Still, it all hinged on one little girl. It scared him to think what life would be like for Danni—and everyone else involved—if something went wrong. Imagining that had pretty much ruined his sleep and wrecked his stomach.
Maybe it had been sleep deprivation that had had him getting all sentimental down by the pond. Whatever it was, he needed to block it out. Later, he would deal with mending his fences.
Next to him, Lyssa adjusted the ponytail she'd pulled into one of those scrunchy things. She looked more excited than nervous. He was the one with a burning knot in his belly.
While he'd had been tripping over his own tongue, Seth had been taking her though the plan again, step-by-step. Once he was satisfied, he had her call Folsom to say they were leaving in ten minutes.
"How'd you get blood on your vest, Mom?" Lys asked as Seth drove through the gate.
"It's a long story," Danni said, turning to mesh her gaze with Rafe's. He managed to smile back, but his mind was already focusing on the next few minutes. As soon as she turned around again, Rafe took Lyssa's hand and kissed it. She flashed him a smile, then took a deep breath and focused her attention on the road.
He caught Seth's gaze in the mirror and nodded.
* * *
Soon. It would be soon.
Jake's muscles were coiled and ready. Excitement churned in his belly and danced through his head and he checked the Beretta one more time. The extra clips were in his pocket, but he doubted he would need them. Among his other talents, Jake Folsom was a crack shot.
Once again, his plan was flawless. His Beretta was loaded with explosive, high velocity death. His escape route north to Vancouver had been laid out in meticulous detail. Soon. Very soon Jacob Peter Folsom would exist only in the minds of the dumb-ass cops he'd beaten and the brainless twits he'd conned.
Only one man stood between him and the new life he had planned. One stupid, plodding government hack, paid peanuts to put his life on the line out of some pathetically corny belief in justice.
Jake laughed softly before tipping the liter bottle of water to his mouth. What justice there was in this country was simply another commodity like rare gems and fast cars and beautiful women, available only to those with money.
After capping the bottle he tucked it back into the cooler. He'd already policed the area to make sure he hadn't left any clues behind. After he made sure all the occupants of the silver Mercedes were dead, he would carry the cooler and the lawn chair to the Mercedes and drive back to the spot where he'd left his Bronco. By this time tomorrow Michael Carlyle would be in Canada taking delivery of his own Mercedes, his only worry what to order for dinner.
Oh yes, life was going to be so sweet.
Soon, now. Very soon.
Through the hole he'd cut in the blackberry thicket he could see the silver Mercedes Lyssa had described coming toward him. Only seconds separated Cardoza from the agonizing death he deserved.
Jake could hardly wait.
* * *
"Ow," Lyssa said suddenly, clutching her stomach.
Danni's head swiveled around, alarm stamped on her features. "What's wrong, sweetie?" she asked anxiously.
"I don't feel so good," Lys gasped out, then for good measure, let out a keening groan. The kid was a natural, Rafe thought with real admiration. Her face had actually turned pale, he noted, before shifting his gaze to the road. "I think I ate too many enchiladas."
The culvert was ahead. Bushes blocked the view, but Rafe knew Folsom was there, waiting. He braced, ready to reach for the door handle. He was going out after Lyssa on the passenger
"Are you going to be sick to your stomach?" Danni asked, touching her daughter's head where it was bent over her knees.
"It just hurts," Lyssa wailed.
Seth slowed slightly, matching his pace to Lyssa's performance. Countless times during the last week they'd practiced on a country road outside of Portland.
"Stop the car, I'm going to be sick!" Lyssa cried, right on the target. Rafe released her seat belt and his.
"Hang on, kid," Seth muttered for Danni's benefit, braking hard. The Mercedes swerved into the pull-off and shuddered to a stop a good ten feet from the incline. Rafe eased his weapon from the holster.
"I'll help you, sweetie," Danni said, fumbling with her seat belt.
It happened fast then. Rafe threw open the door, and Lyssa scrambled out, her hand over her mouth. At the same time Seth grabbed Danni and pulled her down below the level of the window, covering her with his body in classic duck-and-cover procedure.
Lyssa ran to the edge of the pull-off just as Folsom came charging up, his weapon drawn. Instead of going down and rolling as she'd done perfectly each time Seth had taken her through it, she saw the gun in Folsom's hand and froze, directly in Rafe's line of fire. He veered left to get a clear shot. With a feral cry, Folsom fired. Pain exploded in Rafe's left thigh. He was already falling when another shot slammed into his shoulder. He heard other shots, heard Lyssa scream.
No! his mind shouted just as his head cracked against something hard and then everything went black.
* * *
Rafe surfaced slowly, the memory of pain still vivid in his mind. He felt a sense of urgency, an unnamed fear. Something was wrong, something important, but his thoughts kept scattering, bits and pieces.
Danni. Lyssa. The baby.
Noise. Terror.
Gunshots. Had there been shots? He felt his heart rate speed. He struggled to wrap his mind around those pieces. To pull them all into some kind of sense.
"Rafe, can you hear me?"
Linc? What was he doing in Portland? He felt a hand on his arm. Someone else was holding his hand. He heard odd little beeps, familiar, yet he couldn't quite place them.
"Hey, Rafe, open your eyes, partner." Another voice, a different accent. Gresham. "There's a whole bunch of people hanging out in the corridor yonder who haven't been to bed in almost twenty-four hours while you've been snoring away."
Snoring? What the hell?
Somehow he managed to pry open his eyes. Little by little the blurry images sharpened until Linc's homely face swam into view. He fought to clear the sticky gray cobwebs from his mind. "What happened?" he managed to rasp out.
"We took him down, Rafe." Linc's voice was sharp with grim satisfaction. "That murdering bastard, Folsom. He's downstairs on a slab."
"He used a Beretta like the shooter who killed Alice. It's a good bet the bullets the docs dug out of you will match the ones that killed her," Seth added grimly.
Folsom? Had they sprung the trap without him?
Rafe fought to remember. And then suddenly, panic shot through him. He struggled to sit up, only to have hands hold him down.
"Lyssa?" he croaked.
"She's fine," Seth assured him, pride in his voice. "Damned if she didn't try some of her kick-boxing tricks on the bastard. Distracted him just enough for our guys to get in a shot."
Tears flooded his eyes. Damn but he was proud of her. "Danni?"
"She's fine, too." Something in Seth's voice had his heart jolting.
"She's … ticked off?" he guessed aloud.
Linc chuckled. "Let's say she's not very happy with any of us at this moment."
"She'll get over it," Seth offered. "Both she and Lyssa insisted on riding in the ambulance with you, and they pretty much camped out in the waiting room until the doc told us you were gonna make it."
"Where … now?"
"Her father took her back to the vineyard." His partner needed a shave and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked exhausted. Linc didn't look much better.
"The entire Cardoza family is outside, including a whole passel of little ones asking about their Tio Rafe," Linc said, his smile strained in his tired face. "Nice people. We've kept each other company. They'll want to see you if you feel up to it."
Rafe managed to nod.
"I'll just go get them," Linc said. "Glad to have you back, old son." He pressed Rafe's hand before disappearing.
> "Me, too, partner," Seth said, rising.
"Seth?"
"Yeah?"
"Tell Danni I want to see her. To explain."
Seth dropped his gaze. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea right now, Rafe. She's pretty steamed."
"Tell her … no, ask her, anyway."
"For you, partner, anything." His grin was lopsided, but Rafe was pretty sure he saw tears in the kid's eyes.
* * *
Although it was nearly 6:00 p.m., the sun was still high in the sky. Sunday was a day of rest, and the vineyard was quiet. The tables had been put away for another year and the party debris piled in the Dumpster.
After her father had brought them home from the hospital around five o'clock that morning, she and Lyssa had gone to bed in Danni's old room. Lyssa had awakened after a few hours and had gotten out of bed, which had jerked Danni out of a restless sleep. Still high on adrenaline, Lyssa was unable to settle. Since it had turned out to be another perfect day, Danni had suggested a swim. While Lyssa worked off excess energy, Danni sat at a poolside umbrella table, trying to work a crossword puzzle to distract herself.
Seth had found them alone at the pool and presented his case.
"What is there to explain?" Danni asked, staring at the tired looking man seated across from her. He was still wearing the same jeans and shirt, sadly wrinkled now, and his jaw was rough with whiskers. At the moment he looked more Wild West than Ivy League.
"Rafe could have gotten my daughter killed. Nothing else is relevant." She narrowed her gaze accusingly. "You could have gotten her killed."
He shifted uneasily. "The way Rafe set it up the chances of that were very slim, Danni."
"Slim is still a risk, which is more than I would have permitted, had I been asked. But I wasn't, was I?"
Something flickered in his blue eyes, but to his credit he kept them steady on hers. "No, you weren't asked."
"Rafe's orders, right?"
A trapped look came into his eyes, before he nodded. "Look, I know you're upset, but—"
"Upset? Oh no, Seth, I'm so far past upset what I'm feeling isn't even on the chart."
"Hey Seth, watch this!" Lyssa called from the edge of the diving board.
He turned in his chair to call back, "I'm all eyes, toots!"
Danni's stomach contracted as Lys stood poised for an instant, then performed a ragged jackknife, the same dive she'd been learning before the accident. She came up wiping water from her eyes and grinning. "How was that?" she asked eagerly.
"Looked terrific to me!" Seth called back.
"Your best today," Danni told her. "Why don't you take a break now, sweetie. Remember what your therapist said. Exercise followed by rest to let the muscles recover."
She looked ready to protest when Seth added, "There's something in the Mercedes for you. On the front seat with your name on it."
"Killer!" she shouted before hoisting herself over the lip of the pool. Seth stood to toss her a towel. "What is it?" she asked, her voice muffled as she dried her face.
"Go and see," he told her. "Mostly it's from Rafe. I'm just the delivery boy."
"I love presents!" Grinning, she wrapped the towel around her still dripping body.
"Wear your flip-flops," Danni ordered. "The grass has burrs."
Impatiently, she slipped her feet into her thongs. "Be right back," she shouted as she raced through the open gate in the fence around the pool area.
"What did you bring her?" Danni asked tightly.
Seth sat again and stretched his legs. "Four tickets to the Acid Aliens concert in Seattle next month. Front row center."
Gratitude mixed with resentment. "I won't forbid you to be there because I know Lyssa would resent me for it, but if Rafe shows up, too, we will leave."
Danni knew real misery when she saw it. His was acute. "Danni, please don't do this. Give him five minutes. Let him give you his side of this."
Danni felt the baby kick and wanted to weep. How could he have put this child at risk as well? So many things could have gone wrong. She'd experienced all of them in the nightmare hours she'd spent since gunshots had exploded around her yesterday.
Closure, Danni. Remember? No lingering feelings to tie the two of you together. Her heart contracted at the memory of the kind of closure she'd once envisioned.
"All right, five minutes, not a second longer. Make sure you tell him that. Not a second longer."
* * *
Rafe sensed her an instant before he opened his eyes. Hungry for the sight of her, he let his gaze skim every inch of her, from the glossy hair caught back with a yellow ribbon to the pink polished toes peeking out of her sandals.
She wore an oversize pale yellow T-shirt with the Mancini label on the front, the same kind that was sold in the gift shop, and the white slacks she'd worn to the fiesta. Her face was pale, but composed.
His need to touch her bordered on desperate. To feel her melt against him and tell him she understood. To fill his senses with the clean scent of her hair instead of the medicinal stink of the hospital.
She didn't smile as he greeted her, but she'd brought flowers from the garden. A good sign, he told himself—and almost believed it.
"These are from Papa and Aunt Gina," she said tightly, her eyes cool and remote as she set them on the bed stand. "Don't worry about returning the vase. We have plenty."
His hopes hit the floor. She was beyond angry. "Thank them for me, okay?"
"Of course." She glanced around at the monitoring equipment, then at the leg they'd put in traction after repairing the broken femur in surgery. "How are you?"
"Damn tired of getting shot." He tried to make it a joke. She didn't laugh.
"Will you walk again?"
His jaw tightened. "Yes."
She nodded, her expression remote. "Good. I'm glad."
He shifted on the pillow, trying to get a read on the best way to plead his case, but she was giving him nothing to work with. She had pulled everything inside, where he couldn't reach her. His face was suddenly icy, and yet, inside, he felt clammy with fear. "Sweetheart—"
"Don't call me that!" she exclaimed, her eyes suddenly hot. "Don't ever call me that again! If you do, I'll walk out."
Anger he could handle. It was the icy indifference that terrified him. "Will you walk out if I tell you I love you?"
The heat in her eyes faded as quickly as it came. It was hurt that simmered there now, the kind that came from deep inside. But when she spoke again, her voice was eerily calm. "That lovely scene we played out by the pond, it makes perfect sense now. Why yon were so eager for me to trust you. You knew exactly what was going to happen in just a few minutes and you were covering your butt."
It stung. Stung more than the pain in his leg which was screaming. Stung like hell because she might be right. At least partially.
"I meant every word I said," he said quietly, his voice hoarse. "Maybe the timing was wrong, but it just … happened that way."
"But this obscene plan you concocted to use my daughter, that didn't just happen, did it? That was deliberate. In fact, according to Lyssa, you had her practicing for days."
He hated explaining himself. It seemed like begging. For her, though, he'd try. "In my gut I knew he'd get to you. It was the only way to make sure he didn't."
"Ah, so that makes it right? You would sacrifice Lyssa to save me."
"Damn it, Princess, it wasn't like that at all! I had Lyssa covered. I knew he'd go for me first."
She seemed to pale even more. "But what if he hadn't?"
"But he did, damn it! And now he's dead. He can't get to you. Or the baby." Deliberately, he let his gaze rest on her tummy. A man fighting for his life sometimes fought dirty. "Not now, or not years from now. Or have you forgotten the threats he made?"
She took a breath, then seemed to grow even more remote. He felt her slipping away from him, and fingers of panic clawed his spine.
"I knew you were strong-willed, Rafe. I knew you could be stubborn
and determined. I didn't realize how ruthless you could be when you wanted something. In fact, it occurs to me that in many ways you and Folsom are exactly alike."
He felt that to the bone. It was beyond hurtful. "Damn it, I'm not anything like him!"
Her gaze stayed steady on his, but the hands resting on the bed railing tightened. "No? Let's see, shall we? Jonathan deliberately set out to deceive and betray me. So did you. Jonathan seduced me for his own aims. So did you. I thought I was in love with Jonathan, but as you so wisely said, I was really in love with the man I thought he was. With you—"
"Enough! You're wrong. Dead wrong." The pain in his leg had edged past screaming to excruciating. He blocked it out. "I didn't deceive you. In fact, I told you things I've never told anyone else. As for seducing you, yes, I wanted you. I've always wanted you, but you were willing. More than willing."
The faint tinge of pink coloring her cheeks encouraged him to cover her hand with his. With a cry, she snatched it back, damn near unmanning him. He took a deep breath and tried once more. "Danni, I meant it when I said I love you. I've always loved you. Maybe I did make mistakes, but if I did, it was because I needed to keep you and Lys safe. It's part of who I am, what I am. If you can't see that, if you can't accept that, then there's no hope for us."
For an instant doubt seemed to shimmer in her eyes before they filled with tears. "There's never been any hope for us, Rafe. On some level I'll always regret that."
He'd lost her. His mind screamed a protest. He couldn't lose her, not when they were so close to having it all. "For God's sake, Danni—"
"Please don't ever contact Lys or me again. You're welcome at the vineyard because it's your home as well as mine, but I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't plan your visit for a time when Lys and I are there. Holidays we can work out somehow."
"Danni, don't do this. Please."
Her smile was bittersweet. "Sorry, your five minutes are up." She turned and fled.
DADDY WITH A BADGE Page 23