get the Mexican government to drop the charges?”
“With no body and no evidence of foul play, they couldn’t keep me. Although I barely got out of Mexico.”
“So why is this all surfacing again?”
“Her fiancé, Emilio Montalvo,” Hank slid a blurry picture of a Hispanic man in front of Hank, “had connections deep in the Mexican Mafia. He swore when he found Alana, he’d make us both pay. I stayed away from her, sure that any contact with her would put her at risk of him finding her. I didn’t know she’d had a child and the child was PJ until last year.”
“How did you find out?”
Hank’s gaze dropped to the empty coffee mug in his hand. “I found out when Terri Franks, a woman I barely knew who’d worked at the resort for the past eight years, died.”
“PJ’s adoptive mother.” Chuck’s gaze slipped from Hank to PJ, headed their way with a carafe of coffee.
Hank turned a smile toward PJ as she stopped to fill his cup.
“Ready to order?” PJ directed her question to Hank, refusing to lock gazes with Chuck.
They had a lot to discuss, but Chuck didn’t want to do it in public. It would wait until that evening when he could get her alone.
Hank and Chuck ordered breakfast, and PJ walked away.
“How did you find out PJ was Alana’s daughter, not Terri’s?”
“I received a package in the mail from Terri Franks’s attorney. In it was a letter from Alana, asking me to look out for her daughter should anything happen to Terri. In the letter Terri left with her lawyer, she explained how she’d been PJ’s nanny when they lived out in Arizona. Alana had arranged to have Terri adopt PJ if something should happen to her. I only wish I’d known then.”
“Why do you think the hacking into the adoption agency’s files points to you and PJ?”
“My corporate and personal computer systems were also maliciously hacked. All the data was downloaded to some site in Mexico.”
“Was your letter from Alana in those files?”
“No.”
“Then how would the hacker connect you to PJ?”
“PJ doesn’t know it, but the scholarship she’s going to school on comes from one of my corporations. The bank statements and money trail were part of the system hacked.”
“Any leads on who might be hacking into your system, or who might want to hurt PJ?”
“Anyone could be getting to me by targeting PJ.”
Chuck drummed his fingers on the table. “But hacking into the adoption files...that makes it a little more personal.”
Hank nodded. “Exactly.”
“You think Alana’s ex-fiancé might have traced PJ through the adoption agency?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“How long ago did you say it was when you helped this woman, Alana?”
Hank stared across the table at Chuck. “Twenty-six years ago.”
Chuck did the math in his head. PJ had turned twenty-five while he’d been in Afghanistan. His gut tightened. “The next question—and I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it might be important—but just who is PJ’s father?”
The older man opened his mouth and then closed it and smiled, his head turning toward the woman in question.
“Your breakfast.” PJ set a steaming plate of eggs, sunny-side up, in front of Hank and one in front of Chuck, her arm brushing against his, sending sensual shock waves across his senses.
Chuck’s fingers tightened on the napkin in his lap to keep from reaching out and pulling PJ into his arms.
PJ jerked her arm back, her eyes flaring wide for a moment. Her chest rose and fell on a deep breath. “Is there anything else I can get you?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“No, thank you,” Hank answered for them both.
Chuck couldn’t speak, his throat tight around his vocal cords. He wanted to hold PJ so badly, he had to remain completely still or risk leaping from his seat and taking her into his arms.
When PJ turned and hurried away, Chuck let go of the breath he’d been holding and faced Hank. “Were you and Alana more than just acquaintances?”
Hank nodded.
“So PJ could be your and Alana’s daughter.”
The older man lifted his fork and put it down again. “I don’t know. Without informing PJ of our connection, I don’t know how to get a sample for DNA testing. If she’s my daughter, she runs the risk of kidnapping attempts.”
“Like your wife and son...” Chuck had heard about Hank’s family before he’d deployed. Everyone in Wild Oak Canyon knew they’d disappeared two years ago and Hank had been looking for them ever since.
Hank stared across the table at Chuck, his face haggard, older than his fifty-something years. “I couldn’t bear for her to be hurt because of me.”
“You need to tell her,” Chuck said.
“When I know for sure.”
“The only way you’ll know for sure is to do DNA testing. You’d have to tell her something to get the sample you need.”
Hank threw his napkin on the table, his brows furrowed. “I couldn’t bear it if someone targeted another person because of me.”
“She might not be yours at all. Alana could have had another relationship with someone else shortly after disappearing.”
Hank’s eyes narrowed. “Then why leave the letter for me?”
“She counted on you to help.” Chuck stared across the room at PJ, leaning close to an elderly woman, taking her order. “What if PJ is the ex-fiancé’s daughter?”
“Things might get even worse.” Hank’s lips tightened. “He’ll want what is his and will stop at nothing to take her and the child.”
Chapter Four
PJ felt as if she was walking on eggshells the entire time Chuck and Hank were eating their breakfast. Several times she fumbled coffee mugs, almost dropping them.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Cara Jo rested a hand on her arm. “The world will not come to an end because the old fiancé is back in town.”
“I know. But we haven’t had the talk yet. I don’t know what he’s going to want in the way of visitation with Charlie.” PJ wrung her hands, staring at Chuck’s back. “He might sue for custody, for all I know.”
Cara Jo clucked her tongue. “Don’t borrow trouble, sweetie. He doesn’t strike me as the vindictive type.”
“No, but he’s always wanted children. He’ll want to be a part of Charlie’s life.”
“And that’s a problem?” Cara Jo’s brows rose. “Honey, a girl needs a daddy in her life. Not that you wouldn’t do a good job of raising her. But having a good male role model sets her up for future relationships and expectations of the kind of men she should date.”
“Charlie’s only three months old, for God’s sake.” PJ flung her hands in the air. “I’m not ready for my baby to start dating.”
Cara Jo chuckled. “I know. But having a good role model early in her life gives her a firm foundation when it comes to the kind of guy she might one day marry.”
PJ pinched the bridge of her nose, a headache forming at the thought of Charlie as a teen. “I don’t want