Reckless Endangerment (34 page)

“I called him,” Michael said.

“What?”  She started the car before glancing at him, confused. 

“I figured you’d want him called so...I called him.”

“I have a new cell phone, how’d you know his number?”  Suddenly nothing made sense to her foggy brain.

“He’s my lawyer, card was in my wallet.”

Stuck in the tangled mess of traffic that tried to maneuver around the overturned van and police cars, she felt like she wanted to throw up.  Without looking at either of her passengers, she took a minute to rest her forehead against the steering wheel and breathe.   When Michael rubbed her shoulder, she almost lost it.  Blinking back tears, she sat back up and stared at the chaos around them.

“You and Dalton should go with Gwen and Miles.  I need to go to the hospital, try to call mom and dad, even though I’m not sure where they are...traveling, but I’m not sure where.”  She looked Michael in the eye.  “I probably should know that, right?”

“Don’t go there.”  He shook his head, gaze locked with hers.  “You’re too hard on yourself.”

“I want to stay with you, go to the hospital,” Dalton said from where he’d strapped himself in the backseat.  “They’re my cousins, right?  I want to stay with you.”

“It’s not exactly a picnic,” she muttered under her breath as she stuck her arm out the window and waved at Devon and Marshall who leaned against a tree in the park.  She parked, blew out a shaky sigh and met Dalton’s gaze in the rear view mirror.  “The hospital’s not going to be much fun, might be sad.  I don’t even have a car seat for you.”

“I’ll get it from grandma.”  He shrugged his narrow shoulders, not backing down.  Very much like his daddy.  “I want to stay with you and dad.”

God, he freaked her out more than anyone she’d ever met and he was only six. 

“Was that Becky?”  Marshall asked once he’d reached the car.  He leaned his arm above the window and peered inside while Devon waited for the obvious answer.

She nodded, afraid her voice would crack.  Michael squeezed her knee.

Devon held up her cell phone and handed it to her.  A text message simply read, “You two should have listened to the warning Tuesday night.” 

She needed to throw up.  Pushing open the door, she shoved past her friends and found the nearest trashcan.  She held on to the sides and dry heaved over the trash.  Closing her eyes, she willed back the tears with all of her might.  She could not lose it, would not give whoever watched the satisfaction of seeing her break down. 

Devon rubbed her back and produced a wet wipe.  “Get ready because our dear friend Agent Wulf is talking to the Colonel.”

Hand shaking, she used the wet wipe over her entire face while remembering the photos Becky had received with her boys’ faces crossed out with red X’s.  She’d promised that they’d be okay. 

When she turned around, she saw Dalton and Gwen carrying the car seat toward the Jeep. 

“What am I going to do?”  She reached for another wet wipe, the coolness feeling good against her face.  “They’re not safe with me.”

Devon followed her gaze.  “Send the grandparents and the kid back to Colorado Springs until this is over.”

“None of this should be happening.”  She started walking toward them, her stomach still in knots and nerves shot. 

“I’ve got worse news...Callie and Gannon got married three weeks ago by the justice of the peace.” Devon stopped her in mid-stride.  “Michael didn’t get moved to the top of the waiting list just because of your connections, Hope.  Gannon paid a substantial sum of money to New Horizons Institute, at least according to my sources.  The real question is how did he know about him?”

She shoved her hands through her hair and looked toward the sky.  “And how did he know we were working on this story before then?  Go back to my loft, review that flash drive Rourke gave us, we must be missing something.  I need to get to the hospital.”

“Are you going to tell Michael?” Devon fell into step with her as they approached the Jeep.

“Yeah, I am.  He needs to know this custody threat is just another tool to stop me from leading the feds to Gannon.  Speaking of the feds, why don’t you fill Agent Wulf in on our latest discovery, too?  I know it’s not a crime to marry someone a few weeks ago and file a custody petition, but they should know what pieces of the puzzle we’re finding.  Hell, give him a copy of the flash drive.  Rourke’s dead.”  It was so much easier to think about work than to think about her sister and nephew being rushed to the hospital because of some story she’d refused to let go. 

Angry, still sick to her stomach, and freaked out that she had passengers who refused to go away, she shook Agent Wulf’s hand while observing Gwen locking the car seat into place.   

“You’re never too far away, are you, Wulf?” she asked, her voice still shaky and mind distracted. 

He grinned while nodding toward Devon and Marshall.  “And neither are they.  You have an entourage, Shane.  You’d better get to the hospital.  I won’t keep you.  The Colonel and I had a nice chat.”

She rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses but remained silent. 

“You okay?” Michael asked once she’d settled behind the wheel again.

“I really hate that question,” she muttered, once again looking into the rearview mirror at Dalton with his still painted tiger face.  “It shouldn’t be like this, you know.  Family day...shouldn’t be like this.”

Nothing felt like reality anymore.  She felt like she’d been thrust into some crazy alternate reality. 

* * * *

He watched her layout the picnic basket in the hotel waiting room, orange paint still visible on her forehead and chin, hair falling loose from the ponytail and muttering about everything going to be okay.  Gwen and Miles returned to the room with water bottles.  He knew Warren was with his youngest son who’d escaped the accident with stitches and a broken leg. 

Dalton also watched Hope with fascination filling his eyes.  He’d followed her everywhere since they’d gotten to the hospital, hung on her every word, helped layout paper towels for the sandwiches.  It was obvious that Hope’s star quality had captivated her stepson. 

“Hope said you need to eat.” Dalton thrust a sandwich in his lap before rushing back to her side. 

“I think he’s in love,” Miles said when he settled onto the sofa.  “Do you see the way he’s following her around?”

“I can relate.”  He looked at his dad.  “Thanks for staying here with us.”

“Our family now, too.”  Miles nodded without looking away from Hope and Dalton.  “She’s like a human tornado. Does she ever stop moving?”

McGee walked into the room, concern lining his face.  “There you guys are.  I called Devon, she told me where to find you.”

Hope froze in motion, her eyes narrowing as she watched McGee walked toward him.  Dalton did the same, even mimicking her pose of hands on hips. 

“Where’d you go?” he asked his friend, handing him the sandwich.  “We lost you at the zoo.”

“I got distracted.  By the time I figured you all had left, I saw the accident.  When I couldn’t reach Hope, I called Devon.  How’s Becky?”  McGee took the sandwich without breaking eye contact.  “I heard it was a hit and run.”

Hope glanced at her phone before sauntering over to him.  “I don’t have any missed calls, new phone, remember? I doubt Devon would tell anyone where I was.”

McGee took a bite of his sandwich without comment.  Dalton crossed his arms over his chest and looked as suspicious as Hope.  Michael felt like he was missing something. 

“Can I talk to you alone for a minute?” he asked.  “Down the hall or something?”

With a nod, she started walking toward the door.  Miles stopped Dalton from following them.  She walked ahead of him, her hands stuffed into the back pockets of her jeans and head bent.  He followed when she led him to the empty chapel at the end of the hallway.  She sat at the edge of a pew and sighed. 

“Only six people knew about our marriage and three are dead,” she said after a lengthy silence.  “Do the math.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Gannon married Callie three weeks ago, right around the time I started working on the human trafficking story.” She met his gaze in the dimly lit room.  “Gannon paid to have you transferred to Denver before you were officially discharged from Walter Reed.  You were brought here to be used against me...and I let it happen because I’m off my game.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and absorbed that information before answering.  “And you want to know how he even knew about me and think McGee has something to do with it?  That’s your thought?” 

“That’s my thought.”  She twisted on the seat, put her hands on his knees and looked so sad that his heart broke just looking into her eyes.  “Becky was targeted today.  Devon got a text basically confessing.  I did this to them.”

“You didn’t, some evil bastard did this to them, not you.” He laced his fingers through hers and tugged her closer.

“Dalton freaks me out.”

“He worships you.”  He smiled at her abrupt admission. 

“He shouldn’t.”

“He’s got good taste, just like his dad.”

“What do you want me to do?  Yesterday you wanted me to drop the story, give it to someone else...I’ll do it if you still think I should.”  She pressed her forehead against his, wrapped her hands around his neck and squeezed her eyes closed.  “Tell me what to do.”

She’d never once in all of the time he’d known her asked what to do.

He peeled her hands from around his neck and held them against his chest until she opened her eyes and looked at him.  “Do. Not. Let. Them. Win. Understand?”

“But yesterday—” 


“I was an idiot and I’ve admitted that already.”  He pulled her closer.  “Bring them down.  Do what you do.  I’m behind you one hundred percent.”

“But Dalton—”

“—will be fine.”

She grinned through the tears that slipped silently down her face.  “You’ve always had my back.”

“Not always.”  He wiped away her tears with his thumb.  “Gannon thinks I’m your weakness, but let’s turn that around on him. I’ll be your secret weapon.”

“Secret weapon?” She looked shocked. “Is this the same guy who arrived in Denver a week ago?”

“No.”  He pulled her against him until she curled up on his lap.  “Gannon did us a favor by brining me here ahead of time. I needed a good dose of Hope Shane to kick my ass.” 

“I love you, Colonel Cedars,” she said against his lips. 

“You must...you were ready to surrender.  That’s huge.”  He tasted her tears on her lips and felt his heart twist inside his chest.  “Becky and Nathan are gonna be okay.  They are.”

“What if they’re not?” she asked, eyes shimmering with sorrow and lips moist.  “Peter, Sarah...”

“Don’t do that.”  He pressed his fingers over her mouth.  This is why he’d deleted that text message from her phone.  She carried enough blame for things out of her control.  He hated that he’d added to that over this past week with all of his taunts born from pain.  “Peter was your partner.  I knew that.  He wanted that story as much as you did.  It was a war zone.  He knew the risks going in...just like I did every day.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against his shoulder.  Sobs came hard and unexpected.  He hugged her close and squeezed his eyes shut.  They’d had enough loss to last a lifetime.  He tightened his hold on her and crushed his face into her hair. 

“You don’t have to be so strong all of the time, babe. I’ve got you.”  He held her so hard he thought he’d snap her in two. 

She pressed hard against him, her arms around his neck as if he were her lifeline. And she cried, her entire body convulsing with sobs.

Somehow they’d make it.  Hell, they’d survived a war zone.  They could certainly take on real life back in the States, even if that involved taking down a weasel in a suit. 

Chapter Twenty-One

She double-checked the locks on her car before catching up to Devon who walked along the sidewalk toward the diner where they’d had breakfast Monday morning. She pulled her leather jacket tight around her to ward off the chilly night that hinted at snow. 

“She’s late,” Devon said with a frown.  “She said she’d text us at nine and it’s nearly ten.  I don’t like this.”

She shrugged off the guilt she’d felt at leaving the hospital.  Becky had gotten out of surgery, but was still in critical condition. Nathan would be okay.  Michael had taken his family back to the loft and encouraged her to go.  She tugged a yellow scarf from her messenger bag and linked it loosely around her neck.  A glance over her shoulder confirmed Special Agent Wulf and his band of merry men watched them. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t like anything about this story.  I’m ready to call it quits,” she muttered.