True Blue

by Diana Palmer

  Machado raised an eyebrow. “It would be just as well if your memory lapses for the next few hours. My son can use the company.”

  “Your son?” Cash’s dark eyes narrowed on the older man. “Machado.”

  The older man nodded and smiled.

  “Gwen had a photo of you. I had to break the news to Rick’s mother, about your connection to him.”

  “Ah, yes, that was how he was told. Ingenious.” The general’s expression sombered. “I hope she and the officer will be all right.”

  “So do I,” Cash said. “I can’t help being concerned about that other car.”

  Machado came a step closer. “The Fuentes bunch have much reason to interfere with my plans. They are being paid by my successor to spy on me. There is also a very high level mole in the DEA. I do not know who it is,” he added. “But even I am aware of him.”

  “Damn,” Cash muttered.

  “Yes, things are quite complicated. I did not mean to involve the children in my war,” he added, with a rueful glance at Rick, who was pacing the floor.

  “No parent would. Sometimes fate intervenes. Her father should be told.”

  “Yes,” Machado replied. “He should.” He excused himself and spoke to Rick.

  “Her father.” Rick groaned. “How am I going to find him?”

  Machado grinned. “I think I can solve that problem.” He pulled out his disposable cell phone, one of many, and dialed a number. “Grange? Yes. Gwen has been injured in an automobile accident. I need you to call her father and tell him. We don’t know details yet. She has at least a broken rib. The rest we don’t know…but he should come.”

  There was a pause. “Yes. Thank you. She is at the Jacobsville hospital. Yes. All right.” He hung up. “Grange and her father are friends. He will make the call.”

  Rick averted his eyes. “Hell of a way to meet in-laws,” he muttered.

  “I do agree,” Machado said. He put an affectionate arm around his son’s neck. “But you will get through it. Come. Sit down and stop pacing, before you wear a hole in the floor.”

  Rick allowed himself to be led to a chair. It was kind of nice, having a father.

  Dr. Louise Coltrain came into the room in her white lab coat, smiling. She was introduced to Gwen’s husband and father-in-law with some surprise, because no one locally knew about the wedding.

  “Congratulations,” she told Rick. “She’ll be all right,” she added quickly. “She does have a broken rib, but the other injuries are mostly bruises. Patrolman Ames has a head injury,” she told Cash. “His prognosis is going to be trickier. I’m having him airlifted to San Antonio, to the Marshall Center. He’s holding his own so far, though. Do you have a way to notify his family?”

  Cash shook his head. “He doesn’t have any family that I’m aware of. Just me,” he added with a grim smile. “So I’m the one to notify.”

  She nodded. “I’ll keep you in the loop. Detective Marquez, you can see your wife now. I’ll take you back…”

  “Where the hell is my daughter?”

  Rick felt a shiver go down his spine. That voice, deep and cold with authority, froze everyone in the waiting room. Rick turned to find the face that went with it, and understood at once how this man had risen to become a four-star general. He was in full uniform, every button polished, his hat at the perfect angle, his hard face almost bristling with antagonism, his black eyes glittering with it.

  “And who’s responsible for putting her in the hospital?” he added in a tone that was only a little less intimidating.

  While Rick was working on an answer, Barbara came in the door, worried and unsettled by his call. She paused beside the military man who was raising Cain in the waiting room.

  “My goodness, someone had his razor blade soup this morning, I see!” she exclaimed with pure hostility. “Now you calm down and s top shouting at people. This is a hospital, not a military installation!”

  Chapter Ten

  General Cassaway turned and looked down at the willowy blonde woman who was glaring up at him.

  “Who the hell are you?” he demanded.

  “The woman who’s going to have you arrested if you don’t calm down,” she replied. “Rick, how is she?” she asked, holding out her arms.

  Rick came and held her close. “Broken rib,” he said. “And some bruising. She’ll be all right.”

  “Who are you?” General Cassaway demanded.

  Rick turned. “I’m Gwen’s husband. Detective Sergeant Rick Marquez,” he said coldly, not backing down an inch.

  “Her husband?”

  “Yes. And he’s my son,” Barbara added.

  “And also my son,” General Machado said, joining them. He smiled at Barbara, who smiled back.

  “You two are married?” Cassaway asked.

  Barbara laughed. “No. He’s much too young for me,” she said.

  Machado gave her an amused look. “I do like older women,” he admitted.

  She just shook her head.

  “I want to see my daughter,” Cassaway told Lou Coltrain.

  “Of course. Come this way. You, too, Rick.”

  Cassaway was surprised at the first name basis.

  “We all know each other here,” Lou told him. “I’m a newcomer, so to speak, but my husband is from here. He’s known Rick since Barbara adopted him.”

  “I see.”

  Gwen was heavily sedated, but her eyes opened and she brightened when she saw her husband and her father walk into the recovery room.

  “Dad! Rick!”

  Rick went on one side to take a hand, her father on the other.

  “I’m so sorry,” she began.

  “Don’t be absurd.” Rick kissed her forehead. “I was an idiot. I’m sorry! I never should have let you go with Ames.”

  “Ames! How is he?” she asked. “The other car came out of nowhere! We didn’t even see it until it hit us. There were three men in it…”

  “Did you recognize any of them?”

  “No,” she replied. “But it could have been Fuentes. The last of the living brothers, the drug lords.”

  “By God, I’ll have them hunted down like rats,” Cassaway said icily.

  “My father will beat you to it,” Rick replied coolly.

  “Just who is your father?” Cassaway asked suddenly. “He looks very familiar.”

  “General Emilio Machado,” Rick said, and with a hint of pride that reflected in the tilt of his chin.

  Cassaway pursed his lips. “Grange’s boss. Yes, we know about that upcoming operation. We can’t be involved, of course.”

  “Of course,” Rick replied with twinkling eyes.

  “But we are rooting for the good guys,” came the amused comment.

  Rick chuckled.

  “So you’re married,” Cassaway said. He shook his head. “Your mother would have loved seeing you married.” He winced. “I would have, too.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “But I hadn’t told Rick who you were.” She bit her lip.

  “What did that have to do with anything?” the older man asked, puzzled.

  “I’m a city detective,” Rick said sardonically. “I wear three-year-old suits and I drive a pickup truck.”

  “Hell, I drive a pickup truck, too,” the general said, shrugging. “So what?”

  Rick liked the man already. He grinned.

  “See?” Gwen asked her husband. “I told you he wasn’t what you thought.”

  “Snob,” the general said, glaring at Rick. “I don’t pick my friends for their bank accounts.”

  “Sorry,” Rick said. “I didn’t know you.”

  “You’ll get there, son.”

  “Congratulations on the appointment,” Rick said.

  The general shrugged. “I don’t know how long I’ll last. I don’t kiss butt, if you know what I mean, and I say what I think. Not very popular to speak your mind sometimes.”

  “I think honesty never goes out of style, and has value,” Rick replied.
/>   The general’s eyes twinkled. “You did good,” he told his daughter.

  She just smiled.

  Out in the waiting room, Cash Grier was talking on the phone to someone in San Antonio while the general thumbed through a magazine. Barbara paced, worried. Gwen’s father was a hard case. She hoped he and Rick would learn to get along.

  Cash closed his flip phone grimly. “They found a car, abandoned, a few miles outside of Comanche Wells,” he said. “We can’t say for sure that it’s the one that hit Ames, but it has black paint on the fender, and Ames’s car is black. We ran wants and warrants on it—it was stolen.”

  “Fuentes,” Machado said quietly. His dark eyes narrowed. “I have had just about enough of him. I think he will have to meet with a similar accident soon.”

  “I didn’t hear you say that,” Cash told him.

  “Did I say something?” Machado asked. “Why, I was simply voicing a prediction.”

  “Terroristic threats and acts,” he said, waving a finger at Machado. “And I’m conveniently forgetting your connection with the Pendleton kidnapping for the next hour or so. After that,” he added with pursed lips, “things could get interesting here.”

  Machado grinned. “I will be long gone by then. My son needed me.”

  Cash smiled. “I have a daughter,” he said. “She’s going on three years old. Red hair and green eyes and a temper worse than mine.”

  “I would like to have known my son when he was small,” Machado said sadly. “I did not know about him. Dolores kept her secret all the way to the grave. A pity.”

  “It was nice for me, that you didn’t know,” Barbara said gently. “When I adopted him, he gave me a reason to live.” She stood up. “Do you think things happen for a reason?” she asked philosophically.

  “Yes, I do,” Machado replied with a smile. “Perhaps fate had a hand in all this.”

  “Well, I suppose…” she began.

  “I have to get back home,” General Cassaway was saying as he walked out with Rick. “But it’s been a pleasure meeting you, son.” He shook hands with Rick.

  “Same here,” Rick told him. “I’ll take better care of your daughter from now on. And I won’t be so inflexible next time she springs a surprise on me,” he added with a laugh.

  “See that you aren’t. Remember what I do for a living now,” he told the younger man with a grin. “I can find you anywhere, anytime.”

  “Yes, sir,” Rick replied.

  The general turned to Machado. “And you’d better hightail it out of Mexico pretty soon,” he said in a confidential tone. “Things are going to heat up in Sonora. A storm’s coming. You don’t want to be in its way.”

  Machado nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Oh, I have ulterior motives,” Cassaway assured him. “I want that rat out of Barrera before he turns your country into the world’s largest cocaine distribution center.”

  “So do I,” Machado replied quietly. “I promise you, his days of power will soon come to an end.”

  “Wish I could help,” Cassaway told him. “But I think you have enough intel and mercs to do the job.”

  “Including a friend of yours,” Machado replied, smiling.

  “A very good one. He’ll get the job done.” He shook hands with Machado. Then he turned to Barbara. “You’ve got a smart mouth on you.”

  She glared at him. “And you’ve got a sharp tongue on you.”

  He smiled. “I like pepper.”

  She shifted. “Me, too.”

  “She’s a great cook,” Rick said, sliding his arm around her shoulders. “She owns the local café here, and does most of the cooking for it.”

  “Really! I’m something of a chef myself,” Cassaway replied. “I grow my own vegetables and I get a local grandmother to come over and help me can every summer.”

  Barbara moved closer. “I can, too. I like to dry herbs as well.”

  “Now I’ve got a herb garden of my own,” the general said. “But it isn’t doing as well as I’d like.”

  “Do you have a composter?” Barbara asked.

  His eyebrows lifted. “A what?”

  “A composter, for organic waste from the kitchen.” She went on to explain to him how it worked and what you did with it.

  “A fellow gardener,” Cassaway said with a beaming smile. “What a surprise! So few women garden these days.”

  “Oh, we have plenty around Jacobsville who plant gardens,” Barbara said. “You’ll have to come and visit us next summer. I can show you how to grow corn ten feet high, even in a drought,” she added.

  Cassaway moved a step closer. He was huge, Barbara thought, tall and good-looking and built like a tank. He had thick black hair and black eyes and a tan complexion. Nice mouth.

  Cassaway was thinking the same thing about Barbara. She was tall and willowy and very pretty.

  “I might visit sooner than that,” he said in a low, deep tone. “Is there a hotel?”

  “Yes, but I have a big Victorian house. Rick and Gwen can stay there, too. We’ll have a family reunion.” She flushed a little, and laughed, and then looked at Machado. “That invitation includes you, also,” she added. “If you’re through with your revolution by then,” she said ruefully.

  “I think that is a good possibility, and I will accept the invitation,” Machado said. He kissed her hand and bowed. “Thank you for taking such good care of my son.”

  She smiled. “He’s been the joy of my life. I had nobody until Rick needed a home.”

  “I only have a daughter,” General Cassaway said sadly. “I lost my son earlier this year to an IED, and my wife died some years ago.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Barbara said with genuine sympathy. “I miscarried the only child I ever had. It must be terrible to lose one who’s grown.”

  “Worse than death,” Cassaway agreed. He cleared his throat and looked away. He drew in a long breath. “Well, my adjutant is doing the ants’ dance, so I guess we’d better go,” he said, nodding toward a young officer standing in the doorway.

  “The ants’ dance?” Barbara asked.

  “He moves around like that when he’s in a hurry to do something, like he’s got ants climbing his legs. Good man, but a little testy.” He shrugged. “Like me. He suits me.” He shook hands with Rick. “I’ve heard good things about you from Grange. Your police chief over there—” he nodded toward Cash, who was talking on the phone again “—speaks highly of you.”

  Rick smiled. “Nice to know. I love my job. I like to think I’m good at it.”

  “Take care of my little girl.”

  “You know I will.”

  He paused at Barbara and looked down at her with quiet admiration. “And I’ll see you later.”

  She grinned. “Okay!”

  He nodded at the others, and walked toward the young man, who was now motioning frantically.

  Cash joined them a minute later. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude. I’ve got a man working on the hit-and-run, and I’ve been checking in. There was an incident at the border crossing over near Del Rio,” he added. “Three men jumped a border agent, knocked him out and took off over the crossing into Mexico. We think it was the same men who ran Ames off the road.”

  “Great,” Rick muttered. “Just great. Now we work on trying to get them extradited back to the States. That will be good for a year, even if we can get a positive identification of who they are.”

  Machado pursed his lips. “I would not worry about that. Such men are easy to find, for a good tracker, and equally easy to deal with.”

  “I didn’t hear that,” Cash said.

  Machado chuckled. “Of course not. I was, again, making a prediction.”

  “Thanks for coming with me,” Rick told Machado. “And for the shoulder earlier.”

  Machado embraced his son in a bear hug. “I will always be around, whenever you need me.” He searched the younger man’s face. “I am very proud to have such a man for my son.”

  Rick swallowed hard
. “I’m proud to have such a man for my father.”

  Machado’s eyes were suspiciously bright. He laughed suddenly. “We will both be wailing in another minute. I must go. Grange is waiting for me in the parking lot.”

  “I can’t say anything officially,” Cash told the general. “But privately, I wish you good luck.”

  Machado shook his hand. “Thank you, my friend. I hope your patrolman will be all right.”

  “So do I,” Cash said.

  Rick walked Machado to the door. Outside, Winslow Grange was sitting behind the wheel of Machado’s pickup truck, waiting.

  Machado turned to his son. “When the time comes, I will be happy to let you become my liaison with the American authorities. And it will come,” he added solemnly. “My country has many resources that will appeal to outside interests. I would prefer to deal with republics or democracies rather than totalitarian states.”

  “A wise decision,” Rick said. “And when the time comes, I’ll be here.”

  Machado smiled. “Que vayas con Dios, mi hijo,” he said, using the familiar tense that was only applied to family and close friends.

  It made Rick feel warm inside, that his father already felt affection for him. He waved as the two men in the truck departed. He hoped his father wouldn’t get killed in the attempt to retake Barrera. But, then, Machado was a general, and he’d won the title fairly, in many battles. He would be all right. Rick was certain of it.

  Gwen came home two days later. She wore a rib belt and winced every time she moved. The lieutenant had granted her sick leave, but she was impatient to get back on the job. Rick had to make threats to keep her in bed at all, at Barbara’s house.

  “And I’m a burden on your poor mother,” Gwen protested. “She has a business to run, and here she is bringing me food on trays…!”

  “She doesn’t mind,” Rick assured her.

  “Of course she doesn’t mind,” Barbara said as she brought in soup and crackers. “She’s working on planning a fantastic Thanksgiving dinner in a couple of weeks. I’m going to invite your father,” she told Gwen and then flushed a little. “I guess that would be all right. I don’t know,” she hesitated, looking around her. “He’s head of the CIA and used to crystal and fine china…”