Chapter Six
Her purse still clenched in her hand, Lesley flew back out the front door, slamming it after her.
“Where are you going in such an all-fired hurry?” Cole shouted.
Lesley nearly stumbled off the top step, catching herself just intime. She hadn’t expected Cole to be outside. “The . . .
The library,” she supplied on a breathless note.
“Is the place on fire?”
“No.” Willing her pounding heart to be still, she opened the car door, climbed inside and started the engine.
“Then wait.”
“No! I’m leaving and I’m leaving now.”
Cole’s look was bewildered, as if he couldn’t understand a woman who was demanding answers one moment, then fleeing the next
without a logical explanation. Lesley didn’t care; he’d left her to face countless unresolved questions.
Although more outwardly calm, her hands were shaking as she gripped the strap of her purse and strolled into the library.
The woman who had helped her earlier was out to lunch but had left the information at the desk for Lesley.
ENGSTROM, DANIEL. His name was followed by a listing of dates and articles that showed Cole had been in the paper, at least The New York Times, on several occasions.
Briefly her eyes scanned the dates and articles. Cole was some kind of automobile executive. Although still reading, she walked
across the library floor and sat at the table next to the shelves that contained the encyclopedias. Dynamic Engines Corporation
kept appearing along with Cole’s name. That was in Michigan. What was he doing with an out-of-state check issued from Indiana?
The information was scant at best. Wondering where she should search next, Lesley pulled out the latest edition of the business
directory. He wasn’t listed there, nor was he in Who’s Who in America.
As she was returning the volume, she saw another book labeled Who’s Who in Finance and Industry. Her fingers flipped open the pages and ran down the row of E’s.
Engstrom, Daniel Cole. Her finger stopped as she sank back into the cushioned chair and continued reading: AUTOMOBILE EXECUTIVE. That she knew. SINGLE. Thank goodness. EDUCATION: Bachelor of Science in industrial engineering at the Lawrence Institute of Technology. Master’s in auto science.
Degree in mechanical engineering from Chrysler Industries. MBA from the University of Michigan. Hired as an engineer for Dynamic
Engines and promoted to the director of advanced engineering and finally chief engineer.
Chief engineer! Lesley propped her head up with one hand pressed tightly across her forehead as the knowledge of his expertise
washed over her.
Again she scanned the statistical information.
Cole was thirty-four and had accomplishments men twenty years his senior would envy.
But why hide himself away like this? For what reason?
Should she confront him with what she knew?
Or wait until he told her and see if his story jelled with what she’d learned?
Her thoughts muddled, Lesley walked outside the building and headed down the street toward her car.
“Hey, what are you doing shopping this time of day?” Terry pulled her car into the empty parking space beside Lesley’s and
rolled down her window.
“Oh, hi,” Lesley responded with an absent smile.
“Hi yourself. What’s up?”
“Up? What makes you think anything’s up?”
“In addition to being your sister, I happen to know you, Lesley Joy Brown. Now, out with it.”
“Cole Daniels is really Daniel Cole Engstrom,” Lesley announced without preamble.
“What?” Terry gasped and jerked open her car door. “I think we need to talk.” She unstrapped Lisa from the baby seat in the
back of the car.
Fifteen minutes later they sat in their favorite café drinking coffee while Lesley explained what she’d learned from the library.
“I don’t believe it.”
“That’s the tenth time you’ve said that,” Lesley commented with an impatient snap to her voice.
“Sorry.”
Lesley could tell Terry wasn’t actually sorry. “Shocked” was a better word.
“What are you going to do about it?” Terry continued.
“I don’t know. What do you think I should do?”
“Confront him?”
“Should I?”
“I’m asking, not telling.” Terry turned her attention to Lisa, who was cheerfully eating a soda cracker, mashing it together
with her chubby fingers.
“There are so many unexplainables with this.”
“I’ve got it.” Terry hit her hand across the plastic-topped table, directing the attention of half the café to their booth in the corner. “It’s only logical.”
“What?” Lesley leaned forward eagerly across the table. Nothing about this whole thing was logical.
“We’re always reading about automobile recalls.”
“So?”
“As chief engineer, wouldn’t Cole—”
“Of course,” Lesley interrupted. “He found out something that’s wrong with the cars that would demand a recall. But D.E. is
trying to hide this from the customers and has hired a hit man to do in Cole.”
“What do you think?”
“I think we may have stumbled onto something,” Lesley answered thoughtfully.
“What can we do?”
“Nothing.” Lesley propped her chin on a palm. “We’re going to have to trust the Lord with this one.” Lesley took a sip from
her coffee cup. “Cole keeps telling me that everything will be settled soon. I heard him say he was about to hand over the
evidence or report or something.”
“What are you going to do until then?”
“Thanksgiving’s this week, and the bank’s closed for the four-day holiday. I think I’ll phone in sick tomorrow and stick around.
At least, if anything happens, I’ll be there to make sure Cole’s all right. Let’s hope the whole thing will be cleared up
by the weekend.”
Terry handed Lisa another cracker. The baby immediately glommed onto it, stuffing it into her small mouth. “You know, I feel
like Nancy Drew all of a sudden—protecting the world from evil and upholding the cause of righteousness.”
Lesley tossed her sister a disdainful look. “Honestly, Terry, that was Zorro.”
The older sister wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Lesley drove home slowly, wondering how she would react to Cole when she saw him. She was terrible at keeping secrets. Her
friends knew her well enough to realize that if they wanted something kept quiet, it was better not to tell Lesley. It wasn’t
that she was a gossip, but anything that was meant to be kept to herself had a way of rolling off her tongue. Already, although
she had the best intentions, she’d blurted out what she’d overheard.
The first thing she did when she walked into her apartment was phone the bank and tell Ben Fullbright that she wouldn’t be
in for the remainder of the week. Slight feelings of guilt invaded her resolve as she replaced the telephone receiver. The
day before Thanksgiving was always busy at the bank, but she had to stick close to home for Cole’s sake. She smiled, envisioning
his reaction if he knew that she was calling in sick in order to stay at the apartment and protect him.
The light tapping sound on the other side of her wall reminded her of a high school drum cheer. She walked across the room
and returned with her own message.
A moment later her doorbell rang. It was Cole.
“Hi.” Her eyes avoided his.
“I’ve been waiting to talk to you.”
“Oh?”
“Are you suddenly reduced to responses of one syllable?” He regarded her skeptically.
“No.” Her eyes followed the worn pattern in the carpet.
Cole’s index finger under her chin lifted her gaze to his. “I think we’d better talk?”
“Do you want coffee or Iacocca . . . I mean cocoa.” She turned and hurried into the kitchen. Oh no! She’d nearly done it again.
Cole followed her, a hand on her shoulder stopping her as she held the teakettle under the faucet.
“What’d you say?”
“Nothing.” She prayed he wouldn’t question her further.
“Something about Iacocca?”
“No, silly,” she said, desperately trying to brush off her blunder. “Cocoa, as in heated chocolate milk with melted marshmallows.”
“All right, I’ll have the Iacocca.”
“The what?” She looked up, startled.
“All right, Lesley.” Cole’s hands gripped her shoulders and turned her around. “Are you going to say it, or am I?”
She felt like stamping her foot and groaning her frustration with herself. “I didn’t want you to know that I’d learned.”
“Exactly what do you know?”
“About the recall and everything.”
“The recall?” His look was completely blank. “I think we’d better sit down and get this into the open.” He took the kettle
out of her hand and set it aside.
Lesley turned off the burner and followed him into the living room.
“Sit,” he instructed, and gently settled her into the winged back chair that was positioned in the corner by the front windows.
Cole paced in front of her. Lesley’s neck hurt to look up at him, but she wanted to watch his face, study the emotion that
came from the dark, fathomless eyes. With a hand at the base of her neck she rubbed some of the tension from the muscles along
the back of the sensitive area.
“What’s wrong?” Cole looked down as if noticing her actions for the first time.
“I slept on the sofa last night without a pillow, and now my neck’s killing me.”
“Here, let me rub it for you,” he offered and walked around behind the chair. His hands felt warm against her skin, and soon a tingling heat was spreading over her. Lesley closed her eyes to the potency of his touch. Her bones seemed to melt as his fingers gently kneaded the area.
“How does that feel?”
Was she hearing things, or did his husky voice sound as disturbed as she was feeling?
“Wonderful.” The one word managed to make it past the sluggishness that affected her throat muscles. Feelings of languor,
a tender dreamy state, took over her mind. “Oh, Cole,” she murmured softly.
“Crazy woman, what were you doing on the sofa? You should have been in bed.”
“I know,” His gentle, massaging hands continued the slow rotating movements that eased the coiled tension from her. “But I
couldn’t sleep.”
“Because of me?” The question was issued softly, in coaxing tones.