Liz climbed into the SUV, closed the door, then reached down to scoot the seat forward. Her fingers brushed cool metal, ridged, an object so familiar to her that she could recognize it blindfolded. She lifted the .45 into her lap, positioning it between her legs for easy gripping, then shifted into gear.
Driving away and leaving Joe behind was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Still on his knees, he watched her until the first curve blocked the view. “Oh, God,” she whispered, the best prayer she could manage.
A hundred feet around the curve was a sign for a hiking trail. She alternately watched the odometer and the left side of the road for a break in the trees. When it appeared, she switched off the headlights, then turned onto the broad dirt path. She navigated by moonlight, driving slowly to keep engine noise to a minimum, easing to a stop where the trail crossed a footbridge over a creek that emptied into the lake.
Liz climbed out of the car, pushing the door until it closed with a quiet click. She had eleven shots in the pistol, and she wanted to put every one of them into Daniel Wallace, then find the GLOCK he’d taken from her and empty that magazine into him as well. If anything happened to Joe…
She crossed the bridge, then cut into the woods. The clearing came into sight after the first twenty yards, still well lit by the headlights, Joe still on his knees, Natalia nearby. Occasional snatches of conversation carried through the trees, but they were impossible to understand.
She was moving from the scant cover of one thin tree to another, working her way closer to both the clearing and the lake shore, when a hand slid over her mouth while another gripped her pistol hand tightly.
“It’s Lieutenant Decker,” he whispered in her ear.
She nodded to show she understood, and he let go, then moved to her side. “Maricci and Petrovski are in the trees to the north. How many besides the girl?”
“Two that I know of. Plus an ambush set up at the entrance.”
Shielding his cell phone with one hand, Decker typed a quick text message, hit Send, then pocketed the device. “Isn’t that the girl who lives next door to Saldana?”
Liz nodded. “She told Wallace he’s Josh. She told me how to find the trail leading here and about the ambush.”
“So maybe we shouldn’t shoot her if we don’t have to.” Even in a raspy whisper, Decker’s dry humor came through.
“I would prefer that we don’t.” There must be extenuating circumstances explaining why Natalia was working with Wallace. Liz and Joe were good judges of character, and she couldn’t believe that they’d been so totally wrong about Natalia. It was almost surely Josh’s fault somehow that she’d been dragged into this.
“How good a shot are you with this?” Decker lifted the scoped rifle slung over his shoulder. “Can you go back about thirty feet and take out some of those headlights?”
“You bet.” She took the weapon, exchanged nods with him and eased back the way she’d come. When she paused to look back, Decker was gone. No sign, no sound.
Wishing she was wearing black like everyone else, she located the biggest tree near the edge of the piney woods, an oak that was nothing like the massive ones she’d seen in town but that was at least wider than she was. Taking cover against the trunk, she sighted on the headlights one at a time, drew a breath to steady herself, then began picking them off.
Within forty seconds, the field went dark. Wallace began shouting out orders as gunfire erupted. Natalia grabbed Joe’s arm, jerking him to his feet, and together they sprinted for the woods a few yards west of Liz.
“Run, run, run,” she whispered as a burst of gunshots bit into the ground in their wake. Joe pulled free of Natalia, took her arm the same way she’d held his, and lengthened his stride, dragging her after him. When they reached the tree line, he dived to the ground, pulling her with him, then they scuttled to the nearest big tree for cover.
Over near the vehicles, there were a few last shots, then unnatural silence fell. After a moment, a shrill whistle pierced the night before Decker stepped out of the shadows. “It’s clear. Come on out.”
Liz slung the rifle strap over her shoulder and raced to the next oak, skidding to a stop on the other side. Natalia was sitting up, brushing dead leaves from her hair. Joe lay on his back, eyes closed, pale, motionless. For an instant, Liz’s heart stopped beating, then he blew out a deep breath and looked up at her. “Damn, you’re beautiful.”
She dropped to her knees. “I can only guess how I look based on the way I feel, but I’m pretty sure only a crazy man could call it beautiful.”
“Just crazy in love.” He sat up, then touched her face so lightly that she hardly felt it, her swollen lip, her bruised cheek, the corner of her black eye. “I hope Decker kicks him in the face, lets him see how it feels.”
“Honey, Decker probably put a bullet in his brain,” she said gently. Joe was such a good guy, not accustomed to the use of deadly force. She wouldn’t let him blame himself for anything that had happened tonight.
“Even better.” He got to his feet, helped her up, then wrapped his arms around her middle. “Don’t get kidnapped again,” he murmured, his lips brushing her temple.
“I’ll try not to.”
“Don’t get shot at again.” He kissed her ear.
“Okay.”
“Don’t scare me like that again.” This time his mouth trailed along the right side of her jaw, making her shiver.
“I won’t.”
Then he bent so close that their noses bumped and stared fiercely into her eyes. “Don’t break my heart, Liz.”
Warmth swelled through her. He wanted her—not Liz Dalton, his brother’s ex-girlfriend, but Deputy Marshal Liz Dillon. His I love you hadn’t been an obligated response or a dying declaration that he’d never have to live up to. He wanted her. Loved her. Would be broken-hearted without her.
She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly enough to make his breath catch. “Never,” she whispered. “I’ll never, ever break anything. I love you, Joe.”
His kiss was gentle, awkward, a little bit painful and the sweetest kiss she’d ever had. She was vaguely aware through the haze that surrounded her of footsteps moving away, then Decker’s distant voice.
“Are they okay back there?”
Then Natalia. “They’re alive and together. Yeah. They’re okay.”
Liz dressed carefully Wednesday morning, choosing a sleeveless white dress that molded to her curves, with a red belt snug at her waist. It went well with Joe’s favorite red-and-white heels, and her favorite red purse that fastened with a big leather bow. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and her makeup was carefully applied to camouflage her injuries.
She looked pretty damn good, she thought as she stared at herself in the mirror. She needed the confidence of that because she was on a mission today.
Leaving her car where it was, she set out for a leisurely walk downtown for a not-so-leisurely talk with Joe. Things were good between them, just unsettled. Since Sunday night, they’d made love, talked, made love some more, but they hadn’t discussed the future. They’d each said I love you, but they hadn’t talked about what that meant. She knew what it meant to her: commitment, marriage, kids, the rest of their lives. She needed to know what it meant to him.
A lot of other things had been settled since Sunday. Daniel Wallace had been wounded and arrested and faced a laundry list of charges. Being an intelligent man, he would probably put his best interests first and testify against his employers. His associate at the clearing was dead, and the four men who had set up the ambush for Liz were all in custody.
Josh wasn’t in custody. His phone had eventually been located at a Boulder mall, in the possession of a twelve-year-old boy who’d found it in a McDonald’s. No one had a clue where to look for him now.
Natalia wasn’t in custody either. She’d been taken back to the police station with the other survivors, had answered a few questions, asked to go to the bathroom and quietly disappeared. The feds h
ad been furious, but Decker and Maricci—who’d never lost a prisoner in their lives—weren’t fazed by it.
Liz would have let her go, too.
She stopped at an intersection and realized that she’d reached the square while her thoughts had wandered. A Cuppa Joe was across the street, the tables mostly empty. She drew a breath for courage, crossed the street and went inside.
Joe came out of the back room, grinning when he saw her. His gaze dropped to her feet and made a long, slow trip back up, and arousal entered his expression. “Hey,” he greeted her. “It’s a slow morning, you look incredibly hot, and I’ve got a couch in the back. What do you say?”
She gave him a chastising look. “Is it slow enough that we can talk?”
His smile faded, and disquiet entered his expression. She empathized. If he’d told her, We need to talk, her palms would be clammy and the edges of her heart would already be breaking in anticipation of the bad news to come.
“Sure,” he said. “Come on back.”
When she went into the office, she noticed a box on his desk, the lid askew and showing a bit of porcelain. More coffee mugs. Probably recycled or handmade in some tiny start-up third-world pottery. He did like saving his corner of the earth.
He stopped in the doorway, facing her. “What’s up?”
Jeez, it was easier to think about asking him what he wanted than to actually do it. What if he wanted a long-distance affair? What if he didn’t want her in his life on a daily basis? After all, she must come with some pretty bad memories attached.
“I, uh, I’m supposed to be back in Dallas next week, and, uh, I was wondering…”
His face went blank of all expression as his body went stiff.
She took a breath and rushed on. “I was wondering what you thought about that. Whether you mind. Whether you want or don’t want me to stay here, at least all the time, because I could understand if you didn’t, but—”
She broke off when he abruptly moved, striding to the desk and lifting the lid from the box. He thrust it at her, and she stared at the tall, gracefully shaped cup inside. A whimsical view of Copper Lake beneath a summer blue sky circled the cup—A Cuppa Joe, the square, River’s Edge, Wyndham Hall, SnoCap. And in the place of prominence, a house: white, dark shutters, picket fence, flowers blooming everywhere, and a mailbox on a crooked post. Tiny print on the mailbox read Liz and Joe. And even tinier, under that, Forever.
She clasped the mug in both hands, tears filling her eyes. “Oh, Joe…”
He set the box aside, then wrapped his arms around her. “I love you, Liz. I want to marry you. I want to have kids with you. I won’t ask you to quit your job or move here. I can go—”
She smiled up at him. “Oh, please do. Really. Please ask.” Giving him the precious cup to hold, she reached inside her purse and drew out a single sheet of paper.
It was a letter she’d never imagined herself writing. Until lately, it had been unthinkable, even, but when she’d started to write, the words had come easily. Joe was definitely one of the reasons, but there were others. Finding a life she wanted more. Getting kidnapped. Facing death. Facing his death. Life was too short to spend one more day doing something that didn’t own her heart.
“What’s that?” he asked as she unfolded it.
“My resignation from the marshals service. Please ask me to stay, Joe.”
He scanned the letter she held and the tension faded from his gaze. Staring down at her, he obeyed beautifully. “Will you marry me, Liz, and stay in Copper Lake?”
He was a good man, handsome as hell, sexy, dependable, and he’d proven himself willing to die for her. And she loved him. How could she possibly leave him?
“I will,” she whispered. “Forever.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-4655-7
CRIMINAL DECEPTION
Copyright © 2010 by Marilyn Pappano
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Criminal Deception Page 20