Hidden Heat: Hauberk Protection, Book 4
Page 22
“Yeah. I know.” The asshole who’d suggested the threesome and then ignored Sandy’s needs.
“So whenever she was home he’d show up at her parents’, even told her parents that they were still dating. That they were back together. Her mom totally bought into the douche’s act and kept pressuring Sandy to stop dawdling and marry Glen. By then, Sandy’s brothers were getting married and, well, her family and the douche ambushed her. Her mom told her they were going to a Thanksgiving party and it turned out to be a surprise wedding with everyone and their brother there expecting Sandy to be all happy-happy joy-joy of course I’ll marry you, you know?”
“So that’s why she doesn’t like going home.” That made sense.
“And that’s why whenever someone talks about getting serious, she bolts.”
Usually he was the one easing out of relationships. Figured that the first time he got serious, the woman he’d fallen for would be the one to have cold feet. “So what do I do now?”
Jazz shrugged. “Beats me.”
As she disappeared up the stairs, Troy turned to Sam. “Laugh it up, big guy. Must be funny as hell to watch your prediction come true.”
Strangely, Sam didn’t smile. Instead he clapped a hand on Troy’s shoulder and squeezed. “Just hang in there. You’ll figure out somethin’ to win her back.”
He sure as well hoped he would. If he didn’t, that move to London might be in order. Because there was no way in hell he could face going into the office and having to watch Sandy dating others day after day after day, knowing what could have been.
Sipping his glass of brandy, Cooper Davis considered the report Delayna had given to him the week before and weighed the consequences of his plan. It could be risky. The senator had almost as many contacts who could make him disappear as he had. Of course, if he didn’t co-opt the senator, the bill might fail and the Brigade’s funding would evaporate.
He picked up the phone and dialed the number on the yellow note attached to the file. As he’d anticipated, the senator answered the private number on the second ring with his trademark, “Brannally.”
“Good evening, Senator. Are you enjoying that bottle of Courvoisier your wife gave you for your anniversary?”
“Who the fuck is this, and how do you know what I’m drinking?”
“Let’s say I’m a concerned citizen who knows a lot about your private habits. I’ve made it my business.” Davis swirled the amber liquid from his own glass. Was it ironic they liked the same drink, though different brands? “I have a proposition for you that you need to listen to.”
“A proposition?” Concern, and a touch of caution, crept into the senator’s voice. At least he didn’t hang up the phone immediately.
“There’s a bill coming to the House next week that your party is planning on quashing. I need you to make sure it goes through.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t, I’ll ensure the press receives a medical report verifying that you are the biological father of one Colin Fitzgerald, currently known as Troy McPherson.”
“No one will care.”
“I beg to differ. I think there will be at least three people who will find it very interesting. Your wife, for instance. Hasn’t her family money funded your campaigns all these years? I believe she has a prenuptial agreement revoking all access to her contacts and money should it be proven you have committed adultery. Then there’s Colin himself whom you’ve lied to about who you really are.”
“He’ll understand why I had to maintain the ruse.”
Would he? “And how do you think Troy will feel when I point out to him that the timing of your visit to Ireland and his father’s death was more than coincidental.”
He counted the beats before Brannally answered, suspicion rife in his voice. “What are you getting at?”
“You know that he blames himself for his father’s death. You even encourage it. Yet he wasn’t the one who arranged for Paddy’s murder, was he?”
“You have no proof.”
Cooper could have laughed at the confidence the good Senator had. “Yes. I do have proof. And if you don’t cooperate with me, if that bill fails to pass, then I’ll ensure that Troy accidentally meets my contact and learns of your part in his stepfather’s death. And how you let him think he was responsible.”
“It won’t matter to him. He wanted Fitzgerald dead too, otherwise he wouldn’t have ratted him out to the RUC.”
“We both know the RUC weren’t planning on killing Paddy. They wanted to turn him. To use him as a mole. But you couldn’t have that, could you, Senator? Because Paddy knew who Colin’s real father was, didn’t he?” The senator’s silence confirmed Cooper’s guess. “He contacted you after Mary’s death. I’m guessing you saw it as blackmail.”
“He wanted money to get out of Ireland. Said if I didn’t give it to him, he’d go to the press and sell them the story about Mary and her son.”
“So you took care of the matter. With Paddy Fitzgerald out of the way, you spirited young Colin back to the States. You even came up with a fake relative of his mother’s who granted you guardianship of young Colin. Then you kept him away from any nosy reporters while telling yourself it was in his best interest.”
“It was in his best interest. If he’d stayed in Northern Ireland, they would have recruited and trained him as a goddamned terrorist. He’ll forgive me.”
“Perhaps. But I doubt Evan Fitzgerald will be so forgiving that you killed his brother, will he? Especially when I reveal that the men who killed Padraig weren’t RUC but your own men. Did you know that Evan’s still in the terrorist business? Oh, not for the IRA anymore. No, now he’s for hire by whatever group can afford him. And he’s very, very good at his profession.”
The silence grew heavy. “I’ll see what I can do to make sure the bill passes,” Brannally finally said. “But I want your assurance that information never gets out.”
“Oh, you have it. As long as the funding in that bill continues, you have no cause for worry. I will be watching you, Senator. And if you fail to convince your fellow party members, I will make this report public.”
Davis hung up softly and leaned back in his chair, a smile quirking his lips. Sometimes he loved his job.
Chapter Twenty-One
The cuckoo in the clock by the front window whirred and popped out his door. Sandy put down her Kindle and counted each melodic chirp. Ten o’clock. Shouldn’t they have heard something by now?
Rosie and Chad’s wife, Lauren, had shown up at the safe house two hours before with bags filled with take-out Chinese, declaring it a girls’ night out. But as the meet time approached, the happy chatter had gradually grown silent. Sandy eyed Lauren, who sat curled up in a chair by the fireplace, reading a paperback on hostage negotiation, and Rosie, at the far end of the couch, amused herself by playing solitaire on her iPad.
“Is there any danger to them?” Sandy finally let herself ask. “I mean, they’re just waiting for him to show up and then they grab him, right?”
Lauren bookmarked her page and closed the paperback. “It’s always hard to know what’s going on. If they’re lucky, Rowlands walks right into their trap and it’s an easy collar.”
“What if he doesn’t? What if he realizes they’re there?” Jazz asked from where she stood staring out the window.
“Then we find another way to catch him.” Rosie shrugged. “They may have already caught him and now they’re hung up talking to the cops and filling out paperwork. It’s rarely as exciting or dangerous as they show on TV.”
“And not one of them can find the time to send us a text message?” Jazz flopped on her belly on the floor and played with Xander. “I don’t know how you stand it. I’m worried and I’m not even dating any of them the way you two are.”
“Three,” Lauren corrected. “You forgot Sandy is dating Troy.”
“Nope.” Jazz shook her head. “Sandy broke up with Troy this morning.”
T
hree sets of eyes narrowed on Sandy. “I didn’t break up with him. Not really.”
“Uh-uh.” Why wouldn’t Jazz let it go? “From what I hear, Troy asked you to move in with him and you pulled your usual see you later, I’m out of here routine.”
“Sheesh. I was late for work and had to leave instead of discussing it to death, that’s all.”
“That’s a fucking excuse and you know it. You ran, didn’t you? Just like you always run.” Jazz folded her arms and glared. “He didn’t ask you to give up your job or your name or anything. Just asked you to move in with him. But oh no, you go getting your panties in a twist and immediately assume he’s going to tie you down or control you like Glen did when he wouldn’t do that.”
“I did not.”
“Not everyone’s Glen, you know. Troy’s a nice guy and he loves you, yet you kicked him to the curb like he’s a piece of trash.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Anyway, you should talk. We wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t dated Mitch.” She clapped a hand over her mouth as soon as she realized what she’d said.
The color drained from Jazz’s face. “If you care to remember, you were leaving with Mitch before Troy interrupted you. So you can go climb back onto your high horse and go fuck yourself.”
Jazz dashed out of the room, her footsteps echoing down the hallway as she ran up the stairs. The operative assigned to guard Jazz followed her after shooting Sandy a look of annoyance.
“She’s right.” Sandy stood, intending to follow Jazz. She’d been sick with guilt when she’d read Andy’s report outlining how Mitch had abused Jazz. “I was leaving with him that night. It could have been me instead of her.”
“Let Holly calm her down a bit before you go up.” Rosie patted the cushion beside her. “In the meantime, sit down. I think we should talk.”
Shoot. “If this is a talk about how I shouldn’t have gotten involved with Troy in the first place, Sam’s already read me the riot act, okay?”
“I’m not judging you. Heaven knows, I’m not one to talk when it comes to making a commitment. I literally ran away from Sam. All the way to New York.”
“And I ran from Chad,” Lauren added.
“But that was different. I mean, I only heard bits and pieces of the story, but you weren’t sure Sam was over his old girlfriend, right? And Lauren, you didn’t leave Chad willingly, that was Thalia’s doing, right?”
“Either way, we shouldn’t have left the way we did.” Lauren moved from the chair to the other end of the couch. “So is Jazz right? Is Glen a ghost-of-boyfriends-past that’s haunting you and stopping you from getting serious with Troy?”
“Or is Troy just a casual affair?” Rosie asked. “Because that’s totally okay as long as he knew that all along.”
“See, that’s it exactly.” Sandy grabbed at Rosie’s question like a lifeline. “He changed the rules on me. I made it very clear that I wasn’t looking to settle down any time soon and all of a sudden he’s saying he loves me and he wants me to move in with him.”
“Moving in with him doesn’t mean giving up your life or giving up your identity. It means learning more about each other. Finding out the things that may bother you that you wouldn’t know not living with him. Things you need to find out before you say ‘I do’.”
“No. It doesn’t work that way. Once I move in with him, my mom will be all, ‘Oh, Sandy, you should be getting that ring on your finger instead of giving the milk away for free.’ And that’ll be followed by, ‘you’re not getting any younger, you know. You shouldn’t wait too long to give me grandbabies.’ And if there’s ever an argument between me and Troy, she and Gram will take Troy’s side and tell me it’s my responsibility to keep the peace. To keep my man happy. Don’t you see? It’s a slippery slope if I move in with him. First he expects me to give up my own place, then he’ll ask me to marry him and change my name. My identity.”
Which name would she have to take? McPherson? Or Fitzgerald?
Rosie tilted her head as she considered Sandy. “Do you think I’ve given up anything by moving in with Sam? Am I any different than I was before?”
“No?”
“Of course I’m not. I’m the same person I was before. And Troy’s not that much different than Sam. He may be quieter about things, but in reality they’re a lot alike.” Rosie tucked one leg under the other and faced Sandy. “Do you care for Troy? Do you think you could get to the point where you could love him?”
“Yeah. I do.” She did love him. She hated the idea that he might get hurt, or might move back to England where she couldn’t see him every day, but… “I just—”
Rosie’s phone rang. “Hang on.”
Sandy’s stomach did flips when the expression on Rosie’s face turned bland. She’d seen that same look on Sam’s face when he’d heard that Chad had been shot. “What’s happened?”
Rosie held up her hand and shook her head. “Where are they? Thanks, Jake.” She ended the call and hurried to the bottom of the stairs and called for Holly. The agent appeared, a mascara-smudged Jazz trailing her. “A friend of mine from dispatch called. There’s been a situation. We need to get to St. Jerome’s. Can you stay here with Jazz?”
St. Jerome’s Hospital? Oh shit.
Lauren paled and grasped Rosie’s arm. “Who? How bad?”
“I don’t know.” Rosie glanced sideways at Sandy. “All Jake said was that there were several ambulances at the scene.”
No one spoke as Rosie drove at a breakneck pace through the Bethesda streets. The look on Troy’s face as she’d stepped into the elevator that morning burned in her memory. The story of how he’d betrayed his father, something he’d not even told his best friend, should have told her how much he trusted her. He’d told her he loved her without asking her to say it back to him. Yet she’d thrown that trust, his confession of love, back in his face by walking out.
She clutched the armrest as Rosie ran a yellow light and careened around a corner onto the 495 on-ramp. Lauren turned on the radio and fiddled with the switches until she found an all-news channel.
About ten minutes in, the announcer reported a ”breaking news story”’ about a shoot-out in Bethesda. “According to the Maryland Police, there were two fatalities. We’ll have more on the story as we get the details.”
Rosie put her foot to the floor and weaved through traffic in moves worthy of a NASCAR driver.
Two fatalities.
Oh God! What if Troy died thinking she didn’t care about him? Thinking that the one person he’d finally trusted didn’t give a damn. What had she done? What if she never saw him again?
Rosie let them off at the emergency entrance and they raced inside while she parked the car. Chad and Scott rose from a bank of chairs in the darkened waiting room, the television the only light source, washing any color from their faces.
While Lauren slowed and sank into Chad’s embrace, muttering, “Thank God,” Sandy rushed past them looking for any sign of Troy. Scott caught her. “Troy’s been shot but it’s not life threatening. He’s in surgery, but he’s going to be okay. Don’t worry.”
Her knees weak, she clung to his arm. “How bad is it?”
He pressed her into one of the chairs and took her hands in his, squeezing lightly. “He took a bullet to his thigh, which can be serious, but he’s going to come out okay. I promise.”
There was a major blood vessel there, wasn’t there? Unable to get her head around the concept that she’d almost lost Troy, might still lose him, Sandy clutched Scott’s hands like a lifeline.
“What about Sam?” Lauren asked. “Rosie’s coming in once she parks the car. I think she’s pretty freaked.”
Almost as much as Lauren had been, Sandy reckoned.
“Sam’s fine,” Chad assured them, “but he’s still at Sandy’s dealing with the police and the media. He’ll be by as soon as he can get free.”
”Who was killed then? Rowlands?”
”Yeah, him and a shooter w
e haven't identified yet. Andy’s waiting for us up in the surgical waiting room on the fifth floor,” Scott said quietly. “You want to go up there and wait?”
Sandy nodded. Scott wrapped his arm around her waist as they walked down the hall toward the elevators, while Lauren and Chad followed them. A police officer leafed through a magazine while Andy paced, his hair sticking up in every direction.
Sandy’s stomach heaved at the dark stain on his jeans. But whether it was Troy’s blood or one of the other men’s, she didn’t want to know.
“Hey, Andy, any news?” Scott asked.
“A nurse came out a few minutes ago and said they were almost done with Troy.” He looked at Sandy with concern. “How you doing, Sandy?”
Why was everyone so concerned about her when it was Troy lying on an operating room table? She opened her mouth to answer but found she couldn’t so she shook her head and let Scott lead her to one of the chairs.
“What happened anyway? Who shot Troy?”
“The op itself went fine.” Andy ran his hand through his hair. “Rowlands walked right up to the door, not expecting anyone other than Jazz to be waiting for him. We cuffed him and called the cops who arrested him.”
Scott picked up the tale. “We were following the cop taking Rowlands out of the apartment when a guy stepped out of the stairwell and started shooting. Rowlands went down and we returned fire. Before we killed him the shooter’s last shot went wild and hit Troy in the thigh.”
She sat there, images of Troy hurt, pale and bleeding, flooding her mind. Chad and Lauren sat across from her, holding hands. Andy continued to wear a hole in the tiles. When the elevator doors opened and Sam walked out, Rosie looked up from the thumbnail she was worrying and leapt to her feet. “Sam!”