Hidden (Jacobs Family Series Book 1) Read online

  He stood and stretched, felt the vertebrae in his back pop. “I’m not sure, boss. It’s a hunch. And like you, I need to do something. Plus tomorrow’s my day off. Want me to pick you up?”

  Dana shook her head, eyes wide and disbelieving.

  Ben shrugged and walked to the door. He hadn’t really expected her to agree to go.

  He had one foot across the threshold when she called him back. “I don’t know how you manage to make a bad idea sound credible, Marshall.”

  When he turned to look at her she still looked exhausted, but some of the frustration had fled. “What time?”

  “I want to get an early start.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “Five?”

  “I’ll be ready.” She was already turning back to the spybots.

  “See you then, boss.”

  He slapped Clay on the back on the way out. Could have been his imagination, but the tension in the room seemed to have dissipated a bit.

  He doubted a ball of St. Elmo’s fire had come through, but there was always tomorrow.

  Thirty-six

  Dana stood outside her front door at ten minutes before five the next morning and wondered if she should have worn gloves. Though her calendar plainly declared the date to be Saturday, May 24, a chill hung in the air and the temperature read a crisp 39 degrees.

  She clutched her coffee mug and squinted at the Chevy truck, making its way down her street.

  Ben had barely pulled into the driveway before she was yanking open the passenger door.

  “You’re more eager than I thought you’d be.”

  “I’m freezing, Marshall.”

  “So water skiing is out.” He handed her a bag of donuts and pushed the stick shift on the steering wheel into reverse.

  “Water skiing is out. Rock climbing is out.” Dana picked a cinnamon sugar donut from the bag. “But these are definitely in.”

  “A smile like that can sure ease a man’s disappointment. Guess you don’t need this coffee I brought.”

  “Nope. I have my own. Thank you, though.” Dana took a bite and let the cinnamon melt on her tongue. She’d need to jog an extra mile, but it would be worth every step.

  “I would talk, but you look as if you’re having a moment over there.”

  “I am. These are delicious. I never buy donuts.”

  “You should. They agree with you.”

  Dana shot him a sideways look, but didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she kept her focus on the road. “So what gives, Marshall? Abiquiu Lake is no more than an hour away. Why the early start?”

  “I’m not sure.” Ben reached into the bag and pulled out a chocolate-covered, cake donut. “I’m an early riser, and you said you couldn’t sleep.”

  Dana rubbed her forehead and fought the urge to stomp her feet like a child. “Tell me you had a better reason for getting me up at 4:00 a.m. than that.”

  “So you can sleep?”

  “I have trouble going to sleep. When I finally manage to get there, I don’t want to wake up unless someone has a very good reason. Now stop toying with me. Where are we headed so early?”

  “We know the dam was completed in 1963.”

  “Drogan was fifteen years old at the time.” Dana stared at the bag of donuts, but interlaced both hands firmly around her mug.

  “Right. The same age Reggie is now.”

  Dana sipped her coffee. “You’re going to tell me that is not a coincidence.”

  Ben shrugged as he accelerated onto the main road west out of town, signaling to pass a truck pulling a boat. “By then the negotiations had been going on for over five years.”

  “Right. All legal petitions were filed by his father.”

  Ben looked at her, glanced down at the bag, and pushed it back her way. “So Chance Drogan grew up under the shadow of Abiquiu Reservoir. His entire life was colored by the building of the lake and the loss of their land.”

  Dana stared down into the bag of donuts. The chocolate one had looked awfully tasty when Ben ate his. She decided life was short and chose a chocolate twist. “What must that have been like? Did they live nearby after their home was bulldozed, or move away?”

  “Exactly. The family drops off the record books. Probably disappeared after the appeal was lost.” Ben opened the second container of milk he’d brought.

  The small, cardboard carton reminded Dana of endless lunch trays and how she’d always sat by Erin, always made sure she’d drank her milk. Some things stayed the same—across the miles, across the years.

  “We’re a long way from 1963, but we might be able to find someone who knew the family.” He looked over at Dana and smiled as he wiped away his milk mustache.

  “How do you plan to do that?”

  “I was thinking we’d start with the old-timers.”

  “And they’ll be at the coffee shops.”

  “Yeah. We should get there about the time they’re into their second cup. I called around. Here’s the list of the oldest diners. Only the first was open in ’63.”

  Dana studied the sheet he handed her. On it was a map of the Abiquiu Lake area with three locations labeled and routes marked.

  “Not bad.” She folded up the donut bag and pushed it back to his side of the seat. “I think I’m going to be too full to eat though.”

  Ben hung one hand over the wheel, which looked like it belonged on a ship. Why did they make steering wheels so large in the old days? His other arm rested across the back of the seat. She thought about calling him on it, but she suddenly felt drowsy from the load of sugar she’d dumped in her system.

  A little nap wouldn’t hurt. Glancing at her watch, she estimated they had another forty minutes before reaching the first diner.

  “Wake me up before we get there,” she mumbled.

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  Her eyes had no sooner closed than she was dreaming about a teenage boy, walking along the Abiquiu Lake bed as the waters slowly began to rise.

  Thirty-seven

  Ben stopped Dana before they walked into the diner that said simply, Coffee Shop. “We probably need a cover story.”

  “Huh?”

  “A cover story. You know, something to say in case people ask what we’re doing here.”

  Dana tapped her foot. “Why would we need a cover story?”

  “Well, we could tell them we’re with the Department of Homeland Security, but folks tend to clam up when you say you’re with the government. Or wait, I could just pull out my firearm. It’s pretty effective early on a Saturday morning with a bunch of old-timers.”

  Ben smiled and waited for her to catch up.

  “You think because you plied me with donuts you can be sarcastic.” She squinted her eyes and held her hand up to block the morning sun. “You’re spunkier since you had your hair singed off—military cut, military attitude. Maybe you should pretend I’m your commanding officer.”

  Ben put a hand to the back of his neck and grinned. “Want to run your fingers through it?”

  Dana laughed outright. “There’s nothing left to run my fingers through.”

  “I still have some curls up here. You can play with the top part.”

  She shook her head. “Stop distracting me. What’s our cover story? I know you already have one.”

  “Sure. We’re married and stopping in before a day on the lake.”

  “Won’t work.”

  Ben had known she would argue.

  Dana wiggled the fingers on her left hand. “No rings.”

  “Oh. I forgot.” Ben felt around in his blue-jeans pocket. “Nope. No extra rings there.”

  She punched his right arm. He was grateful she chose his right. His left was still sore and a rather cool shade of purple.

  “How about this?” Dana tapped her fingers against her lips. “We’re dating. We both live in Taos, and we’ve never managed to get this far west.”

  “Hmm. Simpler, and it makes sense.”

  Dana turned and walked into
the shop while he was still reveling in the fact she had agreed to pretend to be dating him. Possibly, it was a new low in his social life.

  He hurried into the diner after his new girlfriend, nearly bumping into her in the process. It took a good ten seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dim light after the brightness of the New Mexico morning. When he could see, he thought they’d stepped back into 1963.

  A counter ran along one wall. In front of it red bar stools were filled with men of all shapes and sizes. Each one wore either a baseball cap or a cowboy hat.

  Along the front wall was a cash register that no one tended. A hand-penned sign proclaimed Cash or check only, NO CREDIT CARDS. Plate-glass windows covered the entire west wall. They were spotless and gave a view of all the happenings on Main Street, which at the moment was dead.

  The booths and tables were a hubbub of activity. Old men sat in groups of twos, threes, and fours, sipping coffee and telling tales. More than a few of them stopped to eye his boss, err, his girlfriend.

  “Come on, honey. Let’s find a table.” He nodded at another sign near the front, which read, Seat yourself, I’m busy.

  Smiling down at her, he wrapped an arm around her waist and walked her to the one open booth.

  Scooting into the far side of the booth, he snagged her when she started toward the opposite side. “Sit next to me, sweetheart. I miss you when you’re so far away.”

  “You’re enjoying this, Marshall. Entirely too much.” But she allowed herself to be pulled down into the crook of his arm.

  A waitress with bright red lipstick and short, gray hair breezed by long enough to beam at them and confirm they both wanted coffee.

  While Ben studied the one-page, laminated menu, Dana looked around the room.

  “Ben, I’m the only woman in here.”

  “Not if you count the waitresses.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “Then you’re the only woman in here.”

  “Why is that?”

  Ben dropped the menu and smiled at her. “In Montana we have a diner exactly like this. I think every town does. The old codgers all wake up early, and the women are mostly glad to get them out of the house for an hour or two. This is their hangout.”

  The waitress reappeared with two, steaming, mugs of coffee.

  “You two ready to order?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll take the fisherman’s special.”

  “That would be our biggest and best.”

  Dana picked up the menu and slid her finger down it until she found the item Ben had ordered. “Three eggs, fried trout, hash browns, biscuits, and gravy.” She slid away from Ben and stared at him in mock horror.

  “Ben Marshall. You are not going to eat all that.”

  “Sure am.”

  The waitress tapped her pen against her pad. “Now, honey. He looks like a growing boy. Probably about to spend a day on the lake.”

  “How did you know?” Ben smiled up at the waitress.

  “I almost always guess right.” The plump woman beamed back at him, then cocked her head at Dana. “Now what can I get you?”

  “Do you have bagels?”

  “Nope. We don’t go for that fancy stuff. How about a side of biscuits? We have the lightest buttermilk biscuits around.”

  “Oh. All right. Well. I’ll take some biscuits and a bowl of fruit then.”

  “Coming right up. I’m LuAnn. You all holler if you need anything.”

  Dana waited until LuAnn had moved away before turning on him. “Did you need to order all that food?”

  “Absolutely. I’m hungry.”

  When she continued to stare at him in disbelief, he added, “And it would look suspicious if we only ordered coffee.”

  Dana shook her head, causing her ponytail to bob back and forth. He reached a hand out and tugged at it playfully.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I like how you’re wearing your hair today, sweetheart. Looks nice and perky.”

  It sounded like she muttered something about shooting practice and extra ammo, but he wasn’t sure. She’d stuck her face into the oversized mug of coffee LuAnn had poured.

  LuAnn returned with the fruit and biscuits.

  “I haven’t seen biscuits this size since I was home.” Ben pulled one out of the basket and held it in his hand. It was the size of his palm, and he was surprised it didn’t float away into the air.

  LuAnn smiled and rested her coffeepot on the table. “Sounds like you should visit home more often. I’ll bet your mama misses you.”

  “Yes, ma’am. She understands though. I stayed for a few weeks when I was first discharged, then came to work in Taos.”

  LuAnn’s face softened like the butter Ben had placed inside his biscuit.

  “What branch were you in?”

  “Army,” Ben said around the bite he’d taken. “Oh, my. I better not tell Mama about these. She’ll think I like someone’s cooking better than hers.”

  LuAnn’s smile grew even larger, and she picked up the coffeepot. “I’ll check on your food.”

  She turned to Dana as she left. “Honey, try one of those biscuits. You’re going to need more than a little fruit once you get out in the sun.”

  Ben felt Dana staring at him as he took the last bite. “What?”

  “You are playing her like a fiddle, Ben. You should be ashamed.”

  “I’m being friendly. Watch and learn.” He sat back and sipped from the coffee, thinking he was going to have to get moving after consuming all these calories.

  He saw LuAnn stop to talk at a table of old geezers, nod their way, and then pick up a large plate of food from the kitchen pass-through and walk toward their table.

  “I told Harold about you serving in the Army. Now he’s probably going to talk your ear off, but he does like to thank any of our military boys. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. This looks fantastic.”

  “That trout is fresh. We have some kids who catch it after school, and they brought in a whole mess yesterday.” LuAnn refilled their coffee. “I’ll check back with you two in a minute.”

  The smell of pan-fried trout had him sitting up straighter. He had only thought he was full. Grabbing the salt and pepper, he doctored the fish, then the eggs. It wasn’t until he’d picked up his knife and fork that he noticed Dana had squirreled her nose in disgust.

  “Try a bite,” he coaxed. When she shook her head, he placed a forkful in his mouth, closed his eyes, and groaned. “Now that is the best breakfast meat on earth.”

  Dana’s laughter surprised them both.

  “What?”

  “You should have seen the look on your face. Like a kid at Christmas.”

  “Ah come on, darlin’. One bite and you’ll see why.”

  “No, Ben.”

  “One bite, and I’ll leave you alone.”

  “But—”

  “One bite. I won’t say another word. I’ll even go sit across the room so you don’t have to watch me.”

  “Promise?” She scowled at him as the fork of trout came closer.

  “Open wide, sweetheart.” He dropped the trout in and watched her expression change. “Uh-huh. What did I tell you? I guess you won’t be so quick to hassle me now.”

  “That’s amazing.” Dana swallowed. “Seriously.”

  She scooched closer in the booth. “One more bite.”

  “Yeah. You like it now.” He speared more trout on to his fork and plopped it into her mouth, touching her chin softly with his other hand as he did so.

  Dana opened her eyes and stared into his. Suddenly, he found he could barely swallow the hash browns in his mouth. She was as beautiful and fresh as the New Mexico morning outside their window. The need to take her in his arms nearly overwhelmed him. He thought about kissing her, moved his hand from her face to the back of her neck.

  She didn’t move, didn’t back away.

  Was it a charade? Or did she feel the same thing that was coursing through his veins, through
his heart?

  Before he could ask, before he could taste her lips, someone coughed.

  Dana pulled away, and the moment was over as quickly as it had begun.

  Ben looked up to see two men, older than his father, standing beside their booth. He wondered how long they’d been waiting and what they wanted.

  Thirty-eight

  Dana was at first disappointed, then relieved when the two old guys stopped whatever was happening between her and Ben. What had been happening? One minute she was eating trout for breakfast, the next she’d been drowning in Ben’s brown eyes.

  Unable and unwilling to look away, her heart had begun to hammer, as if she’d been chased and caught. Captured by his gaze, she felt pulled toward a future she’d lost sight of long ago.

  “Scuse us, son. Hope we’re not interrupting.”

  “Course we’re interrupting, Harold. Even someone as blind as you could see he was about to kiss her.”

  “There was a time we’d a been home with our missus, doing some kissing ourselves, Johnson.”

  Ben stood and shook hands with Harold, who might have been blind but was plenty agile enough. Then he turned to Johnson, a man bent over in the way of the very old, though apparently still able to see everything.

  “I’m Ben, and this is Dana.”

  Dana instinctively stood and shook hands with both men. To give them credit, they took her hand and shook it, though they grinned at each other, as if this would be a story to tell tomorrow morning.

  “Wanted to thank you for serving.” Harold nodded in LuAnn’s direction. “Lu told us.”

  He hesitated as he glanced at Dana. “Course she didn’t say whether your missus…”

  Ben and Dana exchanged a quick glance.

  “No, sir. I haven’t been in the military, and I’m not—”

  “Dana and I are dating. We’re not married.” Ben placed his arm around her waist, pulled her closer. “Yet.”

  Harold cackled. “Better not wait too long, sonny. Not with a woman as pretty as she is.”

  “Don’t I know it. I was just telling Dana how beautiful she looks today.”

  Dana gouged him lightly in the ribs with her elbow, so Ben quickly changed the subject. “Say would you two like to sit down?”