"We can take it, lover. Especially for twice our usual fee." Her voice faded a bit as she walked toward the opposite bedroom. "I think it was a good idea to arrange for dinner up here. The more grateful and emotional they are, the less they'll think. Once they have the kid, they won't question anything."
"Harriet's thoughts exactly. She already has Ethan putting the wheels in motion. I was surprised when she came down to take a look at them for herself, but she's a little more cautious since the Frost affair."
Mel kept her breath slow and even. She pressed her fingers against the stone of her ring. Communication between people who are important to each other, she remembered, and shut her eyes. Well, here's hoping. Come on, Donovan, get your butt up here and bring the marines.
It was risky, she knew, but she thought the odds were in her favor. Reaching into her bag, she felt the comforting bulk of her weapon. Not that way. She took a deep, bracing breath and put the account book in instead of taking the revolver out. She set her bag on the floor, then opened the closet.
"They'll pass the merchandise to our contact in Chicago," Gumm was saying.
"I'd like to pick him up in Albuquerque," Linda put in. "I could always use an extra couple of thousand for the run." Her head snapped up as Mel deliberately bumped a chair. "What the hell?"
Gumm was in the room like a shot, twisting the struggling Mel's arms behind her. "Let me go! Jasper, you're hurting me."
"People who break into other people's homes often get hurt."
"I-I was just lying down for a while." She made her eyes dart crazily to make the lie all the more ridiculous. "I didn't think you'd mind."
"What have we got here?" Linda asked.
"A plant. I should have known. I should have smelled it."
"Cop?" Linda considered.
"Cop?" Eyes wide with alarm, Mel twisted. "I don't know what you're talking about. I was just resting."
"How'd she get in?" Jasper demanded, and Mel let the key she was holding slip out of her hands.
"Mine." Swearing in disgust, Linda bent to pick it up. "She must have palmed it."
"I don't know what-" Jasper cut off Mel's protest with a backhand that left her head ringing. She decided it was time to drop one act for another.
"Okay, okay, you don't have to play rough." She shuddered and swallowed audibly. "I'm just doing my job."
Jasper shoved her into the parlor and onto the sofa. "Which is?"
"Look, I'm just an actress. I took a gig with Donovan. He's a PI." Stall, Mel thought. Stall, stall, stall, because he was coming. She knew he was. "I only did what he told me to do. I don't care what you're into. And I got an appreciation for a good scam."
Gumm moved to the desk and took a pistol from the top drawer. "What are you doing in here?"
"Man, you don't need that," she said, swallowing. "He said I should get the key and come up to look around. He thought there might be some papers in the desk there." She gestured toward the ebony desk. "It seemed like a real kick, you know. And he's paying me five grand for the job."
"A two-bit actress and a PI," Linda said furiously. "What the hell do we do now?"
"What we have to do."
"Look, look, you say the word and I'm out of here. I mean out of the state." Mel tried for a tawdry kind of charm. "I mean, it was great while it lasted, the clothes and all, but I don't want any trouble. I didn't hear anything, I didn't see anything."
"You heard plenty," Gumm countered.
"I got a bad memory."
"Shut up," Linda snapped, and Mel shrugged.
"We'll have to contact Harriet. She's back in Baltimore seeing to the details of the last job." Gumm ran his hands through his hair. "She's going to be very unhappy. She'll have to call off the nurse. We can't take a kid without a buyer."
"Twenty-five thousand down the tubes." Linda sent Mel a look of avid dislike. "I was actually pretty fond of you, Mary Ellen." She walked over to lean into Mel's face, squeezing a hand around her throat. "As it is now, I'm going to get a lot of satisfaction out of letting Jasper take care of you."
"Hey, listen-"
"Shut up." She shoved Mel back. "You'd better arrange for someone to do it tonight. And to pick up the PI, too. I think a little spat in their house, maybe. A nice murder-suicide."
"I'll take care of it."
At the knock on the door, Mel made to scramble up and as expected had Linda clamp a hand over her mouth.
"Room service, Mr. Gumm."
"The damn dinner," he muttered. "Take her in the other room and keep her quiet. I'll handle this."
"A pleasure." Linda took the gun Gumm handed her and gestured Mel into the next room.
Smoothing back his hair, Gumm went to the door, then gestured for the waiter to roll in the room-service tray. "Don't bother to set up. Our guests haven't arrived yet."
"Yes, they have." Sebastian strolled in. "Jasper, I'd like you to meet Special Agent Devereaux. FBI."
In the next room, Linda swore and Mel grinned. "Excuse me," she said politely, tramped hard on Linda's foot and knocked the gun aside.
"Sutherland," Sebastian said with restrained fury from the doorway. "You've got some explaining to do."
"In a minute." To please herself, she turned and rammed her fist into Linda's astonished face. "That one was for Rose," she said.
He wasn't happy with her. Sebastian made that abundantly clear through the rest of that evening, through all the explanations. Devereaux wasn't exactly thrilled himself, though she thought it was small-minded of him, since she'd all but wrapped the evidence in a bow and handed it to him.
Sebastian had a right to be annoyed, she supposed. She'd acted on her own. But she was the professional. Besides, it had worked out exactly as she'd planned, so what was his problem?
She asked him just that several times, as they packed up for the trip home, as they flew back to Monterey, as he dropped her off at her office.
His only answer was one of his long, enigmatic looks. The last thing he said to her left her miserable and silent.
"I kept my word, Mary Ellen. You didn't. As a matter of trust, it comes down to that."
That had been two days before, she thought as she brooded at her desk. And there hadn't been a peep from him since.
She'd even swallowed her pride and called him, only to get his answering machine. It wasn't that she felt she owed him an apology, exactly. But she did think he deserved another chance to be reasonable.
She toyed with the idea of going to Morgana or Anastasia and asking them to intercede. But that was too weak. All she wanted to do was to put things back on an even keel between them.
No, no, she wanted much more than that, Mel admitted. And that was what was killing her.
Only one way to do it, she told herself, and kicked back from her desk. She would hunt him down, pin him to the wall if necessary, but she would make him listen to her.
All the way along the winding mountain road she practiced what she would say and how she would say it. She tried being tough, experimented with being quiet and solemn, and even took a shot at being penitent. When that didn't sit well, she opted for aggressive tactics. She'd just march right up to his door and tell him to cut out the silent routine. She was tired of it.
If he wasn't there, she'd wait.
He was there, all right, she discovered as she reached the top of his lane. But he certainly wasn't alone. There were three other cars in the drive, including what appeared to be the longest stretch limo in the known world.
She stepped out of her car and stood beside it, wondering what to do next.
"I told you, didn't I tell you?" Mel looked around and spotted a pretty woman in a flowing tea-length dress. "A green-eyed blonde," she said, a definite smack of satisfaction in her Irish voice. "I told you something was bothering him."
"Yes, dear." The man beside her was tall and gangly, his graying hair receding into a dramatic widow's peak. He looked rather dashing in jodhpurs and top boots. A Victorian quizzing glass dangle
d from a string around his neck. "But it was I who told you it was a female."
"Nevertheless." The woman glided across the grounds with both plump hands held out to Mel. "Hello, hello, and welcome."
"Ah, thanks. I'm, ah, looking for-"
"Of course you are," the woman said with a breezy laugh. "Anyone could see that, couldn't they, Douglas?"
"Pretty," he said in response. "Not a pushover." He peered at her with eyes that were so much like Sebastian's that Mel began to put two and two together. "He didn't tell us about you, which speaks for itself."
"I suppose," she said after a moment. His parents, she thought, sinking. A family reunion was no place for a confrontation. "I don't want to disturb him when he has company. Maybe you could tell him I stopped by."
"Nonsense. I'm Camilla, by the way. Sebastian's mother." She took Mel's arm and began to lead her toward the house. "I quite understand your being in love with him, my dear child. I've loved him myself for years."
Panicked, Mel looked for a route of escape. "No, I-That is- I really think I should come back later."
"No time like the present," Douglas said, and gave her a friendly nudge through the door. "Sebastian, look what we've brought you." He brought the glass to his eye and peered around owlishly. "Where is that boy?"
"Upstairs." Morgana breezed in from the direction of the kitchen. "He'll be- Oh, hello."
"Hi." The frost on the greeting told Mel it had been a bad idea to come. "I was just- leaving. I didn't realize your family was visiting."
"Oh, they drop in now and again." After she took one long look into Mel's eyes, Morgana's smile wanned. "Stepped in it, did you?" she murmured. "That's all right. He'll come around."
"I really think I should-"
"Meet the rest of the family," Camilla said gaily and kept Mel's arm in an iron grip as she marched her toward the kitchen.
There were glorious scents in the air, and roomsful of people. A tall, queenly woman was laughing raucously as she stirred something on the stove. Nash was on a stool beside a lean middle-aged man with steel-gray hair. When the man glanced up at her, she felt like a moth on a pin.
"Hey, Mel." Nash sent her a wave, and she was thrust into the fray. Introductions followed, Camilla taking charge territorially.
"My brother-in-law, Matthew," she began, gesturing to the man beside Nash. "My sister Maureen at the stove." Maureen waved an absent hand and sniffed at her brew. "And my sister, Bryna."
"Hello." A woman every bit as stunning as Morgana stepped forward to take Mel's hand. "I hope you're not too befuddled by all this. We all dropped in quite unexpectedly just this morning."
"No, no, really. I don't want to intrude. I should really just-"
Then it was too late. Sebastian walked in, flanked by Ana and a short, husky man with twinkling eyes.
"Ah, Sebastian." Bryna kept Mel's hand. "More company. Mel, this is Padrick, Ana's father."
"Hello." It was easier to look at him than Sebastian. "Nice to meet you."
He strolled right up and pinched her cheek. "Stay for dinner. We'll put some meat on your bones. Maureen, my moonflower, what is that tantalizing scent?"
"Hungarian goulash."
Padrick winked at Mel. "And not a single eye of newt in the batch. Guaranteed."
"Yes, well, I appreciate the invitation, but I really can't stay." She took a chance and glanced at Sebastian. "I'm sorry," she fumbled when he just continued to gaze at her with those quiet, inscrutable eyes. "I shouldn't have- I mean, I really should have called first. I'll catch you later."
"Excuse us," he said to the group at large, gripping Mel's arm as she tried to dash by. "Mel hasn't seen the foal since the birthing."
Though she knew it was cowardly, she shot one desperate glance behind her as he pulled her out of the door. "You have company."
And that company moved as a unit to the kitchen window to watch the goings-on.
"Family isn't company," he said. "And, since you've come all this way, I have to believe you have something to say."
"Well, I do, and I'll say it when you stop dragging me."
"Fine." He stopped near the paddock where the foal was busily nursing. "Say it."
"I wanted to- I talked to Devereaux. He said Linda copped a plea and spilled everything. They've got enough on Gumm and the Breezeports to put them away for a long time. They've got a line on a handful of others, like Silbey, too."
"I'm aware of all that."
"Oh, well, I wasn't sure." She stuck her hands in her pockets. "It's going to take some time to locate all the children, and get them back where they belong, but- It worked, damn it," she blurted out. "I don't know what the hell you're so bent out of shape about."
His voice was deceptively mild. "Don't you?"
"I did what I thought was best." She kicked at the ground, then strode over to the fence. "They'd already made plans to snatch another kid. It was right in the book."
"The book you went in and found. On your own."
"If I'd told you what I was going to do, you'd have tried to stop me."
"Wrong. I would have stopped you."
She frowned back at him. "See? By doing it my way, we saved a lot of heartache."
"And risked more." The anger he'd been struggling to hold back flared. "There was a bruise on your cheek."
"A qualified job risk," she shot back. "And it's my cheek."
"Good God, Sutherland. She had a gun on you."
"Only for a minute. Hell, Donovan, the day I can't handle a sap like Linda Glass is the day I retire. I'm telling you I just couldn't take the idea of them snatching another baby, so I went with the gut." Her eyes were so eloquent, some of his anger died. "I know what I'm doing, and I also know it seems like I was cutting you out. But I wasn't. I called you."
He took a calming breath, but it failed to work. "And if I'd been too late?"
"Well, you weren't, so what's the point?"
"The point is, you didn't trust me."
"The hell I didn't. Who else was I trusting when I stood in that closet and tried to use the ring or whatever connection we had to get you and the feds up there? If I hadn't trusted you, I would've slipped right out the door with the book." She grabbed at his shirt and shook him. "It was because I trusted you that I played it out that way. Staying there, letting them catch me-because I knew I could trust you to back me up. I tried to explain it all to you before. I knew they'd tell me things Devereaux could use, and with the book as a backup, we'd have them cold."
Steadying himself, he turned away. As angry as he was, he saw the truth in that. Perhaps it wasn't the kind of trust he'd wanted, but it was trust. "You could have been hurt."
"Sure. I could be hurt every time I take a case. That's what I do. That's what I am." She swallowed, struggling to clear an obstruction in her throat. "I had to accept you, and what you are. And believe me, it was no snap. If we're going to be- friends, the same goes."
"You may have a point. But I still don't like your style."
"Fine," she snapped back, blinking her vision clear. "Same goes."
At the kitchen window, Camilla shook her head. "He always was stubborn."
"Ten pounds she wears him down." Padrick pinched his wife's bottom affectionately. "Ten pounds and no tricks."
Ana shushed him. "We won't be able to hear."
Mel let out a shaky breath. "Well, we know where we stand anyway. And I'm sorry."
"Excuse me?" He turned and was astonished by the tears he saw on her face. "Mary Ellen-"
"Don't. I'm going to get this out." She wiped furiously at the tears. "I have to do what I think is right. And I still think what I did was right, but I'm sorry you're so angry with me, because I- Oh, I hate this." She scrubbed her hands over her face, evading him when he reached for her. "Don't. I don't want you to. I don't need to be patted or soothed, even if I am acting like a baby. You were mad, and I guess I can't blame you for it, or for dropping me cold."
"Dropping you cold?" He nearly laughed. "I left
you alone, and well out of harm's way, until I could be certain I could restrain myself from throttling you or present you with an ultimatum you might have tossed back in my face."
"Whatever." She sniffed and regained some control. "I guess what I did hurt you, and I didn't mean it to."
He smiled a little. "Same goes."
"Okay." There had to be some way to finish this with a little dignity intact. "Anyway, I wanted to clear the air, and to tell you I think we did a good job. Now that it's done, I figured I'd better return this." It was hard, one of the hardest things she'd ever done, to pull his ring from her finger. "Looks like the Ryans are getting a divorce."
"Yes." He took the ring back and held it warm in the palm of his hand as he considered her. It wasn't necessary to dip into her thoughts to see that she was suffering. It wasn't particularly noble, but the fact that she was pleased him very much. "It seems a pity." He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. "Then again, I much prefer you to her."
She blinked. "You do?"
"Very much. I was beginning to find her a little dull. She'd never argue with me, and she was forever having her nails done." Gently he cupped a hand behind her head and drew her closer. "She certainly wouldn't have been caught dead in those jeans."
"Guess not," she murmured, leaning into him, into the kiss.
She felt herself tremble, felt the tears welling up again as she threw her arms around him. "Sebastian. I need-" She tightened her hold as her lips clung to his.
"Tell me."
"I want-Oh, Lord, you scare me." She drew back, her eyes wet and terrified. "Just read my mind, will you? For God's sake, just look at what I'm feeling and give me a break."
His eyes darkened, his hands moved up to cup her face. He looked, and found everything he'd been waiting for. "Again," he murmured, taking her mouth. But this time the kiss was gentle, coaxing. "Can't you tell me? Can't you say the words? They're the truest magic."
"I don't want you to feel like I'm boxing you in. It's just that
"I love you," he finished for her.
"Yeah." She managed a weak smile. "You could say I blurred the lines. I wasn't going to bring it up, but it seemed like I should. Only fair that I should be up-front. Pretty awkward when you've got a houseful of people."
Books by Nora Roberts Page 271