“So you decided to get the key back so Gonzalez couldn’t trade the papers to Lee in exchange for his granddaughter.” Monty held the accusation out of his voice, even as he looked out the window at the newly crushed remains of Peggy’s bike. Haas had done that. The county attorney was as guilty as the smugglers and gangsters.
“As long as I held the evidence, Lee had to keep paying for my silence. I couldn’t let Gonzalez find the key.” Haas froze like a deer in headlights at this admission.
Good ol’ ghost juice. Apparently the law was more lethal than the damned gangsters.
“So you sent a psychotic criminal after Fee and the dog, nice. And then when your psycho ended up in the hospital, you killed him why?” Monty didn’t look at Mariah. Any smirk on her face would be wiped away by now. The computer engineer had a strong sense of justice and creative ideas of vengeance that he wouldn’t encourage.
“So the bastard would stop talking,” Haas yelled. “Ramon was out of his mind and spouting everything he knew. He was going to lose his leg anyway. It kept the county from paying his upkeep.” Haas abruptly shoved away his plate in distress. “I need to go home.”
Walker gestured one of his plain-clothed detectives to the table. As he snapped handcuffs on a startled Haas, Monty turned back to Lee.
“We have enough to obtain a court order to have Haas’s locker opened. Let’s give Stacy back to her grandmother, all right?”
Looking defeated, Lee stood when Monty did.
Mysteriously, all the Lucys had already left the restaurant.
Wrists and ankles tied, Fee could only watch helplessly as Gonzalez waved his weapon and ranted about the van’s flat tires, Lee’s treachery, and a nanny who couldn’t make a child stop crying.
The thug who’d tied her up, then eaten the sushi, was drooping in his chair, ready to fall off.
Beside her, Keegan quietly unraveled the thin clothesline binding his wrists behind his back. Gonzalez’s massive rifle prevented him from making any fast moves. They’d been forced to leave their sticks on the porch, although Fee had little idea what wood might have accomplished against bullets.
Harvey had melted into the darkness. Fee suspected he was some kind of phantom. She’d heard stranger stories about Hillvale.
She was praying if they survived long enough, he’d bring help.
Gonzalez was apparently waiting for his wife, or maybe Randall Lee. He kept looking at his phone with annoyance, as if glaring at it would produce service.
“Are you a real nanny?” Fee asked as the girl walked past, bouncing the heavy toddler in her arms to stop her fretting.
“My duty is to the little one, not these. . .” She glowered at the men, then returned to walking up and down.
That the nanny cared about the child reassured her.
“Fevers require liquid,” Fee told her as she passed by again. “The water is good if you can run it long enough to clean the pipes.”
“Is filthy water,” the girl whispered as Gonzalez strode to the back to investigate a thump.
Recognizing that tactic, Fee’s pulse jumped. Praying hard, she kept the girl distracted. “No, the owners had it tested. It’s good mountain water. The pipes are rusty.”
“There’s someone out there,” Gonzalez shouted, adding a few curses as he strained to see out the window.
“That will be the Hillvale ghosts,” Keegan said in his dry Scots burr. “Why do you think this cabin is empty? At least three people that we know of killed themselves here.”
That was a whopping lie as far as Fee was aware.
Bouncing the fretting toddler and examining the kitchen pump, the nanny didn’t appear too alarmed, but Gonzalez looked spooked. Of course, he’d been on edge since he’d arrived.
“If Lee has harmed my Maria, I will have his head.” Gonzalez stood to one side of the back door and shoved it open with his foot.
When he took aim out the door, Fee screamed at the top of her lungs to warn anyone outside. If her friends were there, this was no time to stay quiet. She closed her eyes in relief when he swung around to glare at her. “What’s wrong with you? First you steal my dog, then you sneak back here to steal my granddaughter, and now you scream at ghosts? And Felix said you were a quiet one!”
“I’m here to rescue Stacy,” she replied, thumping her feet up and down to bring life back to her legs. “You’re the one threatening to spray the ghosts with bullets. Do you want to get us all killed?”
“I’m just killing Lee. Let me kill that bastard, and I’ll die a happy man. I don’t know how my son was stupid enough to be ensnared by those snakes.” He turned back to peering out the door.
Fee prayed the thump meant help had arrived. Keegan looked worried, so he was afraid his wife might be part of the posse. Mariah probably hated Fee’s guts by now, or she would soon as she realized Fee had got Keegan tied up, but the pregnant computer expert would save Stacy first. Fee hoped.
Of course, imagining Monty outside had Fee frowning as much as Keegan. What could any of them do against an assault rifle?
The window behind them crashed, spewing thin shards of glass. Gonzalez ran to the front door to look out. With the armed thug nodding off, and the nanny otherwise occupied, Gonzalez was seriously understaffed here.
To Fee’s amazement, her walking stick dropped through the broken window. She grasped it gingerly in her bound hand. With Gonzalez distracted, Keegan broke the final threads of his rope and grabbed the second stick falling behind them.
“We can’t walk,” Fee whispered harshly. “What the hell do we do with these?”
“Hold them and focus,” Keegan suggested. “I’ve not tried it, but Sam swears it works.”
Focus on what? Food was all she knew. She simply grasped the stick and prayed.
The thug at the table toppled from his chair. Jumpy, Gonzalez swung around at the noise.
A football flew through the open doorway, hitting the gangster squarely in the back of the head so hard that he fell, probably in shock.
A football.
Triumphantly holding his stick, Keegan ripped at the ropes on his ankles. Looking alarmed, the nanny backed toward the rear exit.
Unable to manage any hocus-pocus, Fee caterpillared across the floor and kicked the assault weapon toward the open door before Gonzalez could pull himself together.
Legs free, Keegan stood, towering over everyone. He’d just placed his big boot on his captor’s spine, while holding his stick like a cudgel, when Monty burst through the door, brandishing a baseball bat.
The air inexplicably filled with the scent of lemons and oranges.
Fee had never seen anything more heroic than her laidback surfer dude rushing an armed thug with a football and a baseball bat. Oh damn, she loved the insane man. And he probably hated everything about her by now.
The dark-haired toddler began to scream and wriggle in the nanny’s arms. Fee fought with her bonds but magic wands didn’t break them.
The back door opened and Aaron walked in carrying Sukey.
Fee wept in relief and joy as the little dog ran straight to the nanny and Stacy. Her stumpy tail wagging, the Yorkie jumped up and down enthusiastically. Fee continued weeping as Monty untied her.
“Tell me it’s over,” she whispered as Monty brushed her hands aside and started on the knots at her ankles.
Ripping off the rope, he looked grim. “It’s just beginning.”
Thirty-four
Monday, evening
Monty had Brenda waiting outside to treat any injuries. When he called her in, the nurse spit on the old gangster sprawled on the tiles and went straight to the crying toddler. Within minutes, she had Stacy quieted and on the floor, petting the damned dog that had started all this. The Lucys claimed Brenda was a magic healer. Monty would call anyone magic who could quiet a screaming toddler.
Once he had Fee untied, he didn’t know what to do. She was weeping helplessly. The holy terror who’d faced down two gunmen, then raced single-handed to r
escue a kid was crying like any fool female.
“Did you poison the one who’s snoring?” he asked, holding out his hand to help Fee up.
Instead of falling into his arms as he’d hoped, she nodded and wiped at her eyes with the back of her arm. “He ate the sushi I didn’t have time to give Lee’s bodyguards. He pigged it all down by himself.”
She cast a longing look to the little girl and the dog, then resolutely marched in the other direction. “Who broke the window?”
“Harvey. Who else would think you needed sticks when you’re bound hand and foot?” Monty didn’t want to hear if the sticks had helped. He wanted to take Fee home and keep her to himself until he figured out what the hell he was feeling right now. His brain worked slowly and needed time to process—which was why it was easier to fling himself into battle without considering results, he realized.
Clinging to her stick and not looking at him, she nodded. “Is everyone all right? No one got hurt after I left?”
At the sound of her voice, the little dog yipped and flew across the tiles, its paws slipping and sliding on the tiles until it plowed into Fee’s feet. Pawing her jeans, the hairy mutt desperately attempted to climb her leg.
Monty glanced over at the kid who was now happily untying shoelaces. Toddlers didn’t care about dogs. Without a second thought, he lifted Sukey and dropped her into Fee’s arms. “You’ll take better care of her.”
Looking astonished and mushy-eyed, Fee stopped crying to hug the dog while it licked her face. Before she could find any reason to protest, Monty took her elbow and marched her into the night. The kid didn’t even notice.
Outside, official-looking vehicles blocked the drive. Walker’s texting must have fetched the feds, if Monty was any judge of appearance at all. Holsters hidden under suit jackets, square jaws, grim faces, and talking into radios, of course. Even supermen couldn’t summon cell service.
He steered Fee away from the crowd out front and toward her bike. While she clung to the Yorkie, he wheeled the aging bike up the path and tried to get a grip on a whirl of emotions he’d never experienced. He recognized anger, of course, but that wasn’t the primary focus here. Unloading that football on Gonzalez had relieved some of his fury.
“How did you get down here?” Fee asked, glancing back at the swarm of cars blocking the road and the driveway.
“Cleaned all the weapons out of my trunk and ran,” he answered curtly.
“Your weapons consist of footballs and bats?” she asked with what might have been a hint of amusement.
“I’m good with them, all right?” he said defensively. “I wasn’t in a humor to wait around directing traffic after Mariah slapped ghost juice around and your Lucys pulled a disappearing act. I swear, you even had Cass out here casting spells or whatever in hell it is she does to foment trouble. You could have been killed,” he shouted, finally identifying one of his volcanic emotions—sheer terror.
Fee regarded him with what appeared to be bewilderment, which made him even unhappier. Didn’t she understand what it would have done to him if he’d lost her?
Kapow. He staggered and used the bike as crutch. He didn’t want to lose Fiona. He’d left his trophy football and prized bat back at the cabin, happy to trade them for this courageous, terrifying female.
“You didn’t want me to find Stacy?” she asked, sounding puzzled. “I was afraid Lee would come straight here and hide her even better—or worse. I had to do something.”
He parked her bike beside the café, took her elbow, and led her toward his car. The obstacle course in the highway had been removed, but he wasn’t heading that direction anyway. “I don’t know why you thought you were the only one who could do it.” That sounded appropriately mayoral and logical, right?
She shrugged. “I can’t think for everyone else. In her own way, Peggy gave me confidence when I had none. She did more to save my life than anyone ever did. It just seemed fair recompense to help her daughter. It’s probably my fault that Peggy was killed.”
Monty stared at her in astonishment. “It’s your fault that a crooked politician sent a psycho to look for a dog? A psycho who decided any woman on a bike was a target?” He opened the door of his car and practically shoved her into the seat. His rage didn’t need more fuel.
“But if I hadn’t brought Sukey here. . .”
“Because Peggy invited you. Because Peggy had a gangster ex and stupidly allowed him to take care of their daughter. What does this have to do with the price of eggs?”
“Where are we going?” she asked, frowning and giving up on argument as he slid behind the wheel.
“Home,” he said decisively.
She glanced in the direction of her apartment. “Your home? Why?”
He started the engine. “I haven’t decided yet. I’m still processing.” He put the car in gear and drove up the hill toward the resort. “My mother is still in the hospital, so she won’t bother us.”
“Do the doctors know what’s wrong with her?” she asked uncertainly, stroking Sukey—
The way he wanted to be stroked. Damn. Monty kept his eyes on the road. “She won’t let them talk to me, so I don’t know. And no, it has nothing to do with you making her feel ill. She is ill. We should have insisted that she be examined long ago. No more guilt trips, got it? You are not responsible for the universe.”
She thought about that as he parked the car. “I think we’re all a little responsible for our personal universes, and maybe a little bit for the whole world. Just voting or littering has an effect, however infinitesimal. It all adds up.”
Damn. She was right, of course, but he wouldn’t let her lay any more guilt on herself. Her face was still stained with tears, and she clung to the dog as if it were her life as he led her down the private pathway to his cabin. Monty wasn’t much on empathy, but he figured she’d shatter if he shouted Boo. And she was discussing improving the world.
He’d never find another woman as beautiful as this one was, inside and out.
Once inside, with the door closed, he removed Sukey so the Yorkie could explore. Then he took Fee in his arms and squeezed her tight. “Don’t ever do that to me again, please.”
And he kissed her in hopes she’d understand without need of his explaining anything, because action suited him better than words.
Needing to erase the horror of these past hours, to believe that she wouldn’t be cast into the void again, Fee readily accepted Monty’s strong embrace and heated kisses. Nothing had ever felt so right as his hungry mouth on hers, her body wrapped in his strong arms. His masculine scent and the elusive odor of citrus-scented ocean breezes enriched by honest lust raised her cravings better than baking gingerbread.
So, maybe it was just sex for him. She could deal with that. She’d just never had anyone act as if he really cared before. She soaked up the attention like flour absorbs oil.
“I need a shower,” she warned as Monty’s kisses traveled down her throat and his big hands drew astounding reactions from her breasts that left her considering impossible fantasies. Mindless sex might even be better than cooking a vat of chicken soup right now.
She’d never really appreciated sexual hunger before. The scent of arousal was a powerful aphrodisiac she might use—
Without speaking, Monty tugged her toward his bedroom and the enormous shower in his en suite bathroom. Watching him strip naked at the same time he undressed her matched the excitement of every Christmas she’d ever had, all rolled into one—complete with oranges and lemons, the scent she associated most with love.
“It’s almost too much,” she whispered as he carried her into blessedly warm water that he produced with the push of a button.
“Exactly,” he said in satisfaction, returning to his kisses.
“Act instead of talk?” she asked in amused understanding. She loved that she could occasionally interpret this complex man who didn’t even understand himself.
“Perfect,” he practically hummed in satisfaction.
The scent of citrus gave her the confidence to let go and be herself—to express passion.
“I won’t make it to the bed,” he muttered in her ear.
And senseless idiot that she’d become, his words were music to her ears. “Beds are highly overrated,” she whispered back.
And that was how she had her first shower sex.
Afterward, he toweled her off with linen so thick that she could use it as a blanket.
“I’m sorry. I should have thought of condoms,” he said penitently. “But I wasn’t thinking. I promise, I’m clean.”
Fee laughed and snuggled into his arms. “I haven’t practiced withdrawal sex since I was sixteen. Want to try it again?”
He snatched her up and carried her to his enormous bed. “I can’t believe anyone you had sex with hasn’t claimed you already. What in hell were they thinking?”
Fee pushed him back against the sheets and sat on top of him. “Takes two to make that decision, mayor. So maybe those others never measured up to my standards. I might be poor and homeless, but I’m not helpless or needy. Keep that in mind.”
His big hands nearly encompassed her waist, and she wasn’t exactly skinny.
“Anyone who ever considered you helpless was a fool. You were right to kick them to the curb. I’m no fool. Well, maybe I’m a little brain damaged, but I’m not exactly dumb. I know a perfect woman when I see one.” His expression was earnest, and his eyes were actually on her face and not her breasts.
Fee almost melted at his expression. His scent of honesty and citrus had her lying on top of him, snuggling into his big arms. Why was he suddenly exuding her favorite scent? “You are not brain damaged. You just have so much inside that head of yours, your hard skull can’t hold it all.”
Azure Secrets Page 28
