by Dana Mentink
Rico got to his feet in a blaze of hatred.
“I will kill you both,” he growled. “And you will be forced to watch her die first, Popeye.”
“Not gonna happen,” Marco snarled back.
Rico’s cohort gunned the SUV to life. The dazed Escalade driver dived into the backseat with Shoe Guy. One of them shoved the rear door open and Marco dropped to the ground as a spray of automatic weapon fire whizzed through the air. Bullets furrowed the dirt as he rolled under the truck for cover. He caught a glimpse of Rico jumping into the passenger seat before the car careened away. Striking his fists on the ground in frustration did nothing to let his anger out. Rico had escaped, again, and almost murdered Candace. Again.
He got to his feet and found Candace behind the truck, where Dev had taken her for cover when the shots started.
She flew to him and wrapped him in a hug. “I’m so glad I didn’t run you over.”
“Me, too.” He held her close, allowing his mouth to stray to her neck, feeling the frantic beating of her pulse against his lips. He pressed his face to her skin and breathed in the scent of her. She was unharmed, unhurt in spite of his failure to read the situation. Thank You, Lord.
He shot Dev a look as she slipped from his grasp and pulled her jacket sleeves over her hands, as if she could somehow hide herself.
“What took you so long to get here?” he said to Dev.
“Traffic, man. It’s ridiculous in SoCal.”
Candace laughed. The fact that she could actually find humor at the moment took Marco’s breath away. He examined his truck.
“It’s drivable,” he said. “Going to...” He tried to resist the urge to bark orders. “I suggest we go to the office, wait until dark to return to the safe house.” The whine of sirens sounded in the distance. “After we talk to the cops, I mean. This is going to be a fun conversation.”
“I’m not into chatting with cops. It gives me a headache,” Dev said, jutting his chin.
He walked away toward his parked motorcycle, before the cops arrived.
Marco and Candace endured what turned into a two-hour interview that concluded at the Long Beach Police station. He was just grateful that Ridley and Barnes had not arrived to make the situation even more unpleasant. It was almost one o’clock by the time they were released, though Marco’s truck had been impounded for evidence. Marco led Candace to his motorcycle, which was parked in the police lot.
“How did that get here?” she asked.
“Lon brought it.”
Marco put his spare helmet over her curls. She looked all of twenty with the helmet accentuating her freckles and curly tendrils of hair peeking out.
“And it’s a good idea to keep switching up the vehicles,” he added.
“In case the Pack tries something else?”
“Yeah.” He fastened the buckle for her, fingers grazing the silk of her cheeks. He wanted to pull her close, but steeled himself and kept his distance. After a calming breath, he asked in the nicest way he knew how, “Why didn’t you drive away like I told you to? You should have gotten clear. That was the first priority.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said with a sigh. “But I’m not great at the following-orders thing.”
He fought hard against a smile. “Color me shocked.”
She sniffed. “Besides, you needed help.”
“I had it under control.” Brash words, and he was not surprised when she saw right through them.
“Uh-huh. Sure you did.”
“Things would have turned around. I was sizing up the situation when you made your move.”
“Right.”
Candace had always had the power to read his thoughts, his heart. He couldn’t bluff with her, never had been able to. He huffed out a breath and confessed, “I didn’t read the situation right. I should never have allowed this to happen.” He found himself looking at his boots, the ground, the long afternoon shadows playing across the grass, anywhere but her face.
She hooked a finger under his chin and guided his gaze until it locked on hers—chocolate splendor, rich and sweet.
“Marco,” she said, “quit it.”
“Quit what?”
“Blaming yourself. I’m safe because of you and Dev. Tracy is safe back home and—” she gave him grin “—let’s face it, you’re safe because I saved your bacon.”
He couldn’t hold back his chuckle at her cockiness. “You are too much, Candace Gallagher.”
“I know, so what do you say we go to the office and find out how to make some trouble for Jay Rico? He’s made plenty for us already.”
Marco grinned. How he loved that streak of sass in her. “Yes, ma’am.”
They climbed aboard Marco’s motorcycle. She clung tight to his waist, her chin pressed against his shoulder blade. Her bravado aside, it didn’t change the truth. As much as he wanted to let his conscience be soothed, he replayed the scenario over and over, how close they’d come to disaster on his watch.
Rico was not just a dumb thug. The guy had smarts and he was absolutely convinced he was in the right. Deadly combination. Marco allowed his brain to replay their conversation. Rico had accused him of something he’d blamed himself of many times—deserting Gwen for his duty.
But hadn’t he tried everything? Deployed thinking she had beaten her addiction? Maybe that was self-delusion. He’d chosen to see what he wanted to so he could leave with a clear conscience. Was the lure of the navy louder than the silent pleas of his wife?
“You left her to go do your Popeye thing, and she crashed.”
He blinked. Don’t let Rico get into your head.
They drove to Coronado and Marco made sure they stayed firmly in the flow of traffic, though he saw no signs of pursuit. Access to Coronado Island, actually a peninsula, was somewhat restricted. Visitors could cross the Coronado Bridge or take the ferry. Since it was fall, the tide of tourists had lessened, which would make it easier to spot any Pack members tailing them.
He saw no sign of trouble and neither did Dev, who showed up at the office as Marco parked the bike. “Did you explain everything to la policia?”
“No thanks to you,” Marco said with a chuckle.
“You got plenty of hot air to do the job without me.”
Dan and Angela joined them.
“Tracy is fine,” Angela hastened to say, after squeezing Candace in a tight clasp. “Auntie Donna is hanging out at the Party Palace with Uncle Brent, so I could come say hello to this big lug.”
Dan smiled, and Marco gave him a nod.
“Looks like you had yourselves a day,” Dan said, wrapping his arm around Angela. Marco hadn’t had a lot of time to get to know the doctor, but it was clear that he was head over heels for Angela, and that made him okay in Marco’s book, at least for the moment.
Candace related in detail what had happened, and Angela’s eyes grew wider and wider. She got up and clutched her sister’s hand. “I’m starting to get really scared for you.”
Candace hugged her again. “I’m okay. God’s gotten me through this far, with an assist from Marco and Dev.”
Baxter pushed the door open. “Officer Ridley here to see you. I figured I’d show him in.”
“Thanks, Baxter,” Candace said. “I think my mom will be next and—”
“And here she is,” JeanBeth said, with Lon walking in right behind her. She went to Candace and hugged her tightly, kissing her on the cheek and then doing the same to Marco. She offered a solemn handshake to Dev as they made the introductions.
Lon nodded at the group and immediately went to the corner facing the door so he had sight lines for any newcomers. Old habits died hard, or not at all, Marco thought. He was positioned similarly and so was Dev. What was it like for civilians who didn’t consider who might be ambushing them from behind? He figured he�
�d never know.
Ridley didn’t waste a moment. “So? Heard from Long Beach PD that Rico almost had you. Are you ready to talk about a safe house now?”
“Already got one,” Marco said.
“You were almost taken out by Rico on a public street. You need cops.”
Marco bridled. “I thought we had them. Where were you? We informed you of our route and the timing. Did you even send an officer out or were we too low a priority?”
Ridley glowered. “We did send units, but they didn’t get there in time. We needed more notice.”
“Yeah, great protection, and by the way, I’m wondering how Rico’s guys knew when we were going to show up at the courthouse in the first place,” Marco snapped.
Ridley’s eyes narrowed to angry slits. “They must have followed you from your safe house.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“What are you insinuating, Quidel?”
“Just wondering, like I said.”
“That’s not wondering, it’s accusing. You think we have a leak on our end? Not likely. Maybe it was one of your boys, here.”
“It wasn’t,” Marco said.
JeanBeth held up a hand. “Let’s keep this civil. Rico is the enemy. Marco and his men are filling the gaps because we know you have limited time and police resources. What happened today is proof of that. I don’t blame you—you have a population to protect. Marco, Dev and Lon can be more focused.”
Ridley spoke through his teeth. “If we had her at a safe house, we could take care of her just fine.”
“I’m okay,” Candace said.
“For how long?” Ridley shot a glance at Marco. “I can see I’m wasting my time here.” He turned to Candace. “Call me when you realize what you’re up against.”
Candace’s eyes flashed. “Believe me, I realize that better than anyone in this room. It’s my life and my daughter’s on the line here.”
“Exactly why you need police protection.”
She stared in silence for a moment. “Thank you. We’re going to keep the status quo for now.”
“All right,” Ridley said. “Maybe the next attack will convince you, if you survive it.” He stalked out.
“That went well,” Dev said, stroking his beard. “See why I don’t like talking to cops?” He put a finger to his temple. “I’ve got a throbbing right here.”
“So what do we do now?” Dan asked. “Aside from keeping Candace and Tracy safe.”
“We go on offense,” Marco said.
Dan frowned. “How?”
“Put some pressure on Rico. Find a way to bring him down or at least distract him until the trial’s over and Tooley is put away. Then there’s no reason for Rico to continue his harassment,” Marco said. “But that’s going to be up to me.”
“Us,” Dev corrected. He got a silent nod from Lon.
“Don’t you mean all of us?” Candace demanded.
“Not going to involve...” He almost said “civilians.” Don’t forget that’s what you are now, Marco. Not wearing that trident anymore. Funny how being in the battle over Candace’s safety kicked his navy identity to life. “I’ll take care of that part. I just need information.”
“No, we’ll take care of it,” Candace said. The flash in her eyes told him she was not going to back down.
“Too dangerous,” he replied.
“We are private investigators,” Candace said. “That means we don’t just work on the safe cases, such as lost dogs and pilfered bingo money.”
Angela nodded. “We did everything we could when Sarah was kidnapped, and all of you didn’t shy away when Dan and I were in trouble in Cobalt Cove. We’re in it to win it, as Dan would say.”
The doctor stood and wrapped his arm around her again. “Well said. Normally I use that on the field when my softball team is playing, but it seems appropriate for this occasion, too.”
Marco could see he wasn’t going to win at that moment. Best to stall.
“We’ll talk about it later. For now, we just need a starting point.”
“Corner of Fourth and Main, in Brighton, just outside Long Beach.”
They all turned to stare at Lon.
“Wow. He does talk,” Dan said. “I wasn’t sure.”
“What’s at the corner of Fourth and Main?” Candace asked.
“Chop shop. Moves around, but my guy said it’s there now,” Lon said. “We could do some surveillance, feed it to the cops. Put the pressure on.”
And that was all Lon had to say on the subject. He resumed his slouching position and fell silent again.
Surveillance should be marginally safe if Marco could keep the Gallaghers at a reasonable distance.
“Okay,” he said. “We’ll do that part together. Who’s in?” To his pride and dismay, each and every person put a hand into the air.
TEN
Candace fumed and fretted, but there was no getting Marco to budge. She was not going to be up close to the action.
“I don’t want you going along at all,” Marco said. “It’s not smart. You’re the target, and I’m not letting you waltz up to Rico’s place of business. That’s just asking for disaster.”
“I’m not going to get left behind minding the office,” she said, louder than she should have. “This is my problem, remember? I will not cower. You may be a navy SEAL, but I’m a marine wife and we’re tough as they come.”
That had rendered him speechless for a few moments until he turned away grumbling, but not retreating from his position. Marco would stick to what he felt was right no matter how she railed and ranted.
She thought about Rick and how he had never backed down from a fight, either. In the present situation, he would have encouraged her, she told herself, but a niggling feeling persisted that Rick might have had similar objections to Marco’s. But you’re not here, Rick, so I’m doing the best I can to be a role model for Tracy.
The best she could do was secure a place in the car with Dan and Angela, who would park a block away, watch the video feed on their laptop and alert Marco if anyone approached. Lon and JeanBeth would be positioned in the other direction, ready to call the cops if there was any sign of trouble.
Marco drove Lon’s Jeep, with Dev riding shotgun. They took off for Brighton just after sunset at seven o’clock. Candace called Tracy on the way. She was just digging into a bowl of Neapolitan ice cream.
“So late?” Candace said. “And it’s not even dessert night.”
“Uncle Brent said when he’s on duty I can eat all the ice cream I want.” She coughed. “I have a sore throat and the cold feels good.”
“Hmm. I’m going to have a talk with your uncle Brent when I get back. How bad is your sore throat?”
“Bad. When are you coming home?”
She smiled. “Why? Do you miss me or are you just trying to figure out how much ice cream you can pack away before I get back?”
Tracy went uncharacteristically silent. Candace’s mother radar activated.
“Honey, what’s wrong?”
Another extended pause. “I was listening to Uncle Brent talking on the phone. I know you told me not to do that, but I can’t turn my ears off sometimes.”
Candace knew what was coming. “I see. So you overheard him?”
“Uh-huh. He didn’t know I was listening. He said there was shooting.”
“It’s okay. No one was hurt. We were very careful.”
“But...but Daddy was careful—you said so. And he got shot, didn’t he?”
Pain rippled through Candace to her core. “Yes, Daddy was careful, but that was different. He was in a war.”
“There’s people shooting. How’s it different?”
How indeed? She felt desperate to ease Tracy’s fears. “Lis
ten, baby, Mommy is fine. Uncle Marco and his friend kept me safe. Not a scratch on me.”
Her daughter let out a whoosh of air. “I knew it. Nothing can hurt you when Unco is around, right?”
Candace felt the words dry up in her mouth. Tracy idolized Marco. Marco, not Rick, not her own father. She’d elevated him to superhero status. How had Candace not noticed it before? She recalled Rick galloping around the yard with a squealing Tracy on his shoulders, yelling, “Charge!” He should be Tracy’s hero.
She realized the silence had gone on too long. “Like I said, I’m okay. I will be home in a few hours. Remember to brush your teeth and say your prayers before you go to bed, and tell Auntie Donna if you start to feel real sick, okay?”
“Okay. I love you, Mommy.”
There were no sweeter words in any language than those four.
“I love you, too,” she said, her throat thick.
She disconnected, and Angela turned around in the front seat and blew her a kiss. Her sister had no doubt caught the emotion throbbing in her words. Angela was like that. It was what made her a spectacular chaplain. And now she was starting a new life with Dan. Candace felt gratefulness and a tiny pang of envy at the love that was so obvious between the two.
Lord, she prayed silently, help me to keep Rick alive in Tracy’s heart. She resolved to do a better job when the whole mess was over. Tracy was scheduled to visit Rick’s parents in San Diego for part of her Thanksgiving break. Candace made a mental note to ask Rick’s mom to get out some photo albums to help bring Rick’s memory to life for his daughter.
Marco’s voice rumbled through their laptop speaker. “Checking the feed.”
A video blinked to life on the laptop screen Angela held. Marco’s face swam in front of the camera, his hair covered by a knit cap, the black of his clothes blending into the night. He wore eye protection and gloves.
Dev, who wore the camera, provided them a good shot of the building. It was a two-story, run-down affair. Corroded metal siding covered the walls and stout bars crisscrossed the windows. The front lot was filled with piles of junk and strewn with rusted car parts.
“How come there are no lights showing?” Candace said.