Page 7 of Hidden With You

ChapterThree

He was chasing a mirage.

He’d caught an enticing glimpse of gold in the distance, standing beside Jamie as if holding court in front of a cluster of guests. He watched for a while, mesmerized by the way she spoke and laughed with the crowd. Then he’d been sidetracked by Ryan again, and by the time he’d reached the group, that blur of gold was long gone, like water teasing a dying man in the desert.

Damn.

Now he shifted directions entirely, then crossed to the opposite side of the massive porch, finally stopping by two women sitting on the edge of the hot tub and sipping wine.

“Have you seen Zelda Clayton?” he asked, but the women only shook their heads, then returned to their conversation about dates gone wrong.

“I mean, there was nothing romantic about the silences,” one said. “Big. Gaping. Pauses at dinner. Not a thing to talk about.”

As Jasper walked away, he wondered what he’d talk about once he found Zelda. Nothing came to mind, but it didn’t matter. He was on a quest now. A foolish one, perhaps, but a quest nonetheless.

The last time he’d put so much mental energy into tracking a woman, it was because he’d been hired to kill her. She’d deserved it. She’d murdered her parents and husband for an inheritance, and his client—the husband’s sister—had been wracked with both grief and fury when the bitch had been allowed to go free, with no criminal charges brought at all.

But while his target’s ill-gotten inheritance might have bought her freedom from a corrupt judicial system, it hadn’t been able to buy her protection from the grieving sister-in-law.

Once he’d completed the job, his client had inherited the fortune. And, as promised, she’d donated every last penny toward housing and healthcare for abandoned children in the UK and adults suffering from Alzheimer's.

As for Jasper, he’d used his extremely large fee to fund his own investigation, finally tracking down an unidentified woman whose picture had been sent to him by an anonymous source, along with a scribbled note: Find her. She knows.

It had taken years before he’d finally been able to confirm her identity as Melinda Barrett and locate her in London.

Melindahadn’t known much, but with her information, he’d forged the next two links in the chain that had drawn him to the States. Now he was trying to track down a sleazy, retired bookkeeper named Tarlton Raleigh. A man about whom Jasper knew next to nothing. Only that he’d retired somewhere in America. That, at least, was a start, and Jasper intended to put Stark Security’s excellent resources to work for him.

With luck, Raleigh would give him the second link that would lead Jasper to finding The Maestro, the shadowy sick fuck of a human who was Jasper’s ultimate prey. The dead man walking who had killed his family. Who’d made them suffer.

And against whom Jasper was going to extract sweet, painful revenge.

He exhaled, letting the memory and anger flow out of him. Today wasn’t about retribution, and Zelda had nothing to do with his family’s death. She played no role in his mission. Yet there she was, filling his thoughts. And damned if she wasn’t a welcome distraction from the pain and loss and memories that usually weighed him down.

And so he was going to find her. Touch her. He didn’t know why it was so important. He wasn’t prone to infatuation, and he didn’t believe in fate. But something about her had called to him. She’d become a talisman. If he could find the elusive woman in gold, then surely he could also, finally, track down The Maestro.

“Or maybe you’re just losing it, Kent,” he said, only realizing he’d spoken aloud when he heard the chuckle behind him. He turned to face Quincy Radcliffe and his wife, Eliza.

“I always said you were a bit mad,” Quincy said, even as Eliza pulled Jasper into a hug.

“It’s so great to see you again,” she said, offering him the wide smile he remembered from the few times he’d joined her and Quincy for drinks in London’s financial district. “Let me guess,” she continued, pulling away with a stern expression, softened only by the gleam of amusement in her sky-blue eyes and the tease of the dimple in her cheek. “You were never really in finance either.”

Jasper eyed Quincy. “I always told you she was both smart and a keeper. And no. I wasn’t in finance. I served in MI6 just like your husband.”

“So you left Queen and country to work for the SSA?”

“Actually, I left years ago. Been working freelance security.” He didn’t mention that he’d been working primarily as an assassin, using the extremely high fees he commanded to fund his search for the man who murdered his family. Not a career choice he talked about, but he needed the cash. And he was very selective about the jobs he accepted, taking cases only where the justice system had failed and a vile criminal was walking free.

Considering the rumors about Quincy’s former work with an organization called Deliverance, Jasper was sure his friend would understand. Eliza, however, might not.

“Congratulations, by the way,” he continued. “I heard through the grapevine that you two had found each other again after my idiot friend here bailed on you. I’m really glad.”

“Me, too,” she said as Quincy drew her close in a way that made Jasper’s heart ache. He’d had that once. A love that was both easy and intense, sweet and wild, deep and all-consuming and painfully, wonderfully real. A once-in-a-lifetime love that he would cherish always. He’d never feel that way again, he knew that. But as a vision of Zelda filled his thoughts, he knew that at least he could take the edge off.

He took a step to the side, intending to make some excuse so that he could continue looking for the gold-clad writer, but then Quincy lifted his hand in greeting to someone approaching from behind. Jasper turned, hoping it was her, only to find himself looking at a green-eyed man with dark blond hair and a surfer’s build.

“Simon Barré,” the surfer said. “You’re the new guy?”

Jasper shook Simon’s extended hand. “Looks that way.”