Found Wanting

  FOUND WANTING

  By Joyce Lamb

  What others say about FOUND WANTING

  “Top-notch suspense as believable characters in an action-packed plot will enthrall readers. Like Tami Hoag and Iris Johansen, Lamb weaves the textures of romance and suspense together in a satisfying read.”

  -- Booklist

  “An exhilarating romantic suspense starring a wonderful female protagonist.” -- Harriet Klausner

  “Found Wanting is one of the best romantic suspense novels I have ever read!”

  -- Romance Junkies

  “(Lamb) excels at giving her readers complex, dark drama coated with lots of intrigue.” -- Romantic Times

  “A chilling suspense ... an exceptional story.” -- Love Romances

  Found Wanting

  Copyright 2004 Joyce Lamb

  Relative Strangers excerpt

  Copyright 2002 Joyce Lamb

  Other books by Joyce Lamb

  Caught in the Act (now in e-book for the first time)

  Cold Midnight (Berkley Sensation paperback)

  True Vision (Berkley Sensation paperback)

  True Colors (Berkley Sensation paperback)

  True Shot (Berkley Sensation paperback coming in December 2011)

  FOUND WANTING

  Prologue

  When the doorbell rang, Alaina stopped dusting, slightly annoyed at the interruption. She had only begun cleaning, and because it was one of her least favorite things to do, it had been hard to get motivated. Pausing at the stereo to turn down Bruce Springsteen's Born to Run, she mentally prepared the usual excuses as she went to the door.

  "I bought from the kid down the street."

  "My child is selling them, too."

  "Have all the magazines I need, thanks."

  "My higher power is chocolate."

  But when she opened the door to the icy Colorado air, she wasn't prepared for the woman shivering on her porch. She had not seen her in nine years, had thought she would never see her again.

  The woman, overcome by emotion, threw her arms around Alaina. Alaina didn't hug her back. Instead, she pulled her mother into the apartment and, after scanning the quiet apartment complex to see whether they had been observed, shut the door. Her hands on her mother's arms, Alaina gave her a slight shake. "How did you find me? Were you followed?"

  "Followed? Why would I be followed?"

  "Just answer me. How did you find me?" She checked her watch. Jonah was due home from school in half an hour.

  "A private detective found you." Seeming to regain her composure, Eve smiled through her tears and grasped Alaina's face in her palms. "Look at you. You're so grown up, so beautiful." Tears welled again. "Your father's eyes."

  Alaina noticed that the past nine years had ruthlessly aged her mother. She was only in her middle fifties, but she looked eighty, her face creased and sagging with exhaustion. Last time Alaina had seen her, her hair had been a chestnut brown, but now it was pure white. And bags underscored her sad, faded blue eyes.

  "What private detective, Mother? Someone you hired?"

  "Yes, of course. Someone I hired."

  "Did you tell anyone you were coming to see me?"

  "No. I told them I had a fundraising conference." Eve was the wife of a corporate CEO, and she'd chosen charity as her career, using the power and influence of her husband to benefit the underprivileged.

  "What about Addison?"

  "No, I didn't tell your sister."

  Alaina turned away, jammed a hand through her hair. Another look at the clock. Twenty-five minutes before Jonah was due. Ten minutes earlier, and she could have picked him up at school before he got on the bus.

  It didn't matter that her mother said she had told no one. They would have to move -- again. Resigned, she went into Jonah's bedroom, grabbed the suitcase out of his closet and started throwing in clothes. Her hands were shaking, her heart hammering. She didn't think, just plowed through the same routine she had plowed through just a year before in Madison, Wisconsin.

  "What are you doing, Ali?" Eve asked from Jonah's bedroom door, then she seemed to notice the room, and her expression turned wistful. "Where is my grandson?"

  Ali. She hadn't been called that in fourteen years. Because she wasn't that person anymore. Alaina glanced at her mother, saw that her eyes had teared up, then went back to her furious packing. Eve had never understood and never would, so Alaina didn't bother trying to explain.

  "It's time for you to come home, Ali," Eve said. "It's time for you to bring Jonah home."

  Alaina stopped packing to stare at her mother. "And you think all will be forgotten the minute I walk in the door?"

  Eve's lower lip trembled. "I miss you. Your father misses you."

  Alaina snorted. "Yeah, right."

  Eve stepped into the room. "We'll work it out. Your father --"

  Alaina whirled on her. "I can never come home, Mother. I'm a fugitive. The minute I show up, I'll be arrested." She snapped the suitcase closed, dropped it by the door and went into her own bedroom to begin emptying drawers.

  Eve, looking appalled, followed. "I don't understand why you would think that. Yes, you made mistakes, but there's no --"

  "Hello, ladies."

  Whirling from the closet, Alaina saw him blocking the door. She didn't waste time on surprise or fear. She just lunged for the bedside table, fumbled with the drawer and had the gun in her hand before he could grab her. Cocking it, she aimed it at his chest, praying he wouldn't call the bluff. There wasn't a bullet in the house.

  Layton Keller raised his hands, palms out, a relaxed smile on his lips. Alaina's finger flexed on the trigger, and for a moment, she wished for bullets. She and Jonah would never have to run again.

  Eve stared at her daughter in astonishment. "What on earth are you doing?"

  "Don't come any closer," Alaina said to Layton. "I'll shoot."

  Layton's smile spread. "Sure you will." He was as handsome as ever. Blond hair and blue eyes, square jaw and perfect, white teeth. He worked out regularly, not an ounce of fat on his hard, lean body. She remembered his strength, remembered how powerless she'd been beneath him. The gun started to shake, and she braced it with both hands.

  "Would you mind leaving Alaina and me alone? There's something we need to talk about," he said to Eve, ever the gentleman. He had won over hundreds with his charm and good looks. He knew how to get what he wanted, and if he didn't get it, he took it. By brute force.

  When Eve didn't move, Layton tossed car keys at her. "My car is parked out front. Why don't you go wait in it? We'll be out in just a few minutes."

  Eve glanced at her daughter, clearly shocked by the weapon in Alaina's hands.

  "Just go," Alaina said, not wanting her mother to get caught in any crossfire.

  Eve backed out of the room, and Layton kicked the door shut behind her. "Alone at last," he said, grinning. "I've missed you, Ali. I've missed your fire, your passion." He positioned himself in front of the door, the only escape route. "When does he get home?" he asked.

  She gauged she had fifteen minutes before her nine-year-old son charged through the door. "He's staying at a friend's house until tomorrow."

  "You're a terrible liar. Pity that no one ever saw that but me." He stepped toward her, his grin broadening when she edged back. "No bullets, huh?"

  She threw the gun at his head. He ducked, charged her. She had nowhere to go. He caught her around the middle, threw her onto the bed and, as she tried to scrabble away, straddled her. The air lodged in her chest, and Alaina fought the violent memory of him on top of her a decade ago. She clawed at his face and got only air. He backhanded her twice before she lay still, stunned and tasting blood.

  Breathing heavily, he pinned her hands on either side of h
er head. "Ah, memories."

  He nuzzled her neck, and panic choked her. Not again. God, not again.

  "You changed your perfume," he said near her ear. "I like it much better than that cheap, lemony scent you used to wear."

  Biting back the fear, she tried to focus on figuring out how to get him out of the house.

  He smiled down at her, his eyes as empty and cold as ever. "What? You don't recall our night together as fondly as I do? Then perhaps a re-enactment is in order." With one hand, he ripped her blouse open.

  Alaina shrieked in rage, gnashed her teeth, snarled at him. Her fist glanced off his temple before he restrained it again. Rearing up, she slammed the top of her head into his chin and saw stars. He grunted once before toppling sideways off the bed. Alaina didn't comprehend what had happened until she saw her mother standing over him with a heavy, cast-iron skillet held high in one hand, ready to nail him again if he moved.

  Rolling off the other side of the bed, Alaina gained her feet for only a moment before her knees buckled. She caught herself against the dresser. She was going to be sick. Dammit, no time, no time. Still, the room was spinning, turning gray.

  Then Eve was beside her. "Put your head between your knees."

  Alaina pushed her mother away.

  Only when the strength drained out of Alaina's limbs was Eve able to shove her daughter's head down. As the blood flowed back into her brain, Alaina took several deep breaths. She saw Layton sprawled beside the bed. "Is he dead?"

  "He's breathing," Eve said.

  Alaina pushed to her feet. "Jonah will be here any minute." She looked down at her shredded blouse. Yanking it off, she replaced it with a T-shirt from the dresser. Her hands weren't steady. She couldn't think, didn't know what to do next.

  Then the front door banged open, and his voice called out to her. "Mom!"

  The moment snapped back into place. Alaina looked at her mother, saw tears on her face. "We have to go."

  Eve nodded, her eyes sober. "I understand."

  Alaina thought she really did. After so many years, so many lies. All it had taken was seeing her son-in-law in action. Her fear for Jonah propelled her toward the door, but she didn't know what to say to her mother.

  Eve waved her on. "Hurry. Don't let him see this." She nodded at Layton. "I'll make sure he stays put."

  Alaina intercepted Jonah in the hallway. He was grinning, his blond hair wind-tousled, his beautiful blue eyes bright with excitement. When he saw her, his grin faded. "What happened to your face?" he asked.

  Alaina hugged him. "I'm okay, sweetie. I'm okay."

  "Are we moving again?" he asked, his voice wavering.

  She nodded, unable to speak. Already, he knew the routine. It broke her heart.

  She sent him after the suitcase in his room and tried to plan. But there wasn't time. They would get in the car and go. Where didn't matter. Just going mattered. They would start another new life in another new place where they would be safe again.

  At least for a while.

  Chapter 1

  Five years later

  "Looks like a doozy of a storm's rolling in," Rachel Boyd said as she cupped a hand around a lighter and touched flame to the tip of her Virginia Slim.

  From their vantage point on the roof of the Tribune building, Alaina looked to the west, saw the rolling clouds that looked black because the sun still shone. Lightning flashed among them. The weather was unseasonably warm -- in the upper 60s -- for Chicago at the end of March, and WGN's chief meteorologist had announced the night before that a cold front was moving in, stirring up severe thunderstorms. The month was not going to go out like a lamb.

  At the moment, Alaina and her co-worker were escaping the bustling newsroom so Rachel could take a smoke break. Alaina shielded her eyes against the sun as she glanced at her friend. Gorgeous. That's what she thought when she looked at Rachel. She had the presence of a movie star, a charisma that ingratiated her to others and intimidated them at the same time.

  Alaina envied Rachel's curves, her short, naturally curly, blond hair, and her sky-blue eyes. Next to Rachel, Alaina felt like a boy. A dull one at that. Her own body was small and compact, athletic. Where Rachel looked soft and feminine, Alaina was firm and toned. She worked hard to stay in shape, believing that when it came time to run again -- either from Layton or the feds -- she had to be in tip-top physical condition. Her hair, so dark it was nearly black, was no-nonsense, falling straight to her shoulders without a wave in sight.

  It was good, she had decided long ago, that she didn't look like Rachel, who could have never blended into a crowd.

  The two women met five years ago on Alaina's first day as a copy editor. She'd had a new name, a new home, a new job and a resolve to keep her distance. Getting close to co-workers, neighbors or other parents at Jonah's school wasn't an option after she'd found out the hard way what could happen to people she cared about. She'd had no problem sticking to that rule in Colorado. But Rachel had been hungry for a buddy in a newsroom dominated by fortysomethings and married couples. She had pursued Alaina like a potential mate, inviting her to lunch, dinner and on breaks at every opportunity. Rachel was so engaging, so fun, and Alaina was so lonely, that eventually she was the one seeking out her new friend. She reasoned that the friendship would stay within the confines of work, that Rachel would not be at risk that way.

  Then one night, after Alaina had dodged invitations to movies and other social activities for six months, Rachel had shown up at her apartment with takeout Thai and a video of Terminator. The instant Jonah had ambled into the living room, Rachel fell head over heels for him. She quickly became the aunt Jonah had never had, and Alaina hadn't been able to deny him, or herself. She still kept a certain distance. For instance, she'd turned down Rachel's offer to share a townhouse to cut down on expenses. While she had appreciated the suggestion, Alaina had worried that such proximity to her and Jonah would have been too great a risk for Rachel.

  "Hey, Alex. Earth to Alex."

  Alaina glanced up. Even after so many years of answering to the different name, it still caught her off guard sometimes. "I'm sorry. What?"

  "I asked what you and Jonah are doing for dinner," Rachel said as she blew out smoke. "Assuming you're not stuck here too much longer."

  Alaina checked her watch. A computer network crash had thrown her schedule off by at least an hour. "I'm picking him up at Lucas' for our Wednesday night out. Want to go?"

  "I think you should ask Lucas' dad to go," Rachel said, wiggling her eyebrows. "He's such a hottie."

  Alaina rolled her eyes. "You're worse than Jonah. He keeps hinting at what a great dad Grant is to Lucas and how much I'd like him if I got to know him more."

  Rachel beamed. "That's my Jonah. He's looking out for you."

  "Maybe I don't need to be looked out for."

  "I think you do. And you can't blame me for wanting my best friend to get laid. You're too uptight all the time."

  "Please."

  "Trust me," Rachel said, "sex is therapeutic. I would know. I've needed a lot of therapy in my thirty-two years. So what's the matter with him?"

  Alaina laughed. "Nothing."

  "Well, it can't be that dark wavy hair or those gorgeous green eyes. And there's no doubt he works out, judging by the way his ribbed shirts hug his pecs. Too much emotional baggage?"

  Alaina shrugged. "Some. His wife died a couple years ago."

  "What's he do again?"

  "He's some kind of big executive at Boeing."

  "Hmm," Rachel mused. "Rich, handsome and widowed. For God's sake, leap on him."

  "I don't leap."

  "Hell, when it comes to men, you don't even take baby steps." Rachel flicked away her cigarette. "Whoever the asshole was, I hope he rots in hell."

  The venom in her friend's voice surprised Alaina. "Excuse me?"

  "The chump who made you afraid of men. Jonah's father, I presume."

  Uncomfortable, Alaina curled her fingers around the railing that
edged the roof. This was shaky ground, and she was not sure how to navigate it. She had not shared her history with Rachel. She didn't see the point. "I'm not afraid --"

  "Alex."

  They both looked toward the co-worker who had stuck her head out the roof-access door. "A couple guys in the lobby are asking to see you. They're flashing FBI badges."

  Rachel shot Alaina a look of feigned shock. "You wanted by the law?" she asked.

  Alaina didn't acknowledge the joke, her heart thundering as she started for the door. "I have to go." She paused, wanting to tell Rachel that she wouldn't be back, that they likely would never see each other again. "Take care."

  As she walked away, she heard Rachel call her name -- or rather, the name she had adopted half a decade ago -- but didn't look back.

  It surprised her that after all this time the FBI was still searching for her and Jonah. It surprised her more that it had taken them so long to track her down.

  As she raced to gather up her purse and jacket, she wondered how much time she had. It would take her at least an hour to get to Mount Prospect, where Jonah was with Lucas. The knot in her stomach tightened as she wondered how long ago the feds had found her. If it had been days, they might already know where Jonah was. They might have already gotten to him.

  As she hurried outside, fat raindrops began to splatter the pavement. The Metra train station was a twenty-minute walk from the newspaper. Pausing impatiently on the street corner, she figured she could run it in five. The "don't walk" sign blared red. Glancing up the street, she blinked against the driving rain, saw no traffic coming, and stepped off the curb.

  * * *

  Approaching the street corner, Mitch Kane hunched his shoulders against the torrential rain. He'd been downright toasty inside the coffee bar next to the Tribune building, only mildly curious about the break in her routine. Usually, she would be out with her son by now. That was the Wednesday routine: work early, pick up her son at the home of his friend, go out for dinner, then participate in some kind of activity together. Last week, they'd kicked a soccer ball around at a local park. The week before, the two had chowed down at a neighborhood pizza joint, then caught an early-evening showing of the latest Tom Cruise action flick.