“What do you mean, warnings?” Ryan asked.
“Anonymous phone calls, mostly,” Kari answered. “They never referenced your name, Kate, but they said to keep what we knew about the nursing home to ourselves. That it would be in Tom’s best interest not to be involved if word of the study leaked.”
“Then why did you suggest I see a lawyer?”
Tom sighed. “I wanted to help. I saw how frustrated you were. I thought maybe if you could find the answers on your own, if I wasn’t directly involved, it wouldn’t hurt to give you a little push. I didn’t know the lawyer you picked was going to recognize you.”
So Kate was the link. If she hadn’t come to San Francisco, if she’d never called Simone and scheduled that appointment, if Simone hadn’t recognized her, it was likely none of this would be happening now. The lies would still be truth.
Ryan looked to Kari. “Did anyone else visit Katie at the nursing home, that you know of?”
Kari bit her lip. “There was another man, older, white hair, large build. And a young woman once that I remember. Other than that, I’m not sure. Kate was there for a long time, though.”
An older man and a young woman. That could be anyone.
“I’m not much help, I’m afraid,” Kari said softly. “My memories from that time are pretty vague.”
The anger seeped out, was replaced by a weary disappointment. Everything Kate discovered just seemed to confuse her more. She was learning the how but not the why.
“No.” Kate blinked back frustrated tears. “You’ve been a big help.”
“Kate.” Tom stepped around the couch.
Out of the corner of her eye, Kate caught Ryan’s tense shoulders, the way his arms dropped to his side in a protective measure. She held out a hand to stop him and glanced at Tom. “What?”
“If I’d known what was really going on, I wouldn’t have kept quiet. I thought Jake was on the up and up. After your press conference the other day, I knew I needed to find you. To tell you what I knew. I’ve been trying to get hold of you since.”
So many lies. Every time she turned around, there seemed to be one more, smacking her in the face. She wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. “I need to find the answers, Tom. I’m not going to stop until I do.”
“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to her,” Ryan interjected firmly from across the room. “If anyone tries to hurt her, they’ll have to get through me first.”
There was a warning laced through his words that had both Kate and Tom turning. A muscle in Ryan’s jaw twitched. His eyes hinted of vengeance.
Tom nodded and glanced back at his wife. “I know how you feel. If there’s anything we can do, let us know. We want to help.”
Sweat trickled down Kate’s back under Ryan’s intense gaze. She could see he was serious, that he’d take on anyone who came after her.
And for reasons she couldn’t explain, that knowledge scared her more than what the truth held.
“We’ve been driving around for an hour, sweetheart,” Mitch complained from the passenger seat of Simone’s rented SUV. He flipped the map in his lap, studied street signs, then glanced back down. “Your sense of direction’s crap.”
Simone shot him a less-than-amused look. She was still having trouble dealing with the fact he’d changed his work plans and pushed his way onto this trip with her. Not only was he now seated beside her as they searched for Walter Alexander’s home in the suburbs of Vancouver, he’d waited patiently while she’d finished her business in Seattle. Hadn’t even complained once. She knew he was supposed to be at the Queen Charlotte Sound site doing whatever work an engineering geologist does, but every time she’d brought it up, he’d brushed her off and told her he was right where he was supposed to be.
What kind of man did that?
One who’s crazy about you.
Her pulse picked up speed, and her hands grew sweaty against the wheel.
A minivan? He was clearly certifiable. Problem was, the idea didn’t sound as insane to her as it had before. Which meant he’d sucked her into his alternate reality and that she was certifiable now too.
“Tell you what?” she said, trying not to think about the future and what she was going to do about Mitch Mathews yet. If she did, it’d just make her scream. “If I find it in the next ten minutes, you let me do some shopping on Robson Street before we head home.”
“Fine with me. I’ll hang out in the hotel.”
“We aren’t staying in a hotel, sweetheart.”
“Don’t remind me. I’m already bitter about that fact. My plans to seduce the hell out of you keep getting shot down.”
Seduce the hell out of her? Oh, shit. She was in serious trouble with this one.
“So you’ll come shopping with me,” she said, trying to change the subject.
“I’d rather die a slow and agonizing death at the hands of a sadistic dominatrix.” A grin quirked his lips. “Now there’s a thought.”
She couldn’t help it. She laughed. He was one great big walking hormone. And God help her, she loved it.
“Now, Mitch.” She turned down a side street. “We’ll get to your fantasies later. Right now, we’re talking shopping—just an hour or so of male torture. Trust me, you’ll love it. There are some adorable boutiques on Robson Street.”
“Kill me now. Wait. Do they have a lingerie store?”
Her stomach fluttered. “Probably.”
“Think you can find a little black, lacy number?”
She pulled to a stop in front of a rambling cedar-sided house on a quiet street. “They might not have your size, honey.”
“Very funny.”
“And since I found the house, that hour’s mine.”
He grasped her arm before she could climb from the car and pulled her close. “Take me to that lingerie store, and I’ll make it worth your while.”
The heat from his eyes all but seared her veins. But when he kissed her, she forgot everything. Why they were here, what they were looking for, why the hell falling into a relationship with him was such a bad idea.
When he eased back, his eyes were dancing with a mixture of heat and humor. “Forget black lace. I think I want you in red leather.”
Red leather? Oh, man.
Her nerves were a jangled mess by the time they walked up the front steps and rang the doorbell. She flipped her hair back from her face, straightened her jacket. “Let me do the talking. We don’t need to scare Walter Alexander off first thing.”
“If you use that cool, professional tone on me while wearing red leather lingerie and holding a whip, I’ll definitely listen.”
Her elbow connected with his sternum and he sucked in a breath. But his laughter vibrated through the porch and into her feet, then slithered up to her chest, reminding her just what it was about Mitch Mathews that did it for her. What was likely going to be her undoing if she wasn’t careful.
“God, what is that smell?” Mitch brushed a hand over his nose.
“I don’t know.” Simone leaned her hand against the glass, peeked in a side window. Newspapers littered an antique table. A lime-green crocheted, afghan lay over the side of a chair. A piece of pizza sat atop a paper plate on an end table. Dust littered the surface of most items in the living room. An unopened suitcase was pushed up against the far wall. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s home.”
“I can smell why.”
Foreboding washed over Simone. She jogged down the front steps. A flagstone path graced the side of the house.
“Where are you going?” Mitch asked, following.
She ducked under a low bush and pushed the gate open, giving them access to the backyard. “Reynolds was found in his pool.”