“I’m sorry,” he called out above Emma’s wails. “I’m so sorry. I never meant for things to go this far.”
Grace held her breath. Piper again sounded on the brink of tears. Not a good sign. He was losing his flimsy hold on control, becoming more desperate and probably more reckless.
Her gaze flickered to Beau and she saw he had the same realization.
“I know you’re sorry,” Jack answered, his voice low and calm. He made a perfect hostage negotiator, she thought, with just the right touch of understanding in his expression. “I know you are. Look, drop the gun and let them go and I’ll do what I can to find you the best lawyer around. We can try to work this all out, but not unless you let them go.”
Piper didn’t even seem to register his words. “I didn’t mean for things to go this far,” he repeated. She sensed he was trying to justify his actions not only to Jack but to himself. “I just needed a little extra cash. You know how I am with money, don’t you Jack?”
“Sure. Sure I do.”
“It just trickles through my fingers like sand. I can’t help it. They made it sound so easy. Just slip a few extra crates in the load, they said, and nobody will suspect a thing.”
“Who?” Beau asked urgently. “Who said that?”
The gun slipped a notch in Piper’s sweaty hands and her nerves clutched in panic. “I can’t tell you. They’ll… She’ll kill me.”
“McCall, this could be your way out,” Beau called. “Slow down and just think about this for a minute. If you were just a low man in the whole thing, just a soldier, and have dirt on somebody bigger than you, we might be able to cut a deal.”
Piper tucked his face into his shoulder for a moment to rub the sweat off his upper lip on the fabric of his shirt. He took another shaky breath and the gun slipped another centimeter, until she felt it, cool and deadly, against her earlobe.
“What…what kind of deal?”
“That depends on how much you can give us,” Beau answered.
“I’m almost sixty years old. I don’t want to go to prison.”
“We might be able to work something out. If you release the girls and don’t go any further with this, I’ll do what I can for you. I can’t do anything unless you work with me here, though, and let them go.”
She held her breath while Piper blinked several times. His agonized gaze flew first to Jack and then to Emma, whose wails had grown louder.
“Piper,” Jack called softly, “He’s giving you a chance to do what you can to make things right. Don’t blow it.”
Just like that, all the energy seemed to leave Piper and his shoulders slumped. With hands that trembled, he pulled the weapon away from her ear and handed her Emma.
Sweet relief flooded through her as she hugged the little girl’s warm body to her. Her gaze met Jack’s and the raw emotion there had her blinking away tears.
She had a sudden, fierce wish that some small portion of that emotion could be aimed toward her, but she knew it wasn’t.
It was all for Emma.
“Drop the weapon and put your hands in the air,” Beau commanded.
His face suddenly gray and haggard, Piper obeyed and the handgun hit the concrete floor with a clatter.
Beau met her gaze and he asked her without words how she was holding up. She tilted her mouth into a reassuring half-smile in answer. She was fine. A little shaky, maybe, but fine. More important, she had a little girl who needed her father.
Emma whimpered against her and Grace hugged her tightly.
“Everything’s okay, sweetheart. See, there’s your daddy.” With a silent prayer that her wobbly knees would sustain her, she started to carry Emma toward Jack.
“I’m too old for this,” Piper muttered behind her. “I should have known I’m too old to risk everything like this. I’m sorry, Jack. I was desperate and didn’t know what else to do.”
“You’re doing the right thing now,” Jack answered, although his eyes were only on Grace and Emma. “Cooperate and things will go much easier on you.”
“I’ll tell you everything. Names, dates, shipments, whatever you want to know. Serves that bitch right—”
The rest of his sentence was cut off as the world exploded into chaos. A sharp, thunderous gunshot blasted through the huge hangar and Piper screamed, a high-pitched, terrible sound. She heard him go down behind her, heard the sickening crack as his head hit concrete.
Grace didn’t even think about it, she immediately dropped to the ground, her body shielding Emma’s, just in time to hear another shot echo through the hangar. Over the little girl’s head, she tried to see what was going on.
To her horror, Beau was on the ground about ten feet from the jet, blood soaking the front of his shirt. The second shot must have hit him. She thought she could see the slight rise and fall of his chest but other than that, he didn’t move at all.
It was so much like before, like that terrible day at Marisa’s school. For an instant, her vision dimmed and she felt the air leave her lungs, the blood rush from her face.
Beau. Dear God, not Beau. He was annoying and abrasive but he was all she had left and she loved him.
Agonized fury exploded within her and she jerked her head around, trying to identify the shooter’s location. She didn’t know why she was shocked when Sydney Benedict stepped out from behind the jet.
Jack’s assistant looked perfectly composed, her typical cool, sophisticated self in a designer suit and high heels. The only jarring notes were the wild rage in her blue eyes and the sleek gun she held, aimed directly at Grace and Emma.
Jack, still standing near the doorway to the offices, looked as stunned as Grace felt but he didn’t back away from the woman. “Syd, what the hell is going on?” he asked.
“Figure it out.” Her voice dripped venom. “I had a great thing going until that stupid idiot over there on the floor had to go and ruin it all. If he had just stayed calm like I told him and kept his big mouth shut, nothing would have happened. All the signs would have pointed right at you, just like I planned it. You would have gone down and he and I would have been able to take over GSI and do what we wanted with it.”
“I can’t believe you would do this.”
“I’m sure you can’t. To you, I’m just your efficient little secretary, making your phone calls and typing your stupid letters. You have no idea how much I’ve done for this company. If it weren’t for me, there wouldn’t be a GSI. You’re nothing without me.”
“What is it you want?” he asked.
“Same thing Einstein over there had in mind. I want a free ride out of the country. I think I’d enjoy St. Croix, don’t you? Jack, darling, care to give me a lift?”
He growled an oath. “Forget it.”
The arm holding the gun swung back toward Grace and Emma. “Which one would you like me to take out first to show you I’m serious? The kid or your lovely new girlfriend?”
From her vantage point on the floor with a sobbing child underneath her, she could see panic flare in his green eyes. He quickly contained it and stepped forward. “Neither. I’ll take you wherever you want to go. Just leave them alone.”
“Ah, Jack. So noble. On second thought, why don’t we just take them both along with us. I’m sure they’d love to see the Caribbean and they’ll be my little insurance policy to prevent you from pulling anything stupid on the trip over.”
Their lives would be worthless the moment they stepped on the plane, Grace realized. If the woman was willing to shoot a Seattle cop in cold blood, she would have no qualms about finishing the job the moment she reached her destination.
She had to get them out of this. But how? There were a thousand things she would try if this were any other standoff, if she were just a cop taking on a street criminal. But this wasn’t any other standoff. The stakes were higher than anything she could have imagined.
If she failed, if she wasn’t able to disarm Sydney Benedict, Jack and Emma would pay the price.
She had to prote
ct them, above all else.
She bent her head low to whisper to Emma. “When I say so, jump up and run as fast as you can to your daddy, okay, sweetheart? You have to do just what I say.”
She would just have to count on Jack to take advantage of the distraction she was about to provide and take his daughter to a safe place where Sydney Benedict couldn’t reach them.
Emma nodded her head, her eyes frightened. Grace waited until Syd was almost upon them, then, with one last hug for courage, she murmured “Now,” in the little girl’s ear.
In one motion, she rolled off Emma and sprang to her feet, aiming an elbow into Sydney’s face as she went.
Not expecting the move or the blow, the woman didn’t have time to react other than to stumble back. Before she could fire, Grace was on her, grappling for control of the weapon and trying desperately not to think about the consequences if she failed.
The last thing Jack expected was for Emma to leap up and come charging at him. One minute he was watching in stunned disbelief, his blood pumping sluggishly through his veins as he realized Grace was making a crazy, suicidal move for the gun, the next, he had a tiny torpedo in his arms.
Emma threw her arms around him and hugged tightly and he returned the embrace, consumed with relief. She was okay. He couldn’t believe it, but she was really okay.
Somehow, Grace must have told her to run to safety.
He wanted to bury his face in her curly blond hair and hold her like this for the rest of his life, but the danger wasn’t over yet, he realized. Sydney still held the handgun, although Grace’s tight grip on her arm kept it extended above her head where she couldn’t use it.
He pushed Emma behind him, into the first office. “Stay here, sweetheart. Whatever you do, stay here. I’ll be right back for you, I promise.”
Without waiting for her answer, he shut the door and stepped back into the hangar, to find Grace and Syd still locked in a deadly struggle for control of the weapon, the two of them edging ever closer to the jet.
Grace looked small and delicate next to Syd’s height and he had no idea how she could even be holding her own.
Muscles straining with exertion, Grace focused all her energy on forcing the woman to let go of the gun. Jack’s secretary was several inches taller than her and in better physical shape.
Before the car explosion, Grace could have taken her easily, especially with the upper body strength she built up working on the docks. She’d regained much of her tone since then but it wasn’t quite enough to overpower the taller woman.
She could feel herself wavering, feel her energy reserves dwindle. Just before her muscles would have given out, before Syd would have won, she glanced over and saw Beau on the ground, terribly pale and still.
It was all the impetus she needed. With a last furious heave, she pushed Syd against the side of the Learjet and slammed her wrist against the metal skin of the airplane.
She heard the crunch of bone and Syd’s screech of pain as the gun flew through the air to land harmlessly several feet away. Syd hissed, like a feral cat, then sagged to the ground, holding her wrist.
A weight bigger than the jet next to her seemed to lift from Grace’s chest and she bent at the waist, panting from the exertion.
This time, she had done it.
For Beau, for Marisa, for Emma.
And for Jack. For the man who had given her back her life. Who had helped her begin to heal.
She closed her eyes and murmured a prayer of gratitude to a God she thought had forsaken her. But her prayer came a moment too soon.
With her eyes closed, she didn’t see Syd move until she felt her legs being swept out from under her. The breath oomphed out of her as her shoulder hit the concrete. Before she could catch it and climb up again, Syd scrambled for the gun.
No, no, no! Not now, not when she finally realized she wanted so very much to live.
“Syd, no! Drop it!” Jack yelled.
“Shut up, Jack!” Sydney snarled. “She’s ruined everything!”
The world seemed to move in slow motion, then. Sydney lifted her arm to shoot, and Grace was mesmerized by the deadly black mouth of the gun. She didn’t want that to be the last thing she saw before she died, she thought suddenly, so she shifted her gaze to the one person who meant more to her than anything else.
Jack’s expression was frozen with shock. I love you, she thought. Oh, Jack. I love you.
It was all she had time to think before the hangar suddenly shook with the boom of a gunshot that seemed to go on and on and on.
Grace closed her eyes and waited for the pain to explode in her. Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. No impact, no blood, no searing pain.
After a few seconds, she blinked her eyes open.
Syd was sprawled on the ground with her designer skirt up above her knees, her outstretched arm still holding the gun, and an angry red bloodstain blossoming on the silk of her blouse.
What just happened here?
Grace turned her face just enough to see Piper McCall propped up against the landing gear of the jet. He gave her a ghost of a grin and dropped his own gun back to the cement. “Told you I’d try to make sure you didn’t get hurt,” he wheezed.
Suddenly the hangar buzzed with activity—police, paramedics, even the airport fire department, although she wasn’t exactly sure why they had been called.
She looked for Jack but couldn’t find him through the people. He had probably gone to gather Emma from where he had stowed her, she thought. Just as he ought to do.
She drew in a ragged breath and forced her muscles to move again, then hurried through the crowd of rescue workers to reach Beau’s side. He was ashen, his mouth twisted in pain, but at least he was conscious.
She grabbed his hand tightly and he gave it a weak squeeze. “How are you?” she asked.
“I’ve had better days,” he muttered. “I knew Dugan was going to be trouble.”
She gave a watery laugh as relief cascaded over her. If he could rouse himself enough to complain, he would be okay. “I was so scared for you.”
“How do you think I felt when I came to and found you wrestling with a gun-toting Amazon? What in the hell were you thinking, Gracie?”
About protecting the people she loved. About making sure that this time they would be safe. But she knew she couldn’t explain it to him.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” she answered.
One of the paramedics tapped her arm. “Ma’am, I’m afraid you’ll have to give us some room now. We need to get him on a gurney.”
She nodded and gave Beau’s hand another squeeze. “I’ll see you at the hospital,” she murmured.
As soon as she stepped away from the crowd gathered around him, her gaze immediately collided with Jack’s. He stood in the doorway to the GSI offices, Emma snuggled tight in his arms, and he watched her over his daughter’s curls.
She couldn’t read the fierce expression there. All she knew was that the two of them were a family. A tight, loving unit where she could never hope to belong.
Standing there in the cavernous hangar amid the noise and bustle of a hundred people all talking at once, she had never felt so alone.
CHAPTER 19
Jack checked the slip of paper in his hand and compared it to the numbers hanging on the neat little bungalow.
They matched, but he still had a difficult time envisioning the shaggy-haired Beau Riley living in a house with a yard perfectly mowed, without a blade out of place.
This was definitely it, though, the address he’d finally coerced out of Riley from his hospital bed, after he had begged and pleaded and finally humbled himself a hell of a lot more than he had wanted to.
The address where he could find Grace.
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and watched rain trickle down the windshield while he tried to figure out what the hell he was doing here.
He had tried to stay away from her. She had made it painfully obvious she didn’t want an
ything more to do with him. Every time he came within a few feet of her that last time he had seen her—between answering questions for the police and handing Emma over to Lily’s capable arms and seeing Piper and Riley off in their respective ambulances, she turned away and suddenly became busy with something else.
Syd no longer had need of an ambulance. She was beyond anyone’s help. He couldn’t be sorry for it. She had threatened everything he cared about. The only thing he regretted was how blind he had been to her greed and ambition, and that she had ensnared Piper in her scheme.
By the time he was done talking to the police, Grace had vanished. The woman was getting pretty damn good at that little disappearing act of hers.
He had waited for her to collect her belongings from his house, but he finally realized this morning—four days after he’d ordered her to leave—that she wouldn’t be coming back.
If he wanted to talk to her, he was just going to have to rout her out.
He puffed out a breath and gazed at the little bungalow, with its white painted shutters and a climbing rosebush around the door that glistened in the rain.
It didn’t escape his attention that—except for the vast improvement in setting—this scene was remarkably reminiscent of the day he had gone looking for her at that miserable apartment.
He supposed he ought to be relieved she hadn’t gone back there, but he couldn’t quite find it in him to be grateful she was staying at Riley’s house. Even if the detective was still in the hospital recovering from the gunshot wound that narrowly missed his heart, Jack didn’t like the idea of Grace in his house, sleeping in his bed.
It shouldn’t matter to him, he knew it shouldn’t. But for some reason it did. No, not just some reason, he corrected himself. The truth was, he was jealous. Plain and simple. It was stupid and selfish but he was fiercely jealous of Detective Riley for the easy affection he shared with Grace.
He had seen the devastated shock in her eyes when she realized Riley had been shot, a look that conveyed a deep, lasting bond between her and her former partner. Grace had rushed to the cop’s side as soon as she realized the danger was past and hadn’t left it until he had been loaded into that ambulance.
Saving Grace Page 20