* * *
WHEN TUCKER ENTERED THE HOUSE, his mother was waiting in the foyer. She looked her elegant self, but he was reasonably sure she’d tried calling Christian and was concerned.
She hugged him, smiled, searched his face. “You look tired.”
“It’s been a long trip.”
They walked to the staircase, where Tucker left his briefcase, laptop and hat, then went to the kitchen. It was just ten, and he’d skipped breakfast, knowing Irene would want him to eat with her. Leaving Annie behind had been hard, but she’d assured him she needed the time alone.
“You realize,” his mother said, after they both had cups of coffee, “that you haven’t told me if you found her.”
Tucker looked at the spread on the table, all set out and waiting. A fresh fruit salad, all the fixings for the waffles he deduced the housekeeper had put in the oven to keep warm. Most likely next to the crisp bacon. “Let’s eat,” he said. “I’m starving, and it’s a long story.”
Irene went to the stove and pulled out the platters. He found the pitcher of orange juice in the fridge. They fixed their plates as he tried for the hundredth time to come up with an opening line that wouldn’t upset her further.
Finally, after a few bites and verifying that Martha was upstairs changing linen and wouldn’t overhear, he put his hand over his mother’s. He hadn’t realized, until Annie, that he only did that for two women. “I did find her. She was in Montana running a large-animal sanctuary.”
Irene slipped her hand out of his grasp. “It took you all that time to recognize her?”
“No,” he said. “It took me all that time to figure out what’s been going on. I started out looking for the woman. When I got there, I knew I had to search for the truth.”
Tears came to his mother’s eyes. Of course she knew. Not the details, he’d have to give her those in painful doses, but Irene was an intuitive woman. Bali had likely tipped her off. “He’ll never come back, will he?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’d hoped,” she said, using the linen napkin to dab at her tears. “I wanted so much for this to be someone else’s fault. But I left him with Rory, and for all that I’d once loved the man, he had his demons.”
“Mom, please. You did the best you could. There’s a time in every person’s life where they have to stop blaming their upbringing or the circumstances and take responsibility for their actions. Christian’s a grown man. He knows right from wrong. This isn’t about you.”
She tried to smile at him. “I’m his mother, sweetheart. I’ll always be his mother. And he’ll always be the child I left behind.”
* * *
ANNIE HAD TAKEN A BATH, but the jetted water and the space to relax hadn’t helped at all. Her thoughts were going in circles. For every argument to wait for the attorney to come up with a plan, there was a counterargument for her to cut through what would be an unknowable amount of time and take matters into her own hands.
She’d found a leather club chair that fit perfectly when she curled her legs under her, and sipped yet more coffee. The chair faced the big window in the living room, and the panorama of city life spread out before her seemed more like an art exhibit than reality.
It was odd to be alone. How had Tucker become a familiar and comforting presence in such a short time? That she missed him so much surprised and frightened her. Between each chain of thoughts about Christian and the bookies and the law were gaps filled with only one thought on a continuous loop—Tucker loved her.
That was the most astonishing thing of all. It outweighed all the fear and doubt and self-recrimination, and every time she started to think she didn’t deserve him, his voice came to scold her. He was a smart man who knew his own mind. And he knew exactly who she was. All of it. All the things she’d hidden for so long.
Then she’d get back on the cycle of doubt and peddle that sucker until she ran out of steam.
In the end, the deciding factor came down to the fact that he loved her. Ironic, but that was the swing vote. Or perhaps, that she loved him. Either way, she knew what she had to do. For her, for him. For them.
She pulled out her cell, and called the number she’d looked up two years ago but never used.
* * *
TUCKER’S EVERY INSTINCT rebelled at what was happening. Ever since Annie had told him her decision to go directly to the district attorney and offer herself up as a bargaining chip, he’d had to work harder than ever to keep in mind that Annie was her own person. And she had a right to do something he considered unbelievably reckless. That was the trap he couldn’t seem to escape. He, the man who would take a bullet for her, wasn’t the one in control.
And now she was the centerpiece in a sting operation to blackmail the two bookies. Money in exchange for her silence. She’d give them recordings they believed Christian had made, then disappear forever this time. That’s how it was supposed to work.
He’d just spent the most nerve-racking three days of his life. And Annie? Jesus, she was a rock.
“You’re going to be surrounded by our people, Annie. Remember that,” the FBI special agent told her.
Tucker knew Doreen Wellman believed what she said. Which didn’t make it true.
Everyone else―Peter, the assistant D.A. in charge of organized crime, the supervisory special agent who ran the task force trying to nail Dave Bell and Mickey O’Brien, the bookies who’d been running roughshod across New York for over fifteen years—had cleared the room while Agent Wellman checked the wires in Annie’s clothes.
It was something new, nothing like what he’d seen in the movies. This wire was literally the size of a fiber-optic strand, so slender it was sewn into Annie’s bra, virtually invisible. Also untraceable by any technology out there. Or so Tucker had been told.
He wanted to sit back and let events unfold, focus on being supportive, but for Christ’s sake, Annie was walking into a viper’s nest.
As Annie lowered her T-shirt, Agent Wellman leaned back against the desk in the meeting room they’d taken over. “You did great on the phone call,” she said. “You shocked Bell when you said Christian told you what happened to Jefferson Hope. Very few people knew they’d put a hit on their own bagman.”
“If you have evidence, why not take them into custody?” Tucker had promised himself he’d keep his mouth shut. Tough. “Why Annie?”
“Because we can’t use the recording of Annie’s phone call in court. These guys are tricky and they’ve run us in circles. I’m not too proud to say that Annie stepping up now is a godsend. We need to get at least one of them to speak. We’ve fed Annie specific questions to ask them.” She smiled at Annie. “You want to reassure your friend that you know what to say?”
Friend? The word was like a slap to Tucker. They were so much more. He saw in Annie’s eyes that she was thinking the same thing.
She gave him a serene smile. “I warned them on the phone that I have a duplicate set of flash drives in a safe deposit box, and that if anything happens to me, the information will go directly to the police. I’ll remind them as soon as I walk in. They know I’ve disappeared once and think I only came back because I’m broke. It’s perfect, really.”
“Believe me.” Agent Wellman nodded her dark head with confidence. “They’d rather pay the blackmail than take a chance on their empire crumbling.”
Screw her authoritative blue suit and her sensible black shoes and her calm demeanor. Tucker was sweating. And he had a few things to say about the “perfect, really” remark. Later. “Unless they decide she’s bluffing and kill her when she walks in the door.”
“If one of them lifts a weapon we’ll shoot him. We have the best snipers in the country armed with infrared scopes at all windows. It doesn’t matter that the drapes are closed. Right this second, we’re watching them move around that old house. In fact, according to the man who’s in a van a few blocks away, Mickey just went to the toilet. To pee.”
Annie captured his gaze. “I can’t giv
e these people any more of my life,” she said. “Neither can you. I heard Bell’s doubt on the phone. I can’t believe someone could be that good an actor with no warning. He was worried about what I might have on them. He wanted more information, and I’ve memorized everything I’m supposed to say. I’ll be out of there in the blink of an eye, and we’ll be long gone before the world caves in on those bastards. It’s going to be fine.”
“I won’t stop worrying until we’re out of New York, and they’re in jail. But I can’t help asking one more time. Please don’t do this. There has to be another way.”
Annie leaned in for a kiss, and when she pulled back, her relaxed expression made him ache.
“I know you think you’re doing this for all of us.” He touched her hair. “But nothing is worth you getting hurt.”
“I won’t be hurt. When it’s over, I’ll have immunity. I’ll be free, for the first time in over two years. And it’ll open the door for Christian to come home.”
“To jail.”
“That’s true, but at least it’ll probably be at a country club prison in Dallas. For so little time, it’ll give your mother a chance to get to know him before it’s too late. Give you a chance, too.”
“There’s nothing I can do to get you to change your mind?”
She shook her head. “Just be waiting for me when I’m finished, okay?”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
Unfortunately, being where he’d promised turned out to be unimaginable torture. He’d suspected it would be, but waiting in the van three blocks away, putting on the headphones that let him listen to what was happening, only to pull the damn things off...and then repeating the cycle until he’d nearly ripped an ear off, was almost unbearable. It was all he could do not to run out of the friggin’ van, get to her and take her away.
But that wouldn’t happen. They’d reached the point of no return, where anything he might do would put her in even more danger.
There was no doubt in his mind that if his prick of a brother ever came back to the States, Tucker would punch his lights out. How dare he put Annie in this kind of danger.
How dare Tucker let her go.
He moaned, and Agent Wellman brushed his arm in sympathy. She had no idea. None. They were all about the case, the people in the van and on the nearby rooftops of this rough neighborhood. Practically every person on the street was an undercover agent. There was more firepower on this residential street than at FBI headquarters. Or so he’d been assured.
Yes, he knew it was an exaggeration, and even though he’d wanted to deck the person who said it, he’d held his fist close to his body. Although he dared anyone to make one smart remark. He wished someone would.
He stopped breathing the second the door opened, and he could have sworn he didn’t start again for the next ten minutes. He barely moved, didn’t blink, thought he was going to be sick, or at the very least have a heart attack.
Annie was amazing. She played her part as if she’d rehearsed her whole life. The two men were disgusting, which wasn’t a shock...that Tucker managed to not rip a seat out of the van was.
Every minute felt like an hour. Nothing had ever frightened him so deeply. He wasn’t even allowed to see her, only hear her when she climbed into the back of a taxi that wasn’t really a taxi.
He shook on the way back to Times Square, where Annie left the cab. She walked to a small hotel almost hidden by a huge marquee, and went up to her room.
He had to wait until the FBI was certain she hadn’t been followed. Thankfully, they’d detected no wires or bugs or worse in the bag that held the cash.
Finally, when he was about to burst out of his own skin, he was allowed into the room with her. He slammed the door behind him, locked it, bolted it, dragged Annie straight into the tiny bathroom, locked that.
Then he kissed her. Held her so tightly she almost choked, but then she laughed until he kissed her again. And again.
It took a long time for his heart to stop pounding as if it wanted to jump out of his chest.
Epilogue
Two months later...
IT WAS AMAZING TO MAKE the turn to Safe Haven. Annie was smiling like a kid, leaning forward as if she’d never seen the long dusty road.
Tucker laughed at her, but he was grinning pretty hard, himself. “You okay?”
“I think so. It feels like coming home.”
“It is. But I’m hoping that it won’t take you too long to feel that way about the Rocking B.”
“It’s an adjustment, I’ll admit.” She grabbed his hand as the first corral came into view. “A wonderful adjustment.”
By the time they made it to the parking area, she could see the construction going on. The quarantine stable was framed, and some of the walls were up. They weren’t quite as far on the new cabin, but that construction was fancier. It would be a real house, with three bedrooms and two and a half baths. Whoever ended up taking over Safe Haven for good would be happy there. She knew, because she’d seen every stage of the design.
Tucker’s foundation had come through like champions. They’d hired quite a few people from Blackfoot Falls, which was fantastic for the economy, and they hadn’t had to turn away nearly as many horses.
Annie couldn’t wait to see Shea, who had temporarily taken over the reins but shared responsibility for decision making and managing volunteers with Melanie.
“Maybe tomorrow, when we’re not so tired, we can go for a ride, check out the newly plowed field.”
“Yes, absolutely. Tucker, this is so amazing.”
“It’s always going to be yours, you know,” he said, pulling the rented truck into the expanded parking area. She jumped out before he had a chance to undo his seat belt, but she waited for him before she raced to the stable.
Sure enough, that’s where she found Shea. Annie almost pulled her into a hug, but then she remembered they weren’t huggers. Shea just shook her head and followed through. Somehow, Annie wasn’t surprised when her friend and Tucker shook hands.
“So much is happening,” Annie said, trembling with excitement.
“A lot of construction. We’re sending the pregnant mares to the Sundance for the time being. Too much noise.”
“How are you doing, Shea?” Tucker asked. “Is Safe Haven keeping you too busy? You know I can hire someone to come out here full-time.”
“I’m fine, but I was hoping we’d take a look at hiring Kathy and Levi. I think they’d like the work, and could use the money.”
Annie grinned. “That’s a wonderful idea.”
“Now what’s all this about you starting a Safe Haven in Dallas?” It was Melanie.
Annie and Tucker turned to find her taking off her gloves as she walked into the stable.
“Yep. Tucker’s dedicated two hundred acres of Rocking B land for the new sanctuary. We’re designing it from the ground up. It’ll be a teaching facility, as well. Just like here.”
Melanie gave her hand a squeeze. “We miss you.”
“I know. I miss you guys, too.”
“We’re not leaving the planet,” Tucker said. “I do have a plane.”
“Can it hold a horse?”
“No. But I’m going to build a landing strip on the edge of the property so that we can start an animal rescue co-op in central Texas.”
“How long are you staying?” Shea asked.
“Just a couple of days.” Annie pulled Tucker closer, and relaxed as his arm went around her waist.
“We’re going to visit Annie’s folks for a bit.”
“You haven’t seen them yet?”
He shook his head. “We did. But things were more unsettled then. They need a chance to get reacquainted.”
“And to give him a proper third degree,” Annie said.
“Well, as long as we have a couple of days with you, why don’t you two saddle up and come see what’s what?” Shea asked. “Nothing like seeing your dollars at work with your own two eyes, right, Tucker?”
He looked at Annie. She knew he was beat and so was she. They’d really intended to rest when they arrived. She shrugged. “I guess I’m not capable of saying no when I’m here. You can go on inside if you like, and we can ride again tomorrow.”
“Oh, no,” he said. “We’ll sleep in New Jersey.”
She kissed him, right in front of Shea and Melanie and all the horses in the stable. “Don’t count on it.”
* * * * *
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SPECIAL AGENT RYAN VAIL tossed the brochure on the bed. The amazingly comfortable-looking bed, which was a far cry from most of the rat holes he’d been stuck with on various FBI stings and stakeouts. The Color Canyon Resort and Spa was a decadent oasis in the middle of the Las Vegas desert built for people with cash to spend and a yen for excitement and being pampered.
Ryan settled against the headboard, the puffy comforter billowing around him. Straight ahead was a forty-two-inch flat-screen TV. There was a wing chair, a leather love seat, an extravagantly stocked minibar and, if he turned his head to the right, beyond the private patio was a view of a nice little courtyard with a pool and spa pool all in the shadow of the Spring Mountains. It might be February in the rest of the world, but in the Vegas desert it was a balmy seventy-two degrees with copious sunshine on the docket for the rest of the week.
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