Four Seconds to Lose

I keep reaching into my purse for my phone, only to realize that I don’t have one anymore. Nor do I have a driver’s license or a credit card, or a social security number, or a passport. It’s all gone, cut up into small pieces and burned.

I am no one.

I strip all the covers off the bed and pull on a T-shirt of Cain’s that I had in my car, inhaling the fresh, woodsy smell until my lungs feel like they’re about to explode.

Aside from my memories, this is all I have left of him. Even if I don’t wash it, I wonder how long it will be before his scent is gone.

I burst out in a fresh round of ragged sobs at the thought, my arms clinging to my body as if the act will keep me together.

As if it will keep my heart from falling apart.

Chapter forty-three

CAIN

“I’ve been on that guy for almost two weeks, Cain. I’m telling you, he’s barely left his place. Aside from the hooker he picked up two nights ago and a trip to the grocery store for two steaks, one bag of jerky, two pound of bacon, three dozen eggs, one pack of ­burgers . . .” John ticks off Ronald Sullivan’s grocery list on his fingers to prove how good of a detective he really is, adding, “Oh, and a jug of OJ to round out his dietary needs. Aside from that, he hasn’t left his apartment. I’ve got a GPS on his car for the times when I have to do things like use the can or grab some food. Or, dare I say, sleep.”

I’ve been riding John pretty hard these past two weeks. He’s staying at my condo, but he’s rarely there. “Don’t you think that’s weird?” I say.

“Of course it is! But unless he leads me somewhere, he’s useless.”

“Cell phone?”

“One that he uses to phone his mother, upstate. If he’s into what you say he is, then he won’t use his own phone. Not unless he’s an idiot.” John shrugs. “You know, if Charlie is involved and she disappeared, they could be laying low for a bit, until they know their doors aren’t about to be busted down by a raid.”

He has a point.

“Yeah . . .” I sigh, just as a knock sounds on my office door. Ginger’s head pokes in. She flashes John a wide, playful smile as she strolls in, her curvy frame in a pink dress holding his eye. “We’ve gotta go, Cain. The ceremony is in half an hour.” Her voice has taken on an unusually soft timber around me since Charlie left. I don’t know if it has more to do with feeling bad for me or feeling bad in general. The two of them had grown close as well. I haven’t told her anything about my suspicions about Charlie and, surprisingly, she hasn’t asked.

The last thing I want to be doing right now is going to a wedding. Right now, I’d rather climb into my car and drive over to Ronald Sullivan’s house to knock the answer out of him. But this is Storm and Dan. I’d never miss this day.

“Come on, date.” Ginger reaches out to help me out of my seat, pulling on my arm as I reluctantly follow. I was supposed to take Charlie with me to this and we both know it. I think that’s why Ginger insisted on meeting me here and driving with me. I closed Penny’s for the night. She probably figured I’d be at the bottom of my bottle by mid-afternoon.

I have to admit, the idea was tempting.

Her fingers reach for my tie, adjusting it. “You look dashing tonight, boss.” She smiles, holding her arm out. I take it and let her lead me out with a knowing glance over my shoulder at John.

“You know where to find me,” he mutters with a groan as he gets to his feet.

“Congratulations, man.” I throw an arm over Dan’s shoulder in a loose hug. I truly do mean it, despite my personal turmoil. Seeing Storm under that gazebo today, wearing a white dress and a beaming smile, gave me a moment of respite.

“Thanks,” Dan offers with a chuckle as he glances over at his bride, posing with Kacey and Livie—her bridesmaids—out on the beach. It’s just the two of us, standing off to the side, as a crowd of guests mingle and laugh. He pauses, as if he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. Finally he asks, “Have you heard from Charlie at all?”

“No.” They all know she’s gone. Even Ben has gone out of his way not to antagonize me, and I doubt it has anything to do with trying to impress the cute date from his law firm with his good behavior.

No one knows why she left, and I’m sure as hell not telling my DEA agent friend.

“And John hasn’t been able to find any trace of her?” Dan pushes.

I sigh. Dan came by the club the other day to check up on me and John just happened to swing by. I introduced him as an old friend, visiting, but Dan had him pegged as an investigator within two minutes. He also figured out that John probably doesn’t use the most conventional, law-abiding methods to find the information he obtains for me.

“She’s gone out of her way to make sure I don’t find her, Dan. Not much I can do now.” There is no trace of Charlie. She has quite literally disappeared.

Dan nods slowly. When I turn to look at him, he averts his eyes. It takes him beginning to bite his lower lip to kick my instincts into gear. “What do you know, Dan?”

Sliding a hand through his buzz-cut hair, Dan finally heaves a sigh. “I’ll come by Penny’s tomorrow afternoon, okay?”

I fight the urge to grab him by his lapel. “What do you—”

“It’s my wedding day.” Dan shakes his head firmly. “Tomorrow. Let’s get into this tomorrow. Not tonight. Nothing I know will be of any use to you in finding her, anyway.”

I watch him walk away, wondering how the hell he has anything on her at all. How much does he know? How long has he known? Did he know before me and not tell me? The silent barrage of questions are still assaulting me as my phone begins vibrating in my pocket.

“Is he on the move?”

“No, but . . . something has come up.” A deep inhale into my phone tells me John has news for me and it’s not good. I turn and begin walking down the beach, away from the crowd. “I just got a call from my buddy. Human remains were found six months back in a national park outside Augusta, Maine. Results just came in. Dental records match those of Charlie Rourke from Indianapolis. Died approximately four years ago from blunt trauma to the back of the skull.”

My stomach drops. I suspected it, but . . . now I have the proof.

Charlie was never Charlie Rourke to begin with.

I’m in love with her and I don’t even know her real name.

“They’re trying to pin it on the father but so far, he’s not admitting to anything. According to the reports, he seemed shocked when they started questioning him. Says he remembers being at work the night his daughter disappeared. They’re checking into his alibi.”

“So, Charlie . . .” I grimace. “My Charlie somehow ended up with the full identification of a dead girl.”

“Yup. That’s not easy to do, especially as doctored as it was.”

I glance over at Dan as he lays a deep kiss on his wife’s lips in front of a cheering crowd. What does he have on her? Will he even tell me? After all, I’ve never helped him when he asked for information. Fuck, I wouldn’t blame him for not telling me a damn thing.

Tonight’s going to be the longest night of my life. For a split second, I think about going to Vicki’s house. I deleted her phone number but I know where she lives. I quickly dismiss that idea. I don’t think I could even get it up.