As one, Jake and Christopher moved to block his path. “Sorry, but you can’t go in there,” Jake said.
“Look, I appreciate you keeping an eye on her while I was gone, but—”
“Audra doesn’t want to see you.”
“What?”
Christopher set his jaw and glared at Sam. “She specifically asked us to keep you away.”
He looked at the closed door. “Did she say why?”
“Yes,” Jake said, eying him warily. “She did.”
Sam glanced from one twin to the other, a sick feeling rising in his throat. There was a coolness in their gazes, a distance that hadn’t been there two hours ago.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had changed.
“Maybe we’d better go and sit down, Sam,” John said. “There are some things I’d like to discuss with you.”
“Yeah,” Christopher said. “There are a few things I’d like to say too, Detective Tucker.”
Oh hell, Sam thought as the three men escorted him to the cafeteria. They settled at a corner table, the atmosphere thick with building tension and the smell of frying food.
Sam had been through this kind of thing before, when an undercover job was over and it was necessary to reveal the truth to the people concerned. It hadn’t bothered him in the past—the independence and the challenge of undercover work had always made up for the occasional awkward situation. Only this time it was different He’d gone too far. He’d done what Xavier had warned him against and had gotten personally involved.
The McPhersons had welcomed him into their homes. They’d entrusted him with their affection. They’d believed all his lies. And now Audra lay in a hospital bed with a bullet hole in her lung. This time he wasn’t sure he could excuse his betrayal of innocent people by claiming he was only doing his job.
Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, Sam pulled out the folder with his badge, flipped it open and tossed it onto the middle of the table. Then he proceeded to tell them everything, from his plan to infiltrate the wedding to the dispute among Fitzpatrick’s guests that had led to Falco’s murder. When he was done, he crossed his arms and sat back in his chair, prepared for whatever names they wanted to call him.
For a full two minutes, no one spoke. John stirred sugar into his coffee with controlled, deliberate movements while Jake and Christopher regarded Sam in stony silence.
Over the years, Sam had seen a variety of reactions at this stage, from incredulity to anger. Yet the McPhersons’ quiet condemnation cut him deeper than he would have imagined.
Of course, he’d always known that he was an impostor, that he hadn’t deserved the acceptance of a solid, respectable family like this.
Picking up his badge, Sam cleared his throat. “I apologize for the deception. If you have any further questions, I’ll give you the name of my supervisor.”
“You knew this man Fitzpatrick was a dangerous criminal,” Christopher said. “Yet you didn’t see fit to warn us.”
“It was a calculated risk. We hadn’t expected any violence at his daughter’s wedding.”
“Well, you were wrong, weren’t you?”
“Yes. I made an error in judgment.”
“And Audra’s the one who’s paying for it.”
He nodded, making no attempt to defend himself. He deserved their scorn for the pain she was going through.
“You said Audra was shot by accident when that man was killed?” Jake asked.
“I believe so. Ballistics confirmed that the bullets came from the same gun.”
“How do you know it was an accident? How can you be sure she wasn’t deliberately shot?”
“I’ll know more when I can question Audra.”
Christopher stabbed his finger at Sam. “You’ve done enough. I’m not letting you go near her, you bastard.”
“Then another officer will have to take her statement.”
“Fine. As long as it isn’t you.”
“The sooner she talks to someone, the better,” Sam persisted. “I’ve been trying to get her protection—”
“My brothers and I can take care of her. Do you have any suspects?”
“We’re working on it.”
“Did you put Fitzpatrick in jail?”
“Not yet, but we’ve learned enough to build a case.”
“So the criminal is free and an innocent woman’s in the hospital.” A muscle in Christopher’s jaw jumped as his glare sharpened. “Tell me, Detective. Do you consider this undercover operation a success?”
The guilt just kept piling up, but they couldn’t be any harder on him than he was on himself. “I can’t tell you how much I regret—”
“You’re an incompetent idiot!” Jake said, slapping his palm on the table.
Sam clenched his jaw against the urge to defend himself. He deserved everything they threw at him.
“And the fact that you chose to involve Audra only proves your lack of judgment. Audra, of all people, mixed up in an undercover investigation,” Jake went on, his voice rising. “She’s a complete innocent. She wouldn’t know how to cope!”
“She’s had a sheltered life,” Christopher put in. “We’ve always done our best to take care of her.”
“She’s helpless when it comes to dealing with problems. This whole fiasco is going to—”
“Now you wait a minute,” Sam said, bracing his hands on his knees and leaning forward. “You can say what you want about me, but I won’t let you criticize Audra. She’s an exceptionally intelligent and resourceful person.”
“You get our baby sister shot and you have the nerve to lecture us?”
“Yes, I do. Because she thinks too highly of all of you to do it herself. Protecting her is one thing, but don’t underestimate her capabilities. Don’t mistake inexperience for incompetence. She’s not some helpless little girl to be coddled as if she has no mind of her own.”
“I never said—”
“She’s a mature woman. She deserves your respect. And when it comes to dealing with problems, she’s found the strength to handle a tragedy that the rest of you haven’t begun to accept.”
“You’ve known her for what? A month? Six weeks?”
“Long enough to know her better than you think.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jake said, rising from his chair. “Just how far did you take this fake engagement? If you’ve laid a hand on her—”
“Boys, that’s enough,” John cut in, his voice hard. Until now he’d watched the exchange between Sam and his sons in silence. “This is a difficult situation, but I think we’d all better calm down before we say something we regret.”
Jake wavered, his face flushing with anger. Then without another word, he shoved back his chair and walked away. A tense minute later, Christopher stood up and followed.
Sam rubbed his jaw. It might have been easier if they’d simply taken a swing at him. “Mr. McPherson, I regret the way this turned out, but I want to assure you that I have the highest respect for your daughter.”
John picked up a paper napkin and took his time mopping up the coffee that had spilled from his cup when Jake had hit the table. “You mean my exceptionally intelligent, resourceful, mature and capable daughter.”
“Yes.”
Crossing his arms, John leaned back and regarded Sam unblinkingly. Unlike his sons, he kept his thoughts hidden behind his expression. “No one likes to be lied to.”
“I understand that.”
“You and Audra fooled us all, you know. You were very convincing.”
“Audra wasn’t comfortable about deceiving her family. It was my responsibility entirely.”
“It was quite a performance, the way you pretended to be so worried while she was in surgery, and the way you insisted on spending the night by her side. You certainly behaved like a man with strong feelings.”
“Your sons are right. It was my fault she was put in danger.”
John continued to study him, his face unreadable. “When
she woke up this afternoon, her first concern was your welfare.”
That jarred him. “What?”
“She was probably confused from the drugs. I have to congratulate you. You’re both excellent actors.” He pushed, himself to his feet and took a step away, then stopped to reach into the pocket of his shirt. “Here,” he said, tossing something to the center of the table. “I believe this is yours.”
Sam saw the gleam of gold. He waited until he was alone before he extended his arm and picked up the ring. He traced the pattern of apple blossoms, his fingertip brushing over the diamond the same way he’d seen Audra touch it a hundred times.
It was only a symbol of something that didn’t exist. But if everything else was fake, why did this seem so real?
Curling his fingers over the circle of gold, he brought his fist to his mouth and closed his eyes.
The flowers were everywhere. On the windowsill, on the floor and on the table along the wall, they bloomed in a dazzling array of color. There were delicate, lacy-edged pink carnations from Norm and Judy, a lush purple African violet from Esther’s greenhouse and sprigs of orange gladioli and blue morning glories from Audra’s parents. Cheery get-well cards, some glossy and a foot high, some hand-drawn with crayon on colored paper, were taped to the bathroom door. Plastic containers and foil-wrapped plates of food smuggled in by Jake and Christopher covered the tray table beside the bed and a stack of mystery novels teetered beside the telephone.
A rented television, suspended from the ceiling in one corner, flickered silently, but Audra wasn’t watching. Leaning back against the raised head of her bed, she focused on the single red rose she held in her hand. It was from Sam.
According to the nurses, he’d been at the hospital every day. He’d taken up a post at the end of the corridor where he kept track of the people who entered her room. She’d already told the police that she didn’t remember anything about the shooting, but he was stubbornly hanging around anyway, making sure she had no unauthorized visitors.
At least he seemed to have accepted the fact that she didn’t want to see him. She didn’t have to see him. There was nothing between them anymore, so he didn’t need to pretend otherwise. After what he’d said to her, he had a lot of nerve sending her flowers. What did she need with more flowers? This place was getting too ripe with them.
Now that her mind was clearer, she’d figured out why he’d kept a vigil by her bed after she’d come out of surgery. He’d been concerned about her welfare, that was all. If she had died, he would have had all kinds of inconvenient extra paperwork to fill out.
He was probably feeling a healthy dose of guilt, too. After all, he’d assured her there wouldn’t be any danger when she’d agreed to help him. Maybe he was concerned she’d bring a lawsuit against the police department. Maybe that’s why he was still hanging around.
And of course, he undoubtedly felt sorry for her. Poor, pathetic sex-starved old maid, mistaking his acting and her adrenaline for something more genuine. Lucky for her he’d set her straight so promptly, before she could make an even bigger fool of herself. She hadn’t needed to be hit over the head for it to sink in after all—being shot was sufficient.
Narrowing her eyes, she ripped a petal off the rose and dropped it to the floor. It was a dam good thing she hadn’t fallen in love, right? Having to recover from a hole in her lung was painful enough without having to worry about a hole in her heart.
Her brothers didn’t have any trouble accepting the news that she wasn’t engaged. They avoided the subject completely, never speaking Sam’s name, glossing over the whole Fitzpatrick wedding job, going right back into full protectiveness mode. Except for Norm, but he’d been getting mellower ever since he and Jimmy had started to work out their problems. Surprisingly enough, he and her father had wanted to discuss her plans for her restaurant. Not that they approved of her ambition to strike out on her own. But at least they were listening. That was progress.
“Good morning,” Geraldine chirped, pushing open the door. “How are you feeling, Audra?”
She tore another petal off the rose and flicked it over the side of the bed. “Just peachy, thanks.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“Thanks, but Christopher already dropped off some breakfast.”
“I saw Sam in the hall. He’s looking terrible,” Geraldine said, hooking a chair with her foot to drag it closer to the bed. She took hold of the side rail and eased herself down. “I really think you should talk to him, even if it’s only for a few minutes.”
“We have nothing more to say.”
“Oh, Audra. It wouldn’t hurt to unbend a bit. He looks like his puppy’s died, he lost his best friend and he hasn’t slept in a week.”
Concern stirred, but she tamped it down and mangled another petal. “Gerri, how many times do I have to tell you? Sam doesn’t love me. I don’t love him. The engagement was a lie. It’s over.”
Geraldine shook her head. “I don’t care what Jake and the boys say. Sam’s a nice guy. You could do a lot worse. And you both had that special glow when you were together. It was clear to me there was a lot more than a professional relationship going on between you.”
“Those are your hormones talking.” She looked pointedly at her sister-in-law’s bulging stomach. “When are you planning on having that baby, anyway?”
She groaned. “Please. Last night I saw a documentary on elephants. Did you know their gestation period is twenty-two months? I’m thinking of checking myself into a zoo.”
“Are you feeling okay? When was the last time you saw your doctor?”
“Two days ago, and I’m fine. But you’re changing the subject. We were talking about Sam.”
Audra reached for the remote control and turned up the sound on the television.
“I saw for myself what a wreck he was while you were in surgery,” Geraldine continued, ignoring the drone of the talk show that was on the screen. “The man’s devoted to you.”
“It was Sam’s cover. It was all part of his job so he could get into that wedding. He wants Fitzpatrick and I want the reward. That’s it. That’s all. End of discussion,” she said wearily. She’d told the same story so many times, it was coming by rote.
“So? Lots of couples have an interesting story about the way they met. Think of how much fun it’ll be to tell your grandchildren someday.”
Sighing, Audra flopped her head back against the pillow. Geraldine wasn’t the only one who thought this way. Her mother and Judy had said pretty well the same thing yesterday.
In her mother’s case, it wasn’t that surprising. She was willing to overlook what she called Sam and Audra’s rocky beginning in the hopes that her daughter would eventually settle down into marital bliss—she was such a romantic, she wouldn’t believe that the stars she’d thought she’d seen in their eyes were merely proximity and adrenaline. And Judy’s stubborn defense of Sam was understandable too. She was still grateful to him for his help with Jimmy, no matter what his motives were.
“You’re in denial,” Audra said. “Judy, Mom, Esther, the whole bunch of you. You just won’t accept the fact that you’ve been duped.”
“Audra, I’ve seen him. No one’s that good an actor.”
“You’d be surprised. Sam’s a real expert at taking on a role.”
“Maybe you’ll feel differently once you’re home and things get back to normal.”
“Normal,” she muttered. “I can’t wait.”
“Speaking of waiting, I can’t either.” Geraldine said, grasping the side rail to lever herself to her feet. “The kid’s decided to take up tap dancing on my bladder. Don’t go away,” she added, heading for the bathroom. “We haven’t finished this conversation.”
Audra flicked the channel on the television impatiently. It would be good to get home, all right. Then she wouldn’t be such a sitting duck for more well-meaning relatives who wanted to run her life.
As soon as she got out of here, she was going to start scouting o
ut locations for her restaurant. Her claim on the reward wouldn’t be honored until Fitzpatrick was actually convicted, but with the information she’d helped Sam obtain, it was only a matter of time now. That’s what that policeman had said when he’d taken her statement What was his name? Berger or Bergman?
Bergstrom, she remembered. He’d been wonderfully friendly and polite all through their interview. A nice young man, as her mother would have said. Well-built, blond and blue-eyed, he’d been blessed with the kind of bone structure a camera would love. When he’d smiled, he’d even managed to bring a blush to the cheeks of Monique, the sadistic nurse with the needles.
Well, he’d been handsome enough, in a classic, symmetrical way. Many women adored that kind of neatly tailored, toothpaste-ad-smile look. Yet even if Audra hadn’t been flat on her back trailing tubes and bandages and feeling like something a cat wouldn’t deign to drag in, she wouldn’t have given Bergstrom a second glance. Maybe if his hair had been darker, with a stubborn wave that kept flopping over his forehead, or if he’d worn one of those loose, defiantly irreverent Hawaiian print shirts, or if he had a dimple in his chin and a crooked smile and square jaw and keen blue eyes...and hands that could be gentle or knowing...and shoulders that were broad and solid...and lips that felt like heaven...
Grinding her teeth, she crushed the rose in her fist, then dropped the remains of the flower to the floor and reached for a book. Time to get back to normal. Her involvement with Sam and his investigation was over. From now on, if she wanted excitement, she could find it at the library.
The painting on the book cover showed a skeletal hand clutching the dusty stock of an old revolver. The blurb on the back of the book promised it would be filled with plenty of surprise twists and unexpected betrayals. Just what she needed to get her mind off all those things she didn’t want to think about.
She ran a fingertip along the cover, focusing on the fancy engraving the artist had seen fit to add to the gun’s barrel. She used to rub her ring that way. She’d liked the feel of those delicately etched leaves and apple blossoms—
Making a disgusted noise, she flipped open the book. She didn’t get past the first line before she felt compelled to look at the cover once more. It wasn’t the engraving that was niggling at her, it was the gun itself. It seemed wrong somehow. It was too thick, and the barrel wasn’t shiny enough or long enough. Yet it was a large revolver, and the barrel couldn’t very well be any longer unless it was a rifle. On the other hand, a pistol would appear longer if it had one of those cylinders at the end for a silencer....
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