Pawn

by Carla Cassidy

  "Colette first," Nick said. "Hurry, Lynn. For God's sake, hurry."

  She had only taken two steps toward Colette when a loud crash rent the air. The lights flickered off and Lynn froze and squeezed her eyes tightly shut and waited for the blast that would blow her apart.

  Chapter 18

  No blast.

  Lynn opened her eyes to see twin headlights and the front end of a very familiar Buick smashed through what had been the door to the warehouse.

  As she watched in stunned surprise, Tiny opened the driver's side door and Stella got out of the passenger door. Sheetrock dust filled the air and the front end of the car hissed steam from a ruptured radiator. Lynn had never been so happy to see anyone in her life.

  "Are you all right?" Tiny yelled.

  "We've got to get out of here. There's a bomb in the place," Lynn exclaimed. She ran over to Colette and began to cut her loose.

  Stella ran to Nick and pulled a small but wicked-looking knife from her pocket. As Lynn worked to free Colette, Stella sawed on Nick's ropes.

  Colette got free and quickly tugged on the tape that bound her ankles. "Hurry, Stella," Lynn said frantically.

  "Cool it, girlfriend, I'm working as fast as I can."

  "Lynn, get out of here now," Nick said urgently.

  As Nick's hands came free, Stella tucked the knife back in her dress pocket. "Go, go, all of you. I'm right behind you," Nick yelled as he ripped at the tape on his feet.

  Chaos followed. Lynn followed Tiny up and over the hood of the car to get out of the warehouse. Once outside Lynn heard sirens in the distance as the five of them ran away from the building, which might explode at any moment.

  "That would be the cavalry," Tiny said.

  "If that's the local cops, then they aren't coming to help," Lynn exclaimed.

  "I didn't call the Raymore cops," Tiny replied with disgust. "I hear things about Raymore. I called a friend of mine with the Miami police."

  "And I called the FB and I," Stella added proudly. "Told them my two friends, Lynn White and Nick Barnes, had been kidnapped right off the street."

  "We saw those men force you into their car, so me and Stella got into my car and followed. We didn't know what was going on, but we knew you were in trouble." In the moonlight Tiny's face looked as menacing as Lynn had ever seen it. "We waited and watched. When we finally saw that man chain shut the front door and leave, we decided it was time to call the authorities and come in." He grimaced. "We didn't know if we'd find you dead or alive."

  The sirens grew louder as half a dozen cars came barreling down the gravel road toward the warehouse. Lynn closed her eyes and dropped down to the ground as she breathed deeply of the sweet-scented night air.

  They'd made it. Thank God, they'd all made it out alive.

  She heard the sound of cars screeching to a halt and the slam of doors. Wearily she stood up from the tall grass where she'd momentarily sought refuge.

  There was chaos as everyone began talking at once.

  Colette was explaining to a tall, dark-haired agent about the bomb, the drugs and Jimmy. Tiny was telling a shorter man about how he and Stella had seen the kidnapping and had followed them here.

  Lynn looked around. The one person she didn't see in the crowd of men was Nick. "Nick?" She called his name. There was no reply.

  She walked over to Colette. "Have you seen Nick?"

  "Yeah, a minute or two ago," Colette said. "I saw him hurrying back toward the warehouse."

  "We need to back these cars up," one of the agents yelled. "We all need to back up from the building."

  Lynn looked back at the warehouse, her blood roaring in her ears. Had he gone back in to save some crucial evidence? Oh God. The ledger.

  "Oh no." She took a step toward the warehouse, then another.

  "Hey!" A deep voice yelled from someplace behind her.

  She knew he was in there.

  Before she could take another step forward, large burly arms wrapped around her. "What the hell are you doing?" A deep voice exclaimed. "We've got to get back."

  "Please, he went back inside." She looked up at the big agent who held her tight. "Nick went back into the warehouse. We've got to get him out of there." She struggled but he held her tight. "Let me go!"

  At that moment there was a loud explosion. Almost immediately a rumble began, a rumble that shook the ground where they stood. The building erupted.

  The agent who had hold of her yanked her to the ground and covered her body with his as burning and thick debris rained down on them.

  "No," she whispered into the ground as a deep, wrenching sob ripped through her. "No!" She screamed the word in protest.

  The rain of fire, chunks of concrete and other rubble seemed to last forever. When it was finally over, the agent got off her and pulled her to her feet.

  "Are you all right?" he asked.

  She stood and looked toward where the warehouse had once stood. It was a fiery pile of nothing. There was no way anyone who had been inside could have survived. No, she wasn't all right. She wasn't sure she would ever be all right again.

  IT WAS AN ENDLESS NIGHT. Eventually Lynn and the others were transported away from the scene and taken back to an FBI field office in Miami.

  Statements were made and remade. Lynn talked to first one, then another agent and through it all she remained numb. Nick was gone and her grief was too great for tears. She told the agents about Buzz Cantrell and was assured he'd be arrested immediately.

  It was near dawn when finally the questions had been answered, the reports had been made and they were all released.

  She stood outside the field office with the morning sun just beginning to peek over the horizon. Tiny, Stella and Colette exited the building along with the agent who was driving them home.

  She forced a tired smile at Tiny and Stella. "I don't know how to thank you both," she said. "You put your own lives on the line for ours." She went up on her toes and kissed Tiny's cheek.

  Tiny shrugged, looking a bit embarrassed. "I only did what a good Christian should do in coming to the aid of my sister."

  "You kiss me and we're gonna have problems," Stella exclaimed. "I might be a hooker but I sure don't swing that way." Stella grinned and touched

  Lynn's hand lightly. "You take care of yourself, girlfriend."

  Lynn nodded, then looked at Colette. Her blond hair was still covered with dust and grime and the strain of the night shone from her red-rimmed blue eyes.

  Lynn's chest tightened as Colette stepped toward her and wrapped her arms around her. The two women hugged tight for a long moment. When Colette finally released her and stepped back, her face was shiny with tears.

  "How funny is this?" she said, swiping at her cheeks. "Nick's wife hugging his mistress." With almost tenderness she reached out and placed a hand on Lynn's shoulder.

  "Mourn him," she said softly. "Mourn him and then let him go. He loved you so much, Lynn. He'd want you to find happiness."

  The vise in Lynn's chest grew even tighter.

  "You sure you don't want a ride somewhere?" an agent asked her.

  She shook her head as Colette stepped away from her. "No, I'll be fine," she said.

  She watched as they all got into a car. A moment later the car pulled away from the curb and disappeared from her sight.

  The sun splashed colors across the sky, promising a beautiful day. As she raised her face toward the warmth of the sun, the numbness that had protected her from her grief fell away.

  Sharp jagged pain tore through her, threatening to double her over. Nick, her heart cried. Oh, Nick. Even though she had known she'd tell him goodbye, she'd never expected it to be like this. She had never, ever expected death to orchestrate their final goodbye.

  As the first spurt of tears filled her eyes, she drew a deep breath and took off running. She pumped her legs and swung her arms, falling into a rhythm as the blessed cocoon of numbness enveloped her once again.

  She ran until she could run no m
ore, then she stopped and rested. When she'd caught her breath she got up and ran some more.

  She was afraid to stop, afraid to slow down, certain that when grief finally caught up with her she would surely die from it.

  It was just after noon when she reached her final destination. She stopped on the street corner just across from her apartment building to once again catch her breath.

  Nick's car sat at the curb, just as it had when she and Nick had been forced away from it at gunpoint. A young man sat on the hood, reading a book and sipping from a two liter bottle of pop.

  She recognized him as the young man she'd seen at the church. Jessie. That was his name. He was the teenager whom Tiny was mentoring.

  As she walked across the street he looked up and quickly jumped off the hood. "Hey," he said, apparently recognizing her.

  "What are you doing here, Jessie?" she asked.

  "Tiny told me to watch the car and make sure nobody stole the stuff out of it." She leaned forward enough to see her suitcase and briefcase in the backseat, just where Nick had left them. "I didn't touch anything," he said hurriedly, as if afraid she might accuse him of something.

  "Of course you didn't," she replied and forced a smile. "Hang on and I'll get you some money." She opened the back door and pulled out her briefcase.

  "Nan, Tiny would skin me alive if I took anything from you." He grabbed his pop and his book. "Tiny says sometimes you do things just 'cause it's the right thing to do." He offered her a shy smile. "I figure this is one of them."

  His kindness was nearly her undoing. She blinked back tears as he took off down the sidewalk. She grabbed both her briefcase and the suitcase and carried them inside the building.

  The FBI had arranged for her to be on a flight later that evening back to Phoenix. She had the afternoon to kill before she had to leave for the airport.

  Wearily she leaned against the wall as the elevator carried her up to the third floor. She dug the keys out of her briefcase and unlocked the apartment door.

  She dropped the bags just inside the door, then locked it and collapsed on the sofa. It was only then that the numbness once again fell away and she wept.

  Chapter 19

  "Leo, get your hand out of my pumpkin," Lynn exclaimed and scowled at the big man.

  "I'd like to put my hand on your pumpkin," he said. He grinned wickedly as he pulled his hand out of the bright orange plastic pumpkin that sat next to the front door, ready for the little munchkins who should begin appearing at any moment.

  Lynn rolled her eyes. "It's hard to take a man dressed like a lima bean seriously."

  Leo rubbed a hand across his green face. "You got to admit, it's pretty ingenious. I mean, how many lima beans do you see on Halloween night?"

  "You need to get a real girlfriend, Leo," she said.

  "Maybe find a girl lima bean to talk to instead of sexually harassing your neighbor to pass the time."

  "I'll get a girlfriend when you get a boyfriend," he countered. The wicked gleam in his eyes faded and he gazed at her seriously. "You need to get a life, Lynn. Ever since you got back from your vacation all you do is stay cooped up in this place and work."

  "I have a life," she protested. "And stop looking so worried. It's totally out of character for you. There's nothing worse than a worried lima bean."

  He smiled and dropped his hand once again into the plastic pumpkin. He pulled out a miniature candy bar and held it out to her. "Here, eat this. I hear that chocolate is good for what ails you."

  She forced a laugh and took the candy bar from him. "Now, get out of here. I don't want you scaring away my little trick-or-treaters." She gave him a shove toward her door.

  "Okay, okay. I'm going. Pizza Saturday night?"

  She hesitated. They hadn't done a pizza night since she'd gotten back from Florida. "I don't know. We'll see," she said, unwilling to commit.

  He gave her a jaunty salute, then left. She closed the door after him, then walked to her window and peered outside. Halloween night. The sidewalks should begin crawling with little ghosts and goblins at any time.

  There was nothing that could appear on a Halloween night that would scare Lynn. After what she'd lived through in Florida, she didn't think she'd ever know real fear again.

  She moved from the window to the sofa and sat, thinking of Leo. She hadn't told him about Nick, hadn't shared with him the utter devastation she'd brought home with her from the trip. She knew he suspected something horrible had happened, but thankfully he hadn't pried.

  He was right, she hadn't done much of anything but work since she'd come home. For the first week she'd hardly been able to function. Her sorrow over Nick had been so all-consuming. It still was.

  Nick's death had made the national news, not just because he'd been an FBI agent who had died in the line of duty, but also because he'd been the eldest son of reputed mobster Joey Barnes.

  There had been a memorial service in Florida for Nick four days after the explosion. Lynn hadn't gone. Her pain had been too huge for a public ceremony. Instead, she had spent the day on her sofa, wrapped in a grief more deep, more dark than she'd ever known.

  It had been on that day that Faith had called. God bless Faith and her psychic abilities. She had known Lynn was in a bad way. She had immediately hopped a plane and stayed with Lynn for three days.

  And in those three days she encouraged Lynn to talk about Nick, to tell her everything that had happened, to vent all the emotions Lynn had tried so hard to suppress.

  It had been a cathartic three days and at some point during that time with her sister's support and love, Lynn had taken a first step on the road to healing.

  Although she hadn't talked to Tiny since being home, she'd used some of the money the FBI paid her to make a substantial anonymous donation to his church.

  Even though she'd made it anonymously, she had a feeling that Tiny would know where it came from. She hoped he'd use some of the money to help Stella find a different line of work and the start of a new life.

  She'd been debriefed by Blake, who hadn't answered many of her questions, but who had assured her that the FBI was working on finding the intended destination of the bomb and the specific mastermind behind the plot.

  She'd managed to decipher another list of names from the file and had sent it on to Delphi. She'd met Kim Valenti for dinner one evening and was pleased to discover that they had a lot in common. She had a feeling over the coming months Kim might become a new good friend.

  She had received no further e-mails from A, but had a feeling she hadn't heard the last from the spider source. All in all, she'd managed to reclaim her life here, but she knew it would be a long time before she could do as Colette had encouraged her and find any real happiness.

  By seven, her doorbell rang on a regular basis and for the next two hours she enjoyed handing candy out to babies dressed as lambs and bugs, young girls clad in princess gowns and boys proud in superhero attire.

  Although she loved seeing the children, loved the sound of their innocent giggles and the gift of their shy little smiles, she also saw what might have been in every baby face.

  If Nick had lived would they have managed to find a way to meld their lives together? Her grief nearly overwhelmed her.

  She wished she hadn't been on the pill when they'd made love. She wished she'd gotten pregnant and now carried his child. It was a purely selfish wish. On an intellectual level she never would have wanted a child growing up without a father. But on a strictly emotional level, she wished she had a piece of Nick that had been left behind, a legacy that would have survived his death.

  By nine o'clock her doorbell had stopped ringing. It was a school night so Lynn assumed most of the kids had been filled with candy and tucked into bed.

  She turned off her porch light and locked the door. Even though it was early, she intended to call it a night. Her heart felt unusually heavy and she was ready for the sweet oblivion of sleep.

  It took her only minutes to wash her
face and change from her jeans and T-shirt into one of her silky nightgowns. She was going from the bathroom to the bedroom when the doorbell rang once again.

  So, maybe not all the trick-or-treaters were in bed, she thought as she pulled on a robe and hurried to the door. She flipped on the porch light and pulled open the door, plastic pumpkin in hand.

  A bad joke. That's the first thing she thought when she saw the man who stood on her porch. Somebody was playing a horrible joke.

  Despite the fact that his hair was a light brown and his eyes were green instead of that deep, dark chocolate, the man on her porch looked amazingly like Nick.

  Her brain couldn't wrap around it. Had somebody dressed up on Halloween to look like Nick?

  And then he spoke. "Lynn," he said softly.

  The plastic pumpkin dropped from her hand. "Nick?"

  "Yeah, baby. It's me."

  A miasma of emotions railed inside her, the dominant one exploded into anger. She launched herself at him and beat on his chest with her fists as tears of relief flooded from her.

  He did nothing to deflect her blows, but just stood there and allowed her to beat his chest until she'd flailed herself out Only then did she wrap her arms around him and held on tight, as if afraid this was a dream and when she woke up he'd be dead once again.

  He crushed her to him and she drew in the familiar scent of him, wept tears of joy, then finally shoved back from him and eyed him angrily. "You're supposed to be dead," she cried. "I mourned for you. Damn you, Nick! I saw that warehouse blow up and thought you were in it."

  "Can I come in?"

  She realized they were standing in the doorway and she pulled him inside and slammed the door. She wanted answers. Dammit, she deserved answers. "I have just spent the last three weeks of my life mourning the death of the man I loved. I thought you were dead!"

  "Nick Barnes is dead. He died in that warehouse explosion." He took her hand and led her to the sofa, where he sat then pulled her down next to him. "I had to die, Lynn. Nick Barnes had to die that night if I was going to have any kind of a life afterward."