Gabriel's Honor

by Barbara Mccauley

  To say goodbye.

  “I’ll send Ian.” Cara gave Melanie a hug. “Why don’t you check on Kevin while I make the coffee.”

  Forcing herself to think about Kevin and not her aching heart, Melanie hurried up the stairs. She paused at the top and glanced at the open door to Mildred’s bedroom. Her hand tightened on the top rail as she remembered how she and Gabe had made love.

  If only, she thought, then shook her head and went to take care of her son.

  “What do you mean, ‘The Sarbanes woman spotted me’?” Vincent hissed furiously into the phone as he paced back and forth beside the Van Camp pool. After a long day with Louise bitching at him and still no word on the phone records for Melissa’s friend, Vincent had at least been looking forward to a swim. Something told him he was going to be deprived of even that small indulgence.

  This Sarbanes woman was turning out to be as big a pain in the butt as Melissa.

  “What the hell were you doing, you stupid moron,” Vincent snapped, “dancing naked in front of her apartment?”

  “No, Vinnie, I swear,” Pinkie Pascal whined from a pay phone outside the bathrooms at The Bare Club Bar. Hard rock music from the dance floor vibrated the cracked plaster walls, and a volley of male shouts and whistles encouraged Miss Lolly Pop to remove the sailor shirt she’d worn for tonight’s performance. Pinkie shot a glance at the well-endowed woman, then quickly turned his attention back to the telephone. “I was careful, boss, really careful, but all of a sudden these two cops are hassling me, asking me what I’ve been doing hanging around and why.”

  Idiots, Vincent thought and his hand tightened on the phone. He was surrounded by idiots. “And why does that mean the Sarbanes woman spotted you?” Vincent asked. “How do you know it wasn’t a neighbor who reported some ugly guy hanging around?”

  Pinkie had to raise his voice over the cheers from the audience. “’Cause I went back that night, you know, changed my clothes, wore a hat, then just sort of watched from a distance, and guess who comes out all dolled up in high heels and a tight dress.”

  Patience, Vincent thought angrily, dealing with stupid people required patience. “Who came out?” Vincent asked through clenched teeth.

  “The Sarbanes woman,” Pinkie said breathlessly. “I hadn’t got a real good look at her before then, but hot damn is that one knockout woman. I swear my eyeballs melted just looking at her and—”

  “Dammit, Pinkie,” Vincent shouted into the phone. Enough with patience. “If you don’t tell me something I want to hear right now, I’m going to fly to Boston myself and rip out your damn liver.”

  “She was with one of the cops that hassled me,” Pinkie said excitedly. “She was hanging on his arm like they were best friends. So the way I see it—”

  “She knows about us,” Vincent finished for Pinkie. “She’d probably been watching for us, then got cozy with the cops so they would bust you. Dammit!” He kicked a lawn chair and sent it flying. “If she went to all that trouble, then that means she’s been in touch with Melissa.”

  And if she’d been in touch with Melissa, Vincent thought, then the women must have some kind of plan.

  “Do you want me to keep watching her?” Pinkie asked hopefully. The money had been enough to keep him in booze and women and a little extra playtime with his bookie, too. “I’ll keep out of sight, she won’t even—”

  “You’re done.” Vincent stood at the edge of the Van Camp pool and stared at the sparkling blue water. The smell of chlorine filled the warm, Southern California night air. “Get your butt back here now.”

  He clicked off the portable phone and tossed it onto a lounge chair.

  He’d only been guessing that Melissa might contact her old friend, reaching for any and all long shots. It seemed that this one had paid off, even though the Sarbanes woman had outsmarted them this time.

  He needed those phone records, dammit. His contact at the phone company had been dragging his feet, but Vincent knew that everyone had their price. He’d just have to double the inducement he’d already offered. He was certain there would be a number in those records that would lead him to Melissa.

  And if he didn’t get that phone log in a few days, then maybe he’d just have to go pay this Raina Sarbanes a visit himself. Convince her to tell him where Melissa was hiding.

  Vincent narrowed his eyes and smiled. “I’m coming for you, Melissa, baby. Any day now, it’s you and me.”

  Invigorated by the thought, he dived into the warm water and swam.

  Chapter 9

  By seven-thirty the next morning, Gabe had prepared himself for a fight. He’d spent half the night in his garage beating the hell out of his punching bag, and the other half pacing while he cursed Melanie and her damn stubborn streak. He’d also gone a few rounds with Jack Daniel’s, but even that hadn’t eased the storm raging inside him. He’d showered and shaved, and for the past hour he’d simply been driving around, mentally preparing himself for a confrontation with Melanie.

  She wasn’t going anywhere, dammit. He wouldn’t let her.

  He’d nearly taken some of his frustration out on Ian last night when his brother-in-law had come outside and talked to him while Cara and Melanie had coffee in the house. Gabe had intended to wait until his sister and brother-in-law had left, then go back in and have it out with Melanie. Ian had quickly recognized Gabe’s mood and told him to go home and come back in the morning when he’d calmed down. In two short words, Gabe had told Ian what he thought of that idea, but in his gut Gabe knew that Ian was right and he’d finally—reluctantly—given in.

  Still, he hadn’t left quietly. Dirt and gravel had flown in all directions as his truck had roared down the driveway, and he’d downshifted so hard he’d ground out second gear. Costly and childish, but he’d had to do something to release the frustration gripping him or he would have gone back in the house and done something really stupid—like tie her up or lock her in the basement.

  Even now, with the rise of dawn, he still hadn’t ruled out those options.

  With a death-grip on his steering wheel, he turned into the driveway and parked behind the house as he always did. He drew in a long, deep breath and stepped out of his truck, then quickly ducked into the side door of the garage to make sure her car was still here. He’d known it would be, of course, because he’d disconnected her coil wire the night before. Heavy-handed, but he felt no guilt. He wasn’t taking any chances that she might have left before they talked.

  Her hood was up.

  Dammit. So she had tried to leave.

  Furious, he spun on his heels, muttering curses as he headed for the house. Leaves crunched under his boots; his balled fists swung at his sides. He’d told himself all the way over here that no matter what, he’d be calm, but firm. Logical, but insistent. Now that he was here all he wanted to do was shout.

  Clenching his jaw, he was reaching for the back door when it flew open and Melanie stood there. Panic etched her face; her eyes were bright with moisture.

  “Gabe! Thank God you’re here!”

  He opened his mouth, but she had already turned and was dashing back through the kitchen, then disappeared into the living room.

  What the hell?

  Frowning, he hesitated, then started to follow, but she burst back through the door with Kevin in her arms. They were both dressed and wearing their jackets. Her son lay limply in her arms, with his flushed face pressed against her chest.

  “He woke up half an hour ago with a fever,” she choked out. “I tried to call you, but there was no answer, and then my car wouldn’t start and I didn’t know how—”

  “Give him to me.”

  Equal doses of shame and fear shot through him, but he’d deal with both emotions later. He reached for Kevin, gently pulled him from his mother’s arms into his own, and headed for the door. Kevin whimpered softly, and Gabe felt the burn of the child’s hot skin against his own neck.

  Melanie hurried to the truck, buckled herself in, then took her
son back into her arms and settled him against her while Gabe climbed in and started the truck. The engine roared to life and Gabe headed for Bloomfield County Emergency.

  “I should have seen the signs. He had a short nap and was so cranky when he woke up, then last night he fell asleep before ice cream and cake.” Melanie rocked a very still Kevin in her arms, pressed her lips to his forehead. “He gets ear infections from time to time, but he hasn’t had one for a while. I was hoping that he’d outgrown them.”

  Kevin cried softly and put his hand to his ear. Gabe felt as if a knife were ripping through his chest. As far as sickness went, his brothers had all been old enough to take care of themselves after their parents had died. Cara had been a teenager, but other than a mild case of the flu and a sprained ankle, she’d been self-sufficient, too. He’d never dealt with a young child being sick before, never experienced this gripping sense of helplessness.

  He concentrated on the road, drove fast, but carefully, and held his jaw so tight he thought his teeth might crack.

  Melanie murmured softly to Kevin, then looked up suddenly. “Gabe, I’m sorry, but I may not have enough money for—”

  “Don’t say it.” He stopped her, wanted to be angry that she would even hesitate to think he wouldn’t take care of Kevin. But he couldn’t be angry with her about anything at the moment. “Don’t even think about it,” he said gently. “Please.”

  He glanced at her, felt his throat thicken as he watched a single tear slide down her soft cheek. It was the first time he’d seen her cry, and the sight of it clawed at his insides.

  They reached the hospital in record time and Kevin was taken in immediately. The doctor confirmed that Kevin did indeed have an ear infection, as Melanie had thought. A bad one, but not serious. An antibiotic and pain medication was prescribed, plus lots of rest and a recheck in one week. A lollipop from the nurse almost brought a smile to Kevin’s lips, and when Gabe gathered the sick child back into his arms and carried him to the truck, he knew his heart was lost forever.

  She made the coffee strong, poured it black and steaming into a mug, then set the cup on the kitchen table in front of Gabe. “Can I make you some breakfast?”

  He shook his head. “Melanie, he’s asleep now, just sit down for a minute.”

  Kevin’s fever had started to drop soon after he’d taken his medication, and he’d closed his eyes the minute Gabe had laid him on the sofa in the living room. Melanie had tucked a soft blue blanket around her son, slipped his favorite teddy bear under his arm, then come out in the kitchen and made coffee.

  “It wouldn’t be any problem.” She was too keyed up not to do something. “I’ve got eggs and bacon, or some pancakes—”

  “Melanie, sit down.” Gabe reached out and took hold of her wrist, then tugged her onto the kitchen chair. “You look exhausted.”

  She could only imagine what she looked like after less than two hours’ sleep last night and then the ordeal with Kevin this morning. She glanced at Gabe, saw the red tinge in the whites of his eyes and the heavy droop of his lids. “So do you.”

  He rose, poured her a cup of coffee, then set it in front of her as he sat back down at the table. “We could both use a jump start.”

  “Thank you.” Not certain what to do with her hands, she wrapped them around the hot mug. The heat felt good against her cold fingers. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up when you did,” she said quietly.

  “You could have called Lucian or Reese or Callan and Abby. And Cara and Ian, of course, but they’re farther away.” He leaned forward, softened his voice. “We’re all here for you and Kevin.”

  His words made her eyes burn with tears, and she quickly blinked them away. “I know, and that means more to me than you can imagine. It’s just…been a long time since I’ve asked anyone for help.” She glanced up and smiled weakly. “I’m out of practice.”

  She saw the question in his eyes, but he didn’t ask. He just waited.

  Closing her eyes on a sigh, she sat back in her chair, felt the weariness seep into her bones. “I was only eleven when my father died,” she said softly, then opened her eyes and stared at the steam rising from her coffee. “My mother had a difficult time meeting the bills, but mostly she just hated not having a man to take care of her. She remarried when I was fourteen to a dentist who didn’t want children, especially another man’s. I was in the way, so I spent most of my teenage years at my friend Raina’s house. After high school, Raina went away to college, but I stayed local. I was working as a salesclerk at an antique store to support myself and pay for school. That’s where I met my husband. He’d come into the store looking for a birthday present for his mother.”

  It felt like a lifetime, she thought, though it had only been six years ago. Six long, life-altering years.

  “He was handsome and charming, and he said he’d keep coming back every day until I agreed to go out with him,” Melanie said wistfully. “On the fifth day I finally did agree, but it was our third date before I found out that he was also wealthy.”

  She watched Gabe’s face harden, and she couldn’t help but smile. “I didn’t marry him for his money. In fact, I turned him down several times because of it. We were from completely different backgrounds, and I knew his family didn’t approve of me. I realized much later, of course, that was partly why he was so determined to marry me. I was his own personal revenge against his parents for dominating his life. That, and the fact that I wouldn’t sleep with him. Phillip was a man who was used to getting what he wanted. For him, sex had nothing to do with love.”

  “And for you?” Gabe picked up his coffee, took a sip while he watched her over the rim.

  “I was young and naive,” she said with a shrug. “Phillip could be very charming when he wanted something and I thought he loved me. I was certain I loved him. But I realized later it was about security, about being taken care of, just as it had been with my mother. If she hadn’t died in my second year of college, I know she would have been thrilled I was marrying into money. She would have considered that extremely successful.”

  “What did you consider it?”

  He’d asked the question calmly, but Melanie heard the underlying tension in Gabe’s voice. He needed to know about Phillip, she understood, just as much as she realized she needed to tell him.

  “We were happy for the first year,” she said, drawing in a long breath, “though we did disagree about my working. He won, of course. He always won. He wanted me home, like one of his possessions.” She lifted her coffee cup, set it back down without taking a sip. “Then I got pregnant and everything changed.”

  Gabe frowned at her. “He didn’t want children?”

  “He insisted I have an abortion.”

  Gabe’s knuckles went white on his coffee cup, and he slowly lowered it to the table. Melanie nearly shivered from the black violence that glinted sharply in his eyes. What he called her ex-husband was unrepeatable in front of children and gentle ears, but quite accurate, Melanie thought.

  “Whatever love I felt for Phillip died at that moment,” she said evenly. “He told me he wanted to wait, and that after we’d had more time alone together we would have children. But I still refused to do it, of course. It was the first time I’d defied him, and he was furious. In my fifth month of pregnancy, when I started to show, he stayed away from the house a lot, on the pretense of working or traveling, but we both knew he simply didn’t want to be around a fat, pregnant woman. I suspected an affair, but wasn’t certain until after Kevin was born. I threatened to leave him, but he swore it was nothing and it would never happen again.”

  Other than what she’d had to tell her lawyer, Melanie had never told anyone about her marriage. It almost felt as if she were telling someone else’s story. The wife wronged, the cheating, overbearing husband. It was all so pathetic.

  And yet, strangely, she wasn’t humiliated telling Gabe. She felt lighter somehow, more free than she had in a very long time.


  She moistened her lips, stared at her coffee cup and continued, “When Kevin was finally old enough for me to work part-time, I defied Phillip again and went back to work with a large antique company handling acquisitions and auctions. I loved the work, and since I could take Kevin with me most of the time, it was perfect for me. Phillip and I rarely even saw each other. I was busy with work, and he was busy with his latest girlfriend.”

  Gabe swore, shook his head. “Why didn’t you just leave the bastard?”

  “I finally did, even got my own place, but my mother-in-law convinced me that Phillip was just acting out his grief over his father’s recent death and that with a little therapy he’d be fine. As difficult as it was, I still thought that because he was the father of my baby, he had certain rights and that I should try to make it work, no matter what. So I went back.”

  She sighed, ran a hand through her hair. “When the affairs continued, I finally realized that staying was doing more harm than good to Kevin and me, and I filed for divorce. He refused to give me one, of course, and fought me with his high-priced lawyers. He wasn’t one to admit he was wrong, and he wasn’t about to let go without making it very messy. It surprised us both that I hung in there and refused to come back to him.”

  Gabe’s chair screeched across the wooden floor as he stood. He moved stiffly to the counter, reached for the coffeepot, then slammed it back down and turned to face her. “I’d like to get my hands on that son of a—”

  “Gabe,” she cut him off. “He’s dead.”

  He stilled, then stared at her so hard she started to laugh. “I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re thinking. He was killed in a boating accident.” Her smile faded as she shook her head. “I will admit, though, I was tempted several times.”

  Melanie watched Gabe rake his hands through his hair, and in spite of the moment, in spite of the conversation, she couldn’t help but remember how she’d ran her own fingers through that thick, dark hair only last night. Her fingers itched now to touch him again, to feel his strength under her hands, to feel him move inside her.