by Amelia Autin
“How do you know that?”
A faint smile touched his lips. “Because I sent a couple of men down there yesterday to shadow them.”
She stared at him. “You did?”
“You think I’d have told the McCays yesterday where you were if I didn’t have eyes on them? You think I’d have left you here today—even with Annabel and Sam—if I didn’t know exactly where the McCays were at all times?” He laughed under his breath. “What kind of PI do you take me for, Holly?” He held up one hand when she started to speak, and joked, “No, don’t answer that.”
Holly’s lips curved in a smile as she walked toward Chris. “But I want to answer the question,” she said when she was close enough to touch him. Her fingers brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, then trailed lightly down, coming to rest on his shoulder. “I think you’re incredible. Amazing. There aren’t words to describe you. I thank my lucky stars the McCays hired you to find me, because I’d be in a world of hurt if it had been anyone else.”
His slow smile rewarded her. “You’d have managed somehow,” he said. “You’re a fighter—no way would you ever surrender. I knew that from the minute I entered your room in the rooming house. That’s what I lo—”
Chris stopped midsentence when the sound of bedroom doors opening down the hallway and questions asked and answered between Sam and Annabel suddenly intruded on their conversation.
Holly rarely cursed—it hadn’t been acceptable in her home growing up as the daughter of missionaries. But if she did curse, she would have just then. She would have given anything to know what Chris had intended to say. Love? As in, “that’s what I love most about you”?
But she couldn’t bring herself to ask, especially since Chris had already turned toward his sister and brother. “Well, if it isn’t Beauty and the Beast, finally awake,” he drawled.
“Bite me.” Sam obviously wasn’t of a sunny disposition when he first woke up.
Annabel elbowed Sam. “What makes you think you’re the Beast?”
Chris turned his head and his eyes met Holly’s, a glint of humor in them. “And there you see why Ridge is a better choice than ‘don’t you dare call me beautiful’ Annabel and ‘don’t call me a beast even though I am’ Sam.”
“I think I’m missing something here,” Sam growled.
Holly laughed. “Let’s have lunch and I’ll explain.”
* * *
Holly went to her bedroom after lunch to call her sons—“Keep away from the windows,” Chris told her in no uncertain terms.
“I will.”
Chris watched her go. Part of him wished they hadn’t been interrupted earlier, but another part was glad. He hadn’t intended to say anything to Holly yet—not while she still needed his protection. He’d already had one tussle with his conscience over making love to Holly while he was guarding her—he didn’t want her to think there was some kind of quid pro quo going on, that he expected sex in exchange for looking after her and her sons. And he’d had no intention of telling her how much he loved her until she was free to make a decision without the threat of murder hanging over her head.
But somehow, when Holly had smiled at him, when she’d touched him and told him he was incredible and, oh yeah, amazing, the words of love had almost come tumbling out despite his best efforts.
Annabel jabbed Chris in the ribs to get his attention, her tone caustic. “Wake up there.”
“Ouch!” Chris rubbed his ribs. “Darn it, Bella,” he complained. “You still have the sharpest elbows of anyone I’ve ever known, even if you are my favorite sister over thirty.”
“I’m your only sister over thirty,” she retorted.
“Darn it?” Sam raised his eyebrows in a question Chris wasn’t about to answer.
He headed for his office, with Annabel and Sam right behind him. “Before we get caught up in the sting,” he said as soon as they sat down, “I want to run something by you two.”
He recounted his conversations with Trevor, Brad and the reporter for the Dallas Morning News. He reminded them of what Lizzie had said about Josie back in February. Then he gave them the conclusions he’d drawn. “Am I way off base here?” he asked. “Or does my theory fit all the facts as we know them?”
Sam glanced at Annabel, who nodded. “Your logic is sound,” he told Chris. “But the only way to know for certain is to track Josie down and see what she says.”
“Trevor might be able to help there,” Annabel said. “If Josie really is in the Witness Security Program, the FBI is in a better position to approach the US Marshals Service. Let’s see what he can shake loose.”
Chris ruthlessly suppressed the tiny flare of jealousy triggered by Trevor’s name. Annabel was right—Trevor was in a better position than Chris to take the investigation into Josie’s disappearance to the next level. Yeah, Chris had been searching for his baby sister for years, but it really didn’t matter who ultimately solved the mystery. Bringing Josie safely home was more important than his ego. “You’re right,” he told Annabel. “As soon as we wrap up this case, I’ll talk to Trevor.”
Holly walked into the office with a smile on her face, and Chris couldn’t help it—his eyes softened at the sight of her. Then he caught Annabel watching him, and he quickly schooled his expression into one of pure professionalism. “Everything okay with the twins?”
“Fine, but Peg says they’re starting to fret over the least little thing. Which means—”
“They’re missing you something fierce.” He and Holly shared a private smile.
“I shouldn’t want them to,” she confessed. “But I do. I want them to miss me.” She glanced at Annabel. “Does that make me a bad mother?”
Annabel chuckled. “No, it makes you a perfectly normal mother.”
Chris brought his mind back with an effort to the reason they were all here, and said, “Let’s get everything nailed down—who’s going to do what. Planning ahead is half the battle.”
Fifteen minutes later Chris had laid out his plan in detail. “Any questions?”
He glanced from Sam, who shook his head, to Annabel, who did the same, and finally to Holly. “Got it,” she said.
“My men tracking the McCays already called from the road. We’ll know in advance almost to the minute when they’ll arrive, so no worries there. My men will turn off before they get here—we don’t want to spook the McCays, let them know they’re being followed. I’ll have them double back afterward, although I don’t think we’ll need them. But just in case...”
* * *
Just like the morning had, the afternoon dragged. Holly just wanted it over—she was unexpectedly calm about the upcoming confrontation with her in-laws, but she wanted it to be past tense.
Everyone, it seemed, had something to keep their minds distracted—except her. Sam read the morning newspaper he’d brought with him. Annabel had another police procedural textbook she soon became engrossed in. And Chris worked on his computer, answering a string of emails. Holly felt a twinge of guilt. Chris had a business to run after all. He’d made her case his top priority, but that didn’t mean everything else came to a screeching halt. She wanted to ask him about the notes he’d left in the middle of the desk, but she didn’t—for two reasons. She didn’t want to interrupt him, and she didn’t want him to think she’d been snooping. She wasn’t sure which reason reigned supreme.
Holly sat on the floor stroking Wally, who lay in a contented heap at her side. And she wondered if Chris would let her take Wally back with her to Clear Lake City...assuming she went back. Assuming something didn’t go wrong this afternoon. Assuming Chris didn’t love her.
Chapter 20
At six minutes past three, Chris’s cell phone rang, and he closed his laptop. He answered his cell phone, listened for several seconds, then said, “Thanks, Matt. Tell Andy the sam
e from me...No, I think we’ve got it covered, but just in case, have Andy double back and park about a quarter mile before the driveway leading to the house. You can’t see that part of the road from the house, so the McCays won’t know you’re there. If you don’t hear from me in...oh...fifteen minutes, assume the worst and come to our rescue. But be careful—”
He broke off sharply, and Holly knew he could hear the same thing she did—the sound of a car pulling up in front of the house. “They’re here. Gotta go.”
Holly scrambled to her feet and wiped her suddenly sweaty palms on the sides of her jeans. Annabel and Sam were already moving purposefully to their assigned places—Sam to the coat closet near the front door and Annabel secreted behind the door in the kitchen.
The doorbell rang a minute later. Chris grabbed Holly’s arm, pulling her back as she started to leave the office to answer the door. “We’re right here,” he reminded her.” But worry etched furrows in his face. “If there was any other way, I—”
She put her fingers on his lips to stop him from completing that sentence. “I know,” she said, her earlier calm returning. “But there isn’t another way. And I won’t let them get away with it this time.”
The doorbell rang again, sounding somehow impatient, and Holly looked Chris directly in the face. “I love you,” she said quietly. “If anything happens— I know you’ll do your best, but... Anyway, I wanted you to know.” She turned and walked out without waiting for a response, Wally at her heels.
* * *
Chris swore under his breath. Damn Holly for choosing that moment to tell him she loved him, when he couldn’t do a thing about it. And damn her for walking out before he could tell her he loved her, too. That he couldn’t imagine life without her. That there was no way—no way—she was dying on his watch.
Gun drawn, he double-checked the switches on the two hidden cameras in the living room, making sure the cameras were rolling—the different angles would ensure at least one would capture whatever the McCays tried to do. Then he did the same for the voice-activated recorder. The wireless microphones were already set up, just waiting to record every word the McCays said.
He pulled the door to the office nearly shut, listening intently. Time seemed to stretch out, and he could hear Holly clearly as she opened the door and exclaimed, “Angus! Evalinda! How did you find— I mean, how lovely to see you.”
Chris smiled grimly. Holly was playing it perfectly—acting surprised to see the McCays, but also acting as if she had no idea they were there to kill her. If the McCays were innocent, the first thing they’d ask was why Holly had run away with her sons six months ago. But they never asked...because they already knew the answer.
“Come into the living room,” Holly invited.
This was the most dangerous moment, Chris knew. He’d theorized earlier that the McCays wouldn’t just open fire the minute they saw Holly. That they’d make sure she was alone in the house before they started blasting. But theories were one thing. The woman he loved turning her back on her murderous in-laws as she led them into the living room was another thing entirely. He took comfort in the fact that Sam should be able to see everything from his vantage point in the closet, which was cracked open. And if one or both of the McCays reached for a gun...
“Where are the boys?” Angus asked.
Chris shifted slightly for a better viewing angle. Nice job! he told Holly in his mind as she seated the McCays on the living room sofa, directly in his line of sight—and right in the field of vision of each camera. She disappeared from his view, and he knew she was sitting in one of the armchairs across from her in-laws, exactly as planned.
“They’re not here right now,” Holly replied. “They have a playdate with friends—Susan and Bobby. Their mom and I take turns having playdates for the children.” She laughed easily, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “It gives both of us a little free time to ourselves. And you know how it is with small children, Evalinda. Much as you love your children, sometimes you just need to be alone.”
“So you’re alone in the house?” Evalinda McCay asked sharply. Chris saw Mrs. McCay’s hand reaching into her capacious purse, and he readied himself to launch.
“Yes, I’m alone. Except for Wally here.” Chris couldn’t see Holly, but he imagined she was patting the dog’s head. “Why do you ask?”
Even if Chris hadn’t seen the gun come out, Wally’s sudden growl would have warned him.
“You should never have opposed us,” Evalinda McCay said, as matter-of-factly as if she were discussing the weather.
“What are you— No, Wally,” Holly said when Wally’s growls deepened. “What do you think you’re doing, Evalinda? I’m your daughter-in-law. The mother of your grandchildren. Why are you—”
Regret was evident in Angus McCay’s voice when he explained, “I’m sorry, Holly. We didn’t want to do this, but you left us no choice.”
“Is it money? Do you need money?” Holly’s voice held just the right panicked note. “I have Grant’s insurance money. I’ll be happy to share it with you, if you—”
Evalinda McCay laughed, but it was an ugly sound. “That pittance?”
“Not a pittance,” Holly insisted. “Half a million dollars. If you had told me, I—”
“We want the money Grant put into a trust for Ian and Jamie,” Evalinda McCay stated viciously. “That damned unbreakable trust. The only way to get our hands on that money is to get custody of the twins. And the only way that’s going to happen is if you’re out of the picture.”
“You’d kill me for money?” Holly’s disbelief sounded like the real thing.
“You turned Grant against us. You convinced him to leave us out of his will.” Chris saw the evil smile that tugged at the corners of Mrs. McCay’s mouth. “So killing you will be a pleasure, not just a necessity.”
“I didn’t!” Holly insisted. “Grant did that all on his own, I swear!”
Wally’s growls were nearly ferocious now, and Chris imagined Holly was having difficulty holding the dog back. Good boy! he thought. Protect Holly!
“It doesn’t matter either way,” Evalinda McCay said. “But don’t worry. We’ll take good care of Ian and Jamie...for now. Everyone will be convinced—just as that stupid private investigator was convinced—that we’re loving grandparents who only have our grandsons’ best interests at heart.” She sighed with mock regret. “You’ll be the victim of a terrible home invasion. Thank goodness the twins weren’t here when it happened! We’ll play the grieving grandparents to the hilt, stepping in to care for our orphaned grandchildren.” Evalinda McCay was obviously already getting into the role.
She stood suddenly. “Now get up. Slowly. I can make this easy, or hard. If you try to run...I’ll have to shoot you quickly. The first bullet might not be fatal.” The evil smile was back. “But I’ll make sure you’re dead before I leave, Holly. Count on it.”
“Police! Freeze!” Annabel and Sam’s voices rang out almost simultaneously, using the exact same words.
Chris burst through the library door, his one thought to get to Holly before Evalinda McCay fired. But Wally was there before him. With one last growl the dog pulled away from Holly’s restraining hold and leaped for the hand holding the gun. His jaws closed on Evalinda McCay’s wrist and jerked, so the bullet went wide.
“On the ground!” Sam ordered, wrestling a shocked Angus McCay down, then cuffing him with his hands behind his back.
Annabel was doing the same to Evalinda McCay, who was moaning in agony. She’d already dropped the gun and was holding her bleeding wrist, where Wally’s teeth had broken the skin and nearly broken her bones.
“You’re under arrest for attempted murder,” Annabel intoned, then began reciting the Miranda warning to both McCays. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a cour
t of law...”
She reached the end and said, “Do you wish to talk to us now?”
“Go to hell!” snapped Evalinda McCay. “This is entrapment! And police brutality. My wrist is broken, and these cuffs are making it worse.”
Annabel listened politely, then said, “We’ll stop off at the hospital to have your wrist x-rayed. But you’re still under arrest.”
Long before the McCays had been cuffed, Chris had enfolded Holly in his arms, his gun still drawn. She was trembling—aftereffect, he knew—and his arms tightened. “It’s okay,” he told her.
“She was really going to kill me,” Holly whispered as Annabel and Sam led the McCays away in handcuffs.
“Yeah, but you already knew that.” Chris pulled back just long enough to holster his weapon, then his arms closed around her again.
Wally was bounding around the room in excitement, following the prisoners and, when the front door closed behind them, snuffling enthusiastically around Holly’s and Chris’s legs.
Holly extricated herself from Chris’s arms and knelt to embrace the dog. “Good boy, Wally!” she praised. “I knew I could count on you.”
Chris crouched down to ruffle Wally’s fur in silent affirmation of the dog’s heroic actions. “What about me?” he asked Holly.
Her unexpected smile warmed his heart. “I knew I could count on you, too.”
He could have stayed like that forever, except he suddenly remembered something. “Oh, cra—crud,” he amended, rising to his feet and whipping out his cell phone. He clicked quickly between screens and hit the callback button. “Matt? We’re good here. Sam and Annabel put the McCays under arrest for attempted murder and are taking them to jail with a short detour to the hospital. You and Andy are done for the day, and there’ll be a special bonus in your next paycheck—you’ve earned it. I’ll talk to you both tomorrow.”
Holly was still kneeling beside Wally, and after Chris disconnected, he helped her to her feet. “You and I have some talking to do,” he told her.