by Terese Ramin
Alice felt more comfortable than she had at any family gathering in years. In the past, being with her family had tended to make her examine her conscience and wonder what sins she’d committed lately. Because even after years on her own, when she was with her mother and her sisters, she was still the eldest, the one to “set a good example,” after all. But tonight she felt none of that; tonight she had Gabriel at her side and…
She felt his arm brush hers and she glanced at him, smiling, then touched him with concern.
There was something in his eyes, his expression, that was almost indiscernible, something Alice sensed before she saw it. He seemed restless, distracted, and she thought his concentration on what was going on around him lapsed a beat now and then.
When she tried to ask him about it, he shook his head, unable to tell her that she’d caught him in the worst case of the “wishfuls” he’d ever had. Wishing he could stay with her, wishing he could be as close to his family as Alice was to hers, wishing this whole damn undercover was over so he could go back to New Jersey and figure out a way to get out or go on. Unable to tell her the only three words he really wanted to say to her, because not knowing if he even had a future after the lies Markum had spread about him made them stick in his throat.
Instead of saying anything, and hoping to distract her, he kissed Alice thoroughly in full view of her mother and her daughter, then went off with Michael to talk to Phil about turning up at the wedding. Openmouthed, Alice gazed after him for a long minute, then treated her mildly amused mother and her heartily flabbergasted daughter to an unrepentant stare before going off on her own to browbeat Grace about Saturday. Grace, however, had already been guilt-tripped into submission by Becky. She offered Alice her inimitable do I know you stare and politely asked big sister if her veil would arrive in time for the wedding since, as far as she knew, everything else would. In thirteen seed pearls, Alice assured her guiltily, the veil would be there,
too. Then she fled.
Skip stopped her halfway across the room to repeat his office building bookstore-bistro proposal without Helen prompting him. He had, he said, checked out Alice’s background, talked to her former employers and been able to present a glowing report on her potential to his partners, who had then agreed unequivocally to back her in opening as many as three such places over the next three years.
Bent on finding Gabriel, whom she could no longer spot anywhere in the room, Alice nodded at what she hoped were the appropriate spots, accepted Skip’s card and told him she’d get back to him in a couple of weeks. Then she squirmed purposefully through the rest of the crowd and went in search of Gabriel.
***
“No,” Gabriel said sharply into the disposable cell phone he’d picked up earlier in the day, “I don’t want to wait, Jack. Sonovabitch has got me where it hurts. Besides, we wait and there’s no way to keep him from finding out about the warrants. Whatever else the bastard is, he’s not a fool. If you got the warrants, we gotta execute ‘em.”
Listening for Jack Scully’s response to his tirade, Gabriel glanced uneasily around the side of the pub where he’d retreated for privacy, keeping tabs on the crowded parking lot. He hated not having a definsible wall at his back. A lot of untidy emotions were running around inside him, and he didn’t intend to get caught out in the dark because of them. Being with Alice had made him realize he had a lot of old baggage to deal with, starting with reconciling with his parents and coming to terms with why he’d become a cop in the first place. For the first time in a lot of years, he had something more than the next case to keep him going.
“No, Jack, back off, I’ll bring him in,” he snapped now. “You gotta pay for the truth, isn’t that what you always say? This is my case. I’m paying. You knew what I was going to find—that’s why you sent me on it. So when I corroborated what you suspected about Si you’d have his daughter’s godfather for an unimpeachable witness.”
Again he listened briefly, stabbing the inside wall of the kiosk with a finger. “You and the rest of the suits just be there when I get there, Jack, and bring some decent backup,” he said and, after slamming the phone down, went back inside the restaurant. Whether he should or not, he
couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to Alice.
He found her in the hallway between the tavern’s general seating area and its private rooms. There were no words. He looked at her, and she knew at once. He took a step toward her, and she was in his arms. Why, Gabriel wondered savagely, did you always know for sure what you were looking for when it was time to leave?
“Alice—”
“Please, Gabriel—”
People were staring at them. He found a door, pushed it open. The closet was dimly lit and private. Alice clasped her arms around his neck. Her mouth was open on his, desperate. He pushed her away.
“I’ve got to go.”
“It’s too soon. Don’t go yet.” She didn’t mean to say it, couldn’t stop herself. She hid her face in his neck. “I’m sorry. Strike that. My mouth got away from me.”
Gabriel took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifted her face where he could see it. “One of the best things about you is your mouth,” he said. “Don’t apologize for it. I like always knowing where I stand with you. In my business, too many people deal one way to your face and another to your back. I needed a good dose of your honesty to help me put my priorities in perspective.”
Alice tried to laugh. Failed. “Gee, you make running off at the mouth sound like a virtue.” Her eyes teared suddenly and she hugged Gabriel hard to keep him from seeing. “Thank you for giving me a new perspective, too.”
Gabriel’s arms tightened around her. “It’s entirely my pleasure,” he whispered.
They clung to one another for a long moment. Then Alice raised her head and Gabriel’s hold on her loosened. “I’ll—” He stopped. I’ll be back. The phrase hung in the air unused. He didn’t want to make her a promise he might not be able to keep.
“Come—” Come back to me. She didn’t say it because she didn’t want to load him down. She eased herself out of his arms. “The wedding’s two o’clock Saturday,” she said softly.
Gabriel rested his forehead against hers, brushed her cheek with his fingers. “I’ll remember that,” he returned.
Then he was gone.
Alone in the hallway once more, Alice wondered what she would do if he was still gone tomorrow.
Chapter Thirteen
The rest of the dinner dragged on forever.
Phil’s brothers kidded Grace’s sisters until both sides were locked in an increasingly obnoxious battle of retorts.
Skip plied Helen with words of love, a set of emerald earrings and the whispered promise that the matching necklace would be hers on their wedding day. He then moped when Helen firmly informed him that she wasn’t going to marry him, would never want to marry him, and if he truly loved her, he would know the way to her heart was hardly precious gems, especially green ones, even if he only gave them to her because they poetically matched her eyes. She was in the army, for God’s sake, and saw more green than she wanted to.
She was also, she said, not particularly interested in managing his life as she had quite enough to do managing her own and her sisters, and that any man who might eventually capture her heart and the rest of her, as well, would know, understand and encourage that. He would also, she stated definitely, be able to knock her off her feet by looking at her, be capable of standing toe-to-toe with her in verbal combat—and occasionally win—and be understanding enough to volunteer—on his own—to hire the caterer and the maids even if there was only the two of them
to entertain for dinner. And he would never, ever, under any circumstances, on any occasion whatsoever, wear a three piece suit.
The night grew long.
Since the wedding had expanded to include her daughter as the second already married bride, Alice felt obligated to stay and maintain appearances—which was not something she did well.
She made the most cursory small talk with the in-laws, only half listened to what was going on around her and had no idea what she was eating, because her palate had gone flat. She couldn’t get Gabriel out of her thoughts. Every time she turned around she thought she saw him out of the corner of her eye, thought she felt him behind her.
In four days he’d invaded her life completely. They’d become “a couple,” and more. She felt unfinished without him.
When you find him, you’ll know, her mother had said. It won’t take long. You’ll know.
Well, she did know finally, dammit, and now she wanted to tell him, show him, but he was gone.
When her family started to whisper about his absence, then to ask her about him, she had nothing to say. Wasn’t sure what she could say that would neither compromise nor jeopardize him. What could she say? Sorry, guys, he had to go to work? He’s an FBI agent masquerading as a bad cop to catch some dirty cops who sold information about up-coming operations to the bad guys, and who, as a sideline, execute other cops who get in their way? Only really what he’s doing—but he didn’t know this at first—is being used by a man he’s worked under for ten years to trip up a man he’s loved and trusted for fifteen years who’s been using him for the past five or six years to cover up a trail of drug theft, corruption, murder and embezzlement? And the sting
is going down tonight?
She shook her head. Somehow...
It occurred to her out of the morbid blue that if she were married to him she’d probably have to learn how to lie all the time about who he was, where he was and what he did.
He’s an insurance investigator, she imagined herself saying. He works for Lloyd’s. They keep him traveling a lot.
And the fact of the matter was that even she, his wife, wouldn’t know who he was, where he was, or what he did the majority of the time. Not specifically. She wouldn’t be allowed to ask him any of those questions, wouldn’t be able to share that part of his life. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t be allowed to tell her. She’d have to learn to live with a man who could never be entirely forthright with her, one who might sometimes bring his hidden life to bed with him, who flirted with death on a daily basis and survived because he was good at it. A man who might have to be gone for days, weeks or months at a stretch without even being able to call first and tell her he was going. A man who could die in some anonymous place without even his supervisors knowing for sure he was gone.
She closed her eyes and clenched her laced fingers around one another. She’d never asked him what it was like for him “out there”—hadn’t thought of it really. Hadn’t wanted to know maybe. The way she’d found him had seemed explanation enough. But now she remembered the news stories, the slew of books on the dangers of undercover work, the television series and movies and docudramas about the customs agent who’d been tortured and killed in Mexico. She’d been fascinated by the intrigue, but of course movies, nonfiction books and even the news never seemed real. Nothing seemed real unless you lived it. And if she couldn’t even ride anything more rigorous than the ferris wheel at Cedar Point without getting motion sickness, how the hell would she survive a life with Gabriel? No matter how she felt about him.
Sick as it made her feel, it was good to think about these things now, she decided, while she still had a chance of kicking him out of her system. Before she had time to get too attached to thinking about him. Remembering him. Wanting him.
Needing him.
When she finally got home from the rehearsal dinner, she didn’t sleep at all that night.
*
Gabriel stared unseeingly through the pane of glass that separated him from the squad room. All he could see was the look on Lillian Markum’s face when he’d arrested her husband, the hatred in his thirteen year old goddaughter’s eyes when he’d been forced to handcuff her father in front of her last night. Silas Markum had betrayed him, but Gabriel felt as if he’d been the one to take the bite of the Judas apple. The fruit left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he wished he could spit it out.
He scrubbed a hand across his aching eyes and found the wound, now little more than a scab, over his temple. Body, mind and soul, everything hurt. He’d been up for thirty hours. He needed a shower, a shave and some food. He felt like hell. If that damn Scully didn’t get in here to finish debriefing him soon, Gabriel was pretty sure he wouldn’t think twice about pitching Jack’s desk chair through his window just to see if that wouldn’t get Jack’s attention.
He turned his back on the window when his supervisor finally headed for the office, beaming.
“Hey, Book, we got him! Four counts first degree murder, three counts conspiracy to commit murder, six counts conspiracy to deliver narcotics, two counts actual delivery, embezzlement—”
“I’m out, Jack,” Gabriel said flatly.
Jack Scully stared in disbelief at the most dedicated and successful undercover agent he’d ever worked with, and moved behind his desk. “Come on, Book,” he soothed, “We all know Si was your friend, but don’t go off the deep end over this.”
“This is not the deep end, Jack,” Gabriel snapped. “This is the damn shallow part of the pool you keep throwin’ me into headfirst.”
Scully spread his hands generously in front of him, automatically doing what he was paid to do well: placate his agents. “C’mon, Book, you had a hard night, but we’ve all been screwed by people we think are friends. Don’t mean nothin’, right? Don’t let it get you. Go someplace, get some rest. You did a good job. It was worth it. Few weeks this’ll be a bad dream. Give it time.”
Gabriel flattened his hands on Scully’s desk and leaned over them. “In a few weeks,” he said, “I’ll be sitting in the witness box talking to the prosecution and looking at Catherine Markum listening to Uncle Book tell the world what a piece of scum her father is.” He laughed shortly. “No, Jack, trust me, it’s not worth it anymore. I’m sick of being lied to and cheated and stabbed in the back by people who’re paid to tell me what to do and who I gotta trust before I even get onto the street. No.” He straightened. “You do whatever paperwork you have to do to get me out. I’ll clean up my files, stick around long enough to close out whatever’s pending, but that’s it. No more game.”
“You’re serious.”
“Dead.”
Scully sucked air through his teeth, letting it squeak against the roof of his mouth. “Awful sudden,” he said. “You think about this?”
Gabriel stuck his hands in his pockets and turned his back on Scully to look through the inside office window again. “Long enough.” In the window’s reflection he watched Scully rub his chin, thinking. It looked like hard work.
“How long since you’ve had a vacation?” Scully asked suddenly. “Two years? Three? You’ve been logging a lot of hours. Why don’t you take some time off, think about it. No, no—” he pointed a couple of fingers at Gabriel’s snort of disgust “—hear me out. You take some vacation—back vacation, as much time as you need—and let things cool down. Clear it with the prosecutor, apprise him of where you’ll be, but that’s all the contact you keep with us. Kick back and clear your head. Think about it. I think you’ll find this stuff’s in your blood, and you can’t live without it. You’ll be back.”
Gabriel faced him grimly. “You pay me for it, I’ll take the vacation. But I’ve got better things to do with my life. I won’t be back, Jack. Guaranteed.”
*
Saturday dawned, bright and picturesque, with robins and sparrows chirping outside Alice’s window, and turtledoves cooing above it on the telephone lines. June swept its dew-fresh morning breeze through her open window to tickle the shades, making them flap gently at her. Alice opened one eye and glared at the world, then turned over and pulled the pillow firmly over her head. Of all the things she didn’t need right now, a bright, sunshiny all the world’s in a good mood except you day was right up there among the least of them. What she did need was about twelve hours sleep, fewer dreams about Gabriel and a less hear
tless conscience.
Friday, if she recalled correctly, had been an absolute bitch. No sleep and no Gabriel Thursday night had left her moody and broody—and somewhat of a pain for Becky to shop with. Fortunately her daughter had been far too engrossed in her search for the perfect fashion statement to make at the wedding to pay much attention to her mother. Alice had unwisely used the six hours they spent shopping to remember how readily Gabriel had responded to every crisis she’d faced in the preceding four days. How patient he’d been with Mamie’s boys. How he’d done whatever he’d done with Michael. How quickly he’d gotten someone to accompany Allyn around Colorado Springs until she was safely on her way home. His generosity when they’d made love.
And she’d considered holding something as inconsequential as his life threatening profession against him. What a humbug she was! Why, it had been that very life threatening profession that had brought him into her life in the first place. It wasn’t the possibility but the actuality that counted.
Right?
With a snort of disgust at herself and her fickleness, Alice switched ends of the bed, hoping to escape the birds’ singing without having to close the window. But the birds were having none of it. Neither was her head. It poked and prodded her unmercifully. If he’s gone for good, it asked her, will you be happy? Isn’t some of the best worth a little of the worst? What do you want, Alice? An excuse to stay the same staid old reasonably unfulfilled person you are?
No, she thought, that isn’t what I want at all.
Then dare to be great, that niggling little demon inside her urged. Come on, Allie, dare. Who knows, maybe it’s all academic anyway. Maybe he’s not coming back. Maybe you’ll never see him again. Maybe—
“Shut up!” Alice snapped aloud and sat up, spilling her pillow onto the floor. The glaringly familiar room seemed to stare at her, beckon her examination. Blue carpet, matching bedclothes, homogenized white walls...