About That Man (26 page)

Maribeth nodded, but her gaze drifted back to the peaceful scene outside.

Her heart heavy, Daisy drove away. At the marina, she
asked Bobby if she could use the phone in his office. “I need to call Walker and Tucker.”

But to her frustration, both men were out of contact. “Find them, dammit. I have some information they need to know,” she told the dispatcher.

“Where are you?”

“At the marina, but I'm heading home.”

“The minute either one of them checks in, I'll have them call,” the dispatcher promised.

Daisy could only pray it wouldn't be too late.

 

Walker had expected the night to go the same way every other night had gone, which was why he was so thoroughly stunned when he spotted a boat slipping away from the dock behind Finch's house shortly after midnight.

“Well, I'll be damned,” Walker murmured as he followed him upstream to an isolated inlet.

Tailing him by boat wasn't nearly as easy as following a suspect in D.C. traffic. For one thing it was pitch black out, with not even a sliver of the moon to light the sky. For another the air was eerily still, the night quiet except for the lazy sound of crickets and the calls of birds. Finch's boat was the only significant sound, and matching the timing of his motor to the other man's was tricky. If Finch cut the engine unexpectedly, the sound of Walker's boat would be unmistakable.

Totally attuned to the two boats, Walker suddenly realized he was also hearing the quieter chug-chug-chug of another motor. He cut his engine a fraction of a second before the two boats set their own engines on idle. Voices called softly back and forth, and Walker's adrenaline kicked into gear.

Using his radio, he called for backup on land and by water.

“I think you can seal off this inlet in case they get away from me,” he told the dispatcher. “But whatever you do, don't send anyone in here, and no sirens on land.”

“Give us fifteen minutes, twenty tops,” the dispatcher said. “We'll be in place.”

Listening carefully, praying that the transfer of drugs going on would take some time, he waited, using oars to paddle closer. He repeatedly checked his watch, illuminating the dial for no more than a second. Five minutes passed, then ten, and finally fifteen.

“That's it,” he heard someone say.

“I'm not doing this again,” a familiar voice—Paul Finch—replied. “My kid almost got picked up by the cops the other day. They were staking out the school. I knew this new cop was trouble. I tried to keep Gary away from his nephew, but I couldn't. Everything's gotten out of hand.”

“You'll do it until we say you can stop.”

Walker eased alongside, aimed his gun straight at the man who'd spoken and said, “How about we stop it right now?”

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and spotted Finch trying to ease toward the bow of his boat. “Stay where you are, Paul. I don't want to have to shoot you. A boy needs his dad, even if he is a lousy one.”

“You don't understand,” Paul said, his voice distraught.

“Explain it to me.”

“I don't think now's the time,” he said wryly.

“How did you get involved in this?”

“You're not going to let it go, are you?”

Walker intended to keep him talking and the other men within the aim of his gun for as long as he possibly could. “No,” he told Paul. “Did you need money?”

“Hell, no. It was never about the money. It was about
not letting them ruin my life, about not getting dishonorably discharged from the marines.”

Walker glanced away from the other men and caught a glimpse of Paul's anguished face. “They were blackmailing you?”

He gave a brief nod. “I made a foolish mistake a couple of years ago. I got caught at a party that got out of hand. There were drugs there. And a woman. There were pictures, pictures that would have destroyed everything that mattered to me. I thought I could do this once or twice and it would be over.”

“Blackmail is never over,” Walker said. “It's time to come clean and put these creeps away.”

Paul shook his head. “I'd rather you just shoot me,” he said.

Before Walker could guess his intentions, Paul dove overboard. It was just enough of a distraction to turn the other two men brazen. Their engine revved up and the boat took off. Walker didn't hesitate. He fired, wounding first the man at the controls, then his accomplice. The boat began to spin wildly.

Suddenly there was a horrifying scream, the engine sputtered and shut down.

Walker closed his eyes. He knew what that scream meant, knew that Paul Finch had gotten his wish, that he'd been wounded by the other boat's propeller and surely would die before help could get there. He studied the murky waters but there was no sign of Finch.

He radioed for assistance even as he climbed aboard the other boat to handcuff the two suspects. After assuring himself that their injuries weren't life-threatening, he checked out the boat and found just what he'd expected—sealed, waterproof packages of marijuana,
enough to destroy the lives of countless kids. An image of Gary Finch flashed in his mind, a freckle-faced kid whose dad had gotten mixed up with drug smugglers to protect his reputation, only to have it destroyed in the end anyway.

 

Daisy told Tucker everything she'd found out from Maribeth Finch.

“What the hell were you thinking going over there?” Tucker demanded.

“That I could help, if not you, then Gary. That boy is no drug dealer. If anything, he's been a victim of whatever's going on, too.”

“Dammit, Daisy, maybe you should have taken up law instead of teaching. You'd have made a powerful ally in court.”

“Only for the truly innocent, I'm afraid. Does any of this help?”

“Walker already has his eye on Finch. If what you say about them planning to leave town tomorrow is true, then we should know something soon. In the meantime, there are a few things
you
should know.”

“Such as?”

Daisy listened to Tucker's totally unnecessary explanation about Walker's absences in silence.

“He's doing his job. Why apologize to me?” she asked her brother.

“Because he asked me to.” He grinned. “Actually, he asked me to put in a good word for him while I was at it.”

“I wish you and Bobby and Daddy would stop trying to sell Walker to me. I'm convinced. I love him. I'm not so sure what his feelings are toward me yet.” She paused and thought of their lovemaking a few nights earlier, of
their conversation about children and the future. A smile tugged at her lips. “But I'm hopeful.”

“Really?” Tucker said eagerly. “Wedding bells, the whole nine yards?”

“Maybe.” She regarded her brother worriedly. “How do you think Daddy will take that, me marrying a Yankee?”

Tucker chuckled. “I don't think you need to worry about that.”

“He's reconciled to it?”

“Actually, he's pleased as punch, mostly with himself. In fact, I think he'll take full credit for bringing you two together.”

“What?”

“A word of advice? Let him have his little illusions. It'll keep the peace.” He stood up. “I've got to get out of here. I'm late.”

“You have a date?”

“Work,” he said.

“Tucker—”

“Don't start with me.” When he reached the door, he turned back. “By the way, if you were considering Walker's Yankee heritage to be part of your rebellion, I think you're up a creek. The man's as Southern as we are.”

Daisy stared. “Well, I'll be. And Daddy knows?”

“Oh, yeah, but the truth is, I think he would have come around anyway. Walker's a hard guy to resist.”

 

Yes, Daisy thought when she was alone again. Walker was definitely a hard man to resist.

Tucker was right. It was time to lay her cards on the table, time to take a risk and let Walker finally persuade her to marry him.

Of course, maybe she didn't have to rush into it. Maybe
she could sit back and enjoy Walker's attempts to woo her for a few more weeks. He was getting rather good at it. Downright inspired at times. He seemed to be doing everything he could to prove that his foolish ex-wife had been wrong when she'd told him he was lousy husband material.

And as Tucker had explained earlier, now was not the time to distract him. He was doing everything he could to break up that drug-trafficking ring to make up for letting the first two suspects get away. Daisy's heart was in her throat from the time he left her house every night until he called first thing the next morning.

That decided, she went to bed after Tucker's departure, but she couldn't seem to fall asleep. When she still hadn't heard from Walker by dawn, her nerves were on edge and her heart was beating a mile a minute. She did her best to remain calm, but she was churning inside. She couldn't seem to locate Tucker, either.

When she called Bobby at the marina, he told her the boat hadn't come back in yet.

“Well, what are you doing about it?” she demanded.

“Me? It's a police matter.”

“Okay, then what is the sheriff's department doing about it? Is anybody out looking for them? Never mind. I'm on my way.”

She dropped Tommy off at school, called her principal and informed him he'd need to find a substitute, then headed for the marina at full speed. Her foot on the accelerator never even wavered when first one and then another sheriff's deputy took up the chase behind her, lights flashing and sirens wailing. The more, the merrier. Maybe one of the dolts chasing her could be redirected to the river to save Walker and her brother.

She skidded to a halt in the marina parking lot and
bolted for the dock, aware that the two sheriff's cars were screeching into the lot right behind her. Not until she was halfway down the dock toward Bobby's boat did the first deputy catch up with her.

She whirled around to give him a piece of her mind, only to find herself staring straight into Walker's blazing eyes.

“Going somewhere, darlin'?”

She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and tried to shake him, no easy task given the difference in their sizes. “You scared me to death,” she said. “Where have you been?”

“Chasing a lunatic driver through town,” he said, grinning. “I guess you were worried about me?”

“Worried?
Worried?
I was
terrified.
” A tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another and another, until they fell in a torrent.

“I'm sorry. We caught the drug traffickers last night. I was in Montross doing paperwork.”

“But the boat?” she said, gesturing toward the empty slip. “It never came back.”

“Docked in Colonial Beach. It was the closest place to bring them in.” His expression sobered. “Bad news, though. Paul Finch is dead.”

“Oh, no. Do Maribeth and Gary know?”

“Tucker's with them now. We can go over there, if you like.”

“In a minute,” she said, then smacked him in the chest. “Walker Ames, don't you ever do that to me again.”

“Do what?”

“Not check in when you're supposed to.”

“I can think of one way to make sure you know where I am at least most of the time.”

“How?”

“Marry me.”

This time when he suggested it, Daisy didn't care about pretty words or a romantic setting. They'd already wasted too much time to her way of thinking. “Marry me,” spoken on the dock in broad daylight, would do just fine.

After all, she had a lifetime to teach him all the pretty words. It was enough for now just to know that he wouldn't have asked at all if he wasn't prepared to give her all his love.

“How soon?” she demanded.

He grinned. “In a rush, are you? I thought you Southern women liked to move at a slower pace.”

“Not anymore,” she said, dragging his head down until their lips touched.

By the time the kiss ended, their audience had drifted away.

“We must have embarrassed them,” she said unrepentantly.

“Or they went off to find their own women,” Walker said. “Being around love will do that to a man.”

She framed his face in her hands and looked straight into his eyes. “You do love me, don't you?”

“More than I'd ever thought possible. And you?”

“You're everything I ever longed for.”

“Not quite everything,” he said, his expression serious. “I intend to give you that family, too, Daisy. We're going to have it all.”

To her way of thinking, she already did.

T
hings had worked out all around in King's opinion. For a former big city cop, Walker Ames was fitting in pretty well in Trinity Harbor. And it was plain to see that he was in love with Daisy. That's all King had ever wanted, to see his daughter settled down and happy with a family of her own.

King sat proudly in the front row of the church, Frances by his side, as his daughter said the vows she had written herself. She mentioned love, honor and cherish, but he noted that she'd steered clear of mentioning anything about obeying her husband. King figured that meant Walker was in for a roller-coaster ride. Daisy did have her stubborn streak. Got it from her mother.

He didn't realized he'd murmured that last aloud until he heard a muffled hoot from Frances. He glanced over and saw the twinkle in her eyes.

“What?” he demanded.

“If Daisy inherited a lick of stubbornness from her mama, then she obviously got a double dose. You're as mule-headed as they come,” Frances whispered.

King winked at her. He'd heard the unmistakable note of affection in her voice. Frances was a pistol. Had a lot of spunk for a woman her age, more than he'd ever imagined when he'd invited her out for bingo. She didn't hesitate to
tell him her opinions and, goodness knows, she had a million of them. Remained to be seen how well he could live with that over the long haul, but right now it was mighty satisfying to have some lively company in the evenings.

He turned his gaze to Walker and noted that the man had the same dazed expression on his face that King had seen in the mirror on his own wedding day nearly thirty-five years ago.

And Tommy, his hair slicked back and all dressed up in a tuxedo, didn't look a thing in the world like the ruffian Daisy had taken in all those months ago. The boy had promise. King was going to be proud to call him his grandson.

In the pew across the way were Walker's own sons, two handsome little devils who couldn't sit still. King had had them out at Cedar Hill with him for a few days now, along with their mama, who wasn't doing much to hide her displeasure at this turn of events. At least she'd brought the boys up here, instead of keeping them away from their own daddy's wedding. And Daisy had taken to Walker's sons as if they were another blessing from God. She was a little more cautious about Walker's ex-wife.

King took a peek at Maribeth Finch and her boy, Gary, sitting across the aisle as well. The woman finally had a little color in her cheeks, now that all that drug business was settled. Losing her husband had been hard on her, but she was getting her life back on track, and that boy of hers was spending his fair share of time out at Cedar Hill with Tommy. King thought Gary had come through the tragedy with amazing resilience for a boy his age. Daisy and Walker had taken the pair of them under their wings, so King didn't doubt the Finches would eventually do just fine.

To his disgust, Daisy had insisted on inviting the whole blasted school board to the wedding. To his mind, every
one of them should have been tarred and feathered, but maybe this was best—proof positive that they'd been a bunch of ninnies for worrying about Daisy's behavior. They wouldn't dare raise a fuss now that she was about to be a properly married woman.

King realized his attention had drifted when he heard Anna-Louise say, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

So, he thought with satisfaction, the deed was done.

Eyes shining as brightly as King had ever seen them, Daisy tilted her head up for Walker's kiss. It was a doozy. King had to concede that the man knew how to milk a moment. He heard Frances sigh beside him and glanced down into her misty eyes.

“Don't go getting any ideas, woman,” he warned.

“As if I would,” she shot back. “Not with you the only prospect.”

He grinned and planted a thorough kiss on her sweet mouth, just to remind her to mind her manners.

The organ music began to swell, and the bridal party started down the aisle. Daisy looked as if she were floating on air, but she paused just long enough to give King a quick peck on the cheek.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“You just be happy, darling girl. That's all the thanks I need.”

“She will be,” Walker promised. “I'll see to it.”

“Hey, let's hurry this up,” Tucker protested. “I'm ready for that fancy cake Bobby made. Eight tiers with a different filling in each one.”

King winced. He would never in a million years understand why a man who could run a respectable cattle operation would choose instead to cook for a bunch of strangers. Not that it wasn't honorable work and not that Bobby hadn't made a surprising success of it, but the
kitchen—no matter how big and fancy it was—was no place for a man.

He needed to do something about that, King decided as he followed his family from the church into the crisp fall afternoon. In fact, he thought maybe he'd make Bobby's situation his next project. Buoyed by the success of his meddling in Daisy's life, King felt certain he could have his eldest son married by this time next year. Might even be able to get him
raising
beef instead of
cooking
it, if he played his cards right.

Frances regarded him with sudden suspicion. “I know that look. What are you up to, King Spencer?”

“Nothing for you to worry about,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze even as he surveyed the crowd to see if he could spot any likely marriage material for his son. Too old or too young, he concluded after checking out every female.

Well, it didn't matter. He'd find someone suitable. After all, he'd found Walker Ames for Daisy, hadn't he? Okay, maybe he hadn't
found
him exactly, but he'd recognized the man's potential right off. Well…maybe not
right
off, but soon enough. They were married, weren't they?

“King, over here,” Walker called. “They want a family picture.”

King considered squeezing himself between the bride and groom, but Walker had a pretty tight grip on Daisy's hand. King settled for his place next to his daughter. Tucker and Bobby were lined up next to him, and all the boys were down in front. His heart filled with pride.

“Best-looking family in the whole county,” he declared. He glanced at Walker. “Welcome to it, son. Took you long enough to take a hint.”