by Rita Herron
And he was not only a crook, but he was holding a gun on Cade.
“Now put down your weapon, Detective Muller, and we’ll sort this out.”
“There’s no sorting,” Cade said. “Pendergrass is a con artist. He used your daughter in his scheme. And this man kidnapped her. They’re both going to jail.”
“You’re right about Pendergrass, but Woody here works for me.”
“You hired someone to kidnap me?” Marci said, shocked.
Her father gave her a feeble but pleading look as if he knew he was in hot water and deserved it. “Honey, let me explain.”
“How can you explain?” Marci cried. “You deserted me and Kim and mom.” She gestured around her. “And now this?”
Anger flickered in her father’s eyes, and he walked over, lifted her hair and studied the bruise the kidnapper had caused when he’d knocked her unconscious. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, everything’s going to be all right.” His footsteps clicked as he strode over to the goon who’d kidnapped her and punched him in the face. “I told you not to hurt her.”
Marci’s heart ached. Dear God. Her father had hired the man who’d abducted her and scared her senseless.
“Dad,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”
Cade cleared his throat. “Sebastian, put down the gun and step away from Marci.”
But her father kept the gun trained as he untied Marci’s wrists. She shook her hands free, then leaned over and quickly unraveled the knots around her feet.
Suddenly Paul started to run, but Cade tackled him, and they fought on the floor. Paul screeched and bellowed as Cade flipped him face down, straddled him and slapped handcuffs on him.
Marci’s legs wobbled shakily as she stood. “Please, daddy, don’t hurt Cade.”
“You need to listen,” he said.
“Daddy, please, put down the gun,” Marci said. “I don’t want you to be hurt.”
His face crumpled with emotions, and he lowered his weapon. Cade rushed toward him, then ordered him to take a seat on the couch beside her kidnapper.
Cade’s partner raced into the room, took one look at Pendergrass lying on the floor wailing like a baby, then at her father who’d folded his hands, his jaw angry.
“It looks like you have everything under control,” Georgia said as she accessed the situation.
“We just need to haul them into lock-up,” Cade said.
Georgia shook her head. “Sorry, Muller, but we have to let Sebastian go.”
“What?” Cade swung his gaze up toward Georgia. “Why the hell would we do that?”
“I told you to let me explain.” Her father reached inside his jacket, and Marci froze, terrified he was going to pull another gun.
But instead he flashed a badge. “I work for the CIA. I’ve been tracking Pendergrass for over two years now.”
Marci gaped at him. “You…what?”
“You can’t be serious,” Cade muttered.
“He is,” Georgia said. “I just got off the phone with the captain.”
“But you were in jail with Paul,” Marci said, her voice full of accusations.
“I was undercover,” her father said, his face pinched. “I’m sorry but I couldn’t tell you, Marci.”
Tell her? She hadn’t seen or talked to him in years? Why would she have expected differently?
“I’ve been working undercover for two years tracking this jerk.” He shoved the ID at Cade. “He started his scams in Europe before he came to the states. Stole some pretty pricey artwork before he turned to real estate.”
Paul stirred, fighting against the handcuffs. “You played me,” he screeched.
Her father walked over and jerked Paul by the collar. “How does it feel to be conned, Mr. Podinsky?”
“And me?” Marci shouted. “What about me, Dad? You hired that man to shoot at me.”
Her father crossed the room to her. “He was just supposed to watch you, to scare you away from Pendergrass.”
“He kidnapped me,” Marci cried.
“I’m sorry about that, sweetheart.” He reached out to stroke her cheek but Marci jerked her face away.
She just wanted to go home and be alone. Every man in the room had lied to her, used her, hurt her…
She was done with all of them.
*~*~*~*
Cade wanted to comfort Marci, but he was still reeling from the turn of events. Her father’s shocking declaration made him furious. So like the feds and CIA to leave the local police in the dark.
And that asshole who’d shot at Marci and then kidnapped her – it was probably a good thing Marci’s father had knocked him unconscious or he might have killed the creep himself.
At least he could take pleasure in the pantywaist Pendergrass who was moaning and whining that he had been set up. Same old story.
“We have enough to hang him,” Sebastian told him.
Cade cut him a cold look. “You should have let me know what was going on.”
“You shouldn’t have slept with my daughter.”
Cade’s stomach twisted. Marci’s father was right. He had crossed the line.
And Marci had been hurt in the process. Still, it infuriated him that the man had had eyes on him. “You were watching? You had cameras?”
Marci must have overheard because she paled one minute, then looked as if she was going to spit nails at them the next.
“I was trying to protect my daughter.”
Marci rubbed at her wrists as she stood. “You gave up that right the day you walked out on me, Dad.”
*~*~*~*
Cade watched Marci turn her back on her father and him, and knew he’d royally messed up. He gestured toward Samuel Turner’s cohort.
“What do we do about this guy?” he asked Marci’s father.
“Uncuff him.” His jaw tightened. “But don’t worry. He’ll pay for how he treated my daughter.”
He heard the message loud and clear.
He would pay, too.
Only Marci’s father didn’t have to punish him. Just seeing the look of anguish in Marci’s eyes was bad enough.
Marci turned to Georgia. “Please take me home.”
“I’m sorry, Marci,” Georgia said. “We have to go to the station first. We’ll need your official statement for the records.”
“Kim is waiting for you there, too,” Cade added, although Marci refused to look at him. Instead, she wrapped her arms around her waist as if she needed to hold herself together.
She nodded, resigned, and Marci’s father uncuffed his partner, then slapped his face. “Wake up, you creep.”
The man slowly stirred, moaning as he rubbed his head.
“Get up,” Turner said. “It’s over.”
The progression outside was tense. Marci clung to Georgia as if she was her new best friend. Turner drove his hired gun while he shoved Pendergrass in his car and followed.
By the time they arrived at the station, Pendergrass had lapsed into a sullen silence.
Kim rushed toward Marci and dragged her into a hug. “I was so worried about you, sis. Are you okay?”
Marci nodded, although she looked numb.
“Take Pendergrass to lockup,” Turner said to one of the officers. “Detective Muller, is there an office I can use to talk to my daughters?”
Cade gestured down the hall. “Third door on the left.”
Marci folded her arms. “We don’t have anything to talk about.”
“Yes, we do,” Turner said in a no-nonsense voice. “Now, please, girls, let’s go.”
“Why? So you can interrogate me some more?” Marci asked with a dry look.
This time Turner looked pained. “No, so I can explain.”
Kim took Marci’s arm. “Come on, sis, the least we can do is listen.”
Marci clamped her lips together, shot her father a hate-filled look, but followed Kim and her father into his office.
Cade wanted to go inside and stand beside her, to comfort her, to yell at her fat
her for hurting her.
But he had hurt her, too.
So he remained rooted in place.
*~*~*~*
Marci’s emotions pinged all over the place. How many days and nights had she ached to have her father back in her life? To ask him where he’d been and why he’d abandoned them?
Why he hadn’t loved her enough to stay…
Knowing he’d come back and seen Kim and not her intensified the pain.
Kim sank onto the small loveseat in Cade’s office, but Marci folded her arms and leaned against his desk. Good heavens, his office smelled like him.
A hint of that minty aftershave he wore.
A hint of male sexuality that infuriated her all over again because she didn’t want to think about him.
Her father shifted, then paced the office.
“Dad?” Kim said. “What’s going on?”
He glanced at Marci, then quickly explained about his position at the CIA. Kim looked as shocked as she had been.
Marci took small comfort in that. At least her sister hadn’t known that he was undercover and watching her.
Had her father thought she was guilty of helping Paul?
“I met Podinsky, the man you know as Paul Pendergrass, years ago,” her father said. “But we never could get anything on him so I went undercover. That’s why I was in the jail with him. I had to win his trust, make him think that we were working together.”
“When you called Kim, you thought I was helping Paul?” Marci asked, unable to hide the hurt in her tone.
Her father’s steely gaze met hers. “No. I…Somehow Pendergrass must have caught on to who I was. I think that’s why he …introduced himself to you.”
The shockwaves just kept coming. “So he did use me to get back at you.”
A muscle jumped in her father’s cheek, and Marci couldn’t help but notice how much he’d aged. His hair was slightly gray at the temples, and age lines bracketed his mouth.
But his gray eyes were just as piercing.
“I’m sorry about that, Marci,” he said, his voice gruff. “Anyway, I was just about to arrest Pendergrass when Muller stopped your wedding.”
“So you were there?” Marci said, her eyes widening.
Her father grimaced. “Yes. I fired at Pendergrass so he wouldn’t escape.”
Marci shook her head in disbelief. “But you didn’t bother to come and talk to me ahead of time, to warn me…you let me go to the wedding and be blind sighted.”
Emotions clouded her father’s face. “I’m sorry, Marci, I was too close to getting him –”
“I thought you wanted to explain why you left,” Kim said, her voice icy.
For the first time since they’d come into the office, Marci realized Kim was angry, too.
Their father stopped pacing and knelt in front of both of them. “I do. I…God, it was a long time ago, but I had my reasons.”
“Yeah, a family slowed you down,” Kim said.
“You obviously didn’t love us enough to stay,” Marci fired back.
He sucked in a breath as if she’d slapped him. “That’s not true. I did love you. In fact that’s the reason I left.”
A tense heartbeat passed.
Marci fidgeted, but Kim rubbed her belly. “What do you mean?”
Their father cleared his throat. “I was deep undercover back then, and had planned to testify against the leader of a mob ring. He threatened you girls and your mother.” He raked a hand over the back of his neck with a sigh. “The only way to keep you safe was to cut ties. My work was too dangerous. I couldn’t have lived if anything had happened to you girls or your mother.”
Marci chewed her bottom lip. He sounded sincere, but she wasn’t ready to forgive him.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Kim asked.
He heaved a breath. “You were so little you wouldn’t have understood.”
“Does Mom know?” Marci asked.
He scrubbed his hand down his chin. “No, your mother would have tried to convince me not to leave.”
“Because she loved you,” Marci cried. She stabbed him with her finger. “But you broke her heart. You let all three of us think you didn’t care. That’s why Mom hates marriage and didn’t come to my wedding.”
True sorrow flickered in his expression. “I’m sorry, Marci – ”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” She cut him off. “You’re a coward. If you’d really loved us, loved me, you would have come to me about Paul and told me the truth instead of going to Kim behind my back. You wouldn’t have hidden in the shadows at my wedding like that.”
Shaking with hurt, she stormed past him. Detective Strait was standing outside the room, and Marci went to her. “Will you take me home now? Please?”
The detective studied her for a moment, then nodded. Marci followed her out to her car. All she wanted to do was be alone.
And to forget about the men who’d torn out her heart and stomped on it.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Cade had been hunting down Pendergrass for so long that he’d thought seeing the con man behind bars would make him happy.
But knowing he’d caught him at Marci’s expense destroyed any semblance of pleasure.
Still, while she spoke with her father, he made sure Pendergrass was secure for the night. Then he raced back upstairs, hoping to catch Marci.
But Kim and her husband were waiting in his office and Marci was gone. “Where is she?”
“Your partner drove her home,” Kim said.
“I need to go after her.” He started to leave but Turner caught his arm.
“Give her time, Detective Muller.”
“Like you did?” he asked sharply.
Turner winced. “You’re right. What do I know?”
Kim wagged an accusatory finger in the air as Cade started to blast Marci’s father. “You’ve both treated her horribly, so leave her alone.” Kim took her husband’s hand. “Austin, let’s go.”
Her husband rubbed her shoulders. “Of course.” McDane frowned at Turner as if he had no idea what to say.
“I’ll be in touch, Kim,” her father said.
She gave him a non-committal look, then left with her husband.
With Kim out of the way, Turner turned to him, sparring for a fight. “You shouldn’t have screwed my daughter.”
“I didn’t screw her.” Cade balled his hands into fists. “I care about her.”
Turner arched a gray eyebrow. “Then what are you going to do about it?”
Cade had no idea. “Make it up to her somehow.”
His mind ticked away the possibilities. The first thing he could do was to let people know Marci was innocent.
“I’m going to call a press conference now,” he said.
“Good idea,” Turner said. “You handle it while I interrogate Pendergrass and find out where he stashed his victim’s money.”
“You don’t want to address the public?” Cade asked. “After all, this is your big bust.”
“No. I don’t want my face in the camera,” Turner said. “I got what I wanted. The man won’t be conning any more women. And he’s going to pay for hurting my daughter.”
Finally Cade felt like they were on the same side.
*~*~*~*
Tension vibrated in the silence as Detective Strait drove Marci to her apartment. When she pulled in, Marci turned to her with a sigh. “Thank you, Detective.”
“No problem.”
She reached for the door but the woman caught her arm. “Wait, I have something I want to say to you.”
“No need for an I-told-you so,” Marci said. “I know I’m stupid, that I should have seen that Paul was only using me.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
Marci narrowed her eyes. “Oh, god, you still think I’m guilty.”
“That’s not it either.” The detective twitched, looking uncomfortable for a moment. “Actually I wanted to apologize. I was rough on you at the station when we first
brought you in, and said some things that weren’t true.”
“Oh, they were true all right,” Marci conceded. “Only an idiot would have fallen for Paul’s lies.”
“You’re not an idiot, Marci, so stop beating yourself up,” she said. “You’re one of the sweetest, toughest women I’ve ever met.”
Marci shook herself. She had to be hearing wrong. “What?”
“It’s true. You only fell for Paul’s lies because you have a big heart and an innocence about you.” She hesitated, her voice contrite. “Sometimes I wish I still had that. But the job…it makes it hard to trust.”
“I can see how it would,” Marci said, thinking back over the last few days.
“But that’s not all,” the detective said. “I think I was jealous of you.”
“Of me?” A light clicked on in Marci’s head. “Oh, I get it. You have a thing for Cade.”
“No,” Detective Strait said with a chuckle. “That’s not it at all.”
“Then what is it?”
A blush stained the woman’s cheeks. “It’s just that you’re pretty and kind, and I understand why people are drawn to you.” She reached out and squeezed Marci’s hand. “So don’t let what happened take that away from you. Don’t stop believing in the good in people.”
Marci studied her for a long moment. “I don’t know if I can believe anymore. Paul and Cade used me.”
“About Cade,” the detective said. “I know you’re mad and hurt right now. But listen to me. Cade is a good cop, and he never ever gets involved with a suspect.”
“I know that now,” Marci said, “it was all an act.”
“I don’t think so. Cade has never done this before, never slept with a suspect or anyone he’s had in his protective custody.”
Marci let those words sink in. “What are you trying to say?”
“That he must really care about you,” Georgia said. “So…don’t give up on him.”
Marci wanted to believe her. But after they’d made love, he’d thrown that picture of her and her father at her.
“Thanks, Detective Strait. But I’m done with men.” Marci shrugged, then touched the woman’s hair. “My offers for highlights still stands though.” She leaned closer to study the ends of Georgia’s dark hair. “You know, I’m thinking a few red streaks, or maybe blonde…”