He didn’t step aside. Not even when she was standing directly in front of him. “I mean it, Tabitha. I’m going to see this through with you.” His look was so intense, she had to swallow. Wet her lips.
And then she smiled. “I know,” she said. And she did. Ultimately, Johnny would always do what he said he was going to do. Including taking up his old life as soon as his year was out.
Which meant it would be up to her to set him free.
And she would.
As soon as she figured out how...
Chapter Twelve
Johnny had to hand it to Tabitha. Driving to San Diego, shopping for perishables, working side by side in the rented kitchen on Monday, preparing to open for dinner that evening—during all of it, she was congenial, helpful as always, efficient. She even reminded him to eat something as they cleaned up the day’s leftovers to carry him over until they met Mallory and Braden for a late supper.
Everything the partnership required.
And nothing else.
There were no long glances between them. No touching, not even brushing by each other as they worked in the truck. And not a single word of non-life-quest conversation.
The lady had class.
And enough inner strength to see her through any hurricane that might hit her shores.
She’d also clearly changed toward him since reading his text the night before. The partnership was intact; he couldn’t
say as much for whatever friendship had developed between them. When he’d first seen her standing there, staring at her phone, when she’d looked up at him, he’d been slammed like he’d never been slammed before. It was a look he’d never forget. One he didn’t want to remember. One he wished he’d never seen.
What the hell was going on with him? He didn’t know. But he was going to do something about it. As soon as he figured out what that something was.
Or...he could leave things as they were. Finish out the partnership—nice and clean, based on the day they’d had—and then sever it as planned.
He could if he didn’t constantly have to fight the urge to take her in his arms.
If he didn’t feel the tension in her as they pulled up to the pub to meet Braden and Mallory. The same place they’d been the night they’d met the other couple for the first time.
If he didn’t care so much that she was struggling all alone.
Alistair Montgomery had called that evening as they were parking the truck. Tabitha had heard the PI say that so far, he’d found nothing. He’d even questioned whether Johnny still wanted him on the payroll. According to him, Jason and Matt were a “melt your heart” father and son. Johnny had translated that to melt a judge’s heart. There wasn’t a hint of any cause for a warrant based on the child’s safety or well-being.
He and Johnny both found it odd that, other than one previous address, and his current one, they couldn’t find anything on Matt—no birth certificate and no family that came up when he searched his name, but not all counties had everything available on the internet, and Matt could’ve been born anywhere. Alistair couldn’t find a social security number, which would have allowed him to deepen his search. Maybe he’d only rented places to live and never bought a home or owned a business. The gym he was running wasn’t an LLC, which could be a red flag, but not enough of one to do anything with. It wasn’t illegal not to incorporate. Stupid, maybe. Foolish in terms of federal taxes. But not illegal. If they could find out where he said he was born, they could do more. Or if they knew where he’d gone to school...
Alistair had looked for the death certificate of a woman with the last name of Jamison who’d died a year ago, but had come up with nothing.
Detective Bentley still hadn’t found a birth certificate for Jason.
So they had a last name but, basically, were right back where they’d been without it. If they could find information on the man they could possibly prove that he was who he said he was. But not finding it didn’t mean he was living under an assumed identity. It just meant he’d done nothing in his life that involved easily searchable public records.
Tabitha hadn’t said a word after Montgomery had hung up. Other than to thank him for keeping the investigator on and saying she’d make arrangements to pay his bill.
Johnny had no intention of giving her the bill. But he hadn’t seen much point in saying so at the time.
“Our list is good,” he told her as they exited the vehicle and walked across the parking lot toward their meeting. “Thorough. There’s every chance that if Mark is Matt, they’ll be able to use the list to identify him—or at least ask questions that will lead to evidence that’ll help us.”
Hugging her folder with the printed pages to her purple shirt, she glanced at him. Nodded.
“Jackson will have changed a lot in a year,” he said, keeping pace with her. “Don’t be disappointed if Mallory doesn’t immediately recognize something from that list.”
Her gaze in front of her, she nodded again. Whatever she was thinking, she was keeping to herself. Which made him feel kind of pissed off.