"Damn. I missed that."
"You're a bit rusty, but I'm glad I saw it."
She let out a self-deprecating snort. "So am I."
He turned. "The bomb squad's here. Let them take over."
"I'm in the groove."
"Mal, you don't have any equipment on. At least get a suit."
"Good thinking. But I can't take my hand off of this."
"I'll get it."
"Then get back, Trey. Stay with the others."
"I'm with you, Mal. If you go, I go. We're partners."
"Trey, please."
"I'll get a suit too."
"They won't let you come back."
"Sure they will."
Moments later Trey returned—with a bomb squad guy.
"Kent can see things better from this angle," Trey said.
She had to admit he was right. "Kent, I'm Mallory. I'd shake your hand, but I'd rather not move."
"Kent Burbank. And we can shake later."
Mallory's gaze hadn't wavered. She could see someone in a bomb suit next to her. Trey, also in a suit, slid a jacket over her.
Kent set to work doing what he'd been trained to do. His gloved fingers didn't fumble as Mallory held her breath.
What if this bomb goes and I die tonight?
She thought about the grave that she'd never told Trey about. Her heart ached for the child buried there.
"Kent, if I talk will that distract you?"
"No, ma'am."
"Trey, I have something to say."
"Mal, it can wait."
"No, it can't. I want you to know why I left."
"Mallory, you aren't going to die."
"Let me speak."
"No, not now."
"Sir," Kent interrupted, "let her talk. She's moving when she's agitated."
She heard Trey sigh. "Fine," he said. "Go ahead, Mal."
"There's a grave." Her breath caught in her throat. "A child's grave."
"I'm listening."
"Our child's." She paused to see if he'd speak. He didn't. "I was pregnant on that last case. I miscarried him."
"Him?"
"Our son. I was in the hospital trying to save the pregnancy. They had to take him."
Silence.
Holding her breath, she waited.
"God, my arm's getting tired," she said after a minute. Soon her arm would shake.
"Almost done, ma'am," Kent said.
Sweat trickled down her forehead. "Trey?"
"I'm here. Where's the grave?"
"Neshanic Cemetery. It's a beautiful spot."
Silence again.
"All clear," Kent said. "You can let go now, ma'am."
Mallory did. She released a tired breath and lay there, afraid to move. Afraid of how Trey would look at her.
Trey moved away, stunned by Mallory's revelation. A child?
His child with Mallory. It would have been five years old.
His heart stopped for a moment. He'd never thought about having a child. He blinked, wrapped his brain around the idea.
Mallory worked her way out from under the giant airplane. She didn't look at him. When her eyes finally met his, he could tell she was scared.
Trey gritted his teeth. She'd never told him.
A dozen emotions roiled through is body. He had to control them. He didn't want her to see him so confused. He turned away.
When Mallory walked past him, he realized his mistake.
"Mal!"
She turned. "It's okay, Trey. You have every right to be mad."
"I'm not―"
She held up a hand. "I can see it in your eyes."
Her feet trudged to the firehouse where her coworkers and friends—no, her family—waited.
He shook himself out of his trance. If he didn't go to her now, he'd lose her. But anger held him back. He'd need time.
Our child. Something we made together. One more way they could have made the world a better place.
He flipped open his cell. "Stone, come get me."
Mallory had time on Sunday morning to catch her breath.
Today would be a short day for the fair. They would open just for a few hours and then begin clean up. The rides would go to some other fire company or church. The food equipment cleaned and packed away for another year.
She lay in bed, just lounging. Unsure of what her next move would be after the fair was over. Maybe her life would go back to normal. Maybe Jesse would share her bed again.
"Nope."
That ship has sailed. She didn't love him and she owed him enough that she should let him go to find someone who would.
When she rolled over, she noticed the light blinked on her answering machine. What now? As she pushed the button, she sensed that it wasn't just someone with a problem with the fair. Her stomach flipped.
This was bigger.
"Ms. Sage. This is Jessica Brown from the Adoption Registry. We think we have found a match for you."
Mallory scrambled to write down the number she recited and then she stared at it. They may have found one of my parents. Which one?
And today is Sunday.
"Damn."
"That would explain her aversion to Liam," Stone said.
They sat on Jo and Stone's deck, drinking beer. Lunchtime was early for Trey to be imbibing, but he felt he deserved it, needed it.
"Yes, I guess it would. I saw her give a firehouse tour. Five-year-olds. One had her spooked. Looked like Liam. Blond hair."
"She must have had her reasons."
Trey wanted someone to tell him what he was feeling was right—that his animosity was justified. "No, no. You are not allowed to take her side."
"They got Paul Stanley at the airport," Stone said. "Besides, I'm on your side."
"Good riddance to Stanley. How can you be on my side?"
"I want you to be happy. And you won't be, without Mallory."
"Who says?" He took a sip of his beer, not liking the idea that Mallory alone could make him happy. She'd kept his child from him. How could she?
"I say. And you know it too."
Bitterness brought bile to his throat. He washed it down with more beer. He was into his fourth as Stone nursed his first one.
What if Mallory is the one? Wouldn't that be irony? She betrayed me. "She left me, Stone. I was sure it was because I wasn't open enough. No hearts and flowers."
"Who says you're wrong?" Stone said. "Any woman needs some kind of hearts and flowers, some way that you show them you love them."
"She knew I loved her."
"Did she?" Stone rose. "Would she have hidden your child from you if she knew that?"
The fairgrounds were clear and the interrogations were over for now. The Coleville Volunteer Fire Department's annual fair opened a little late for its last day.
They'd lost the lunch crowd, but caught an afternoon of curiosity seekers. Whatever it took.
Mallory surveyed the thin gathering of parents and children. Jesse stopped beside her. They hadn't talked. Now didn't seem to be the time.
"Buy you a beer when we close down?" he said.
She smiled up at him. "Sure." She felt her shoulders drop and she gazed at the ground. "I'm sorry I deserted you."
He put a hand on her arm. The feel of it went straight to her heart. "We all understand. You had bigger priorities."
"I truly didn't want to leave and I don't ever want to again."
"You didn't miss it at all?"
"Maybe for a moment, but then the reality of the danger hit me in the face."
"We face danger."
"Yeah, but fires are predictable for the most part. People are not."
He leaned back on his heels, studying her. "That's for sure."
"Look, Jesse—"
He put up a hand. "No explanations needed." His smile reassured her.
Then he walked to the food tent. She moved to the beer tent where Cal stood reign.
"Buy you a cold one, sweet cheeks?" he asked.
"Thanks, Cal."
He poured the amber liquid into a cup emblazoned with the Budweiser logo. When he turned back, his face looked grim. "We missed you, Mallory. I missed you"
"Thanks, Cal."
"Are you leaving us for good?"
She patted his hand. "Wild horses couldn't drag me away. I am going home to shower in a little bit. I've got a new cell number. She handed him a slip of paper. "Call me if anything goes wrong."
"Sure thing. And we're so glad you're back."
"Thanks, Cal."
The parking lot was hot under her feet and the air was humid. All was right with the world. With a sense of euphoria, she nearly floated to her car, secure in the knowledge that she was where she belonged.
CHAPTER 26
Trey didn't move from his chair.
Jo plopped herself on the one Stone had occupied. Her jaw was set and her eyes on fire. "You're an idiot."
"Yes, I'm feeling that way."
"You shouldn't be here moping. You should be there making sure Mallory doesn't leave again."
"She should be here."
Jo's eyes rolled. "Boo-hoo. She made a decision that in hindsight wasn't the right one. You men think we can read minds and know how you feel." She poked a finger into his arm. "Well, we can't. So unless you say the words, we don't know."
"I have every right to wallow."
"No, you don't. Mallory went through a miscarriage, the death of her child, and recovery all by herself. If I know my facts, you were off on another case. Probably volunteered for the case."
He'd run away. He knew it. He didn't like the truth thrown in his face. Mallory had been acting strange. I should have seen it.
The beer came to his lips and he tried to wash away the guilt with it. I should have been there for her. "I didn't know she was pregnant."
"But I bet she wasn't acting like herself, maybe not drinking or she was eating better...but instead of dealing with the situation, you ran away. You aren't exactly innocent," Jo said.
He shrugged. "I had to go."
"No, you didn't."
She wasn't wrong. Women. "Leave me alone," he growled.
"Nope. Not until you let Stone drive you to Coleville. Unless you want me to..."
His head fell back onto the chair. Once again, she was right. He had to see Mallory.
Stone came back out on the deck. "The contract on you and Mallory has been cancelled, according to my sources. But you should know...the word on the street is that the hired gun is going to kill Mallory anyway."
"We have to go to Coleville." Trey jolted out of his seat. "Mallory has no idea. She isn't safe."
After showering in her own bathroom, Mallory felt better. She had managed to ignore the mess that the gunman had left in her kitchen, and she had pushed down the thoughts of breaking it off with Jesse. For now.
Her step was a little lighter as she walked the fairgrounds. Lots of kids having lots of fun. No bombs. No bad guys. Just good old American fun.
In a rare turn of events, the New Jersey humidity had broken. A storm had passed through, cooling off the air. The temperature hung at a pleasant eighty degrees. Warm enough for shorts, but not hot enough to keep everyone in the air conditioning.
The day was as perfect as it could get—under the circumstances—for the last installment of this year's fair. Proceeds had been good, despite the earlier trouble.
So why am I not happier? Tomorrow I'll know the number or address for one of my parents.
She had her life back and the contentment of safety that went with it. Yet she had the sense that it was Sunday night and there was homework she'd forgotten. She couldn't shake off the sense of foreboding.
Trey and Stone took the turn for the fire company's parking lot so fast they almost lifted off. They came to a shrieking halt, narrowly missing a Boy Scout who was directing traffic. Appearing shaken, he jumped out of the way.
Stone rolled down his window and looked at the boy.
He regained his composure, telling them the lot was full. "You'll have to park at the high school and take the shuttle," he said.
Stone shook his head. "We're part of the work crew."
The boy looked them over and waved them on.
Stone parked, blocking two people in. He and Trey grabbed weapons and jumped out.
They hid the weapons so they didn't scare any of the fairgoers or draw attention to themselves and then headed for the food tent.
Trey recognized the guy pouring beer, but he didn't remember his name. "I'm looking for Mallory."
The man eyed them. Trey could imagine what they looked like. They had alcohol on their breath and Trey hadn't pulled back his hair.
"She just left. I think she's down by the rides."
Trey directed Stone to the games of chance lined up next to the firehouse. "Do we know what the assassin looks like?"
Stone flipped open his camera phone. "Yeah. Here."
A man with dark hair and a malevolent look stared back at Trey. "Booth or Joe Smith. Are we sure he's here?"
"It's likely. He took out a policeman in the next town. Paul Stanley was in bed with all sorts," Stone said.
"Kiss your wife when you get home. She's grade A with investigation."
Stone grinned. "Let's split up. I'll circle around and come from the other side. Call me if you see her."
"Sure."
Stone melted into the crowd on the rides, while Trey stalked down the middle between the two sets of games. People seemed to be giving him a wide berth. I have to find Mallory.
A hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Can I help you, sir?"
Trey spun around to find a young-looking cop, maybe a year out of the academy. He had fifty pounds on Trey, but was shorter. "Yes, I'm looking for someone. Mallory Sage."
"I know her. Why are you looking for her?"
"She's in danger. She doesn't know. I need to find her."
The cop's hand rested on the butt of his gun. "Danger? From whom?"
Trey combed a hand through his unruly hair. "Look, it's a long story. Where is she?"
The cop looked him over as if evaluating what he said. "I just saw her at the end, playing a game."
Trey yanked out a card. "Can I borrow that pen?" The cop gave it to him. "If you see her, have her call this number. It's urgent."
"Okay." The officer put the pen and card in his pocket.
"Thanks." Trey turned around and moved through the crowd.
He caught a glimpse of a short blonde woman. It wasn't Mallory.
Off to the side, a dark-haired man dashed out from between two trailers.
Booth?
The man disappeared before Trey could follow.
I have to find Mallory.
Booth stood in the firehouse between the trucks. This was it.
No tropical island. No hot nurses in bikinis. No payoff from the government or anyone else.
They'd called him off, saying that Mallory Sage was harmless.
He knew she wasn't. He knew what she was capable of.
She could wield a stiletto around his heart and have it out on the floor before he knew it. Literally and figuratively.
His hands shook.
The knife was in his boot.
He had a gun too. Just in case. He hadn't decided yet how he would do it.
The medicine the doctor gave him hadn't helped. Hadn't stilled the tremors. It wouldn't get any better.
He shook off his thoughts and put on his game face.
He had someone to kill.
His last hit. He may as well enjoy it.
On the fairgrounds, Mallory won a large green turtle when her rubber frog catapulted onto a moving lily pad. She gave it to the little girl next to her. The mother thanked her and led her daughter away.
No one with problems. Everything was running smoothly.
She wasn't feeling happy about it. Something was wrong.
A phone rang, but it wasn't hers. She'd left hers at home. Instead, she carried a walkie-talkie.
> She took it from her belt. The battery was dead. "Dang."
Mallory headed toward the firehouse. She found a radio in the charger outside the office. She verified that the charge was fully loaded, then decided to check in.
CHAPTER 27
Cal stopped Trey halfway down the midway. "I can't get her on the radio."
The hairs on Trey's neck went up. He spotted the same dark-haired man who appeared to be looking for someone.
When they approached him, Trey said, "Can we help you?"
Instead of running, the man greeted them with a tense smile. "Thank God. I've lost my daughter."
Cal put a hand on the man's shoulder. "What does your daughter look like?"
"She's six. Blonde hair, blue eyes and she's wearing a Smurfette backpack."
"We'll keep an eye out for her," Trey assured the man. "For now, go tell the guy making the announcements."
The anxious father hurried away.
"So tell me why you can't reach Mallory," Trey said to Cal.
"As fair boss, she carries a radio. But we can't get her on it." Cal paused. "Why are you looking for her?"
"She's in danger."
Cal sucked in a breath. "Damn. Okay, I'll look for her in the firehouse. Maybe the radio battery's dead."
Trey recited his cell number. "Call me if you find her."
Cal hurried toward the firehouse.
Trey's phone rang. It was Stone.
"I've seen Booth."
"I haven't," Trey replied, surveying the grounds.
"You sound distracted."
"They can't get Mallory on the radio." Trey bit his lip. "I don't like this."
"Hang in there. We'll find her." Stone disconnected.
Trey rubbed his forehead. God I hope so.
Booth slid around a fire truck. She was there and she was alone.
He had two choices.
A gun and a knife.
His heart beat double time.
He wanted this finished. His nerve was gone. He had a duty and Mallory was his target. She needed to be extinguished.
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