“I still don’t know if my mother is safe…”
“No,” he said. “But I don’t want anyone to use you to get to her, either.”
She agreed. She was shaken by the fact that Maddox had not given her a number. It had made her a doubter as well. She watched Nate take out his cell phone. Turn it on. Obviously look at the messages. He pushed some numbers. She couldn’t help but hear his side of the conversation.
“Hi, buddy. You called?” He frowned as he heard the answer. “I expected as much. And you?” She heard real distress in his voice. “Damn, I’m sorry, Gray.”
A silence on his side, then, “Just fishing, friend. I’ll be damned if I come back until then. Let them stew. But you stay out of it, hear. It’s just Barker. I haven’t done anything wrong, and it’ll be straightened out when I get back. Just don’t eat too many hot dogs at the ball game.”
He hung up. “I have to find a public telephone.”
“There’s a small town not far away.”
“How far?”
“Twenty minutes, maybe.”
“Then we’ll wait here for a few more minutes.”
She looked at him curiously.
“Gray’s phone might be tapped and they could possibly trace my cell phone if I’d stayed on any longer.”
“And the hot dogs?”
“A bar where we sometimes watch ball games. He’ll go there.”
“Why did he call you?”
“I’m being suspended. I haven’t been keeping in touch. And someone told them I’m in Steamboat Springs in the company of someone I’ve been told to avoid. There’s a hearing next week.”
“Who told them?”
“Very good question. I didn’t speak to anyone but you and the Faulkners. Somehow I don’t think they would call the Boston office.”
“You have to go back.”
“Hell I do. I’m sticking to my fish story.”
“They’re going to find out you’re with me.”
“By then you and your mother will be safe,” he said. “Hopefully, we’ll have some bad guys. There’s no better argument than success.”
She felt lost in that dank swamp again. “What if my brother’s involved?”
“Then it’s better that you know,” he said.
“Easy for you to say.”
“Not any longer, Sam. I hope like hell—for your sake—that he has nothing to do with this.”
“What do you think?”
“I saw him throw his body in front of yours at his house, Samantha. I saw the way he looked at you when you were bleeding. No, I don’t think he’s been involved in anything that has happened to you.”
He had narrowed his scope to that, and she recognized it. She knew he had still not completely absolved her brother in his mind.
She looked longingly at the phone. “Can I try my mother’s cell phone?”
“I’d rather you didn’t. They will have a fix on this number and might be able to pick up her location. You can call on the public phone.”
“The FBI is monitoring your phone?”
“Count on it. There were ten messages from my superior on the phone. Gray’s been reassigned to review old cases. He wasn’t suspended, but there’s no doubt his career will suffer because of me.”
“Us,” she corrected.
“Us,” he agreed with a trace of a smile. “But suspension makes it hard to ask for help from any local law. It also means my password won’t get me into files any longer.”
“But how could they suspend you when you’re on vacation?”
“Because I was told quite clearly to drop the Merritta case and they think I’m continuing to work it.”
“Continuing to work it?” She didn’t like the inference but she was tired of unsaid suspicions. She planned to attack every doubt head-on, from now on.
“I didn’t put that very well,” he said. “In their eyes, I’ve disobeyed a direct order. Maybe Barker can’t make it stand, but he’ll give it one hell of a good try.”
“Barker?”
“My boss.” His lips thinned, and she knew from his voice and expression that he held his superior in contempt.
She understood now why he pursued the Merrittas. If she had seen her mother gunned down when she was a child, she knew she too would want justice.
The question was: How much was justice, and how much concern for her and her mother? Her mother, after all, apparently knew something that could have hurt the Merrittas years ago. Even before his mother was killed.
If she had gone to federal authorities then, perhaps the Merrittas would have been in jail. Perhaps his mother wouldn’t have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
She sighed. Years ago, their parents made decisions that inevitably affected both of them.
He reached out his hand, placed it over hers on the seat between them. “I want you to believe that the only person I really care about now is you. I want you safe. I want you to have the life you used to have.”
“I’ll never have that again,” she replied. “I’ll never look at my mother without knowing what I lost. What you lost. I’ll love her. I’ll always love her. But I don’t know whether I will ever have the same trust.”
“I imagine she did what she felt she had to do at the time. Remember how young she was and that she had two children to think about. I imagine she was afraid to do anything with Nick in Paul’s hands,” he said gently. “You know things now she didn’t know. Hindsight isn’t fair.”
“But your mother might still be alive if she had gone to the FBI.”
“And your mother might be dead,” he finished. “We can’t change history. We can only try to change the future.” His hand squeezed hers, and she knew he meant what he was saying. He was willing—and apparently able—to throw off the past. But could he ever really escape the memories?
She angled around and leaned against him, ignoring the sudden pain in her leg. She had been attracted to him from the first moment she saw him in the airport. She’d carried that image with her, and the attraction had intensified when he’d helped her carry Nick to safety.
Then the kiss.
The kiss that had warmed her down to her toes, and still did every time she thought about it.
He’d said he wasn’t good at his job, that he’d let too much happen to her. But he had always been there. He’d helped her at the airport, then when the car had been run off the road. He’d rescued her yet again at the hospital, followed her to Colorado.
So many times.
“Thank you,” she said, looking up at the face that so appealed to her.
“Ah, pretty lady. There’s nothing to thank me for. We’re not done yet and I’m not sure whether I’m leading you into even greater trouble.”
“You don’t trust Jack Maddox, do you?”
He hesitated, and she knew he was debating what to tell her.
“I want the truth, Nathan.”
“I told you there was a contract for a grab and snatch.”
She waited for him to continue.
“Whoever commissioned this contract wanted you and your mother alive and, I suspect, together. The better to intimidate her.”
She nodded her understanding.
“I don’t think that’s what your assailant in Steamboat Springs had in mind. I think he meant to kill you.” The implication hung in the air. She didn’t want to believe it.
“You mean two different groups…?”
He nodded, his mouth grim. “With two different agendas.”
“Why?”
“I can guess,” he said. “If your mother never got a divorce, she will probably have a legal right to a significant portion of Paul Merritta’s estate. The fact that she was declared dead wouldn’t matter if someone else was responsible for the fraud. At the very least, she could tie the estate up in probate for years, which would leave it vulnerable to scrutiny. There are family members who wouldn’t like to see that happen. One of them may well want you two to disappear.”
/>
She tried a smile and knew she was failing miserably. “Someone in the Merritta family wants me dead so I won’t take any of their money, and someone outside wants to kidnap me to get whatever information or evidence my mother might have. Is that it?”
“It might be.”
“Wonderful,” she said. “And you think Jack Maddox is with which faction?”
“He stopped someone from killing you.”
“You’re saying my guardian angel could be my ultimate executioner,” she said. “Then why would my mother have told him so much about me?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “He might be exactly who he says he is, but I won’t know until I talk to Gray. I just know we need to be careful.” He reached over and touched her cheek. “You must be exhausted.”
She was. Adrenaline sufficed only so long. Yet being here with him—even in these circumstances—made her feel warm and oddly content. And safe.
He looked at his watch, then leaned over and touched her lips with his, his fingers tucking a curl behind an ear in a devastatingly intimate way. “One of these days…”
“One of these days, what?” she asked lazily after a moment’s silence.
But he didn’t reply to that question. Instead, he straightened. “We should be going.”
She laid her head on his shoulder. She felt an intake of breath. She affected him as he affected her. A comforting thought.
He backed out of the narrow dirt track until they neared the main road, then turned the car around. “As much as I like you there,” he said, “you’d better put on your seat belt.”
Reluctantly she did. And thought ahead, wondering whether they were traveling toward her mother.
Or a trap.
They stopped at a gas station. Nate suggested that Sam go inside and pick up several soft drinks and a variety of snacks while he used the pay phone. He knew that bar number intimately. He’d spent a lot of hours there after his wife died.
Gray picked it up on the first ring.
“You weren’t followed?”
“Come on, Nate. You know me better than that.”
“These are professionals,” Nate said. “They must have gotten to Steamboat before Sam did. There was another attack.”
“Is she all right?”
“A bullet in the leg. She’s one hell of a lady. Tried to protect her friend just as she tried to pull Merritt from a burning car. But I picked up some interesting information, and I need you to check on two men. A Jack Maddox in Flagstaff, Arizona. He says he owns an outdoor adventures company. And someone named Simon—either first or last name—who owns a private plane in Durango, Colorado.”
“Why not something hard?” Gray complained.
“I know how you like challenges.”
“What else?”
“I need the names and photos of Boston patrolmen who worked in and around Merritta’s home and business thirty- four years ago. And whether an undercover agent turned up missing at that time.” Nate knew that Maddox said he had obtained a list, but Nate wanted his own, and he knew that if anyone could get the photos, Gray could.
Gray gave a low whistle. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Just guesses at the moment. And by the way, someone else might be trying to obtain those photos, too, so…”
“Be sly,” Gray finished. “I can do sly,” he added with a chuckle. “It should be easy enough to get the names of those stations, then the names of the men working out of them. Photos might be a bit harder if they left the department more than twenty years ago.”
“Concentrate on any names that might ring bells with you,” Nate said. “Someone who might have a lot to lose now.”
“Okay. How do I reach you?”
“You don’t,” he said. “I’ll call you at Janie’s. Ten tomorrow morning?”
“I’ll see what I can get.”
“Thanks.”
He hung up. He owed Gray more than his thanks, but he would take care of that later.
Sam stood next to him with a bag. She also held a T- shirt with an elk on the front. “I got two of them,” she said. “I’ll wear the cougar. You can have the elk.”
He grinned at her. She limped but wasn’t using the cane. She apparently had just combed her hair and put on lipstick and she looked gorgeous, especially with the trace of mischief in her eyes. He handed the phone to her. “I think it’s safe enough to make some calls.”
She took it and dialed a number. It rang and rang and rang.
He saw the disappointment in her eyes. He felt it, too. He wanted to confirm that her mother was safe with the man called Simon. But if he had been Simon, he would have told Patsy Carroll not to answer the phone.
She clicked the number off, then called a second number.
“Terri?”
He started to move away.
Then he heard Sam say, “Nick?” and moved back closer where he could hear.
“He’s staying in town. He’s worried about you.” Terri’s voice was barely audible.
“Where is he?” Sam asked, turning the receiver so he could hear better.
“Your favorite hotel. Call him.” Terri rattled off a number.
“Thanks.”
“Should I tell him you called me?”
Nate shook his head.
“No,” Sam said reluctantly. “I have to think about it.”
“I like him, Sam. He took me to supper earlier. I think—”
Nate shook his head. “Cut it off,” he mouthed.
She looked rebellious for a moment, then nodded. “I have to go. I’ll check back with you later.”
He reached over and hung up the receiver.
“Surely there wouldn’t be someone tracing her brother’s phone.”
“It’s better not to take chances,” he said, starting for the car.
“You don’t believe he came because he’s worried about me?” she asked.
“I don’t know, Sam. I don’t think it’s a good idea to trust anyone at this point.”
He saw her fighting tears, and it was so rare, despite all she had been going through, that his heart ached for her She was hurting and tired and scared. Hell, he was scared, too. And he realized how much she wanted to trust Nick Merritt. How important it was to her. And now Merritt might have come to help her and he was throwing cold water on the idea.
But Merritt had always been an enigma to Nathan and that’s why he’d always suspected him of being involved. Too many inconsistencies. Too many coincidences. Even if Merritt had noble intentions, Nate didn’t want Sam in the cesspool that was organized crime in Boston.
He opened the car door for her and she got in while he filled the tank with gas. Then he got in the driver’s seat.
Another thirty minutes and they would be in Fort Collins. Perhaps then they could both get some rest. And some answers the next morning.
He wanted to reach over and touch her again, but she looked so fragile he feared she might break.
“For the record,” he said, “I don’t think your brother would hurt either you or your mother. But…”
But he didn’t like Merritt’s sudden appearance in Steamboat, either. He didn’t like him taking Terri to supper.
Raging inside, he started the car and pulled out on the road.
twenty-nine
Sam guided Nate to the motel. It was, as she said, large and well-lit.
He drove around the parking lot, looking for tags obviously belonging to rental cars. He noticed several scattered throughout the area. He checked each one of them. Hit men usually kept their cars pristine clean. They wanted no clues, and they didn’t take chances that a piece of paper might find its way under the seat, or a map might have a fingerprint.
None of the cars reached that pristine state. Most had maps scattered on the seat, a jacket or some hint of its occupant.
He quickly saw Maddox’s truck and wondered whether the dog was also a welcome guest in the hotel.
Then he saw a door
open. It was six rooms down from the pickup. Maddox had obviously seen him.
The dog, Jock, stepped out with him. Nate saw no sign of a weapon. Just a manila envelope in Maddox’s hand. That didn’t mean anything, though.
“I thought you would check out the parking lot before driving in.’’ Maddox said it with satisfaction rather than irritation.
“I’m sure you did the same.”
Maddox’s expression didn’t change. “You purposely lost me.”
“There was a stop we had to make.”
Through the car window, the two men evaluated each other. Judged.
Maddox nodded. “I rented a room for you two. Mr. and Mrs. Powell. I rather thought you wanted to stay together.”
“I’m not sure I want to go into an empty room when you’ve been holding the key.”
“Understandable,” Maddox said.
Nate realized then that Maddox had just as many doubts about him as he did about Maddox. He grinned. “Then you won’t mind if I get another room.”
“Nope. But perhaps you won’t feel the need when you look at this.” He held up the envelope.
“What’s in it?”
“The list of police officers who served in 1968. A few photos. A phone number for Miss Carroll.” Maddox glanced around the parking lot again. “Will you come in to talk or are we going to keep dancing around one another?”
Hell, Nate thought, the door was open. He could see nearly the whole room. And Maddox was right. They weren’t going to accomplish much if they kept this up. He looked at Sam, who nodded.
He found a parking place and stepped out of the car, putting his hand on his holstered weapon. Maddox opened the passenger door and helped Sam out and led the way into the room, Jock following.
Once inside, Nate checked the bathroom and closet. Nothing unusual. A notebook computer sat open on the desk.
Maddox closed the door, turned the locks, fastened the chain. He handed Nate the envelope.
Nate didn’t tell him he was obtaining his own list. They had different sources. They might get different results, either on purpose or by oversight.
“I want to call my mother,” Sam said.
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