on a keyboard.

“You’re Dr. Sorenson’s patient?”

“Yes.” Did she sound cheerful enough? Innocent enough? Please don’t make me giggle.

“Do you go by a different first name?”

Cassie knew she didn’t have to pursue it. Another of Eva’s deceits. Was she really even pregnant? Was it all a scheme to squeeze money out of Heath? Prey on his vulnerabilities?

“I’m sorry. Did you say Sorenson?” Cassie asked. “I wasn’t paying attention. I dialed wrong. My mistake.”

She dropped the receiver into the cradle and stared sightlessly at the phone.

“Cass?”

She roused herself as James Paladin rapped his knuckles on her desk. Like her, he’d been hired as an investigator nine months ago when the L.A.-based ARC Security & Investigations opened its branch office in San Francisco.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She straightened, paid attention. “Yeah. You need something, Jamey?”

“To brainstorm the Kobieski case, if you’ve got time.”

She looked at her watch—five o’clock exactly. She didn’t want to tell Heath over the phone. He’d had enough heartache already. She could at least soften the blow in person. But the commute traffic from San Francisco across the bridge would be horrendous now. If she waited an hour or two…

“Sure,” she said. “I’ve got time.”

From a downstairs bedroom Heath watched Cassie walk from her car toward his house, her strides purposeful. She’d called a few minutes ago, as she was driving across the bridge, alerting him she was coming, an unnecessary thoughtfulness since he never went anywhere and she knew it.

What had she found out? Something important or she would’ve told him over the phone. Something good, he hoped.

He tried to turn off his appreciation of her as a woman, but he couldn’t. She was beautiful, pure and simple. And unaware of it. If she used makeup at all, it was minimal. She pulled her hair back into a simple braid. No fuss, no muss. Her body was athletic and curvy, a one-two punch to a man who’d recently convinced himself that celibacy should be the only path for him from now on, but who obviously wasn’t capable of such a sacrifice.

Aside from her spectacular face and body she had a mind that appealed, too. And she didn’t giggle.

The doorbell rang. He hadn’t meant to make her wait, but he’d been distracted by thoughts of her—didn’t want to be, but he was. This time, however, he would control his response, even though her passion-filled promise that she would find his baby was as seductive as her physical being.

He set the little white teddy bear he’d been holding onto a nearby rocking chair and headed into the foyer. He opened the door, hope in his heart.

All hope fled when he looked in her eyes. “Tell me,” he said.

“Can we sit?” she asked.

“Tell me.”

Her mouth tightened. “Are you sure she’s pregnant?”

Not dead. Not dead, or she would’ve said so right away. Relief rushed through him like three straight shots of bourbon, hot and dizzying. “Yes.”

“Positive?”

“Why?”

“Because Dr. Sorenson’s office says she wasn’t a patient. How do you know for sure she was pregnant?”

“I felt the baby move.”

“I don’t mean to question you on this, but—”

“She let me put my hand on her abdomen many times while she visited. Sometimes she lifted her blouse enough that I could watch the baby move inside her. I’ve been through a pregnancy before, Cassie.”

She propped her fists on her hips and looked at the floor, blowing out a breath. “I thought she’d been toying with you. Playing you for—” She stopped.

“A fool? A sucker?” he finished.

She shook her head. “A decent, but vulnerable man. One with money.”

He let the words linger for a few seconds.

“What’s the next step?” he asked, ignoring the implications of what she’d said. “You can’t call every doctor in the city.”

“Yes, I can.”

It took him a moment to let that idea sink in. “You’re kidding.”

“I’ll start with the obstetricians, of course.”

“You can’t possibly—”

“Yes. I can. And I’ll try to hook up with the roommate tomorrow. I think that’s our best chance for information. The problem I’m going to have with calling the doctors is that there are so many group practices. I would be asked which doctor, and I can’t name more than one.”

“So, it’s a long shot.”

She smiled at the understatement. “We could get lucky.”

He admired her resolve. “What can I do?”

“Be here if she calls or comes by.”

“That goes without saying.”

She studied him. “Are you sure you’ll be able to leave the house if you need to?”

He didn’t like being questioned, wasn’t used to it. “Has it occurred to you that I choose to stay in my house? That it’s a conscious choice I made?” He leaned toward her. “I will do what needs to be done.”

“Why haven’t—”

“The subject’s not on the table, Cassie.”

It ended not only that particular discussion about why he didn’t leave the house but also their conversation in general. He walked her to the front door.

“Did you design this house?” she asked.

“I did.”

“It’s spectacular.”

“But?”

“No but.”

“Yes, there is.” He heard it in her voice even if she didn’t realize it.

She shook her head.

Ah. Keeps her own counsel. He liked that.

“If Eva had simply disappeared, without leaving a note,” Cassie said, her hand on the doorknob, “this whole situation would be different. The police would get involved. We would have access to their resources. I still think someone at her office could help.”

“I refuse to cause problems for her at work if she’s just having some kind of hormone overload. I’m already disregarding her wishes by hiring you to try to find her, for which I feel no guilt whatsoever, by the way. That’s my child she’s got. My life she’s playing with, as well.” He shoved his hands through his hair, locked his fingers behind his neck and made himself calm down. “Look, I’m trying to do the right thing here. It’s my fault she’s pregnant.”

“You know, Heath, these days I think we consider pregnancy a dual responsibility.”

“She was young.”

“Not that young. And you were vulnerable.”

It was the second time she’d used that word to describe him. He didn’t like it. Who was she to come to that conclusion so quickly?

“Vulnerable doesn’t mean weak,” she said, somehow reading his mind. “It means you’d been hurt so deeply you didn’t want to survive, but you did, so you have to deal with it, but it’s harder for you than for others. Most people can’t cope too long without the company of other people, of a compatible partner, no matter how short-lived.”

“Personal experience?”

“I haven’t lost a child.” She opened the door. “I’ll be in touch when I have news.”

“I want progress reports, not just news.”

“No problem.”

He didn’t want her to leave…but he couldn’t ask her to stay.

Three

Cassie grabbed an official-looking envelope from the passenger seat then headed into Eva’s apartment building. The hallway was surprisingly bright and cheerful. Someone was playing a clarinet, repeating the same section again and again. The fragrance of sautéing onions drifted, mingling with something spicy. Curry? It was five o’clock on Friday night. She hoped to catch Eva’s roommate before she headed out for the evening.

Eva and Darcy lived on the third floor. Cassie climbed the stairs then knocked on the door. After fifteen seconds she tried again. No one answered. No sounds came from inside.

She propped her shoulders against the wall next to the door to wait. So much of her job involved patience. She surprised even herself that she not only coped well with all the waiting involved but that she didn’t even mind it most of the time. Surveillance was often boring, but she was so grateful to be working for ARC that she didn’t even mind the long, dull hours sitting in her car waiting and watching for something to happen. Her life had changed drastically since Quinn had hired her late last year.

An image of Heath popped into her head. A fascinating man, simmering with emotion he carefully controlled. Talented and intelligent. Angry. Somber.

He had good reasons to be somber. Cassie had learned that his five-year-old son, Kyle, had died in a school bus accident three years ago, and that Heath had been with him but couldn’t save him. Heath was still married at the time, so the divorce had obviously come after they lost their son.

The death of a child, a divorce and now the disappearance of the woman carrying his baby—Cassie was surprised he was speaking in complete sentences.

She thought back to the look on his face when he’d opened the door to her last night. The hope that died fast when she didn’t have good news for him. She’d wanted to put her arms around him and tell him it was going to be okay. His pain sent her reeling back to her own, different but still caused by other people taking away control, making you—

Someone was jogging up the stairs. Cassie pushed herself away from the wall just as a woman in her early twenties rounded the corner. Her hair was black and chin-length, a choppy cut popular with her age group. Her gold nose stud reflected light from a wall sconce. She wore a ruffled minidress over form-fitting jeans, a look that worked for her.

She challenged Cassie with her eyes.

“Are you Darcy?” Cassie asked.

“Why?”

“I’m looking for Eva Brooks.”

She slid her key into the lock. “Get in line.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Eva bailed a month ago.” The door opened. “I had to take a second job so I could cover the rent.” She looked Cassie up and down. “What d’you want with her?”

A month ago? “I have a document for her.”

Darcy eyed the envelope Cassie held. “What kinda document?”

“I really can’t say.”

“Well, I can’t help you.”

She started to shut the door. Cassie put her hand out to stop it from closing. “I really need to find her. It might mean a lot of money for her, if she’s the right Eva Brooks.” It was the right tactic. At the word money Darcy paid attention.

“She owes me rent and stuff,” Darcy said.

Cassie waited.

“Look,” the young woman said, “I don’t know where she’s at. The lawyer she works for called, too, but I couldn’t help him, either.”

“How long have you been roommates?”

“Couple of years. She got herself knocked up, though, so I was kinda glad she left ’cuz I really didn’t want a baby around, you know?”

“I’m sure. Did she talk about the father? Maybe she’s with him.”

She snorted. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Too old. Too stodgy. I don’t know. She had a list of reasons why she wasn’t hanging out with him.”

Cassie could see how Eva would perceive Heath as stodgy, especially if she didn’t see past his pain. But, old? “Still, she is pregnant,” she said to Darcy. “It would make sense that she would turn to him.”

“Maybe. Her mail’s still coming here, though. Bills. I’m not paying ’em.”

“Could I take a look?”

Darcy frowned. “Who are you?”

Cassie gave her a business card.

“A P.I.?” She gave a low whistle. “Sweet.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“She got a rich old uncle who died and left her money?”

“Something like that. Maybe I can track her down through her mail, then you can get the money she owes you.”

Darcy hesitated. For a second Cassie thought she’d convinced her, then Darcy shook her head. “It wouldn’t be right. And I really gotta go. If I’m late even a minute, they dock an hour’s pay.”

“I wouldn’t open the mail. Just see who sent it.”

“Naw.”

“You’ve got my number,” Cassie said as the door closed.

She made her way to her car. Now what?

She didn’t like how this case was stacking up. Eva had lied more than once and now had left no trail. It was rare that someone could just disappear, but especially someone eight months pregnant.

Cassie decided there were no leads to follow, no more calls that could be made at the moment. She could give Heath an update by phone then go back to the office and do the paperwork she’d ignored on her two other cases. Or she could call a friend and go out to dinner, maybe dancing. Blow off a little steam. Find a reason to laugh.

She pulled her cell phone from her jacket pocket. After a minute she put it away. She didn’t know why she tried to pretend with herself. She wanted to see him in person. It was stupid. She didn’t get mixed up with clients, and she especially shouldn’t get mixed up with this one, who had twice as much baggage as she did—and that was a lot, although hers had been stored in an overhead bin for a long time.

She should do them both a favor and just call him and let him know how it went with Darcy.

Then she pictured the look in his eyes when he’d said his child was missing.

She glanced at her watch. The traffic would be miserable.

She gripped the steering wheel. There was nothing to accomplish by going to his house. She would only add to an attraction that should be buried in businesslike behavior.

If only someone had cared about me like he cares for his unborn child.

Cassie blew out a long breath. Okay, so she was drawn to the wounded man in more ways than were good for her. Decency was a big lure. She’d known too many not-so-decent people.

She leaned her forehead against the steering wheel. He had to be especially lonely now. The hours must drag by as he waited for word.

She resigned herself to the inevitable, started her car then eased into traffic.

Heath eyed the telephone on the desk beside him. If Cassie had news she would call. He knew that. But the waiting was almost too much to handle. She’d called once today to say she had nothing to report. That was hours ago.

He shoved away from his desk. He couldn’t work.

After Kyle died Heath had thrown himself into work, resting only when he fell asleep at the computer. Mary Ann had left him the day of the funeral. It should have been the least creative, least productive time of his career. Instead he’d overflowed with ideas. He’d designed buildings that would never be built, futuristic-looking skyscrapers beyond man’s ability to engineer. But he’d also produced winning, workable designs—buildings he’d never seen except in video, whether already constructed or under construction now.

A psychologist would undoubtedly tell him it was avoidance, that he was only delaying his grief by immersing himself in work. And to a psychologist, that might be the easy truth. Heath knew it was much more complicated.

When Eva told him she was pregnant he was stunned at first, then in denial. But he’d come to believe that the child would be his chance to do it over, and do it right.

The doorbell rang. He dragged himself out of his office, grabbing his wallet as he went. He’d ordered dinner from Villa Romano.

It wasn’t the delivery boy at the door, however.

“Am I interrupting you?” Cassie asked.

Except for the fact she was wearing a blue shirt instead of white, she was dressed as she had been yesterday. Her uniform, he decided. Damn but it looked good on her. He tried to read her expression. Do you have good news for me or bad?

He fought the urge to take her in his arms. His need for human touch—her touch—came from out of the blue.

“I’m sorry,” she said, angling as if to leave. “I should’ve called.”

He’d stared at her in silence for too long. She didn’t know he was fighting a rush of feeling for her—the last thing he needed right then. Especially since he couldn’t define what that feeling was.

“No. Cassie, I’m glad to see you.”

A refurbished postal Jeep left dust in its wake as it sped up the driveway and came to a quick stop.

“Dinner,” Heath told Cassie.

“Hey,” said a kid with sixteen or so piercings and tattoos down his arms. He hopped onto the porch. “How’s it goin’?”

Heath traded the boy money for the take-out containers. “Thanks.”

He jogged off with a backward wave.

Heath moved aside to let Cassie in.

“I was presumptuous,” she said.

“Not at all.” He waited for her to say something about Eva. Anything.

“I don’t have any news to speak of,” she said, following him into the kitchen. “I made a lot of calls to obstetricians’ offices, without results.”

He wondered how many more blows he would have to take. Damn you, Eva. “Would you like a beer or something?”

“No, thanks.” She leaned against the counter. “I went to her previous apartment, but I didn’t find anyone at home who remembered her. I’ll go back tomorrow when I might catch a few more tenants. Of course people are often out running errands on Saturday, but it’s worth a shot.”

“Okay.”

“I contacted her business school, but they’re on a two-week break before the next semester. They wouldn’t tell me if she was registered. Then I went to the two maternity-wear consignment shops. One of the clerks recognized her photo but said she hadn’t been in for a couple of months. Which makes sense. At some point, you’ve got enough maternity clothes. Anyway, I left her my card and asked her to call if Eva came back.”

“You were busy.”

“Yeah. And just before I came here, I met Darcy. Eva left the apartment a month ago, no notice. Darcy doesn’t know where she went, and she’s pretty ticked off that she’s been left with the full rent to pay.”

“Too ticked off to give you any information?”

“I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know anything, but I’ll try her again, too. She may know more than she thinks.”

He opened a bottle of beer for himself. If Darcy didn’t have any information, what chance did they have? Eva could be anywhere. With anyone. He may never see his baby. Ever.

What the hell had he done to deserve this? Hadn’t he paid a big enough price already? He took a long swig of beer then plunked the bottle on the counter.

Cassie rested her hand on his. “We’ll find them. We will.”

He didn’t pull his hand away, but he tried to figure her out. “You could’ve called and told me this, Cassie.”

She straightened, probably because he’d sounded accusatory. “I could have.”

Why didn’t you? “I’ve got enough ravioli for two,” he said by way of invitation, testing the waters.

She hesitated. They seemed to do that a lot with each other.

“I appreciate the offer,” she said, “but I need to get going.”

He’d read her wrong. It only served to frustrate him more. “Just thought I’d ask.”

“Thanks.” She walked out of the kitchen.

He followed. His mood, not good to start with, got blacker. Just yesterday he’d been glad she was the investigator on his case. Now he wasn’t sure.

“I don’t know how much I can do until Monday and the doctors’ offices are open again. I contacted every local hospital and will continue to do so,” she said.

She’d been as efficient as he’d expected. But he still didn’t know why she’d come instead of called, especially since she wouldn’t even share dinner with him.

She waited, apparently giving him the opportunity to say something. When he didn’t, she opened the door and stepped outside. It was a beautiful evening, warm and breezy, a good night for driving the silver convertible parked in his garage. The one he hadn’t driven in three years. The one that undoubtedly wouldn’t start. He should take care of that.

“I’m sorry,” Cassie said, then walked away.

“For what?”

“For disturbing your evening.”

He didn’t tell her she was wrong, because she had disturbed his evening—and he liked the disturbance. But it was better that she leave.

He watched her walk away, her pace even quicker than usual. He’d never been drawn to a woman this fast before. He’d known Mary Ann for months before they dated. Eva hadn’t been any temptation at all until almost a year of seeing her once a week and then only because of her overt come-on. But Cassie—

She was gone. He returned to the house to wait for the phone to ring. He ate dinner because he knew he needed fuel, then he retreated to his office. Midnight came. One o’clock. Two. He fought sleep. Until recently every time he slept he heard Kyle call for him. Daddy. Dad-dy! He woke up sweating and trying to catch his breath. Recently he’d been hearing a baby cry.

He jerked up, hitting his head on his work lamp. The baby was crying again—

No. It was his doorbell. He blinked to clear his eyes and looked at the clock. Four thirty-five. He’d fallen asleep at his worktable.

The bell rang again. He shook his head and hurried out of the room, down the stairs. He glanced out the glass panel next to the door.

Eva. Holding a baby.

Four

Heath yanked open the door. His gaze went to the bundle in Eva’s arms then to her face. Her eyes were blank, her hair straggly, her freckles prominent.

“Come in,” he urged her, picking up the diaper bag she’d set on the ground beside her. He looked over her shoulder and spotted her car. He hadn’t heard her drive up, he’d been so soundly asleep.

He guided her toward the living room. She sat down gingerly. He took a seat beside her and waited, knowing he couldn’t push her for information but wanting to yell at her, Where have you been? Why did you worry me like that?