She climbed in and plunked down in a corner. Two pigs, which she decided were sows after a quick look, were in the bed of the truck.
Mace joined her. “Might as well make ourselves comfortable,” he said and stretched out his legs.
“Do you think we lost them?” she asked, referring to the tangos.
“For now.”
“You’re loving this, aren’t you?”
He grinned at her. “And you aren’t?”
“Yeah. I guess I am.”
In the last two hours, she’d met the murderous head of the Collective’s Southeast region, fought off two men intent on killing Mace and abducting her, and had made a wild run through the forest that ended up with her in a culvert covered with mud and muck. Enjoying a respite from all that, plus the company of two friendly-looking sows, was definitely a step-up.
“You’re beautiful.”
Her heart stopped, then did a fluttery dance in her chest before settling.
“You beat everything. You wait until I’m covered in mud and mosquito bites and then decide to tell me that I’m beautiful.”
“Because you are.” His voice dropped, and he leaned in. The kiss was long and slow. If she had been standing, her knees would have gone weak. She’d always dismissed the saying as a cliché, but now she understood. As it was, the kiss had turned her mind to mush, and she struggled to regain her equilibrium.
Easy, girl, she cautioned herself, with a reminder that the kiss was only a reaction to the danger they’d shared a short while ago, a confirmation that they were alive.
Despite her warning, though, she couldn’t help but respond to the gentle pressure of his lips.
He cupped the back of her neck and let his forehead rest against hers before pulling away. “You’re some kind of strong.”
“Because I didn’t faint at the idea of sharing a ride with two pigs?” Her tart words couldn’t mask the exhaustion in her voice.
“Because you just keep going. No matter what.” He didn’t give her time to chew over that, instead gesturing to her ankle. “How’s it doing?”
“Not bad. It helped when you strapped it up.”
When she caught a whiff of something foul, she started to attribute it to the pigs, then realized that the smell came from her. “I’m afraid they smell better than we do.”
Mace grinned. “I’m thinking you’re right.” His expression turned serious. “Those men were waiting for us. It was no coincidence that they knew we’d be coming out of the prison at that time.”
“We’re on the same page there. Someone had to alert them to where we’d be.”
“Someone in the prison.”
“You said the Collective had a long reach,” Laurel said. “This proves it. And we can’t do anything about it. We don’t know who in the police is on the take. And if we do report this, they’ll say that without proof, their hands are tied. Who do we trust?”
“Ourselves. Ourselves and S&J.”
The sobering exchange reminded her that they had a long way to go before they could put an end to Winston’s reign of terror.
He reached out to chuck her under the chin. “You and I have some things to figure out once this is all over. Maybe we will. Maybe we won’t. In the meantime, we’d better keep things just business between us.”
Business? Her brain agreed. But her heart? Her heart had its own needs, and business was not one of them. And what of the kiss he’d just given her? She looked at him in exasperation and then gave up trying to make sense of the whole thing.
The obliging driver dropped them not far from the safe house. “When I tell my missus about this, she’ll likely say some prayers for you folks. Looks like you could use ’em.”
Mace helped Laurel down from the truck.
She turned to the driver. “Thank you. And thank your missus for us, too.”
Attracting odd stares, and, in some cases, horrified looks by pedestrians, they hoofed it to the safe house.
After they cleaned up, Mace checked her ankle and rewrapped it, using an elastic bandage this time.
Mace handed her a Sig Sauer, similar to her own that had been lost. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s registered.”
“Thank you.”
She saw to Sammy, and a quick lunch later, they took a cab to S&J headquarters where they found both Shelley and Jake in her office.
Before Laurel and Mace could report on the meeting with Winston and the ambush, Shelley said, “Cheek swab time.” She gave Laurel a cotton swab. “Easy-peasy,” Shelley said. “Jake and I have already done ours.”
Jake looked on, expression unreadable, but he didn’t voice any objection.
Laurel swabbed her cheek, then placed the swab in a small plastic bag that came with the kit. A myriad of emotions swirled through her, but hope was at the center as she acknowledged to herself how much she wanted the test to prove that she was, indeed, Shelley and Jake’s sister.
“Thank you,” she said simply. Aware of the huskiness of her voice, she cleared her throat and gestured to Mace. “It’s time to ’fess up and tell them about the truck and the rest of our day.”
Shelley pretended to scowl when she learned about the truck. “You go through vehicles faster than Chloe does diapers,” she said to Mace. “Good thing we’re insured.” She excused herself, then returned several minutes later.
“We’re rattling somebody’s cage,” Mace said.
“And they’re rattling ours right back.” Laurel pushed a stray strand of hair back from her face.
“How’d they know you’d be at the prison?” Shelley asked. “It wasn’t a coincidence that they found you.”
Mace shook his head. “You’re right. It was no coincidence. Someone knew. You made the arrangements for the visit two days ago, right?”
Shelley nodded.
“Who did you talk to?”
“The assistant chief at the bureau of prison affairs and, after that, the warden.” Her brow furrowed. “Either of them could be on the Collective’s payroll. Maybe that’s how Winston’s getting word out of the prison.”
“Other people had to know as well,” Laurel said. “Secretaries. The deputy warden. The guard that brought Winston to us. Word that we were planning on visiting him could have gotten out any number of ways.”
“I can run background checks on them,” Shelley said. “See who might have a big need of money.”
Jake barked out a laugh. “Who doesn’t?”
“I hear you,” Mace said. “Still, we’ve got to start somewhere.” He shifted to Laurel. “Are you okay? We’ve had what some might call a full day.”
That elicited a laugh from all four of them.
“I’m as okay as I can be, considering. It’s not every day that I get to ride in the back of a truck with two pigs.”
Shelley leaned closer. “Now this I’ve got to hear.”
* * *
Mace’s mind might have been on the discussion going on around him about pigs, mud and who could have set up him and Laurel outside the prison. It might have been, probably should have been, but it wasn’t.
Instead, it was far removed from the topic, his thoughts centering on Laurel and the kisses they’d shared this morning outside the prison and in the farmer’s truck. The memory of both still lingered on his lips and in his mind.
The direction of his thoughts left him edgy. Smarter to put that aside, as there were other things—bigger things—to feel edgy about. Like the Collective’s unrelenting pursuit of Laurel and what it would do to her once it got its hands on the ledger.
His lips tightened at the mere idea of something happening to her.
Laurel was quickly becoming important to him. Too important?
It wasn’t difficult to find reasons to admire her. Courage, honor and determination to do the right thing were as much a part of
her as were her chestnut hair, golden eyes and freckles. She wasn’t one to run from a fight but would draw a line in the sand and then dare anyone to cross it.
The quiet goodness that colored everything Laurel did drew him to her as much as did her undeniable beauty of which she seemed totally unaware. Another of her charms.
Aside from the integrity she wore so effortlessly, her faith also set her apart. He took a step back from his thoughts. Though she hadn’t said so, her belief would always be a stumbling block between them if they were ever to have a relationship.
A second step back. No need to worry about her faith or his lack of the same. A relationship—with Laurel or anyone for that matter—wasn’t in the future for him.
But a man could dream, couldn’t he?
His meanderings annoyed him. He was an ex-Ranger, one who had seen too much of the world’s ugliness. He had no business thinking of Laurel as anything more than a client, a very appealing, very attractive client, but a client all the same.
Neutrality was a far better position. He let his gaze rest on Laurel and forgot about any neutrality in his feelings for her.
Get over it, man. Laurel will return to the Rangers. You’ll stay here and keep working for S&J. That’s the way you want it.
“Mace, you with us?” Jake asked.
Mace looked up, hoping guilt that he had blanked out the discussion for a few minutes didn’t show in his eyes. “Yeah. Right here.”
When the talk ended, Jake hung back after Shelley and Laurel left. “Mace, got a minute?”
Pretty sure where this was going, Mace nodded.
Jake leaned back against Shelley’s desk. “You like Laurel. In fact, I’d say that you more than like her.”
Mace didn’t like where this was going. “Is that a problem?” Forgotten was his lecture to himself that Laurel was only a client.
“You’re one of the best operatives S&J has. What’s more, you’re one of the best men I know. You’d never deliberately hurt Laurel, but you might end up hurting her anyway.”
Mace wanted to deny it but held his tongue. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to think about where this thing with Laurel is going.” Jake slanted a hard look Mace’s way. “I know you care about her.”
Mace kept his voice even. “Like you said, I care about her.” Caring was okay. He cared about other people, including Jake and Shelley and their families.
Jake stood, paced the confines of his sister’s office. “I make it a practice to stay out of other people’s business, but Laurel might be family. Shelley sure seems to think so. And that makes it my business.”
“Laurel’s a Ranger. Seems to me that she can take care of herself.”
“Ordinarily, yes, but she’s also vulnerable. Not just because of her injury. All this stuff with her maybe being our half-sister complicates things.”
Mace nodded.
Logic and reason had ruled his life ever since he could remember. With Laurel, that had all ended. He had allowed his feelings to gain the upper hand. He thought of the sigh of pleasure she’d issued after he’d kissed her in the back of the farmer’s truck. It was soft as a baby’s whisper, as powerful as the feelings that shimmered between them.
He should have been focused on the mission—protecting her from the Collective—rather than fantasizing over her, but he was off his game and had been ever since meeting Laurel.
Maybe he was overthinking the whole thing. Laurel was an assignment. As long as they were working together, he’d enjoy her company. No biggie.
Yeah, right.
ELEVEN
“Come to dinner tonight,” Shelley said as Mace caught up to her and Laurel as they headed to the parking lot. “Both of you.”
“I’ve got to get back to Sammy,” Laurel said. “I’ve left him alone for too long today.”
“Bring him along.”
“We’ve got no wheels,” Mace reminded Shelley. He noted the tiredness in Laurel’s eyes and that she was favoring her injured ankle again. Instinctively, he tucked an arm around her waist.
A flicker of Shelley’s eyes said that she’d caught the gesture, but she didn’t say anything regarding it. “Yes, you do. I ordered a rental, another rental,” she emphasized, “when you told me about the truck. It’s here waiting for you. Try to make it last more than a day.” Her grin took any sting out of the words. “Dinner’s at seven, all right?”
Laurel looked to Mace, who nodded. They swung by the safe house to pick up Sammy. The dog greeted them joyfully and, after she saw to his needs, climbed into the truck.
She was quiet on the drive to Shelley and Caleb’s house, too intent on thinking of the interview with Ronnie Winston to make conversation. He didn’t impress her as someone with the intelligence and initiative she’d expect of the head of the Southeast Collective.
When they arrived, Laurel felt that she’d stepped into a different world from that in which she’d grown up.
Love filled the house. It was there in the scatter of toys, in the flowers that spilled out of a fat vase, in the family photos that covered nearly every flat surface.
“Will the children be all right with Sammy? He’s a sweetheart, but he’s a big dog. I wouldn’t want him to frighten them.”
“Why don’t we let Tommy answer that?” Shelley called Tommy from the other room. “We’ve got company.”
Tommy ran into the room and skidded to a stop. “Ah, Shelley. I was just...”
Whatever he’d been about to say took a back seat to Sammy, who sat patiently at Laurel’s side.
“What a great dog. Is he yours?” Tommy hunkered down to pet Sammy, who gave a rumble of pleasure at having his neck scratched.
Tommy looked to be about nine years old. The patches on his jeans and the scrape on his elbow had Laurel smiling.
“Tommy, this is Laurel and Sammy. You know Mace. How would you feel about taking Sammy out back to play?”
Tommy turned to Laurel. “Can I?”
“He’d love it.”
“What about his leg?” Concern creased a line between his brows.
“Sammy’s learned to compensate. He’ll keep up with you just fine.”
“Come on, Sammy,” Tommy said, getting to his feet.
After a look at Laurel, Sammy took off after Tommy, who whooped with delight.
The four adults looked after boy and dog. “Love at first sight,” Shelley said.
Laurel smiled. “That’s the way it was for me when I first saw Sammy.”
“What happened to him, if you don’t mind me asking.”
“Sammy was an explosives-sniffing dog. He went into a school, alerted his handlers. They cleared the school, but missed one of the bombs. Sammy didn’t get out in time, along with me and three others. The doctors operated but couldn’t save his leg. He was decommissioned, around the same time I was put on medical leave. He’s a hero, as much as any soldier who’s served.” With an effort, she kept her voice steady.
“What will you do with him when you return to duty?”
“I don’t know,” Laurel admitted. “He and I...we’re family.”
“He’s fortunate to have you.”
“It’s the other way around. I’m the fortunate one. Sammy was there for me when I needed him.” That was the truth. Without Sammy, Laurel wasn’t certain she’d have had the courage to get up every day and endure the torment through which the physical therapist put her.
Shelley’s eyes turned soft. “I’d say you were there for each other. That’s what family does.”
Laurel heard the love in Shelley’s voice.
“Let’s go outside.” Shelley flung open the French doors at the side of the room, gestured to the garden which boasted a small courtyard surrounded by plants and flowers of every shape and color. Comfortable-looking lawn chairs and lounges invited yo
u to sit down and put up your feet, while a cedar bench cozied up against a backdrop of greenery.
While Caleb took Mace to the far side of the garden to look at a project, Shelley and Laurel sat on a wicker bench.
Laurel stared in wonder at a garden dusted with nature’s beauty.
Ambitious clematis, too restless to stay put, climbed a pergola, purple flowers the size of saucers blooming in celebration of the earth’s bounty. Wisteria quietly found purchase on the handles of an ancient wheelbarrow where delicate violas happily shared space with hearty marigolds. Woodland faeries fashioned from intricately carved cypress played hide-and-seek in the jungle of flowers.
Shelley picked up one of the faeries and ran her fingers over it. “Caleb made this one when Tommy’s adoption was final.” She set the faerie down and picked up another. “And this when Chloe was born.”
Laurel made a slow turn. Strings of miniature lights wound their way through a wrought iron arbor. White lights twinkled against the night, a sprinkling of diamond dust.
The effect was at once wild and oddly restful.
She made a sound of pleasure. The garden, redolent with the scent of rich earth, magnolias and roses, promised a return to earlier times, when gracious living and gentility were the norm and a slower way of life was not only accepted but expected, a time of handwritten notes on engraved stationery and freshly squeezed lemonade with sprigs of mint served in frosted glasses.
The garden was really an extension of the indoors. The eclectic theme of the living room was continued here with mismatched pieces married together in a cheerful mix that was both soothing and energizing. A vintage sundial kept time next to a group of three iron balls that looked like a child’s toys, only they were giant sized. As if there weren’t enough blooms growing in a riot of colors and scents, pots of flowers were placed in random spots, including climbing the rungs of an ancient ladder.
“It’s beautiful,” Laurel said honestly.
“It’s home.” Shelley spread her arms to encompass the whole. “This place was all I could afford when I decided I wanted a house of my own. Now I couldn’t think of living anywhere else. Caleb and Tommy helped with the garden. Turns out they have the green thumbs of the family.” She gave a rueful glance at her own hands. “Whereas I’ve been known to kill a silk plant.”
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