DADDY WITH A BADGE

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DADDY WITH A BADGE Page 17

by Paula Detmer Riggs


  Still, it wouldn't hurt to give him a few nudges here and there.

  "Okay, no coast, no vineyard," she teased as she touched the scar at one corner of his mouth. "I know someone who could lend us some rods and tackle. If I promise not to hook you again, will you take us fishing?"

  * * *

  Lyssa had been less than enthusiastic—until Danni had suggested she invite Jody to come along. The place Luke recommended was on a bend of the Willamette, about twenty miles outside the city. Though secluded enough for privacy, it was close enough to the parking area to make for an easy walk.

  It was a beautiful spot, surrounded by lush vegetation and towering trees. Sweet William and blackberry vines grew in wild profusion along the narrow path, and the air was alive with the sound of bees.

  Deliciously warm now after the morning chill, the air was flavored with the mingled scents of rain-washed leaves and wind. Overhead, the sun was butter-cup yellow, lazily slipping in and out of meandering clouds the texture of cotton candy.

  They'd eaten first—fried chicken and potato salad and iced lemon bars Rafe had picked up at a deli near his motel. Outgoing and bubbly, Jody had been immediately smitten with Rafe, which had irritated Lyssa no end.

  While Lys sulked, Danni had listened in rapt attention as Jody managed to find out that Rafe had started his career guarding President Reagan and had even ridden with him at his ranch. He'd just finished his two years on the protection detail a few days before the former president had been shot. The frustration that crossed his face had touched Danni deeply. He cared, she realized. And he took his responsibilities very seriously.

  Now, as the sun started its downward slide toward afternoon, the girls were wading in the shallows along the shore, skipping rocks toward the other side while she lay curled on her side, watching Rafe fitting Luke's fly rod together.

  Looking large and enticingly male, he wore a khaki muscle shirt and running shorts. Every time he shifted position, the hard muscles of his thighs flexed and contracted, sending little ripples of reaction through her. Her body was definitely telling her what it wanted. At the moment she was trying very hard not to listen. To occupy her hands, she opened the container of cookies.

  "Want one?" she asked when his gaze flickered her way.

  "Just a bite." He leaned forward and opened his mouth, his eyes suddenly dark and questioning on hers.

  She broke off a piece and brought it to his lips. His hand captured her wrist as she started to withdraw. With his gaze still on hers, he licked a smear of icing from her index finger, his tongue hot and rough against her skin.

  "Thanks," he said, releasing her.

  "You're welcome," she replied politely, her stomach doing slow rolls beneath her floppy maternity T-shirt. His eyes told her he was feeling the same frustration. She forced herself to look away.

  "Okay, let's catch us some fish," he said, rising to walk barefoot over the sand into the water. "Lyssa, how about you go first."

  "I don't want to," she replied sullenly.

  Jody looked at her curiously. "Don't be a dweeb, Lys. It's fun. My grandpa taught me ages ago."

  Lyssa flicked Rafe an unfriendly look. "Fish are yucky."

  "That's what your mom said," Rafe told her with grin. "Until she decided she was going to catch a bigger fish than me."

  "I did, too," Danni told Lys smugly. "He was not happy."

  Lyssa looked torn. Finally she shrugged. "Whatever," she grumbled, but she moved toward Rafe instead of the shore.

  "Careful, the rocks are slippery," he said, holding out a hand.

  Lyssa hesitated, then put her hand in his. When the water was nearly to her knees, he stopped. "See that dark patch of blue just past midstream? I have a hunch that's where the wily ones hang out."

  "Just don't expect too much, okay?" Lys grumbled but Danni heard a hint of excitement in her tone.

  "Okay." He slipped behind her, his arms coming around hers. His voice was patient as he coached her through her first attempt.

  Danni remembered how it had been for her. The warmth of the sun on her back, the feeling of his strong chest against her back, the rumble of his voice against her ear. Back and forth, feel the snap in the wrist, put the fly upstream, then let it drift with the current.

  "He's out there, niña, just skimming along the bottom, that lacy tail fluttering just a little, waiting for you to dip that pretty little fly right in front of his nose."

  "I don't see anything," Lyssa whispered, her voice hushed.

  "Keep lookin' at that patch of dark blue water. Let yourself become part of the river."

  Panic tightened her features, making her scars stand out. "I can't do it," she protested.

  "Sure you can. It just takes practice." Moving slowly, he slid his hand over hers, curving the thin rod in a wide arc to the right and behind. And then, suddenly, the line arced out. The fly hit the water, sending out circular ripples. Danni held her breath, and then suddenly the line pulled taut, bending the slender rod.

  Sheer elation broke over Lyssa's face. "I feel it, Rafe!" she shouted. "We caught a fish!"

  "Not me, niña. This guy's all yours," he praised. His grin proud as a doting father's, he helped her land the prettiest steel-head Danni had ever seen.

  * * *

  It was just past 4:00 p.m. when Jake Folsom walked through the door to freedom. The clothes he'd put on when Cardoza had arrested him were stiff with sweat and wrinkled after being stuffed in a bag in the jail property room.

  They hadn't let him shower since yesterday morning, and the disposable razor they'd given him had chewed up his face. First thing when he hit the street he'd buy decent threads, then scrub the scum off his skin in a hot shower. He hated feeling like he'd slept in a pile of garbage. He'd done enough of that as a kid.

  A blinding glaze of red covered his eyes as the memories of the she-bitch whore who'd made his life hell pulsed through him. He'd been five the first time she'd locked him out overnight. He'd been fifteen the last time she'd tried it. He'd used her own butcher knife on her. Gutted her like the stinking fat pig. Squealed like one, too, she had.

  It still got him high, just thinking about it. A smile creased his tired face as he nodded at the guard at the desk who merely looked bored. In the crowded waiting area near the rear entrance Arlene leaped up from the chair where she'd been waiting, and hurried toward him. He gave her the grateful smile she expected before gathering her into his arms. A lumpy sack of potatoes would have felt sexier.

  "Oh baby, you feel so good," he lied into her mousy hair. "More than anything else, I hate involving you in this nightmare." He allowed himself to shudder in her arms and felt them tighten. Revulsion ran through him. Only a few more weeks, he reminded himself as he nuzzled his face against her neck. "If I could have spared you this, I would have, but there was no one else I trusted."

  "It's so unfair, Jacob," she declared with what sounded like a sob in her voice. "There's definitely something wrong with our legal system when a respectable man like you can be arrested simply because you happen to resemble a criminal."

  He drew back, then glanced around. "Let's get out of here, babe. I want to take a shower and then make love to you until I feel human again."

  Tears flooded her pale blue eyes. "Our motel is only a few blocks from here. Mr. Tandy made a reservation for us in a hotel downtown, but you know me and those fancy places, so I asked him to find us a more modest place. It's not fancy, but the sheets were clean and it was only a third of the price. I hope you don't mind, sweetheart."

  Feigning affection, he put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "That's my girl, always so sensible. It's what I love best about you, Arly."

  She slipped her arm around his waist. "Oh, Jake, I'm so happy that you came back to me." A shy smile crossed her pasty dumpling face. "I'm only half alive without you."

  He thought about the Beretta tucked into one of his bags in the Bronco. He hadn't decided yet whether or not to kill her before he left for C
anada.

  * * *

  Rafe was unlocking the door to his motel room when his beeper went off. It took him a moment to place the number. When he did, his blood iced.

  Inside, he tossed the key onto the dresser with one hand and reached for the phone with the other. Face grim, he punched out the number, then ran his hand through his hair as he listened to the ringing on the other end. The oily smell of fish still clung to his fingers.

  Lyssa had actually smiled at him a couple of times on the drive home. Chalk up one for his side. Not all that much in the scheme of things, but it was better than a slug in the gut.

  "Randolph residence." Instead of the brusque baritone he expected the voice that came across the line was light and airy—and decidedly not male. "This is Chloe speaking."

  He wondered which of the two copper-haired charmers in the picture on Randolph's desk she was. The one with the two missing front teeth, or the one who had her dad's grin? "Uh, is your daddy available, honey?"

  "May I say who's calling, please?"

  Randolph was one lucky man, he thought as he gave his name. His brows drew together as he tried not to think of the daughter he and Danni might have had together. He suspected she would have looked a lot like Lyssa. Might have had something of him, too, though that would have just been a sweet bonus. Just knowing she was a part of him would have been enough.

  "Rafe?"

  "Yeah. Something tells me I'm not heading back to D.C. any time soon."

  "The wife put up the bond. Fifty thousand cash. I just got the word. He's been out about three hours."

  The word Rafe used was foul.

  "My sentiments exactly," Randolph said in a tight voice.

  Rafe pulled out the chair and sat down to untie his sneakers. "Any idea where he is?"

  "Not a clue. I put in a call to Felicia. As soon as she gets a local address from Tandy, I'll let you know."

  "I'm a good twenty to thirty minutes from getting back to Danni's. Can you cover for me there until I can make it?"

  "Already figured on it."

  * * *

  "Rafe, you darling man! Thank you so much for the birthday flowers! Lincoln was quite wonderfully jealous when they arrived."

  Margie Slocum was by her own admission as plain as a mud hen on a bad day, with a boy's figure and a brilliant mind. She even wore thick glasses. Linc was crazy about her. Because he loved Linc like the big brother he never had, he couldn't help adoring the woman who had brought peace to Linc's tortured soul.

  "Jealous enough to buy you that Jag you keep hinting about?" he teased as he rubbed a towel over his shower damp hair.

  "Not yet but I did get a lovely lobster dinner and the cutest little black silk nightie. When are you coming back, darling? I'd love to show it to you."

  "Over my dead body!" Linc growled in the background.

  Margie giggled like a woman half her age. "Lord, but I love those testosterone surges."

  Laughing, Rafe tossed the towel over the shower door, then tucked his cell phone against his shoulder in order to pull on his skivvies. "If the big guy's done nibbling on your neck, can I have a word with him?"

  "For you, dearest Rafael, anything." He heard the smile in her voice and fought off a pang of envy. "You take care of yourself, okay?"

  "Yes, ma'am." He heard something that sounded definitely X-rated before Linc's graveled voice boomed down the line. "Find someone else to send those damn flowers to, Cardoza. Cost me a bundle saving my ass."

  "About that black nightie—"

  "Forget it, Ace," Linc said, laughing. But when he spoke again, his voice had turned serious. "I saw the flash about Folsom's arrest. Good work."

  "Yeah well, he just made bail."

  "Damn. What about the witness, what's her name?"

  "Daniela Fabrizio. She doesn't know yet. I just found out. The local cop on the case happens to be her next door neighbor and he's sitting on her until I can get there."

  "What kind of a set up does she have at her place?"

  "Workable, but not ideal." After switching off the light, he walked out of the bathroom. "It'd be my preference to hole up in a safe house as far away from Portland as possible, but no way will she go for that."

  "Have you given Gresham a heads up yet?"

  "Not yet. I was hoping you could arrange for him to use one of the advance planes to get back here quick." Field agents only got priority on the Secret Service Gulfstreams when the protection types weren't using them to prepare for VIP trips.

  "Should be doable. No major trips are scheduled by either the president or the vice president until July. Unless you hear different, he'll be there by morning."

  "Thanks." He pulled on his Wrangler jeans, leaving the fly open as he sat to pull clean socks out of his duffel. "You want me to have him call you?"

  "Might save time if I call him. Give me his cell phone number."

  Rafe rattled it off, then added, "Ask him to stop by my place and pack a bag for me. Enough for a couple of weeks. Mrs. Peebles across the hall has my key. She knows him, so it shouldn't be a problem."

  "Anything else?"

  "We're going to need some extra firepower and backup from the local office. Guy in charge, Henderson, wasn't all that eager to offer assistance when we asked to borrow a vehicle. Seemed to think he should have gotten the call on this one."

  "I'll take care of it." There was a pause before he added gruffly, "Rafe, do me a favor. Don't take any foolish chances, okay? Margie would never let me hear the end of it if I let anything happen to you."

  "I'll do my best," he said before hanging up. Two minutes later he had his weapon on his hip, his duffel over his shoulder and was out the door.

  * * *

  Case Randolph and his feisty, copper-haired wife, Prudy, had been having tea with Danni in the living room when he'd arrived. Case had already told Danni about Folsom's release on bail.

  It was clear that she was upset, but so far she was holding up amazingly well. Seated next to her mother on the sofa, Lyssa sat frozen, looking as though she couldn't quite understand what all the fuss was about.

  It had been his decision to lay out the procedures for both of them at the same time. As he'd suspected, Danni had refused to let him move the two of them to a safe house. To his immense relief it was the only protest she'd made.

  "Seth and I will move in here." He caught Lyssa's startled look and grinned. "I figure he can take one of the bunks in the boys' room."

  He felt Danni's gaze and meshed his gaze with hers. "Which bunk will you take, the upper or lower?" she teased, her eyes skimming down his body. He felt his skin growing hot.

  "I plan on bunking down on the sofa in the den." Lips still slightly swollen from his kisses curved, but she remained silent.

  "At night there'll be one of our guys sitting out front, another in the alley in the back. A tech crew will be here tomorrow to install security lights."

  Danni looked startled. "Rafe, I don't own this house, remember? What if the Paxtons don't want security lights?"

  He offered her a reassuring smile. "Then we'll uninstall them when they're no longer necessary."

  A worried frown formed between her brows. "This is getting complicated."

  "It's necessary, Danni," Case Randolph spoke up quietly.

  "I agree," Case's wife added firmly—and for once dead serious. "I've been a nurse long enough to know that anything that can happen usually will happen—and when you least expect it."

  Danni sighed. "I know when I'm outnumbered."

  Rafe sent the Randolphs a grateful look that won him a guarded look of friendliness from Mrs. Randolph and a look of commiseration from the man himself.

  "Seth or I will take care of the marketing and any other chores. Lyssa, Seth will accompany you to school and bring you home."

  She looked both intrigued and annoyed. "The kids will think I'm a retard or something."

  "Lyssa!" her mother chided.

  "Sorry," the girl muttered.

  "
He'll stay outside the classroom, but he'll walk with you from one to another."

  "Couldn't he sort of hang around but not, like, actually be with me?"

  "We'll see," he conceded, figuring Seth could handle that his own way.

  "What about me?" Danni asked. "I don't intend to neglect my patients because of that miserable weasel."

  Rafe risked a grin. "You get me, Doctor. Where you go, I go."

  * * *

  Danni slept alone—and hated it.

  Like a giddy schoolgirl she hugged the pillow he'd used, her face buried in the goose down, inhaling the scent that was uniquely Rafe. She wanted him desperately.

  She wouldn't let it be love.

  There were too many years gone by, too many ghosts, too much pain. But there was affection and friendship and pleasure. So much pleasure. She felt a pulse start deep inside, and rocked back and forth, trying to ease the need for him.

  Was he missing her, too? she wondered. Instead of sleeping tonight, he intended to stand watch. He'd been brewing coffee when she'd come upstairs. His weapon had been on his hip and there had been a look in his eyes that had both frightened and thrilled her.

  Once, when she'd been home with the flu, a friend from her first period algebra class had smuggled in one of her mom's steamy romance novels. For the next four hours, the two of them had huddled under the covers, reading about a marauding Viking warrior named Hank and his English captive, the lovely—and deliciously fiery—Lady Alys.

  Even as a child she'd always had an especially vivid imagination and the writer had been a gifted wordsmith. Not only had Danni seen the firelight flickering over the warrior's steely muscles and massive, wound-scarred chest, but she'd smelled the musk of his sun-bronzed skin and felt the slow gliding of his sweat-slick body down the length of her own.

  Rafe was her very own Hank. A bronzed, golden-haired warrior with the soul of a poet. Smiling, she slid down between the sheets and was turning to snap off the lamp when the phone rang. Automatically she answered, only to have Folsom's voice rip through her.

 

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