Authors: Mariah Stewart
“Right,” Stef cheerfully told her. “So we still have a little wiggle room as far as your story is concerned. I just want everyone to eventually stop asking me. I'm not real comfortable lying all the time but it was the first thing that came out of my mouth. I wish I could take it back, but it's too late now.”
“Stef, I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I should have thought this all through so much more thoroughly. I was just in such a panic…”
“Hey, don't worry about it. Given the alternative, well, the lies are a very small price to pay for your safety, and for Chloe's.” Stef had assured her. “Really. It's okay.”
Emme was just about to apologize again when her phone announced that she had a text message.
“Stef, I'll try to get back to you later. I need to check on something.”
“Okay. Just keep in touch. And give my girl a big hug for me,” Steffie said before she hung up.
Emme pulled up the text message:
Having car trouble and had to turn back. Sorry won't be able to make it today. Will get in touch when we have wheels. Henry
“Well, could you maybe have waited a little longer to let me know?” she grumbled aloud, and shoved the phone back into her pocket. She was just about to hoist the cooler when she saw Nick and a very animated Chloe coming toward her through the crowd.
“We've been stood up,” she told Nick. “I just got a
text message from Henry. Car trouble. They had to go back. He said they'd be in touch.”
“Funny he didn't call and talk to you,” Nick said, “but at least he let you know they weren't going to show.”
“He probably was embarrassed to speak with me after making us wait so long. Besides, it seems kids would rather text than talk anyway.”
“At least we're getting an afternoon at the zoo out of it,” he pointed out. “How about I take that cooler out to my car and then we head off to the African plains? Chloe and I have been reading about it.”
“I think they have giraffes,” Chloe said hopefully. “I'm pretty sure they do.”
“All right.” Emme opened the water bottle and took a drink. “If you don't mind hauling the cooler, we don't mind waiting here until you get back. And Chloe can tell me all about the rare animals she saw.”
He smiled, lifted the cooler, and winked at Chloe. “Five more minutes, kiddo,” he told her, “and we'll be on our way to the African plains.”
•
It had been so much easier than he'd imagined.
“What do you think?” he'd said, in his most concerned voice. “Do you think Belle really is missing, like this investigator says?”
“Yeah, I do,” Henry had replied. “We do. Did you see Lori's post on the message board? Lori and I are going to drive down to meet her and Belle's uncle today in Philadelphia.”
“Yeah, and it got me thinking, you know, about Belle trying to find Donor 1735 and her talking to
Aaron and stuff. I hadn't said anything on the message board, ′cause Belle had asked me not to, but she thought she'd found him, and—”
“She did? She told you that?”
“Yeah. Do you think I should tell the investigator?”
“Absolutely. That's the stuff she needs to know. Tell me what Belle told you, and I'll be happy to pass it on to her and Belle's uncle.”
“Actually, I'd feel better talking to her myself, you know, in case she has some questions or something.” He tried to sound tentative. “Do you think I could hook up with you guys somewhere and tag along?”
“Sure. Definitely. Hey, man, it'll be great to finally meet you. I can't wait to tell Lori. She'll be so excited.”
“I'm excited about meeting her, too.”
He'd picked a rest stop that was almost always deserted—“It'll be easier for us to find each other if there are fewer people around. Not so easy in a crowd.”—and had been delighted to find no one when he arrived. He parked at the back of the lot, near the trees, and waited. He set the stage—his car door open, his feet sticking out as if he was taking a nap. When he heard the car approach, his fingers closed around the handle of the gun he'd borrowed from the bottom drawer of his father's desk. Henry had appeared first, as he'd hoped. He couldn't have written the scene better if it had been for a movie.
“Hey, buddy, wake up.” Henry had grabbed his right foot and given it a friendly shake.
Had the flash from the barrel of the handgun even registered before the first round struck him in the
chest? Had he heard the crack, understood what was happening?
Confused, Lori had seemed frozen, half in, half out of their car, as she watched her brother collapse like a balloon losing air.
“Henry?” Finally, she got out of the car and got a good look at the heap on the ground. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. She probably hadn't even felt the crack to the back of her head with the butt end of the gun.
He tidily placed Henry in the Dumpster behind the restroom area, and Lori, still out cold, in the front seat of the car that would before long carry her to her destiny. Their long lost brother hesitated over the license plate of Henry's car. If he was going to remove it, he'd have to be fast. It was getting late and he could no longer count on no one needing the rest stop. He pulled on thin rubber gloves and removed the plate, then opened the glove box and took out the insurance card and the registration. He threw them into the trunk of his car along with the wallet he'd already lifted from Henry's back pocket, Henry's cell phone, Lori's handbag and laptop.
He closed up Henry's car and locked it before stripping off his gloves and tucking them under the front seat of his car.
“That oughta do it,” he said to Lori, who was just beginning to moan slightly as she started to come to.
He duct taped her wrists together and put a strip over her mouth, then strapped her in with the seat belt and closed and locked her door. Whistling, he got in behind the wheel and started the engine. Driving
north, he thanked his lucky stars that he was having such a good day.
He opened the sunroof to let in light and fresh air, and turned on the radio just in time to hear the beginning of one of his favorite songs. Damn, but it was a fine day.
Lori stirred beside him, and he smiled. The day was about to get even better.
W
here should I put her?” Nick turned in the doorway of Emme's hotel room, Chloe in his arms.
Emme gestured for him to follow her into the next room, then pointed to the far side of the bed.
“Thanks,” she whispered as he laid the child gently on the bed.
“I'll be out there.” Nick tilted his head in the direction of the small sitting room they'd first passed through.
She nodded and proceeded to remove Chloe's shoes. She lightly pulled the blanket up and tiptoed from the room.
“That was fast,” Nick said from his seat in the room's sole chair.
“There's no point in trying to undress her, it would only wake her. Though she's pretty well out right now.”
“She had a big day.”
“That's an understatement.” Emme sat on the edge of the small love seat, her knees touching his in the narrow space between the two pieces of furniture. “I don't know how to thank you for everything. You
really didn't have to drive all the way back here. It's so far out of your way. I can't even offer you a cup of coffee. Though we could call room service.” She stole a peek at the clock on the television. “The kitchen stays open until ten. I usually call down for coffee around now.”
“I wasn't ready to say good-bye after the zoo, and I wasn't ready to say good night after dinner. And I didn't come for the coffee.”
Emme's eyes darted toward the sleeping area where her daughter lay.
“Relax.” He reached across the short span between them and took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I just meant after spending the day together, I wasn't ready to have it end. On the drive over here, I was trying to remember the last time I enjoyed a day more … other than maybe at a car show. But if you're tired …”
“No, no,” she said. The last thing she wanted right now would be for him to leave. She knew that much. What she didn't know was what she'd want if he stayed.
“Good.” He smiled. “Now that we've got that out of the way, let's take a look at what we learned today.”
“Right.” She nodded. “What we learned.” She cleared her throat. “Well, we learned that … not so much about the case.”
“I wasn't talking about the case.”
“Oh.” She shifted slightly on the love seat. He was still holding her hand. “Well, then. I guess I learned that Trula's picnics pack a better selection than the kiosks at the zoo, and that my daughter has an infinite
capacity when it comes to learning the names of new animals.”
“And I learned that when you're with your daughter, you're a completely different woman. You drop your guard and you smile a lot more. Laugh a lot more, too,” Nick said. She opened her mouth to say something, but he continued. “But I understand that. I found myself smiling and laughing more than usual, too. It's hard not to when you have the opportunity to see the animal world through the eyes of a four-year-old.”
“I told you she'd talk you near to deafness.”
“What's that you say?” He cupped his ear with his hand like an old man who was hard of hearing, and laughed.
His laugh was sexy, low and deep in the back of his throat, and she wondered if she'd been trying to ignore that fact all day. Nah, she'd noticed. It would have been impossible not to.
“Chloe's very entertaining, and very smart, and very much fun to be around. She's lively and quick and doesn't miss a damned thing.” With both his hands holding hers, he tugged on them until their faces were less than a foot apart. “You've done a remarkable job with her. I'm sure it hasn't always been easy, raising her alone.”
“I haven't minded. I wouldn't trade a day with her—even the worst ones, and there have been some dicey times. Chloe slid face first into her terrible twos at about eighteen months and life was not so sweet there for a while. Fortunately, it passed in time for her to go to preschool.”
“She talked a lot today about school,” he recalled. “She must really like it.”
“It was so hard on her when we left California. It just killed me to take her away like that.” She bit back the words.
“Why did you?”
“I thought it would be better for her in the long run.” She repeated the story she'd given Mallory about the feuding factions in and around Silver Hill.
“Were you afraid her birth mother might change her mind and want to see her?”
“Her birth mother is dead.”
“How about her father?”
“He should be,” she snapped.
“Whoa, Emme.” His eyes narrowed at her outburst. “Tell me how you really feel.”
“Let's just say her birth father is not a good person, not a nice person. Not a man you would ever want your child to find out she was related to.”
“I think I stepped too close to the line,” he said. “I apologize.”
“It's okay, Nick.” For a moment, she was tempted to tell him the truth, but she forced that moment to pass. There was no point in spilling her secrets to him. The case she was working for him would end sooner or later, and he'd go back to his life and she'd get on with hers. There'd been times in her life when she'd regretted sharing a secret, but she couldn't recall a time when she'd been sorry she'd kept her mouth shut. “I don't dwell on it. Chloe and I came east because I had the opportunity to work for Robert Magellan. The Mercy Street Foundation is an exciting concept—not quite law enforcement, but …”
He leaned forward so smoothly, covering the space so easily, that she didn't see the kiss coming. One moment she was focused on steering the conversation into safer waters, the next she was focused on his mouth. Tentatively he'd drawn her closer, and when her hand rose to touch the side of his face, he'd pulled her even closer, deepening the kiss and kissing her in a way she hadn't been kissed since … she wasn't sure she'd ever been kissed like that. She felt a sudden heat flare up inside her and for a moment she thought of backing away from the flame, but her instincts took over and she kissed him back. When he finally broke away, it was a slow withdrawal of his lips, which lingered just slightly before making its way to the edge of her chin.
“I've been wanting to do that since the day you walked into my garage.”
“What took you so long?” she heard herself say.
“I was afraid you'd think I was like every other guy, and I didn't want you to think that.” His thumb traced a lazy outline of her lips.
“Like every other guy?”
“Every guy you meet must hit on you. I'm sure it gets old after a while.” He added, “I didn't want to seem like a cliché.”
“A cliché,” she repeated, and shook her head. “That's about the last word I'd use to describe you. And as for guys hitting on me … I can't remember the last time someone did.”
“You've gotta be joking.”
“I was a cop for seven years. I won the marksman award every time we went out to qualify on the range.” She grinned. “It's amazing what a few rounds
of target shooting will do for your reputation in a small town.”
“So are you packing now?”
“I don't have a license to carry concealed in Pennsylvania yet,” she told him. “I've applied though.”
“That isn't what I asked. Slick answer, though.”
“I bought one of my handguns from the department before I left California. Right now it's in the trunk of my car. I can't take the chance of Chloe finding it, but at the same time, I can't take the chance of …” She paused again. “The chance of needing to protect us and not being able to. What can I say?” She tried to make light of it. “I guess it's a cop thing.”
He looked as if he were about to comment when her phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket quickly before it rang again.
“Hello?” She waited a moment, then said again, “Hello?”
There was no response, but it was clear someone was on the line. “Who is this?”
For a moment before the line went dead, she thought she heard music in the background. Then … click. The line went dead.
Frowning, she scrolled up the number on her caller ID list. Henry Carroll-Wilson's name came up.
“What's wrong?” Nick asked. “Who was that?”