by Rebecca Deel
He remained silent a moment. Ethan felt her questioning gaze study him. How did he tell her about his family, so different from hers? Borrowing his father’s shirt or socks should have been a family joke as he grew older, bigger. By the time he’d grown large enough to need men’s clothes, his father was dead.
“Ethan?” Serena’s soft voice carried a hint of uncertainty. “Did I say something wrong?”
He reached over the seat and grasped her hand. “You didn’t offend me, Serena. I just didn’t have the same kind of childhood you did.” Ethan drew in a deep breath and forced his tense muscles to relax.
“Tell me about it.”
Ethan hesitated. “It’s not pretty.”
A gentle smile curved her lips. “You lived it, Ethan. I can survive listening to it if you want to tell me.”
“I was an only child, born to a white woman and a Cherokee man. We lived in the Qualla Boundary.” His gaze met hers. “You probably know it as the Cherokee Reservation in Cherokee, North Carolina.”
“How did your parents meet?” Serena twisted in her seat to face him.
“My mother rented property from the Cherokee to operate her own deli. My father ate lunch at her store and watched the pretty owner. He timed his arrivals to coincide with the end of the tourist lunch rush so he could talk to her.”
“They fell in love?”
He grimaced. “Didn’t seem to be enough. Mother wanted to visit her family in Florida, but my father refused to leave the tribe, even for a vacation.”
“Why not?”
“Fierce pride in his Cherokee heritage.”
“Your mother was Ruth’s sister?”
Ethan nodded. “Ten years passed. Mother showed me so many pictures of the ocean that I begged to see it. When she grew homesick, she decided to take me to visit her family without my father.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “At the last minute, he refused to let me leave the rez.”
“Ethan, if this is too painful, you don’t have to tell me any more.” She threaded her fingers through his.
He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “She never came back. We found out months later Mother had been killed in a traffic accident in Jacksonville.”
“Oh, Ethan, I’m sorry. How old were you?”
“Nine,” he said. “My father felt guilty for not protecting Mother by either going with her or forbidding her to leave. He drowned the pain in alcohol and gambling.”
“And you shouldered the blame for your mother’s death and overcompensated by becoming everybody’s protector.” She squeezed his fingers. “Ethan, people have a free will. You can’t blame yourself for things out of your control.”
Stunned, Ethan glanced at her. How had she known the deep guilt he never voiced? He thought about his mother’s desire to visit family. Serena was right. If his mother was determined enough to leave without him, then his desire to see the ocean had been a small consideration in her decision.
“How did you come to live with Ruth?”
He forced himself to focus, lasso his emotions. “My father left the rez, searching for casinos that didn’t hold his markers. We ended up in Las Vegas.” His stomach knotted at the flood of memories. “My father was a mean drunk and a lousy gambler. One night in the summer I turned 13, he ran out of luck. A couple casino thugs beat him to death. When I tried to help him, they turned on me.”
Serena tightened her grip on his hand. “What happened?”
“They left me for dead in an alley behind a hotel.”
She shuddered. “But you were just a kid. How could they do that?”
“No witnesses, no conviction.” He smiled at her. “The hotel manager found me in the alley and helped me into the Palm Hotel.”
Serena’s eyes widened. “The Palm Hotel? Uncle Mike’s hotel?”
Ethan stilled. “Uncle Mike? Your uncle was the hotel manager?” He remembered the little blonde-haired elf with huge blue eyes and Serena’s earlier comments about spending summers in Las Vegas. “You were in that alley, weren’t you?” His voice thickened. “You brushed the hair from my forehead and patted my hand until the ambulance came. I remember you crying.”
“I wanted to go with you to the hospital.” Her voice quivered. “I told Uncle Mike you needed me.”
Ethan almost laughed aloud. His little blonde elf had been right all those years ago. He did need her. “Your uncle went with me to the hospital and located Aunt Ruth.” A small smile crept onto his lips. “When she arrived in Las Vegas, she scoured the city for those men. She harassed the police until they solved the case. The men who killed my father died in prison.”
#
Tears pooled in Serena’s eyes. She fumbled in her purse for a tissue.
“I didn’t intend to make you cry, baby.”
The tears spilled over. “Can’t help it, Ethan. You are such a miracle. I cried every night for weeks thinking about what those men did to you. After we returned here, I begged my father to call Uncle Mike and find out how you were.” She blotted her wet face. “You made quite an impression on me.”
“But you were just a kid!”
“I was seven years old, but I never forgot you, Ethan.”
Ethan said nothing, but raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.
Within minutes, the Pot o’ Gold came into sight. She’d be glad to see the hotel in the rearview mirror tonight. The place made her feel queasy.
“Serena,” Ethan said, parking in a brightly lit space, “whatever happens tonight, don’t wander off without me.”
Don’t wander off? Serena turned her head and stared at him. What hadn’t he told her this time? “Is there a reason for the restriction?”
“The Fox will be here tonight.”
Despite the shudder of fear traveling down her body, she grinned. “I knew you’d figure out The Fox’s identity. Are you going to tell me his name?”
“No.” Ethan’s lips curved. “You said it yourself, sweetheart. You’re a terrible liar. Your beautiful face is too expressive.”
“Feels like rubbing sandpaper on sore fingers to admit it, but you’re right.” She unbuckled her seatbelt. “So, what’s the game plan tonight since we’re Siamese twins?”
Ethan got out and opened her door before answering her question. “I get to be the jealous, overprotective boyfriend guarding his beautiful lady.”
Hmm. She liked his part. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what’s my role?”
He smiled and offered her his arm. “You’re my love-struck girlfriend.”
Serena laughed as they approached the hotel entrance. “That won’t be hard. This night might be enjoyable after all.”
#
The hotel wait staff scurried around the Irish Room, filling water glasses, checking place settings and lighting candles. Ethan glanced at his watch. Ten minutes before the doors opened to guests now milling around the wet bar in the hallway.
He stood, back to the wall, while Serena coaxed the reluctant chef to the kitchen. The man groused with each step about straining tea leaves.
Ethan’s gaze lingered on Serena. His blonde elf. He never thought he’d see her again. Yet in a matter of days, he had fallen in love with her. Her response to his troubled past left him speechless. No one ever cried for weeks because he’d been hurt or called him a miracle. His lips curved. Most of the names he’d been called he wouldn’t repeat. Serena’s interest in a half-breed cop mystified him.
Serena darted through the doorway and hurried to his side. “We’re ready to open the doors, Ethan. Any particular place you’d prefer to sit?”
“I want my back to the wall, facing the doors, with you on my left side.”
Serena scanned the circular tables and walked to the corner table in the back. “Will this work?”
“Perfect.” Ethan smiled. He’d already selected that table as the best defensible position.
Serena signaled the waiters to open the doors and the Otter Creek and Dunlap County dignitaries surged into the room,
drinks in hand. Amused, Ethan watched as they maneuvered for advantageous positions at various tables.
Aaron and Liz Cahill waded into the middle of the crowd. They greeted friends and business acquaintances with the polish of politicians on the campaign trail. Aaron looked up and saluted, then turned his attention to the group surrounding them.
Ethan hung back against the wall. Pools of people gathered around the banquet room, each group dominated by one or two people. The others nodded and smiled in response to whatever comments the leader spouted. His lip curled. Political posturing.
One of the dominators left the lackey pool and headed in his direction. Ethan waited, unmoving.
Mayor Parks stopped in front of Ethan, his stare icy. “You have until 8:00 tomorrow morning to turn in your report or your resignation. Your choice.”
Ethan caught Serena’s stunned expression out of the corner of his eye. “You want to inform the FBI of your deadline or shall I?”
“Last chance, Blackhawk,” he snapped and strode away.
Frank Stephens entered the banquet room, Mitch Harrington following in his wake. Ethan’s eyes narrowed. He hoped Jordan got what he needed on tape soon. The agent manned the listening post, monitoring the bug planted at the head table.
Stephens spotted Serena and smiled. He said something to Harrington, then weaved through the crowd toward them.
“Ethan, what’s going on with the mayor?”
“I’ll explain later.” Ethan took Serena’s hand in his. “Time to go to work, baby.”
She smiled at him. “Anything you say, sweetheart.” Laughter danced in her eyes.
Ethan chuckled. “I’ll remind you of that later, little minx.”
“Serena, everything’s ready?” Stephens rubbed his hands together. He glanced at Ethan, then at their hands linked. His smile faltered.
“Yes, sir, we’re ready. This is Ethan Blackhawk, Mr. Stephens.”
Stephens’s face paled. “Blackhawk?” He shifted his gaze between Serena and Ethan. “Otter Creek’s Chief of Police? Why are you here with him? I thought you were with Mitch.”
“Serena is mine,” Ethan said, his voice flat.
The hotel owner’s eyes narrowed. “I see. Good to meet you, Blackhawk. I should see to my guests.” Stephens shook hands with a couple men nearby, tossing speculative glances over his shoulder at Ethan.
“Nice growl,” Serena said. She kept her eyes on the flow of people.
“He’s going over to Harrington.” Satisfaction flooded his gut. “He’ll probably tell old Mitch I’m staking my claim.”
“Mitch may cause trouble, Ethan.”
“I’m counting on it.”
The tables filled, leaving empty space at Serena and Ethan’s table. Serena motioned to the bluegrass band. Banjo music filled the room. Waiters and waitresses carried in trays loaded with salads.
Throughout the meal, Ethan noticed Harrington and Stephens whispering. He hoped the FBI bug picked up their conversation in spite of the background noise.
Near the end of dessert, Stephens stood behind the podium and addressed the crowd. While he spoke, Harrington slipped away from the head table. Ethan’s gaze followed The Fox, his body on alert.
Ethan’s cell phone vibrated. He pulled out his cell and moved to the alcove a few feet away, keeping Serena in his line of sight. “Blackhawk.”
“It’s Rod. Parrish just called. Las Vegas PD found the real Mitch Harrington’s body in the basement freezer at his home.”
Harrington slid into the vacant seat beside Serena. Ethan shifted his body and balanced on the balls of his feet so he could be mobile in an instant. “Any word yet from Jordan?”
“Negative,” Rod answered.
“Call him. Tell him he’s running out of time.” Ethan clicked the off button and slipped his phone into his pocket. He waited in the alcove. Would The Fox tip his hand?
Harrington whispered something in Serena’s ear. She shook her head, her gaze fixed on Stephens who thanked the hotel’s supporters from the community.
The reporter’s face twisted in anger. He grabbed Serena’s arm and tried to pull her out of her chair. Ethan moved toward them. Aaron Cahill, sitting nearby, started to rise. Ethan warned him off with a quick shake of his head.
Serena jerked her arm out of Harrington’s grasp and grabbed her full glass of iced tea. She dumped the contents in his lap as applause broke out at the conclusion of Stephens’ remarks.
Harrington jumped up and brushed at his pants with a napkin. His face flushed, he threw the napkin on the table and left.
Ethan laid his hand on Serena’s shoulder. “You all right?” He watched the door close behind Harrington.
“I’m fine. The man’s an idiot.”
He knelt beside her and pushed up her sleeve. Red splotches marked Serena’s arm where Harrington had grabbed her. Ethan’s anger moved from simmer to boiling in one breath. He grabbed ice cubes from his empty glass and wrapped them in a napkin.
“What are you doing?” Serena asked.
“Taking care of my girl.” He laid the wrapped ice on her arm and held it there. “What did he say to you?”
She tensed under his hands. “Nothing important.”
He looked into her distressed gaze. “Your reaction says otherwise. I need you to tell me the truth.”
“Mitch asked me to go to the lobby with him. He wanted to talk about what happened on Overlook Point, to apologize again.” Serena’s free hand caressed his jaw. “He became angry when I refused.”
“What else, Serena?” Ethan pressed a kiss into her palm, his gaze locked on her face.
She let her hand and her gaze drop. “He told me I shouldn’t date you.”
Serena still danced around the truth, trying to protect him in her own way. Ethan didn’t say anything for a moment. Did she care that much for him? Man, did he dare hope? He dragged in a ragged breath and yanked his concentration back to the matter at hand. “I have to know his exact words, baby.” It might give him a clue how to corner The Fox.
She lifted her chin, lips pressed into a straight line. “He said I was degrading myself by getting involved with a half-breed savage.”
Ethan’s mouth twitched. “And you defended my honor with a glass of iced tea? Try a pot of hot coffee next time.”
Serena’s mouth gaped. “You think this is funny? Mitch’s comment was vile and ugly.”
He grinned. “Baby, I’ve been called a lot worse.”
Aaron Cahill knelt beside his daughter. “Are you okay, honey?”
“I’m fine, Dad. Don’t worry.”
He lifted the napkin, examined her arm, and repositioned the homemade ice pack. He turned his grim face toward Ethan. “When you called me this afternoon, I took you at your word. You promised that my daughter wouldn’t be hurt. How much longer before you make an arrest?”
Liz walked up behind Serena and slipped her arms around her daughter’s neck. Though she remained silent, she looked furious.
“As soon as the FBI has enough evidence,” Ethan said. “He’s under constant surveillance, Mr. Cahill. He can’t sneeze without us knowing.”
Her father’s eyes flashed. “You better be close enough to hand him a handkerchief.”
Liz straightened. “If any harm comes to Serena while she’s in your care, you will answer to me.”
Serena gasped. “Mom!”
Ethan nodded. “I won’t let anything happen to her. You have my word.”
Aaron stood and extended his hand to Liz. “We’ll be waiting for your call.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into them.” Serena turned to him. “They had no right to talk to you that way.”
Under the circumstances, Ethan figured he’d gotten off easy. Now he knew why Josh steered clear of his switch-bearing mother. “They had every right, Serena. They love you and I’m asking them to trust me with your life.”
He removed the ice and checked her arm. Satisfied, he said, “T
hat should take away some of the bruising.” He scanned the fast-emptying banquet room. “You finished with your responsibilities here?”
Serena nodded.
He tossed the ice pack on the table. “Let’s get out of here.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Ethan dialed Jordan. “Where is he?” He cranked his SUV and drove from the parking lot. His stomach twisted in the elongated silence. “Jordan?”
“I don’t know. We lost him after he left the banquet room. He ducked into the back stairwell and disappeared.”
His grip tightened around the phone. “You have enough evidence?”
“Yes. The Fox and Stephens got into a heated argument in Stephens’ office. Stephens is desperate to get that drive and destroy the evidence. The mob’s riding The Fox hard. He now has orders to kill anyone standing in his way. They don’t want to lose the money-laundering operation in either state.”
“Serena’s safety is my priority now. I’ll do whatever is necessary to protect her.”
“I understand.”
Ethan ended his call. “The Feds lost track of The Fox.”
“Who is The Fox? Can you tell me now?”
Ethan reached across the seat and, with a light touch, ran his finger down her bruised arm.
“Mitch.” Serena leaned her head against the headrest. “How could I have been so stupid? Why didn’t I file assault charges against him? Maybe George Miller would still be alive.”
“We don’t know that, can’t know that. We didn’t find anything out of the ordinary when we ran the first check on Harrington. He would have been back on the streets within hours. Filing the assault charge may have given Miller another day, but you would have been a target sooner.
“When Miller mailed himself that flash drive, he knew the price he’d pay. I should have placed him in protective custody. Miller signed his death warrant by keeping silent. If he’d confided in me, he might still be alive. But that’s not how it went down. We can’t undo the past.”
“But I dragged you and Ruth into the path of a killer.” Her voice broke. “Ethan, I’m so sorry.”