by B. J Daniels
Oh, dear God. Jesse could be right. Frank Pickett could have Susannah.
The thought poleaxed her. What in God’s name had he done with Susannah, a baby born of mobsters’ children?
Jesse startled her from her dark thoughts as he leapt back into the van. He turned down a small dirt lane bordered by thick-leafed trees, the headlights cutting a swath through the darkness.
“It’s just up the road a half mile,” he said. “I want you to stay in the van. If Susannah’s there, I’ll get her and bring her to you. Amanda, are you listening to me?”
He glanced over at her and must have recognized the look on her face. He swore.
“Don’t try to stop me, Jesse,” she said softly.
He swore again. “Then stay behind me and do as I say.”
She nodded. He had to know by now that she would move heaven and earth to just hold her baby in her arms again.
* * *
JESSE STOPPED the van in the middle of the narrow lane, blocking the road should anyone try to leave the cabin. Through the trees, he could see a light in the distance. Quietly he opened the van door and slipped out, closing it silently behind him. Amanda did the same.
They made their way through the darkness of the woods, following the flickering light spilling from the cabin. As they drew closer, Jesse could hear voices. The only weapon he had was the piece of pipe he’d taken from Amanda on the bridge. It was stuck up the sleeve of his jacket.
He inched closer, Amanda right behind him. He could hear Molly’s voice, a thin whine, and a deeper voice, raised in anger.
“Go around to the back, but don’t go in until I tell you,” he ordered.
She nodded, that look in her eyes that told him she would do whatever she had to do.
He swore under his breath as he watched her retreat along the side of the small cabin wall until she disappeared into the darkness.
Then carefully, he rose and peeked in the window. Through a crack in the blinds he could see Frank. The man was pacing back and forth. Behind him, Jesse saw something that made his heart leap. A baby. Susannah lay on the couch wedged between two pillows. Her tiny legs and arms flailed the air. Thank God, she was all right.
Molly sat in a chair opposite the couch, wringing her hands, talking softly to Frank.
Keeping low, Jesse moved to the front door, reached up and cautiously tried the knob. It turned in his hand. The door wasn’t locked. He hoped to surprise Frank. Catch him off guard. And hoped that Frank didn’t have a weapon in his hand at the time.
Rising, he quietly opened the door a crack. He could hear them now.
“Frank, please listen to me,” Molly was saying.
“Everything’s going to be all right now Molly,” said the large man with graying dark hair. He stood over Susannah. “Someday little Roxie and I will go fishing together.” Frank moved over by the baby and reached down to touch one perfect little hand. “My little Roxie.”
Jesse would have gone in then but as Frank turned, Jesse saw the gun in the man’s other hand.
“That’s not Roxie,” Molly said crying. “That’s not your little girl.”
Frank’s face seemed to cloud. He jerked his hand back. “You’re right. That’s the spawn of that mobster. I thought I got rid of that baby.” He sounded confused, near tears. “I thought I got rid of him.”
“Oh, Frank,” Molly wailed. “Please, let’s take this baby back where you got it. Don’t do this.”
“It’s too late, Molly,” Frank said. “My Roxie killed herself because of that mobster. You know it’s true. He did that to her. Made her pregnant. She couldn’t bear it.”
“You’re wrong, Frank,” Molly said.
Susannah began to cry, a few little yelps, then a steady wail. Jesse swore, knowing Amanda too well. He put his shoulder against the door, praying he could time it right.
* * *
AMANDA HEARD her baby cry, a primal call that reverberated through her body. She’d already tried the back door. It was locked. She’d moved to one of the windows and found she couldn’t get it unstuck. Now, she hurried to another window. It was partially open. She shoved it up enough that she could squeeze through.
She dropped into a large clawfoot bathtub and stood for a moment, listening. Susannah’s cries clutched at her heart. She could hear voices. A man’s. And Molly’s.
“I saw the heart, Frank,” Molly was saying.
“He had that heart Roxie always wore.”
“Got it from that damned mobster,” Frank said, sounding angry. “That J. B. Crowe. Humanitarian, like hell.”
“No, Frank,” Molly said. “It wasn’t him. I never told you because you didn’t like any of the boys that came ’round, but it wasn’t that one. It was the other boy. Billy. Billy Kincaid. I saw her with him once.”
“Don’t do this to me, woman,” Frank warned.
“Oh, Frank, how could you have left Roxie’s baby beside some road in a box? How could you have lied to me all these years? How could you have done something like this? Why now, Frank? Why now?”
“This isn’t the first time, Molly,” Frank said.
“You think I would wait this long to get back at that monster? I almost got the other baby twenty-five years ago.”
Amanda couldn’t stand it any longer. She jerked open the bathroom door, praying that she could distract Frank Pickett enough that Jesse could get to Frank.
She saw the large, graying man standing over her baby. She didn’t notice the gun or the woman sitting in the corner of the room crying. She rushed to her baby and scooped Susannah up into her arms before the man could react.
* * *
JESSE PUT HIS shoulder against the front door and burst into the room just seconds after Amanda. But it was already too late.
Frank was bringing the gun up, the barrel pointed at Amanda and the baby.
“No!” Jesse cried as he tried to get to Frank before he could pull the trigger.
It all happened so quickly. Molly trying to stop Frank, throwing herself out of the chair and at him. The sound of the gunshot, Molly being thrown to the floor, the sound of her head hitting the edge of the log coffee table, then silence.
At first Jesse thought Amanda had been shot. There was blood everywhere and Amanda was on her knees beside Molly, Susannah cradled in one arm, her hand on Molly’s cheek.
Jesse caught Frank with a left hook and dropped the man, twisting the gun from the kidnapper’s hand before he hit the floor beside his wife. Molly was on the floor lying in a pool of blood, her eyes open, her life gone.
Jesse rushed to Amanda and Susannah, seeing at once that both were fine. He shook his head at Amanda’s hopeful look. Molly was dead.
He helped Amanda to her feet. She clutched Susannah in her arms. The baby had quit crying. She cooed up at her mother, kicking her tiny legs and flailing her arms. The look on Amanda’s face as she gazed down at her baby almost dropped Jesse to his knees. He looked at mother and daughter, his heart bursting. Finally, Susannah was safe in her mother’s arms. At least for the moment.
“Molly?” Frank said as he laid his head on her body. “It’s going to be all right, now, Molly. Everything is going to be just fine. Tomorrow I’ll take you and Roxie fishing. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
In the wee hours of the morning, the ambulance finally pulled away, the siren a low, mournful moan dying away in the distance.
“Frank has confessed everything,” Sheriff Wilson told Jesse. “You’re both free to go.”
Jesse glanced to the van where Amanda lay curled in the back, her baby beside her, both having fallen into an exhausted sleep. Frank was under arrest. Molly was dead.
“Frank was never the same after Roxie killed herself,” a neighboring cabin owner kept saying.
“He was just never the same.”
When the sheriff finally said he could go, Jesse got into the van and drove south. He called his boss on Amanda’s cell phone and filled him in on everyt
hing that had happened, knowing he was going to catch hell over the decisions he had made. At one point, Jesse had held in his hands evidence against J. B. Crowe, something his boss wasn’t likely to forget. Nor was Jesse likely to forget that his boss was the only one who had known he and Amanda had gone to Red River. Amanda didn’t wake until he’d almost reached Dallas. With Susannah secured in the car seat she had packed in the back, she planted a kiss on the sleeping baby’s cheek before slipping into the passenger seat next to him.
He could tell how hard it was to let Susannah out of her arms. What had ever made him think she didn’t love her baby? Could have abandoned Susannah? Or pretended the infant had been kidnapped, using Susannah as Gage had?
“Where are we?” Amanda asked, glancing around.
“Almost to Dallas.”
Her eyebrow shot up.
“I can’t let you leave the country,” he said hurriedly. He could feel her gaze on him.
“Can’t? Or won’t?” she asked.
“Can’t,” he said as he pulled over in the shade of a large tree alongside a city park. The sun was coming up, big and bright. It was going to be another hot one in this part of Texas.
He cut the engine and turned in his seat. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot.”
“Yes?” she asked and waited.
His heart pounded with just the thought of what he wanted to say. Words he’d never uttered to another woman. But they seemed right. And yet, only a fool wouldn’t realize the danger in what he was about to propose.
“Amanda,” he said, taking her hand in his. “I can’t let you go off alone with Susannah. You won’t be safe. No matter where you run, either your father or Mickie Ferraro and his henchmen or someone else with a grudge against your father will be looking for you. There is only one place I can think of that you and Susannah would be safe. And that’s with me.”
* * *
AMANDA HELD her breath, her gaze locked to his. He wanted to come with them. Was it possible he would give up being a cop to protect her and Susannah? She could feel her heart banging in her chest. For the first time in her life, she knew exactly what she wanted. This man. A family for Susannah. A normal life. She wasn’t sure what that would entail—let alone how to get one—but she had the feeling that with Jesse, anything was possible. As long as he’d go with her and Susannah.
“With you?” she managed to ask.
And the next thing she knew, she was in his arms. His mouth found hers, his kiss soft and sweet and full of promise. He kissed her deeply, passionately, as if this morning was all they had. Then he drew back and gazed into her eyes, making her melt inside.
“I love you, Amanda. I want to marry you.”
His words filled her, as satisfying as any she’d ever heard. “Oh, Jesse, my love.” She hugged him tightly. “Oh, yes, I knew you’d come with us. We can go to Europe. Or maybe—”
He pulled back abruptly, his eyes dark, a frown furrowing his brows. “No, Amanda.”
She stared at him, uncomprehending. Hadn’t he just told her he loved her? Hadn’t he just asked her to marry him?
“We can’t run all our lives,” he said. “What kind of life would that be for Susannah? For us?”
“What are you saying?” she managed to ask.
“We stay here.”
She gaped at him. “Are you mad?” Finally, she’d met the man of her dreams and he was stark raving crazy.
“It’s the only way,” he said grabbing her upper arms, forcing her to face him. “Listen to me. I’ve thought about this. I’ve thought about nothing else since we made love. I’ve been crazy for you since the first time I laid eyes on you. But these past few days, I’ve fallen in love with you. I can’t imagine life without you.”
“But Jesse—”
He put a finger to her lips. “Sweetheart, running away won’t help. Your father would find us. Or Mickie. Amanda, we need your father’s protection.”
“Now I know you’ve lost your mind,” she cried. “You aren’t suggesting—”
“Your father loves you, Amanda. He loves his granddaughter. I think you realize now that he wouldn’t harm you or Susannah. I’m not saying you can change him. Or change his past. I’m not saying eventually he won’t go to prison for some of the things he’s done. But I believe he will try to be a better man for the two of you and for right now, that’s enough.”
“He would never allow me to marry a cop,” she said emphatically.
Jesse grinned. “There’s only one way to find out.”
“He’ll kill you!” she cried.
“His future son-in-law? I don’t think so. You forget, I’m Billy Kincaid’s son and J.B. knows it.”
She cupped his wonderfully handsome face in her hands. “Do you really believe it’s possible that we could have a normal life?” Yet even as she asked the question, she knew it just might be. For that, she would do anything. Even go back to her father’s.
“Well?” Jesse asked. “I promise it’s only temporary.”
She pulled his face to her and kissed him lightly on the mouth. “You make me believe anything is possible.”
* * *
POSSIBLE OR NOT, it was the only option Jesse could come up with. They couldn’t run. J.B.’s resources were too far-reaching. And as far as Jesse knew, Mickie Ferraro still hadn’t given up trying to kill Amanda. J.B. could make sure that Mickie was stopped. The Crowe compound could be a temporary sanctuary. Or the lion’s den, Jesse thought as he neared the gate.
Jesse didn’t believe for a minute that J. B. Crowe could change. Or would want to. Not for all the love in the world. Not even for his daughter’s. Or granddaughter’s.
But Jesse knew if he could get J.B.’s blessing, he would be able to protect Amanda from not only the mob—but from J.B. himself. As for Mickie Ferraro, if Jesse knew J.B., the mobster would take care of Mickie once and for all.
All Jesse knew was that he and Amanda and Susannah couldn’t run the rest of their lives. Nor could they ever hide from the mob. Their only hope was going inside.
He knew he was taking a hell of a chance, but he had Amanda and Susannah. And he was Billy Kincaid’s son. Jesse just hoped that was enough.
J.B. had placed a new guard at the gate now, a man Jesse had seen before, a man who’d seen him as well. The guard recognized Amanda immediately. His gaze went from her to Jesse, then to the back of the van where boxes and suitcases were piled high, to the seat where Susannah, now awake, smiled and laughed as if she’d already forgotten those few days in April 2001 that she’d been lost to her mother.
Excitedly, the guard called up to the main house on a cell phone, announced who was at the gate, then held the phone away from his ear. Jesse could hear J.B. yelling from where he sat.
“Yes, Mr. Crowe,” the guard said when he got the chance. The gate opened and the guard motioned them through hurriedly.
J.B. was standing outside when they drove up. Neither Death nor Destruction seemed to be around, but Jesse would bet they weren’t far off.
“Remember,” Jesse whispered. “He loves you.” But did J.B. love her enough to accept Jesse’s terms? That would be the question.
* * *
AMANDA NODDED and opened her door. She’d never seen her father scared. Nor had she ever seen him cry before. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly and she hugged him back. Jesse was right. J. B. Crowe was her father. Good or bad.
Amanda felt Jesse behind her. He’d gotten Susannah out of her car seat and now held her in his arms. He was looking down at Susannah’s little face and smiling in a way that made her heart purr.
Without a word, Jesse handed Crowe his granddaughter. J.B. took her, holding her awkwardly, and Amanda realized this was the first time he’d actually held Susannah. She stared at the pair, wondering just what the power of love could accomplish. Because in her father’s eyes she saw his love for her. For his granddaughter.
After a moment, she took her daughter from him. “There is a lot I need
to tell you,” she said.
“Yes,” her father agreed. He looked to Jesse.
“You know who he is, don’t you?” she asked.
“So it is true,” J.B. said. “You’re Billy’s son.”
Jesse nodded. “I’m in love with your daughter. And I’m a cop.”
J.B. nodded slowly. “I see. Perhaps we should step inside.”
EPILOGUE
It was to be the biggest wedding of the year, maybe of the century. J.B. Crowe had spared no expense. The guest list was huge and as varied as any wedding in history, from mobsters to cops to the governor himself. Even Olivia flew home from New York for the affair and to help with the hurried arrangements. Few people had ever been inside the Crowe compound. Most would never see it again.
But for one day, J.B. Crowe would open the doors and let the world in to see his only daughter marry the man she loved. The story had broken on page one of the Dallas papers and quickly spread across the country. Governor Kincaid’s Cop Nephew to Marry Mobster’s Daughter.
The story about Mickie Ferraro’s accidental drowning in White Lake got buried on a back page of the same day’s paper, but Jesse saw it and knew Ferraro’s death had been no accident. J.B., good to his word, had taken care of it. Just like he had the wedding.
Jesse had watched J.B. with his daughter and granddaughter, pleased with the mobster’s acting job. J.B. had seemingly convinced Amanda that he wanted to change. That he could change. She seemed deeply touched by her father’s acceptance of a cop into the family.
Jesse could tell that she also wanted to believe that J.B. really hadn’t had anything to do with Diana Kincaid’s disappearance. Or the black market baby ring. J.B. swore his men had been operating it independently of him and he would see that it was stopped at once.
“I want to change,” J.B. had told Amanda.
“You have to admit, letting a cop marry into the family is a start.”
Amanda had leaned up to give her father a kiss on his cheek, her eyes full of tears.
“I just want you and Susannah to be happy,” J.B. had said.