The Truth About Jane Doe

He swung around to find the nurse smiling at him. The white uniform clung to her shapely body, and a ready smile indicated she’d been waiting for him.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” she asked, moving closer to him.

His eyes swept over the blond hair, brown eyes and red red lips. Something about her was familiar but he still couldn’t place her. “Sorry. No, I don’t.”

“Stephanie Cox, the frumpy brown-haired girl you used to let copy your homework.”

“Stephanie Cox,” he echoed in disbelief. Suddenly he recalled the shy overweight girl he’d always felt sorry for. The memory didn’t jibe with the woman standing before him.

“Isn’t it amazing what diet, exercise and makeup can do for a girl?”

He studied her new appearance again. “Yes, it is,” he replied slowly, thinking that peroxide and plastic surgery also had something to do with the changed look. He couldn’t help feeling that he liked the shy plain young girl much better. There was a hardness in this one’s eyes that made him instinctively draw back.

She stepped even closer. Long artificial red nails fingered the lapel of his jacket. Expensive perfume filled his nostrils. “You were always so nice,” she whispered, and batted her long fake eyelashes at him. “Are you still a nice man, Matthew Sloan?”

“I try to be.”

She batted the eyelashes again. “Why don’t we meet for dinner and discuss old times…and our mutual employer?”

So that was it. She was after information. “Sorry, Stephanie, but I’m really busy. I’m trying to wrap up my dad’s cases before I go back to New York. Besides, I don’t discuss my clients with anyone.”

She was so close now he could feel the heat emanating from her body. “Was that a put-down?” she asked.

“Just the truth,” he answered with a decided effort not to move away from her. Did she really think that cheap look and act appealed to a man? he wondered. Well, maybe a desperate man, he conceded. But it didn’t do a thing for him.

One fingernail traced a blue triangle in his tie, then she smiled suggestively. “I could turn your very busy day into a night you won’t forget.”

“I’ll bet you could, and believe me, I’ll keep it in mind.” He removed her hand from his lapel, returned her smile with a careful one of his own, then headed down the steps.

“Goodbye, Matthew Sloan,” she called after him.

As he climbed into his truck, the air whooshed from his lungs and he realized he’d been holding his breath. What was that all about? Stephanie Cox sure wanted something from him, and it was more than his body. How did she fit into the puzzle of C. J. Doe and the Townsends?

CHAPTER SIX

WHEN MATTHEW GOT BACK to the office, he dialed C.J.’s number, but there was no answer.

Miss Emma poked her head around the door. “You’re due at the courthouse at one o’clock.”

He looked at his watch. “No time for lunch.”

“I’ll get Frank to send over a sandwich from the café.”

“Thanks, Miss Emma.” He smiled. He was beginning to see why his dad had put up with her for so many years. He could use someone like her in New York, he thought fleetingly. Miss Emma in New York. He shuddered at the image.

Later that evening when he opened the door of his parents’ house, the most delicious aroma enticed him. His mom was cooking and he recognized the smell of his favorite—pot roast.

He stood in the kitchen doorway and watched her for a moment. An apron with a happy face on it covered her dress. She set plates on the table with a quick hand, but her eyes were cloudy.

She turned and saw him. “Hi,” she said in a wobbly voice.

She had to deal with her grief in her own way, but he hated to see her like this. It made him feel so helpless. Putting his arms around her, he said, “Mom, you don’t have to cook. I can eat anything.”

“It keeps me busy,” she sniffed into his shoulder. Brushing away a tear, she added, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me, too.”

“How was your day?”

“Exhausting,” he replied with a teasing note in his voice.

She glanced at the stove, a smile touching her face. “Supper’s almost ready, so go wash up.”

He left the kitchen without saying a word, feeling like that ten-year-old boy who used to love coming home to the smell of his mother’s cooking. Were there women like his mom left in this world? he wondered. Women who cared about home and hearth and family? Most of the women he met were like Stephanie Cox; they wanted something from him he wasn’t willing to give. Then there was C.J. Doe….

At the thought of her, he went into his dad’s study and dialed her number.

“Hello.” Her soft husky voice came down the line.

He felt a swift familiar sensation of desire. Her voice alone had more power over him than Stephanie Cox’s entire body. Shaking that reaction from his mind, he said, “Miss Doe, this is Matthew Sloan.”

“Yes?”

“The Townsends have agreed to your offer.”

A long pause. “Miss Doe, did you hear me?”

“Yes, I heard you. I’m just stunned. I didn’t expect them to accept so quickly.”

“They want it done discreetly, no publicity.”

“I don’t have a problem with that.”

“I didn’t think you would.”

“I would like to choose the lab, though.”

Startled, he asked, “Any reason for that?”

“Yes. I don’t trust the Townsends. They have too much power in this state. I want a reputable lab that won’t be tempted by bribery.”

“I see. And you know of such a lab?”

“I’ll make some phone calls and let you know in the morning.”

“That’ll be fine,” he replied, a little surprised by her shrewdness. “You do realize the Townsends have to agree to the lab?”

“Yes.”