Extreme Measures

by Brenda Harlen

  She had to stop this insanity.

  Now.

  But it was Colin who pulled away.

  "I'll see you tomorrow," he said.

  As promised, Colin was there the next morning. And the morning after that. Day after day, until Nikki actually started to wonder if he wasn't going to stick around this time.

  She was pleased that Colin and Carly seemed to be bonding so well. The obvious closeness between father and daughter helped alleviate some of her lingering guilt. But as her conscience began to clear, she began to worry. She wanted Carly to have a good relationship with Colin, but she couldn't help feeling that the deepening affection between them threatened the mother-daughter bond she'd always cherished.

  Even when Nikki had time alone with Carly, which seemed increasingly rare now, Carly was always talking about Uncle Colin. If Nikki suggested going to the park or out for ice cream or anywhere else, Carly always wanted to know if Uncle Colin could come with them. Her daughter's enthusiasm was natural, or so Nikki tried to convince herself, but, there was a part of her that resented the connection between them, that wondered if Carly preferred to be with Colin.

  She knew it was an irrational reaction to the situation, but she couldn't help feeling that Colin was taking her place. He'd become the primary caregiver—the center of Carly's world. And Nikki was afraid if Carly was ever forced to choose, she would choose her father over her mother.

  But in the evenings, when Nikki was alone with Colin, just sitting and talking together, her fears would dissipate. At least for a while. And she would allow herself to dream that things could work, that they could be a real family. At the end of each evening, he'd say good-night with long, lingering kisses that made her remember how incredible it had been to make love with this man, and made her want to open her heart up to him again.

  On Thursday afternoon of Colin's second week with Carly, Nikki came home from work to find that his rental car wasn't in the driveway. Instead, there was a brand-new, gleaming black Jeep Grand Cherokee in its place.

  She got out of her own car and couldn't resist peeking through the window at the spotless leather interior.

  "Whose vehicle is that?" she asked, when she found Colin in the kitchen. She heard the theme song for Cosmic Cat emanating from the television in the living room, and she knew her daughter wouldn't move from the sofa in the next twenty minutes.

  "Mine," he replied.

  "What was wrong with the Porsche?"

  "That was just a rental." He grinned. "This is mine."

  She fought against the joy that sparked in her heart. Just because he'd bought a truck didn't mean he was going to stick around for the long haul. A vehicle had wheels; it was infinitely transportable. Colin could use it wherever he went, and to get wherever he was going.

  But there was also the large-screen television that had been delivered the previous day. The deluxe climber and swing-set that had taken three men several hours to set up in the backyard Monday afternoon. He'd even bought shoes for Nikki—a pair of high-heeled, silver-colored sandals, just like the ones Carly had ruined.

  She'd been absurdly touched by that gift, even more so when Carly had detailed how they'd gone from store to store with her one undamaged shoe looking for a matching pair. But the shoes and the climber and the television were just things, she reminded herself. Colin had always been generous with gifts, free with his money—he could afford to be.

  "Do you want to go for a drive?" he asked. "We could go parking up at Lookout Point."

  Her lips curved. "The kids up there would think we'd gotten lost."

  "Not after we steamed up the windows good."

  Why was it that he could tempt her with such a ridiculous invitation? "Why are you doing this, Colin?"

  "Doing what?"

  "Pretending that you plan on staying, when we both know you can't wait to get out of this town."

  "That may have been true at one time," he said, slipping his arms around her waist and drawing her closer. "But things have changed."

  "What's changed?" she asked, helpless to keep the bitterness from her voice. "Other than that you don't have a job to run off to."

  "A lot of things have changed," he said. "Including the fact that I now have a daughter here."

  "Is that going to be enough for you?"

  "Probably not," he admitted, his voice low. "Carly is only part of the reason that I want to stay."

  She put a hand on his chest as he moved toward her. "Don't, Colin."

  "Don't what? Don't tell you how I feel?" He turned away abruptly, raked his fingers through his hair. "Dammit, Nicole. How long are you going to make me pay for being an idiot five years ago?"

  "This isn't some kind of retaliation," she retorted. "It's my life."

  "All I'm asking is to be part of your life."

  "You're in it, whether I want you to be or not."

  "Come on, Nic. Can you honestly tell me that you haven't enjoyed the time we've spent together over the past couple of weeks?"

  She sighed, because she couldn't. Not honestly, anyway.

  His eyes narrowed. "I'm not going to walk out on you this time. Sooner or later, you're going to have to acknowledge that truth."

  "Time will tell." She turned to walk away, but he caught her wrist, held it. The familiar zing of awareness skated up her arm, arrowed straight for her heart.

  He put his other hand on her waist and turned her around so that she was facing him. "You don't have to be afraid, Nicole."

  She stiffened, but her eyes were steady on his. "I'm not afraid. Just cautious."

  He pulled her closer, skimmed his hands up her spine.

  "Does being cautious keep you warm at night?"

  He grazed her earlobe with his lips.

  "Does it make your body tremble with anticipation?"

  He touched his tongue to the pulse point at the base of her jaw.

  "Does it make you scream out in pleasure?"

  She put a hand on his chest, but she didn't push him away. "Don't," she said again.

  "Don't what? Don't remind you how good it was between us?"

  "Don't make me want something I can't have."

  "We could have it all, Nic."

  She shook her head. "It's too soon."

  "And I was thinking that it's taken us far too long to get to this point." He smiled ruefully and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. "But I didn't mean to pressure you."

  She gave him a wry smile. "Yes, you did."

  "Maybe just a little," he admitted.

  "I really want to believe this would work," she told him.

  "Then let yourself," Colin murmured. "Believe in me. Believe in us."

  Then he kissed her, and Nikki closed her eyes and let herself at least consider the possibilities. Not the least of which was taking Colin upstairs and spending some quality time with him in her bedroom.

  But that would be extremely dangerous. Because she knew she couldn't give him her body without opening her heart. And she'd vowed to protect her heart at all costs.

  She didn't see any harm in a few little kisses, though. Even if his kisses did make her bones melt and her heart pound against her ribs so hard she thought they might crack.

  "You guys should get a room," Arden's voice interrupted.

  Nikki pulled away from Colin, her face flushed like a schoolgirl's. Well, better Arden than Carly, she thought. She was still answering questions about that kiss in the kitchen their daughter had interrupted.

  "Actually," Colin said, not the least embarrassed about the lip lock they'd been in when Arden entered the room. "I was just trying to talk Nikki into taking a drive in my new Jeep."

  "It looked more like your tongue talking to her tonsils," Arden said dryly.

  He grinned. "Her tonsils were resisting the idea."

  Nikki cleared her throat. "Could you two please stop talking about me as if I wasn't in the room?"

  "Just go for the ride. All this sexual tension in the air is unhealthy for the r
est of us," Arden said, causing Nikki's cheeks to heat again.

  It was time, she decided firmly, to assert control over the situation. "Carly," Nikki called to her daughter. "Do you want to go for a ride in Uncle Colin's Jeep?"

  Colin's cocky grin slipped a notch. "I am not taking you up to Lookout Point with a four-and-a-half-year-old in the back seat," he muttered under his breath.

  Nikki's smile was just a little smug. "Exactly."

  The Cone Zone was a busy place on a Thursday night. Of course, the unexpected heat wave that had blanketed the town with ninety-degree temperatures for the past few days probably hadn't hurt the business any.

  Boomer parked beside a snazzy black Jeep and reluctantly left the climate-controlled interior of his borrowed vehicle to join the line of patrons that extended through the open door of the restaurant. His shirt was sticking to his back before he'd even crossed the parking lot, and he took a handkerchief from the pocket of his shorts to wipe the perspiration from his brow.

  The line slowly inched forward until he was finally inside, out of the blinding sun and oppressive heat. He perused the menu behind the counter as he wiped his brow again. There were too many flavors, too many choices. He liked things to be simple. Unfortunately, nothing had been simple since he'd signed on for this thankless assignment.

  He turned his attention from the item list to the customers milling around. Mostly teenagers, he noted, in pairs or larger groups, and a few families. The couple in front of him had their arms wrapped around each other, their hands in one another's back pockets. He couldn't imagine wanting to get that close to another human being in this stifling heat.

  Shaking his head, he focused his attention on the party directly in front of the groping adolescents. A man and a woman with a child—a little girl—standing between them.

  His assessed the male figure critically. Approximately six feet tall, muscular build, medium brown hair. Were the eyes shaded behind those dark sunglasses green? It was impossible to tell, but the rest of the description was close enough to hold his attention.

  The teenagers moved away with their sundaes and the trio stepped up to the counter.

  "One double scoop of Pralines 'n' Cream, one double Chocolate Cookie Crunch, and…" The man looked down at the little girl. "What are you going to have, Carly?"

  "Strawberry!"

  "And a single strawberry."

  "Double, Uncle Colin."

  Colin. The sound of the name released a quick jolt of adrenaline through his system.

  "Okay," the man called "Uncle Colin" relented, then he grinned at the child before turning back to the server. "Make that a double scoop of strawberry."

  ".Please," the child reminded him.

  "Uncle Colin" smiled. "Please."

  Boomer smiled, too.

  The target had finally been confirmed.

  Chapter 10

  Colin parked across the street from the police station, then sat in his vehicle for a long moment, the scrap of paper weighing heavily in his pocket. He was probably overreacting. He was almost certain of it. But as often as he tried convince himself of that fact, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being followed.

  It was like a strange tingling at the back of his neck. An uncomfortable sensation that stole over him at times, an eerie suspicion that he wasn't alone. Paranoia, most likely, brought on by Parnell's threats and the deaths of three innocent people. The first time he'd experienced the feeling, he'd noticed a dark blue Honda behind him on the way to his brother's house. He hadn't thought too much about it at the time, but he was sure he'd seen the same vehicle at least three times since then. Most recently Friday morning when he'd taken Carly to the park.

  While he might be willing to disregard his intuition and take chances with his own life, he wouldn't risk anything happening to his daughter. So he'd called the precinct to find out when Detective Creighton would be working.

  Colin had played minor hockey with Dylan Creighton when they were kids, and they'd remained friends—if not close—through high school. Of course, Colin had left Fairweather soon after to play professional hockey and Dylan had enrolled in the police academy.

  He'd seen Dylan infrequently on his trips home over the years, which meant not at all in the past five years. But Colin knew it would be easier to share his concerns with an old friend than a complete stranger.

  "Colin MacIver." Dylan rose from his desk and extended a hand. "I'd heard a rumor you were back in town."

  Colin accepted the proffered hand. "For a while, anyway."

  "I haven't seen you since the judge's funeral."

  "I haven't been back since then," Colin admitted.

  The detective sat back down behind the scarred metal desk. "This is your first trip home in more than five years?"

  Colin just shrugged. "I've been busy."

  "I've been following your team," Dylan told him. "You had a great season."

  "Until the play-offs," Colin agreed.

  "There's always next year."

  But Colin wasn't sure there would be a next year. Even if the new owners wanted to renew his contract, Colin wasn't sure he wanted to go back—not if it meant leaving his daughter behind. Three weeks earlier, he hadn't even known he had a child. Now he couldn't imagine his life without her.

  "Although I'd like to think you just dropped by to say hello, it looks like you've got something on your mind," Dylan said.

  "Yeah. It's probably nothing but…"

  "What's probably nothing?"

  Colin took the scrap of paper out of his pocket and passed it across the desk.

  "License-plate number?"

  He nodded. "Of a dark blue, late model Civic hatchback."

  Dylan scribbled the details and license-plate number on a scratch pad.

  "It's probably just a coincidence," Colin said, "but I've noticed the vehicle on a few occasions. Almost as if the driver is following me." And although he believed it was a coincidence, he couldn't take the chance. He couldn't risk anything happening to Nikki or Carly.

  "Do you have any reason to suspect that someone would be following you?"

  Briefly Colin explained about Duncan Parnell's threats, the bomb in his condo, the incident at the hotel in Baltimore, Parnell's escape from custody, and the more recent and unsettling feeling that he was being followed, along with specific sightings of the vehicle.

  "All of this because you benched the kid in the playoffs?"

  Colin just nodded. It was easier than explaining the whole story—the car accident over the Christmas break that had wrecked Parnell's back, his intensive therapy, the nonprescription medication he'd relied on to help him play through the pain. Colin hadn't realized how bad Parnell was still hurting until Gil Beauchamp—a teammate of Parnell's and one of his closest friends—had told him, and Beauchamp had only confided in Colin because he was concerned that Parnell was popping more and more of the little white tablets to make it through a game.

  It was almost the end of the season when he'd confronted Parnell about the drugs. Parnell had tried to dismiss the concerns, claiming that he just needed a little something to take the edge off the pain. Colin blamed himself for not having seen the symptoms sooner, and he knew the only way to help Parnell—to force the kid into treatment for his addiction—was to scratch him from the roster. He'd regretted the decision ever since.

  Dylan shook his head. "And they say being a cop is dangerous."

  Colin just shrugged.

  "Can you tell me anything else about this vehicle?" Dylan asked.

  He thought for a moment. "I don't think so."

  "What about the driver? Male or female?"

  "He hasn't been close enough for me to get a good look, but I'm pretty sure he's male."

  "I'm sure you're right," Dylan agreed. "If it was a female, you'd have her phone number instead of her license-plate number."

  "And I wouldn't be giving it to you," Colin retorted.

  The detective grinned. "I'll check this out for you.
"

  He left the police station reassured that Dylan would take care of the situation, allowing Colin to concentrate on reuniting his family.

  The key in convincing Nikki that he would be there for her and Carly, Colin decided, was to back up his words with action. She'd had more than five years for the resentment and distrust to grow; he couldn't expect to overcome those negative feelings overnight. It would take time and perseverance to change Nikki's mind about who he was and what he wanted. It was a good thing he had plenty of both.

  He knocked on the back door at the preappointed time for their trip to the zoo Saturday morning, anxious to get started on his campaign. A family outing—hopefully the first of many—would be a great opportunity to show Nikki that he wanted to be a family.

  But when Nikki opened the door, she didn't appear to be ready to go to the zoo or anywhere else. His eyes flickered over her. The leggings and oversize T-shirt she wore looked as if she'd slept in them, and the tousled hair and bleary eyes suggested that she'd still been sleeping when he'd knocked.

  Even disheveled, she managed to look sexy, reminding him of just how she'd looked when she'd crawled out of their bed after a night of passionate lovemaking. He cleared his throat. "You're not ready."

  "I'm sorry." She smothered a yawn with the back of her hand as she stepped away from the door to allow him entry. "I meant to call you first thing, but…" Her words trailed off, her brows drew together. "I don't even remember hearing the alarm."

  "You look like you've had a rough night," Colin said, noting the dark shadows under her eyes, the fatigue in her shoulders.

  "I did," she agreed. "We all did. Carly was sick last night, and Arden and I took turns sitting with her."

  He experienced a quick flash of panic. "Is she okay?"

  Nikki nodded. "I'm sure she will be."

  "Was it something I did?"

  Her brow furrowed. "What?"

  "I was with her all day yesterday. I must have fed her something—or done something—or maybe I forgot to do something—"

  "Colin." Nikki spoke to him sharply, then softened the harsh interruption with a weary smile. "You didn't do anything wrong. Kids get sick every now and again, and Carly just happened to choose last night to do it."