Nan Dixon

Undercover With The Heiress


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little girl bit her lip, staring at Kaden.

      Did she guess she wasn’t safe around him? Somehow kids saw right through him. He forced a smile. She backed closer to her dad and clung to his leg.

      “Hang on. Let me take Issy inside.” Forester pointed to the door the boy had run through.

      Kaden moved to a small ironwork table next to a fountain. If guests tried to eavesdrop on their conversation, the splashing water would muffle their voices.

      Forester didn’t take long. He returned and held out a hand. “I’m Nathan.”

      Kaden had reviewed Nathan Forester’s profile. He was part owner in a family construction company. That explained the sound of the saw in the background when Kaden had called this afternoon.

      Nathan took a seat and stretched out his legs. He didn’t say anything, just waited. The guy’s eyes were clear. He didn’t look like he was a user, but the smartest dealers didn’t use their own product.

      Kaden opened his phone to a picture of Bole. “Do you know this woman?”

      “It’s Heather. Heather Bole. I met her when I worked in Atlanta. We dated about five years ago. Not for long. Then she took off with some guy.” He glanced over at the kitchen door. “Just before summer, she walked into my work site and dropped off Issy. Isabella. Said she’s my daughter. Which I didn’t doubt for a minute.”

      “This was May?” Kaden leaned forward. The timing fit.

      “Yeah.”

      “You didn’t know about your daughter before?” Kaden asked.

      “Her mother never told me.” Nathan ran his fingers through his hair, his lips forming a straight line. “After Heather dropped her off, Issy barely spoke.”

      Didn’t speak? “Did Heather say where she was heading?”

      “She said she’d gotten a DUI and was ordered into treatment, but I couldn’t find her anywhere.”

      “Was Heather with anyone?” Kaden pulled up a picture of Hector Salvez. “Maybe this guy?”

      “There wasn’t anyone with her or in the truck when I chased her down the street.” He closed his eyes. “What mother doesn’t tell the father of her child about their daughter and then dumps her with a birth certificate and barely any clothes?”

      Kaden’s nostrils flared. One just like his own mother. “Did she say where she’d been? What she’d been doing?”

      “No.” Nathan opened his phone and scrolled to a photo, tipping it so Kaden could see the screen. “Issy keeps drawing this picture. Do you know anything about that?”

      The paper had stick figures on it. A small yellow-haired person was squashed under a bigger stick figure with black hair and a beard. Red slashes covered the bigger stick figure.

      Kaden swore. “She was there. Poor kid.”

      “You know what this is? Where this is?” Nathan’s fists pressed against the table.

      “Border of Georgia and Florida,” Kaden said. “It’s a drug house. There was a shooting. Three dead.”

      Nathan pushed away from the table and paced to the fountain and back. Leaning his fists on the table, he growled, “And Issy was there? In a house filled with drugs and guns?”

      Kaden took in the fire in the man’s eyes. The tension in his body.

      “Based on the blood smears, we suspect someone about the size of your daughter was at the scene.”

      “Oh, God.” Nathan collapsed into the chair, clasping at his neck. “I... Could you talk to her therapist? Maybe this new information will help. I want Issy to feel safe. Be safe.”

      “Sure.” Kaden wasn’t sure what more he could tell a therapist, but Nathan was suffering. He was so upset it made him think the guy was clean. “Do you have any idea where Heather might be?”

      “I’ve racked my brain for months, trying to recall everything she ever said.” Nathan blew out a big breath. “I think she grew up in Alabama.”

      “Mobile.”

      “If Heather’s involved in drugs I will never let her touch Issy again. I want full custody.”

      “I understand.” Kaden stared the man in the eye. “But you have a track record with drugs and dealing, don’t you?”

      “In high school, small-time. I was a screwup.” Nathan gripped the table. “But I’m not anymore. Haven’t been for a decade. Run me.”

      “Already did. We haven’t found anything to indicate you’re still involved.”

      Forester backed off, his shoulders easing. “You won’t find anything. I have a daughter. My fiancée has a son. I’m not screwing up anything with her or the kids. They’re everything to me.”

      Kaden was starting to like the guy. He handed him a business card. “If you hear from Heather, let me know.”

      “I will.”

      The kitchen door creaked open and Abby walked over to the table. “Nathan, we’re ready to eat.”

      “Are we done?” Nathan asked him.

      “Yes.”

      “Kaden?” Abby asked. “I didn’t know you and Nathan knew each other.”

      “Hi, Abby.” Kaden stood. “We just met.”

      Nathan’s eyebrows shot up. Then he gave a short nod.

      “Is Nigel settled at the rehab center?” she asked.

      “Yes.” Kaden grimaced. “He already wants to go home.”

      She patted his shoulder. “He’s right where he needs to be.”

      Nathan stood, too. “You know Nigel?”

      “He’s my grandfather.” Pride filled Kaden’s voice.

      “Wonderful man,” Nathan said. “Sorry he fell.”

      “Thanks.”

      “Kaden?” Abby asked. “Have you had dinner?”

      He didn’t remember having lunch. “No.”

      “Then join us,” Abby said.

      “I...” Kaden couldn’t think of the last time he’d sat down to a meal that hadn’t been with his granddad or other agents. Usually he ate takeout or a nuked dinner alone. “That would be nice.”

      “I’ll hold dinner for you then.” Abby pointed at a door. “Come into the kitchen when you’re ready.”

      Once Abby left, Kaden touched Nathan’s arm. “I need to keep the fact that I’m with the FBI between us. I’m only in Savannah because of my grandfather.”

      Nathan raised his eyebrows. “Are you undercover?”

      “My...cover is on a need-to-know basis.” Like all task force members.

      “Sure.” Nathan nodded.

      “Thanks,” Kaden said.

      It wasn’t only the task force policy of secrecy. His job was on the line. Roger had fired a loose-lipped co-worker two months ago.

      And if Roger’s ex-wife got wind he was talking to people in her jurisdiction, it would add fuel to their personal war. He’d hate to be caught in their crossfire. Secrecy was the best policy.

      * * *

      COURTNEY KICKED A suitcase out of the way. She missed having maids to clean and iron her clothes. Sure, she packed and unpacked her own bag when traveling, but for this trip, she’d taken more clothes than normal. Help would be nice.

      If she complained,