by Kara Lennox
He let her go. Her legs were so shaky they didn’t hold her up, and she crumpled to the floor, gulping in air as she released the breath she’d been holding. If Travis had shown up just one minute later, she would still be Stover’s hostage.
“You think you can take me?” Stover adopted a fighting stance.
Elena realized he wasn’t going to just meekly surrender. He still had a knife. Travis was unarmed.
“You like kitchen knives, don’t you?” Travis said. “Your murder weapon of choice. Is this how it happened with Tammy? She was stringing you along. That day, in the kitchen, she told you it was over. You saw your whole future—all that delicious money she was going to inherit from her grandmother—slipping away, and you lost it. You grabbed a knife and before you knew it... Seventeen stab wounds.”
“The bitch deserved it. She said she was leaving her husband. Then she laughed in my face and said she would never leave an attorney for an unemployed loser like me.”
Good, Travis. Keep him talking. While he’s talking, he’s not cutting anyone.
“Then you realized you could still get the money—by adopting MacKenzie. Easy enough for you to get her into your home. You were already approved foster parents, and MacKenzie knew you. You also could make sure she didn’t tell anyone what she saw that day.”
“Well, aren’t you the smarty-pants,” Stover said. “Too bad you won’t be able to tell anyone. Just how brave are you? Maybe you’ll get the best of me. But you’re sure as hell gonna bleed before it’s all over. Or you could turn tail and run.”
Stover had apparently forgotten Elena. He’d dismissed her as a threat. But she’d be damned if she’d let this maniac carve up Travis like a Halloween pumpkin. Stover stood only a few feet from her. She rose slowly to her hands and knees, then to a squatting position.
His attention fully on Travis, waiting for his opponent to make the first move, Stover wouldn’t see Elena.
Without warning she launched herself at him, screaming like an enraged tigress and tackling him around the legs.
Travis reacted with the reflexes and ferocity of a pit bull. In half a second flat he was straddling Stover’s chest and had the killer’s arm pinned to the floor.
“Let go of the knife!” Travis smashed Stover’s arm against that unforgiving tile floor. Finally Stover dropped the weapon. “I got him, Elena. Are you okay? No, stupid question, you’re not okay. Can you stand up? Can you find a phone and call 911?”
“I’m on it.”
Her phone was lying on the floor in the foyer, along with the rest of the contents of her purse, which had dropped and spilled when Stover had grabbed her. She had to dial with her left hand; her right wrist was swollen up like the Goodyear blimp, and any movement of her fingers caused excruciating pain.
“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?”
“I need the police.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
TRAVIS KEPT CRANING his neck, trying to see Elena. But he didn’t dare move. Stover seemed compliant, defeated even, lying still beneath Travis. But if given a glimmer of daylight, he would get free. The knife still lay only inches from Stover’s hand, but Travis couldn’t help that. He couldn’t let go of anything to grab the knife and throw it out of reach. And he damn sure wasn’t going to ask Elena to come near this sick animal.
He’d nearly had a heart attack when he’d seen Elena in Stover’s grip, a knife at her throat. She’d been beaten; her face had red blotches that would undoubtedly turn into bruises. Her nose had been bleeding, and one of her eyes was nearly swollen shut. The scene was his worst nightmare come to life—exactly the sort of thing he’d been worried about ever since he realized Stover had a vendetta against him.
“Elena?”
She appeared in the kitchen doorway, a phone in her hand. “The police are on their way.” The parts of her face that weren’t bruised were as white as the primer paint on the kitchen wall. “Do you want me to get some rope or something?”
“No. I’ll sit right here until the police arrive.” He didn’t want to risk Stover slithering out of his grasp somehow. Travis was not going to spend any more time looking over his shoulder, wondering how and where Stover was going to strike.
He looked back up at Elena. She was leaning against the door frame, just staring at him. He’d never seen anyone look so frightened. “That was an incredibly brave thing you did—tackling him.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to let him slice up your pretty face.”
“And I wasn’t about to let him hurt you. Hurt you more,” he amended. “What the hell happened?”
“I guess I interrupted his spray-painting party. He wanted to punish you. By killing me.”
If Stover had succeeded, it wouldn’t have just punished Travis. Knowing he’d been the cause of Elena’s death would have destroyed him for good.
Travis wanted to hurt Stover for what he’d done to the woman he loved. He wanted to bash the scumbag’s face in. But he just sat there, holding Stover’s arms, waiting to hear sirens.
It seemed to take forever for the police to arrive. Elena met them at the door and calmly, succinctly, told them what had happened, though at times her voice trembled. Given the extent of her injuries, she made a credible witness. No one was going to doubt she’d been assaulted.
“Then Travis arrived. Stover was going to cut him with the knife, but together we subdued him.” She pointed urgently to Travis and Stover on the kitchen floor, where two cops were already untangling the two men. For a few minutes things were crazy; paramedics were trying to stop Elena’s nosebleed, more cops arrived, yelling at each other and talking on the radio and Stover was screaming his innocence, claiming Elena and Travis were conspiring against him. He tried to make a big deal about the fact that Elena bit him—pretty much the only injury showing on his body.
“Hey,” one of the uniforms said, “did you say your name is John Stover?”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“There’s a warrant out for your arrest.”
“No way, for what? You must have me mixed up with—”
“For murder, Mr. Stover.”
Travis looked to Elena, who was now lying on a gurney while a paramedic splinted her wrist. He wanted to go to her, to be with her. But she was surrounded by a force field of uniforms and medical people.
“Can I take your statement, Mr. Riggs?” a young, plainclothes cop asked politely. A detective, he guessed. No cop had ever treated him with such deference before. Quite a switch.
“Yeah, in a minute.” He maneuvered his way through the sea of khaki and blue until he was standing by Elena’s side. “Elena.”
She turned her eyes to look at him and smiled like an angel. A beat-up angel. “Travis.”
“How are you? Stupid question, you’re doing horrible.”
“No. I’m good. Really good.” She was grinning like a fool. Why was she so happy?
“So, Stover killed Tammy?” Travis asked.
“That’s what I came here to tell you. His prints were on that greeting card. His DNA was under Tammy’s fingernails. Oh, Travis, the governor is issuing Eric a full pardon, even before his conviction is overturned. He should be free in the next few days.”
Travis went suddenly dizzy. “Could you say that again?”
“Eric is going to be a free man.”
“You got Daniel to pull some strings.”
“I did. He...he asked me to come back to work for him.”
“No wonder you’re smiling.”
“No, idiot, that’s not why. I’m happy because you love me.”
“Uh...” Damn it. How could she know that?
“I’m right. Aren’t I?”
“Well you don’t have to be so smug about it.” There was no point in denying the obvious. He’d known he wa
s in love with her on some level, but he hadn’t been ready to admit it—until he’d faced the very real possibility that he would have to live the rest of his life without her. Then it had hit him in the face with more force than that wrench Elena had lobbed at him. He very much wanted her with him.
For the rest of his life.
“Now you’re the one who’s grinning,” she said. “I came over here to tell you in person about Eric—just so I could see your face.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Riggs,” said the polite cop, who’d been hovering nearby, probably making sure Travis and Elena weren’t colluding on the facts. “I really need to take your statement now.”
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
The sooner he got through with this, the sooner he could be with Elena. And prepare for Eric’s release. But mostly be with Elena. Maybe she could find a more compatible mate, someone with education and sophistication and millions of dollars. But she’d never find anyone who loved her more than he did. He would work his tail off to be the best man he could be, the man she deserved.
And for maybe the first time ever, he believed he could be that man. It was partially his fault that Stover got to her in the first place. But working together, they’d stopped him. They’d captured a murderer.
If they could do that, they could do anything.
* * *
ELENA WISHED NOW THAT she hadn’t told her parents what happened—at least until she was released from the emergency room. But her father had called and asked if she wanted to come to dinner. He’d sounded quite conciliatory. But she couldn’t come to dinner, not tonight, because the only way the doctor was going to let her out was if she had an MRI and got the all clear. Apparently she’d hit her head pretty hard at some point during the assault.
So she’d told her father why she couldn’t come, and here he was, hovering over her. Rosalie had brought a plate full of pastelitos and shared them with every patient in the E.R. who was well enough to eat. Meanwhile, her father was pestering the doctors and nurses, making sure she had the best care possible. They put up with it only because he was a doctor himself.
She did look pretty horrible. Even after the nurses had cleaned most of the blood off her face and patched her up, she still could have landed a role in a zombie movie.
“My poor pequeña,” her father said for the tenth time.
“I’m okay, Papa,” she answered, also for the tenth time. “But do pay attention.” She pointed to her face. “This is how a person looks when she’s been kidnapped by a bad man.”
Elmer looked down guiltily. “I know, Elena. You would think, after the way I was harshly judged once upon a time, I would understand something about what men do when they are desperate. I take it your feelings for Travis have not changed?”
“If anything, they’ve grown. You will see. He cares for me, too. He risked his life for me. He could have turned tail and run, called the police from a safe distance. But he was willing to face that knife-wielding maniac when he had no weapon but his hands.”
“Then I believe he has made up for any wrong he might have done. We will consider the slate wiped clean.”
“And...?”
“And...I apologize for acting like a crazy man and causing trouble for Travis with the social worker.”
Elena knew how hard it was for a proud man like her father to admit he was wrong. She squeezed his hand. “Te amo, Papa.”
“I love you, too, pequeña.”
A man clearing his throat snagged their attention. Travis was standing at the entrance to her room. A slow warmth spread through her body at the sight of him; even in her current, sad physical state, she still responded.
Travis and her father locked gazes. “Dr. Marquez,” Travis said deferentially.
“Mr. Riggs. I want to thank you for saving my daughter’s life.” He held out his hand.
Travis took it without hesitation. “It was more of a team effort, really. Elena was incredibly brave.”
“Still... I’ve already apologized for my poor behavior to Elena, but I must say it to you, too. I know now that what I did jeopardized the well-being of a little girl.”
“You were only trying to protect your little girl,” Travis said gruffly.
“Then I hope we can start over, you and I.”
“I’d like that.”
Elena’s heart felt as if it had grown wings. To see the two men she loved most in the world coming to terms, shaking hands... Well, it gave her hope. Lots of hope.
“Papa, can you give Travis and me a few moments?”
“Of course. I will go find your mother. Last I saw, she had found a patient with a broken jaw and was talking her ear off because the poor thing can’t talk back.” He nodded one last time to Travis and left.
Travis pulled up the single plastic chair in the room and sat down close to her bed. He took her uninjured hand in his. “How do you feel?”
“Fantastic.”
“Liar.”
“No, really, I do. Seeing you and Papa shake hands like that... It was the best medicine in the world.”
“Will you stay in the hospital?”
“Not if I can help it.” She told him about the test results she was waiting for, which only made him look more worried. “I’m fine, really. It’s just a precaution.”
“Will you go back to Daniel’s?”
“It’s where I live now. I moved back in, and he needs me.”
“I see. I guess you’ll be well cared for there.”
“Did you have another idea?”
“I was thinking I would take care of you. I had this picture in my head of me bringing you breakfast in bed, drawing you a bath, helping you dress and...undress. How are you going to do all the things Daniel needs you to do when your arm is broken? I’ve got a perfectly good guest room—”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“That sounds much better than staying at Daniel’s. And you’re right, I won’t be able to do my job. It’s okay, though, Daniel has people who can fill in. But you have to promise me something. Two things, actually.”
“Anything.”
“I don’t want you to neglect your work. You’ve got some spray paint to deal with.”
“I promise. What’s the second thing?”
“I don’t want to stay in the guest room.”
“Are you saying you want to live with me? Like, really live together?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“No.”
“Oh.” She drooped with disappointment. She’d expected some resistance, but not a flat-out no.
“Not without a wedding ring. I expect your father would not look too kindly on us shacking up without the benefit of a marriage license. And, frankly, I don’t want to get on his bad side again.”
“Did you just... Was that a—”
“A marriage proposal. Yes, it was. I was planning to wait until you were better, maybe take you out to a nice place, get down on one knee, the whole nine yards. I might have even worn a tie. But I can’t wait that long for your answer. Elena Marquez, I love you with all my heart, and I’m sorry it took me so long to get to the place where I could admit it, where I could take the risk of going after what I want. But you were right all along. I deserve to be happy like anyone else. And you, Elena, would make me the happiest man on earth—”
“Yes!” she shrieked, earning a stern look from a passing nurse. She giggled giddily. Maybe it was the meds they’d given her, but she suspected it was just sheer, unadulterated joy.
She clamped a hand over her mouth. “Yes,” she whispered between her fingers. He didn’t have to take her to a fancy restaurant or give her flowers or a big diamond ring. All he had to do was be there for her, just as she would be for him. “We are going to have the most beautif
ul babies.”
“If they all look like you, yeah. A houseful of babies, if you want. And I’ve been thinking... I’d understand if you wanted to keep working for Daniel. But if you’re still set on trying something new, how would you like to help me expand my business? I’m going to have to earn more money to put all those future babies through college.”
“Really? I can be your business manager?”
“Full partner. Fifty-fifty. We’ll make enough that you can still send money to your relatives in Cuba.”
She was so touched that he’d even considered that. But she wasn’t too worried about her relatives. Her father sent money to them, too.
“It’s gonna be a lot of work,” Travis said. “We’ll have to get computerized.”
“It’ll be fun. I can’t wait to get started.”
“When you’re feeling better. No rush.”
“I could not feel any better than I feel right now.”
* * *
CHRISTMAS EVE AT the Logan estate was always a celebration to remember. Usually Daniel threw a big party—invited all the employees of Project Justice and Logan Energy, hired a live band, spent a fortune on decorations. This year, however, he and Jamie had decided to keep the holiday more low-key—just a few friends, a cozy fire, good food and mulled cider.
A few weeks ago, Elena had begun planning a more elaborate affair. But given all that had happened—and the fact that while she recuperated from her injuries, she wasn’t up to the complex logistics of a big party—Daniel had opted for the scaled-back affair, something he could trust the imposing Mrs. Drury to handle.
Missy, having calmed down considerably after the big blowup, had allowed Travis and Elena to visit MacKenzie.
MacKenzie was shy; she hadn’t warmed up to Elena right away. In fact, she’d hardly said a word during that first visit, preferring to sit in Travis’s lap with her thumb in her mouth and let him read to her.
But this evening, after a bit of legal finagling, MacKenzie had been released into Elena’s care, and the little girl seemed happy enough to climb into the Town Car Daniel had provided them. All of her worldly belongings were packed into a tiny suitcase; by the time Missy had removed her from the Stovers’ home, she’d had none of the clothes and toys Eric had bought her.