Molly smiled with pride, forming deep dimples in her plump cheeks. “Jewel says I’m ready to trot.”
Kyle motioned to Laura. “This is Miss Quinlan.”
“Hi,” Molly said. “Did you come to ride?”
Laura shook her head. “I came to meet you. What’s your pony’s name?”
Molly’s Kewpie-doll mouth lifted in a mischievous grin. “Guess.”
“Molly loves guessing games,” Kyle explained.
“How many guesses do I get?” Laura asked.
Molly scrunched up her face, considering, then held up three pudgy fingers. “Free. And no fair helping, Daddy.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” he said with a straight face. “But what’s Miss Quinlan’s prize if she guesses right?”
“A kiss,” Molly said.
“You’ll kiss me if I guess your pony’s name?” Laura asked.
Molly shook her head. “No, Daddy will. He’s the best kisser.”
Kyle stifled a grin at the startled expression and subsequent flush on Laura’s face. “Okay, Laura. Give it your best shot.”
Laura thought for a moment. “Is it Dudley?”
Molly laughed. “No, Dudley’s a silly name for a pony.”
“Of course. I’ll have to do better.” Laura closed her eyes to concentrate.
Kyle noted the thick, black lashes lying long against her cheeks and hoped she managed to come up with the right answer. He wouldn’t mind kissing Laura Quinlan. All in the spirit of Molly’s game, of course.
Laura tried again. “Bigfoot?”
Molly shrieked with delighted laughter and shook her head.
Kyle cast Laura a teasing look. “I don’t think you’re really trying. Afraid you’ll win?”
Her blue eyes flashed. “I want to win!”
He raised his eyebrows. “Hungry for one of my kisses?”
She flushed again, shook her head and stated primly, “I have an innate competitive streak.”
“One more guess,” Molly prompted her.
“Hmm.” Laura wrinkled her forehead in thought. “This one will have to be good.”
Kyle smiled at Molly. “Give her a hint, doodlebug.”
Molly turned to Laura. “You wear ’em in your hair.”
Kyle looked at Laura. “You can’t miss with a clue like that.”
“Something you wear in your hair,” Laura repeated. She threw Kyle a teasing glance. “That’s easy. Your pony’s name is Barrette.”
“No,” Molly squealed. “It’s Ribbons.”
“Darn.” Laura snapped her fingers. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Yeah, why didn’t you?” A surprising wave of disappointment washed over him. He’d been looking forward to awarding Laura’s prize.
Molly’s smile crumpled. “I’m sorry you didn’t win.”
Laura reached across the rail and patted Molly’s hand. “It’s all right. I tried my best. That’s what matters.”
“I know.” Molly’s face brightened. “I’ll give you a kiss.”
Kyle’s stomach flip-flopped at the yearning he saw on Laura’s face. He’d known she liked kids. She’d been terrific with the schoolchildren trapped in the capitol. But now he could see the raw longing in her eyes. Here was a woman who should have children of her own. He wondered why she didn’t.
“Lean over,” Molly ordered.
Laura stood on tiptoe and stretched across the railing. Molly puckered her lips and planted a loud kiss on Laura’s rosy cheek.
“Now,” Molly said in what Kyle realized was an imitation of his own condolences to his daughter. “All better?”
“Much.” Laura’s eyes sparkled, but Kyle couldn’t tell if tears or sunshine caused the shimmer.
“Molly,” Jewel shouted from across the corral. “You gonna ride or sit there jawing all morning?”
Molly looked to Kyle. “Have to go, Daddy. Bye, Miss Kwin—” She scrunched her face as she struggled over Laura’s last name.
“Call me Laura.”
“Bye, Laura. If you come back, we can play another game.”
“I’d like that.” Laura watched Molly ride away, the stark hunger still on her face.
“You like kids,” Kyle said.
As if embarrassed by how much her expression had given away, Laura composed her features. “I do, and I especially like Molly. She’s delightful.”
He waved to Molly again and turned away from the corral. “I always thought so, but then I’m biased.”
Laura glanced at her watch. “It’s late. I should get back to the lab.”
“Miss Quinlan—”
“Laura.”
“Okay, Laura. If you can spare me a few more minutes, I have something important to discuss with you.”
“Sounds serious.”
“It is.”
“But I really have work—”
“It concerns your father’s killers.”
Her lovely features paled, and her delicate jaw set in determination. “You know who they are?”
“We can talk in my cabin.”
She raised a dark, feathered eyebrow. “Why can’t we talk here?”
He nodded toward the ranch hands coming and going as they exercised horses, mucked out the stables and herded their charges toward the pastures. “Too many ears.”
“Well…”
“If you’re worried about your honor, I’ll leave the door open,” he said with a wicked grin.
She smiled and shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. C.J. says you’re a man to be trusted.”
“I appreciate the endorsement.” He took her elbow and steered her gently toward one of the large cabins that ringed the swimming pool. “Molly and I take most of our meals at the main house, but we call this cabin home.”
He led her up the steps to the wide front porch of the log cabin, opened the door and stepped aside for her to enter. Following her inside, he saw his living quarters as if through her eyes. The large, open room served as living room, dining room and kitchenette. Two bedrooms, divided by a bathroom, opened off the rear.
Molly’s toys were scattered on the floor, newspapers littered the coffee table, and one of his shirts hung on the back of a chair. Moving with lightning speed, he kicked a path clear through the toys, scooped up the papers and shirt. After depositing his armload in his bedroom and closing the door, he turned back to Laura.
“Sorry for the mess. We weren’t expecting company.”
“No need to apologize. I won’t faint over a little clutter. Daddy always—” She bit her bottom lip as if holding back her words, and the pained look returned to her eyes.
She’d been brave in the bombed-out building, and Kyle could see that she was being brave now, accepting the terrible burden of loss, keeping her magnificent head high, in spite of the bruised look around her eyes and the delicate slope of her shoulders.
He waved her to a seat on the sofa that matched the ones in the main house and slid into a chair across from her.
She lifted her head and summery blue eyes focused on him like magnets. “What about Daddy’s killers?”
He leaned toward her, aching to take her hands in his, wanting to ease her pain. “It’s a long story.”
“Then you’d better start at the beginning.”
“I’m not a cowboy.”
“What?”
If the situation had been less grim, he might have laughed at her confusion, but the situation was critical. Josiah Quinlan had been murdered, terrorists had their hands on one of the most lethal biological weapons ever invented and Laura had a traitor working in her lab. Kyle needed her help to smoke him out and bring the Black Order to justice.
“None of us here are really cowboys. Frank’s ex-military, Court’s ex-FBI and I’m a former cop from Los Angeles.”
Her eyes clouded with confusion. “But this ranch, the horses—”
“Daniel Austin bought this ranch as a base of operations for our group of undercover agents for the Department of Public Safety.�
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She shook her head, dazed by the news. “And no one else knows?”
“Not even the hands who work here. Only the foreman, Patrick McMurty, and his wife and granddaughter are aware of our real purpose.”
“And C.J.?”
Kyle nodded. “Frank didn’t just happen to be on that plane with C.J. He’d been sent to protect her.”
“Protect her from whom?”
“Everything I’m telling you is confidential. If not, more people could die.”
She nodded solemnly.
“There’s a terrorist organization called the Black Order operating in the United States.”
“I’ve never heard of them.”
“Not many have—yet. The group’s home base is the Middle Eastern Emirate of Agar. Their headquarters are hidden in the mountain caves of that country. Although the emir professes not to endorse their actions, he also does nothing to catch them, either.”
“And their purpose?”
He admired her coolheadedness, her grasp of what was important. “They’re religious and political zealots who despise Western ideology. Their primary purpose is to wreak havoc and destruction among their enemies.”
“Like the capitol bombing.” Her voice sounded raw with pain.
“That was only a diversion. Their major purpose is to obtain biological weapons of mass destruction.”
Her eyes widened, and she started to speak but didn’t.
“It’s okay,” he said. “We know about the theft of the D-5.”
“And you think the Black Order took it?” Horror etched her face. She knew what D-5 could do, and now she knew the ruthlessness of the terrorists who’d stolen it.
“We’re almost positive. Remember when C.J.’s plane went down, the one bringing her to work at the Quinlan Institute?”
Laura nodded. “A terrible—” She paused, awareness lighting her face. “It wasn’t an accident, was it?”
“Gilad, a member of the Black Order, wanted to kidnap C.J., to force her to share her knowledge of biological weapons with their group, to prevent her from helping the Institute to develop antidotes and vaccines.”
Laura seemed in shock. She’d already suffered so much, he wished for a merciful way to tell her, but the truth was too ugly to go down easy.
“You knew the plane accident was going to happen?” she asked.
“Not for sure. We sent Frank to take care of her, just in case.”
Laura smiled. “He more than took care of her. He fell in love with her.”
Kyle was happy to see her smile return, like the sun coming out after a rainy day. “Frank’s a lucky guy.”
Laura’s happy expression faded fast. “Daddy received warnings weeks ago to tighten security. He did all he could, but he didn’t have the funds to provide all the safeguards he wanted.”
Kyle reached across and grasped her hands. Her icy fingers didn’t resist. “We need your help, Laura.”
She lifted her chin, her mouth open with surprise. “My help? I know nothing about tracking terrorists.”
Kyle gripped her cold hands tighter. “We think the Black Order has an accomplice, someone working inside the Institute.”
She yanked her hands from his and turned away, denial evident in her posture. “That can’t be. Daddy thoroughly checked the background of everyone on the staff.”
“I’m sure he did,” Kyle said placatingly. “But people can change.”
“Change? What are you saying?”
“Bribery or blackmail has led many good people astray.”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe it. I won’t believe it. It’s too horrible.”
Kyle stood, grasped her slender shoulders and lifted her to her feet. She was only a few inches shorter than his five foot eleven, so he had to dip his head only slightly to stare straight into her breathtaking blue eyes. “The theft had to be an inside job.”
She turned her head to avoid his piercing gaze. “But they came in from the outside, cut the fence, forced the lock—”
Catching hold of her chin, he turned her face toward his. “But once inside, they knew exactly where to go to find what they needed. Someone gave them directions.”
She sank back into her chair. “If that’s true—”
“Believe it, Laura. There’s no other explanation.”
“Then the traitor’s still there.”
He nodded. “That’s where you come in.”
“You want me to catch him?”
Kyle knelt beside her. “Catching him is our job. But we can’t do it from the outside. I’m asking your permission to work at the lab undercover.”
She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.
Chapter Five
Kyle knocked on the door of Daniel’s study and stuck his head inside.
Daniel, flipping through a file at his desk, waved the younger man in. “Miss Quinlan gone?”
Kyle nodded. “Just left.”
“Did she agree?”
“Not yet.”
“Will she?”
Kyle slumped into a deep chair in front of the desk and pushed his fingers through his hair. “I think she’s in shock. The idea of a traitor in the lab coming hard on the heels of her father’s death really shook her up. She said she’d think about the undercover bit and let me know.”
“Did you stress that time is crucial?”
“I tried.”
Daniel leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers across his powerful chest. “Laura Quinlan’s a good woman. I’ll have C.J. talk to her, see if she can bring her around. We need you inside that lab, Kyle. The sooner, the better.”
“I agree. I’ll plan accordingly, so I can move fast once we get her approval.”
Daniel nodded. “I’ve been looking over your file. You attended UCLA?”
“It seems a long time ago now. Double-majored in chemistry and biology.”
“And earned a doctorate in chemistry. How’d you end up in police work?”
Daniel’s question brought back memories of agonizing over his decision. “Science fascinated me, but I wanted to work with people. Guess you could say I got lonesome working mainly with rats.”
His reasons went much deeper, but he didn’t want to go into them now.
Daniel grinned. “Think of the Black Order as bigger, deadlier rats. Let’s hope we nail those bastards.”
Kyle remembered Laura and Jeremy and the little girls trapped by their bomb. “Nothing would make me happier.”
Daniel leaned forward, his smile gone. “I don’t want any more deaths.”
Kyle nodded. Daniel knew what he was talking about. The boss himself had worked undercover with Texas Confidential for fifteen years. Last year he’d come close to infiltrating the Calderone/Rialto drug cartel when he’d been ambushed and disappeared. Everyone, including his ex-wife, Sherry, and their twelve-year-old son, Jessie, had thought him dead. Long before that case, the trauma of undercover work had already placed too high an emotional burden on their family, and Daniel and Sherry had divorced.
Kyle glanced at the framed picture on the credenza behind Daniel’s desk. Sherry, an attractive woman with thick chestnut hair and laughing brown eyes sat with her arms around Jessie, who looked like a boyish version of his father. Daniel rarely spoke of his family, but Kyle had often seen the loneliness and longing in his boss’s eyes when he gazed at that picture.
“I’ve asked Court to check with the Bureau,” Daniel said. “You’ll need unshakable credentials. Once you show up at the Institute, I’m sure the traitor in their midst will check you out.”
“What’s my cover story?”
Daniel tapped the file folder on his desk with a slender finger. “The FBI will plant records at UCLA, in case anyone inquires, that show you working as a researcher there from your undergraduate days to the present. That background should keep you safe enough.”
Safe enough for himself, Kyle thought, but not for Molly. “Laura says security isn’t as tight as her father
wanted, due to monetary restraints. I can’t take Molly into a dangerous situation.” His gut clenched, torn between wanting his daughter with him and keeping her safe.
“I understand,” Daniel said. “Dale and Jewel can take care of her here, and you can visit when you can. Having C.J. as a colleague gives you an excuse to drop in at the ranch.”
Kyle nodded in agreement, but his heart wasn’t in it. Molly had been through so much. First her mother’s desertion, then the move to Montana. He hated leaving her, even for a few days at a time, but he knew how important this undercover assignment was. Finding the traitor in the lab was the agents’ best chance at tracking down the Black Order. If they didn’t, thousands of little girls like Molly could die horrible deaths. He had no choice but to leave her, as much as it galled him.
“I’ll need to bone up on the current research at the Institute,” he said.
Daniel nodded. “I’ll ask C.J. to bring you as much information as she can without casting suspicion on herself. And I’ll have one of the hands cover your ranch duties to give you time to study and prepare.”
Kyle pushed to his feet. “All we need now is the green light from Laura Quinlan.”
Daniel nodded, his expression grim. “And a hell of a lot of luck.”
LAURA DROPPED the letter from the insurance company onto her father’s desk, not knowing whether to laugh or cry at the irony. The enclosed check for two million dollars, the death benefit, fluttered to the floor. Her father’s life insurance policy now provided the funds to keep the Institute in full operation.
Fighting back tears, she retrieved the check, locked it in the office safe and silently renewed her vow to continue his work. That and bringing his killers to justice would keep her going, in spite of her pain.
At loose ends, she wandered aimlessly through the empty rooms of the director’s house at the Quinlan Institute, the home she had shared with her father. After returning from the Lonesome Pony this morning, she’d spent the last few hours on correspondence, writing dozens of thank-you notes for flowers and messages of condolence. Then she’d prepared a mass mailing to all her father’s professional associates, assuring them that the work of the Institute would continue, even without Josiah Quinlan at the helm.
A gurgling in her stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten all day. Grief had stolen her appetite, but she forced herself to head for the kitchen. Even if she wasn’t hungry, she’d need her strength to maintain her father’s work.
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