Reckless Angel

by Maggie Shayne

Make love. God, he wished she wouldn’t call it that. It hadn’t been that. He wasn’t stupid enough to have let it be that. He said the first thing that came to mind, realizing she expected some kind of answer. “Out here, like this, yeah. Insane. You’ll probably have pneumonia.”

  He turned toward her to see what she thought of that answer, and saw her sitting with her knees slightly bent, toes playing in the pine needles. Her breasts were already dotted with raindrops again. Nick closed his eyes. “Put your shirt on, Toni, you’ve got to be chilled through.”

  Frowning a little, she stood, shook out the shirt and slipped her arms into it. When she reached for her panties, he turned his back and busied himself replacing his own clothes. They were wet, which made it difficult, but he wasn’t about to march back to the house stark naked. The way he felt every time he looked at her, he’d never make it. When he turned again, she was watching him, a puzzled expression on her face.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Good question, Nick thought. No, nothing’s wrong; everything’s just the way it should be. Good ol’ gullible Nick has let himself care again, and sure as the sun will rise tomorrow, he’s going to get left high and dry again. Toni would walk away from him. One way or another she’d leave him. He had no one to blame but himself, because he’d known it would happen. He’d told himself not to feel anything for her. The problem was, his “self” hadn’t listened. The only thing left to do now was to prepare for the blow. He had a feeling it was going to be a tough one to take. Maybe too tough. Maybe this would be the one that brought him down.

  “Nick?”

  Her hand on his face sent a shaft of bleak pain through him. He nearly winced at the strength of it. The most he could hope for now, he realized, was a little damage control. He could only avoid total devastation by keeping his feelings for her from growing any stronger. He’d always been a man of action—never content to let anything slip beyond his ability to control it. He could do this, he told himself. He could keep this thing on a purely physical level. He could force his feelings for her to die quietly, before she had the chance to throw them back in his face. She couldn’t reject something she’d never been offered. Right?

  He cleared his throat and pushed the damp hair off his forehead. “We have to get back. It’ll be light soon.”

  He didn’t miss the slight sigh or the little shake of her head. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again without saying a word. She blinked twice in quick succession before she turned and started to walk away from him. When she put her foot down, he heard her suck air through her teeth. She didn’t stop, though. She kept going, despite the limp.

  He caught up to her. “Glass in your foot?”

  She only nodded, and Nick scooped her into his arms and strode toward the house. She weighed almost nothing.

  “Put me down, Nick. Your leg—”

  “Relax,” was his curt reply. He tried not to smell the scent of her hair drifting up to him or feel the curve of her hip against his groin. “Just relax.” His tone was gentler the second time, and she complied, linking her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder. Nick gave up trying not to notice her—the feel of her in his arms was too much not to notice. The pain in his thigh as he walked back through the woods was minor compared to the exquisite torture his Gypsy was dishing up.

  Chapter 9

  Toni slanted another sidelong glance at him. He sat behind the wheel, as stonily silent as he’d been for most of the day. His chiseled jaw didn’t move except for the occasional twitch. He’d been all business from the moment they’d returned to the hidden apartment. One hundred percent efficient, effective Federal Agent Manelli had taken over. The Nick she’d longed to know, the one she thought she’d finally uncovered, was gone.

  With military precision he’d supervised the packing of her things to erase any trace of her presence. He’d gathered a sparse few of his own, including, she noted, the jeans and the high-tops, the basketball and the photograph. He left every one of those stuffy suits behind.

  Meticulously he’d orchestrated her mother’s safe departure from the country, just the way he wanted to orchestrate her own. She’d come very close to losing that round.

  He stiffened in anticipation when another set of headlights broke through the darkness. The white beams moved eerily, pushing the shadows from outside the car into it and illuminating his taut face. They passed, and Toni heard his aggravated sigh. For over an hour they’d been parked here in the nearly empty concrete lot. The only other vehicles here were an abandoned ’75 Chevy and a stripped-down framework that might once have been a Corvette.

  “He should have been here by now.” The worry in his voice came through clearly, and Toni longed to comfort him. He’d been so distant since this morning, she wasn’t sure she knew how.

  She knew he was worried about Joey. That was part of the reason for his icy demeanor. Joey should have been here to meet with him at dusk. It was an arrangement they’d made months ago. If it got to the point where they both had to pull out in a hurry, they’d go their separate ways and meet in this crumbling parking lot at dark the next night. He’d told her that. He’d also told her about the drug shipment that had been confiscated the night he’d been shot, and his feeling that Taranto had expected the police raid. He thought Taranto suspected Joey. If he was right, then where was Joey now?

  Toni thought of the man’s gentle voice and his obvious worry about Nick, and she bit her lip. If Taranto had him—

  Nick glanced again at his watch. He shook his head and looked around the empty parking lot. Change the subject, Toni thought. Get him talking. At least the endless minutes of waiting would tick by a little faster.

  “Mom should be safely in her hotel in Toronto by now. It’s such a relief knowing she’s away from all this.”

  He looked at her, his eyes narrow, his temper short. “If you had half a brain, you’d be with her.”

  She shook her head. “I told you, Nick, I have just as much invested here as you do. I’m not walking away until I see it through. If you’d put me on the flight out, I’d have caught the next one right back here.”

  “So you’ve pointed out—repeatedly. It’s the only reason you’re here. I couldn’t risk you wandering around on your own. Lou would’ve had you in a matter of hours.”

  She rolled her eyes. “How did I ever manage without you? Must’ve been pure luck that I didn’t bungle my incompetent self into an early grave last year when I took on those drug lords south of the equator.”

  “I didn’t mean…” He shook his head and sighed loudly. “Okay. You’re good at this, all right? You’re just too damn gutsy for your own good. You rush headlong into situations that could be dangerous. That’s all I meant, not that you were incompetent.”

  She blinked and looked at him. “Gutsy?” She felt the frown come and go as she digested that. After a moment she shook her head quickly. “No, I’m a big coward. Katrina’s the gutsy one.” His gaze seemed surprised. “I could never do the things she does,” she said to try to explain.

  “Oh. Things like following Mafia associates into dark alleys in the middle of the night? Or maybe things like slapping a six-two alleged hit man who’s carrying a gun because he says something you don’t like?” He looked away from her face. “You’re no coward, lady. You wouldn’t be doing what you’ve been doing if you were.”

  “You have it all wrong.” She answered him quickly, the words tumbling out before she had a chance to think about them. “I do it because I’m a coward. I do it to make up for what I didn’t do before.”

  “Before?” His dark brows drew together as he regarded her in the dim interior of the car. “Before what?”

  She shrugged.

  “You’re talking about your father’s death, aren’t you? Toni, you can’t possibly blame yourself for that.”

  She couldn’t hold his gaze. She hadn’t understood until now the connection between her guilt over her father’s suicide and her need to fix
society’s ills in any way she could. She gazed through the window, seeing nothing. “I knew what was happening. I should have done something.”

  “You were still in high school. What could you have done?”

  “Something. Anything. I shouldn’t have let it go on so long. I shouldn’t have let him…” She stopped and tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

  “Shouldn’t have let him what?” Nick touched her arm, but Toni couldn’t answer him. “You couldn’t have changed what happened, Toni.”

  “I could. I knew when he left the house that day…it was in his eyes. I shouldn’t have let him go.”

  He was quiet for a long moment. Maybe he finally believed her, her mind whispered. Not that it mattered. She knew. She’d always known. When he took her chin in his hand and turned her to face him, she wished he’d just drop the subject.

  “You know what I think?” She shook her head, and he went on. “I think you feel so guilty about it that you want to be punished. I think that’s why you challenge death at every opportunity. Maybe you’re hoping it’ll beat you one of these times. Maybe you think, somewhere deep down in that pretty head of yours, that you don’t deserve to live when he didn’t.”

  In the dark, quiet car, Nick deftly opened the festering wound in her soul and let the infection begin to heal. Toni felt her lips tremble. She couldn’t speak. How could he see so clearly the truth she’d kept hidden from herself for such a long time? The accuracy of what he’d said was so clear to her all at once. Why hadn’t she seen it before?

  “It wasn’t your fault, Toni.” He watched the changes in her face for a moment. “Do you think your father would’ve wanted you to spend your life paying for his decision that day?”

  She shook her head. “No, but—”

  “You know how badly you’ve felt since he took his own life?” His arms suddenly encircled her shoulders. He brought her close to him, until she was held like a child. “That’s how badly your mother would feel if you followed his example, Toni. Do you want to be responsible for causing her that kind of pain?”

  She shook her head hard, moving it against his shoulder where it was cradled. “No! I never meant…I didn’t realize…” She released all her breath at once. She felt like crying. The huge burden she’d been bearing for so long suddenly grew lighter. It didn’t vanish; some of it remained. For the first time in a very long time, though, she thought she understood it. God. This changed the scope of her very existence! She felt free all of a sudden.

  She sat up slightly and studied his face in awed fascination. “You should have been a shrink. My God, how do you see so much?”

  He shrugged. One hand stroked a wisp of hair away from her face. “You are transparent to me, Gypsy. Don’t forget, we’ve been together constantly for the past week. I think I know you pretty well…except…”

  “Except what?”

  He released her and settled back in his seat. Toni settled back, too, but close enough so their bodies touched. “Did you ever want to do anything else?” he asked. “I mean, besides write tell-all books to clear your conscience?”

  She allowed a small smile. “I love to write and I’m good at it.”

  “I’ll let you know after I read the book,” he quipped.

  She smiled fully. Finally the easy, relaxed atmosphere between them had returned. “I had a plan, you know. A long time ago before I got so wrapped up in being a do-gooder.”

  He folded his arms, clasping his hands behind his head. “Tell me.”

  Toni closed her eyes and envisioned the life she’d allowed to exist only in her dreams. “Rural town,” she told him. “Not suburban, rural. I’m not even certain my road is paved. The house is a rambling old Victorian—white with black shutters and huge open porches. I have a big office in the back with a window that overlooks the enormous back lawn. There are yellow roses growing there and a flowering crab apple tree. I write wonderful books with happy endings. When I get tired of sitting at the computer, I walk the dog.”

  She didn’t need to look at him to know his brow shot up. “The dog?”

  “Um-hmm. He’s a huge gray-and-white sheepdog. He’s so shaggy I have to trim the hair around his eyes every few weeks so he can see. His name is Ralph. We walk together every day, down the path to the duck pond, and—”

  “This is one vivid plan,” he said slowly.

  “I’m a writer. I see details in everything.” Headlights approached once more, and Nick sat up straighter. This time they veered into the parking lot. The car drew nearer, pulled up alongside, and the driver’s window lowered slowly. The man sitting there was not Joey.

  Nick lowered his window. “Harry, what the hell’s going on?”

  The man in the other car met Nick’s gaze, all but ignoring Toni’s presence. “It isn’t good, Manelli. Joey’s dropped off the planet. No one’s been able to find a trace of him.”

  Nick flinched as if he’d been struck. The man in the other car kept on speaking. He glanced at Toni. “Her mother was not on that plane, Nick. We haven’t been able to locate her, either.”

  “Damn.”

  Toni shook her head rapidly. “No. It isn’t what you’re thinking. I know my mother. She probably just set her heels and decided she wasn’t leaving. When I talked to her earlier and explained the situation—” she swallowed and cleared her throat “—I should have known she agreed too easily. She’s stubborn as a mule sometimes.”

  “I hope you’re right,” the man called Harry said. He returned his attention to Nick. “Why’s she still with you, Manelli? You had orders—”

  “She would have come right back and become a target,” Nick snapped. “It was safer to keep her with me.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you two would stop talking as if I’m not here.” She looked at Nick, feeling a dark terror creep into her heart. If Taranto had her mother…

  “What do we do now, Nick?”

  Harry reworded her question and put it to Nick. “Do you have enough on Taranto to make an arrest stick?”

  Nick shook his head. “He paid me to kill Toni—but that’s no good because I don’t have enough to prove it and Toni isn’t dead. He sent me to witness Vinnie’s hit, but he never really confessed to that on tape. The man knows enough to talk in circles. He says all he needs to say without ever admitting a thing.” He looked down and shook his head.

  “What kind of evidence do you need?”

  Both men looked at Toni. “What have you got?”

  She eyed Nick for a moment. “I have photographs of Lou Taranto passing a large manila envelope to a man named Santos. Santos was later arrested in Colombia for murder.”

  “Right,” Harry interrupted. “Last year. He’d tampered with the plane that was supposed to carry Juan Perez to the U.S. to stand trial for drug trafficking. The plane crashed after takeoff. Perez died, along with the three DEA agents who were escorting him back.”

  “Juan Perez was Lou Taranto’s cocaine supplier in Colombia,” Nick said.

  Toni nodded. “That’s right. And if he’d made it here to stand trial, he might have been offered a deal in exchange for his testimony against Taranto. Santos took that envelope from Lou and left for Colombia within six hours. And when he got there, a large amount of money suddenly appeared in his bank account.”

  “Toni, how the hell do you know all this?”

  She met Nick’s intense look. “I followed Lou for weeks, researching this book. One day I saw him meet with Santos in a little café. I slipped the waitress fifty bucks for her apron and got close enough to eavesdrop. I took the shots of Taranto passing Santos the envelope, and they never even glanced up at me. When they left the diner, I decided to follow Santos and the envelope instead. That’s how I know he went straight to Colombia. I still had connections down there from the last book and I called one of them. Larry Wetzel. He has a lucrative little investigations agency going down there. He’ll testify if you force him to. Anyway, he met the flight and tailed Santos on that end. He reported that S
antos had checked into a motel and got himself a job at a small airfield. The next day Perez’s plane took off from that same airfield and crashed.”

  Nick stared at her and shook his head. “Slipped the waitress fifty bucks…” he mumbled, more to himself than anyone else.

  “How much of this do you have documented?” Harry seemed eager.

  “The photograph of Lou handing Santos the envelope is irrefutable. I have another one of Santos boarding the flight to Colombia. You already have proof that Santos sabotaged the flight. He would’ve been tried for that last year if he hadn’t been found hanging by the neck in his cell.”

  “If that was self-inflicted, I’ll eat my badge,” Harry said softly.

  “Still, it’s not solid,” Nick put it.

  “I have the envelope. There’s a coffee stain on it, identical to the one that shows in the first photo. My PI friend grabbed it out of a trash can where Santos had dropped it after lighting a match to it. Larry managed to douse the flame before it did too much damage.”

  Nick looked at Harry, then at Toni again. “Come on, Chekov, don’t keep us in suspense. What was inside?”

  She couldn’t help smiling a little smugly. “A five-by-seven glossy of Perez, and a handwritten note with the name of the airfield, the flight number and the time and date of departure. The only thing that wasn’t there was the money, and that is still in Santos’s bank account.”

  Harry’s long, low whistle came at the same moment that Nick asked, “Where?” She didn’t answer. His hands clasped her shoulders, and he squeezed them between his fingers. “Don’t play games, Toni. Tell me where to find the evidence.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll take you to it.” He frowned, and his grip tightened, but she only stuck her chin out a little farther. “If I tell you, you’ll try to stash me somewhere while you go after it alone.”

  His hands fell to his sides. He nodded. “That’s right.” He glanced downward for a long moment, then faced her again. “Your apartment. That locked room, right?”