Over the Line

by Kelly Irvin

  “Having a family has a way of changing that.”

  “If I were a surgeon, for example, would this be a topic of conversation?”

  She studied her hands in her lap.

  “I’m sorry.” Alder, you idiot. Ease up. “That was out of line.”

  “No. You’re right. I brought the subject up. Paolo had a crazy schedule, but when he came home, he was home. He was present.” She touched two fingers to her swollen lip. “Your world is foreign to me. TV photographers shot video of our car the night Paolo died. Stories ran on the ten o’clock news. They speculated about whether alcohol was involved. The next day, the paper ran a story—your paper. It was . . . invasive. Small children lost their father. Their mother was in the hospital for weeks, in rehab for months. It wasn’t a story to me.”

  “Do you understand why it’s news?”

  “Not really.”

  “The hope is that people will learn something about the dangers of driving while intoxicated.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe mangled cars and flashing lights just make good video. If it bleeds, it leads.”

  “Give me time to convince you that there are members of the fourth estate who are more than ambulance chasers.” He backed up and then edged closer so the wheels of their chairs almost touched. “Ask Gabriella. I’m very good in a debate. I know my stuff.”

  “We’ve been through a horrific experience together.” Her words came slowly. “One filled with heightened emotions. If I were a psychologist advising me, I’d say go slowly, you two. You’re from different worlds. Tread carefully.”

  “After what we’ve been through, my prescription is throw caution to the wind and live. Live and love.”

  “Throwing caution to the wind has its appeal. Are you sure you want to do that with a woman paralyzed from the waist down? It comes with a set of challenges you can only begin to imagine.” Natalie’s expression turned wistful. “I come with a boatload of baggage.”

  “Don’t underestimate me.” He swallowed the hard knot in his throat. “I know I’m not your first love. I know I’m not a surgeon. I’m not even brave. But I’ve been told I’m a decent guy. And I’m patient. I’m willing to wait until we’re on the same page because you are worth waiting for.”

  “Let’s try a first date.”

  “What do you mean? We’ve had several. A home invasion, a road trip, gun drawn in the middle of the night. We’re on date four, at least.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “I know. And I’m serious when I say you’re worth waiting for. I’ll wait forever as long as you let me keep kissing you.”

  The sadness gone, Natalie grinned. “You are a decent kisser.”

  “Only decent?”

  “Fishing for compliments?” She offered a knockout smile. “I might need to refresh my memory.”

  “Friends don’t kiss.”

  “Purely for research purposes.”

  They kissed, a slow, gentle kiss that rocked Deacon down to the soles of his dirty New Balance sneakers. Her eyes closed, she leaned back and sighed. “Definitely decent. By the way, my favorite flavors are rocky road, cookie dough, and coffee with caramel and chocolate chunks.”

  “You bum.” He wheeled around and shot down the hallway. “First one to the other end gets another kiss.”

  Which made them both winners in his book.

  Chapter 43

  Eli still slept when Gabriella opened her eyes an hour later. She touched his forehead. Cool. No pain lined his face. She brushed his lips with hers and slipped out quietly so she could speed walk to Jake’s, the second of three hospital rooms occupied by people she loved. By God’s grace all three would be around to annoy her and love her and fill her life with joy for many days to come. Her body felt so light, she might float to the ceiling any second. She pushed open the door to find Natalie and Deacon keeping Jake company. More people she loved.

  “So you decided to grace us with your presence.” Grinning, Jake pushed up against a pile of pillows. He was a pale, battered, bearded shadow of his former self. And that was only the outside. “I can’t believe you guys called Mom and Dad over a little kidnapping.”

  “I can’t believe you’re taking up space in this hospital, you big faker.” Gabriella threw the gauntlet down. Banter with her little brother. A dozen hours ago it had seemed as if that might never happen again. “You just want nurses waiting on you hand and foot.”

  “And someone to cook for me.” Jake patted his flat stomach. “And bring me drinks.”

  Gabriella couldn’t respond. The joy of seeing him alive took her breath away. She smoothed his sheets and adjusted his pillow until the tears were under control. “Don’t you ever do that to me again. I think it’s time for you to change jobs. Have you ever considered teaching law enforcement?”

  “Or maybe I should become a chef.” He grabbed her hand and yanked, forcing her to sit on the bed next to him. “Would you give me a job?”

  “In a heartbeat. We could be partners.” Then she would never have to let him out of her sight again. She leaned closer. “How are you really doing, bro?”

  His jaw worked. He shrugged. “Hanging in there.”

  “I’m sorry about Sunny.”

  “Me too. I’m an idiot.”

  “You weren’t working her for information?” At most it had been a feeble hope. Her brother had a kind heart, not one that would go to any length to crack a case. “I figured if you really loved her, you would’ve told us about her. You were thinking about marrying her and you didn’t even tell us or bother to introduce her.”

  “You were going through a bad breakup.” He stared at the ceiling for a second, then met her gaze. “You’re still conflicted about Mom and Dad. Natalie, you haven’t exactly had it easy. I was going to tell you, but I kept putting it off. Besides, I knew you would be concerned about how little time I took to get to know her.”

  “So you had no idea she was involved?”

  “Do you think I would’ve gone to Reverend Cavazos with her if I had?” He moved restlessly. “She was so sweet and kind and smart. The whole package. I couldn’t believe I’d found her.”

  “She’d probably been fooling people her whole life. Psychopaths are like that. Right, Natalie?”

  “We don’t call people psychopaths.” Natalie moved her chair closer to where Deacon sat hunched over his laptop writing with a rapid-fire hunt-and-peck style. “It’s possible, though, that she has an antisocial mental disorder in which she is able to mimic acceptable behavior in order to get what she wants with no fear of the consequences of her actions. It sometimes manifests itself with violent social behavior. She was definitely a narcissist.”

  “A psychopath.” Gabriella shivered. It wasn’t the AC. The memory of the look of pure hatred on Sunny’s face as she stared up at Gabriella would remain etched in her memory forever. “It ran in the family. Her dad, her uncle—they’re intelligent, charming, and psychotic. How do people get like that?”

  “There are reams of paper devoted to that subject.” Her face lined with pain, Natalie rubbed her hand over her sling. “It’s the nature versus nurture argument. In this case it could be both. They feed on each other. They were unnaturally close, and Sunny modeled her behavior on her father’s and her uncle’s. Who knows what skeletons are hidden in their family closets.”

  “And I introduced her to Reverend Cavazos.” Guilt carved lines on Jake’s battered face. “I feel so bad about the church.”

  “Don’t. Eli and I carry that load.”

  “Nobody here is responsible,” Natalie intervened. “A criminal threw that Molotov cocktail. Just like criminals killed Larry Teeter.”

  “Larry was a good guy just getting started. With a little more time, we could’ve been excellent partners.” Jake sank lower in his bed. “We thought we were on the right track and the whole time Andy Mendez was wining and dining Rincon. Kyle Sullivan knew every move we made.”

  “They were hiding in plain sight.” Deacon snapped the laptop
shut. “Andy Mendez used a long and illustrious career as a patriot and a law enforcement icon to mask his new occupation. It’s sad to think his service in Vietnam and the way he was treated when he returned sent him down that path.”

  “Many of our servicemen and women were treated badly when they came back,” Natalie pointed out. “They didn’t turn to crime and murder.”

  No one could argue that point. The room grew quiet. The image of Sunny standing in the South Texas brush in cowboy boots with an AR-10 cradled in her arms loomed in Gabriella’s mind. She patted Jake’s arm. “I’m really sorry.”

  “I’ll get over it.”

  “At least we got the bad guys.” Natalie sought Deacon’s hand. Their fingers entwined. It was good to know that their relationship would now have time to blossom. “And you cracked the case.”

  “We got some of them, and because of that, we’ve stymied for two or three minutes the flow of guns into Mexico via Laredo to Nuevo Laredo. ICE will fill in the tunnel with cement.” Frowning, Jake touched the bandage across his forehead. “The Mexican authorities will fill the tunnel in Nuevo Laredo. But this is just a hiccup in the gun supply flowing into Mexico. When one tunnel closes, another one opens. We take two straw buyers and one facilitator out of circulation, six more step up. It’s lucrative for them and the cartels need the firearms.”

  “Job security.” The sad truth. It would never end. It would never be over. Gabriella sighed and laid her head on her brother’s pillow. “In case you don’t hear it from anyone else, we’re proud of you, little brother. You serve your country every day, and people don’t appreciate what that means.”

  Natalie and Deacon joined in with a round of applause and loud hoots and hollers.

  “Thanks, guys.” Jake grinned his trademark lopsided grin. “Now bust me loose. I need out of here. I need real food, true sustenance. Carne guisada, tortillas, pico de gallo, arroz con frijoles—”

  “Stop, stop.” Natalie shook her finger at him. “The doctor wants you here for another night for observation. Maybe Deacon can run out and pick up takeout for us.”

  “Absolutely. I’ll introduce you to my favorite restaurant.”

  “You could pick up the kids. I’m sure they’d love a visit.”

  “I haven’t seen Cullen and Ava in forever.” Jake’s voice quivered. He wiped at his face. “I hope they’re not too traumatized. I’m sorry about all this, Nat.”

  “They won’t believe you’re okay until they see for themselves.” Natalie wheeled over to the bed. She grabbed his hand and held on. “They’ll be fine. We all will.”

  “Can you hold down the fort?” Gabriella hugged her brother’s neck and slipped from his bed. “I need to make a phone call.”

  “Vic?”

  “I already called her and filled her in on everything. She sends her love.”

  “Then who?”

  “Mom.”

  Her siblings’ hoots followed her into the hallway. God, here goes nothing. She took a breath and punched in the number.

  Mom picked up immediately. “How is he? Is he is all right? We’re at Heathrow, getting ready to board the aeroplane. We’ll be in San Antonio tonight.”

  “He’s fine. He’s good, and Eli will recover too. I need to talk to you about something else.”

  “What is it, honey?”

  “I’m sorry, Mom.”

  “For what?”

  “For being an unforgiving turd.”

  Chapter 44

  One apology down, one to go. On the long walk to Eli’s room, Gabriella rehearsed the words she would say. She prayed for his response.

  His room was dark and quiet. Her head bowed, hands clasped, Virginia sat next to her son’s bed. Gabriella slipped closer. She took Eli’s hand and closed her eyes.

  A few minutes later, Virginia sighed. “He’s doing better.”

  “He’ll be fine.”

  “I pray for God’s will to be done, and then I tell Him what He should do.” She breathed a soft chuckle. “I’m sure God is tickled by my audacity.”

  “A mother’s love.”

  “A thankful mother who knows she has been blessed with the love of a good man and good children.”

  “When will you tell him what you told me?”

  “When father and son are stronger.” Her gaze, still clear and untroubled, met Gabriella’s. “Xavier knows I told you. He agrees it was the right thing to do. Together, we’ll tell Eli when he is well.”

  “I won’t say anything until he brings it up to me.”

  “He will. I told Xavier I’d bring him a chocolate milkshake. I think he just wants me to leave him alone for a while.” Virginia rose and gathered up her canvas bag covered with red-and-pink embroidered flowers. “Can I bring you something?”

  “Deacon went for food.” Gabriella hugged her. Virginia’s scent was different from her mother’s. Like Dove soap. “I’ll come by to check on you later.”

  “Right now, it relieves my heart to know Eli is in your hands.” She paused at the door and looked back. “Thank you for getting him out of there.”

  “It was a group effort.”

  Virginia smiled. “But you did it for love.” She slipped away.

  Eli stirred. “Mamá?”

  “She went back to your dad.”

  He stilled.

  “Are you up to talking for a minute?”

  “To you, always.”

  Gabriella kicked off her shoes and scooted onto the bed next to him. Careful not to touch any of the tubes and wires, she slid her arm under his head and shoulders. She held him close. His warmth assured. “I love you.”

  “Love you too, querida.”

  “Whatever you did, whatever it was, I forgive you.”

  “I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

  “You do.”

  Tears leaked from his eyes. She brushed them away. “You’re the love of my life. Yesterday, you almost died for me.”

  “You, for me.”

  “Don’t you think that’s a sign?”

  “Sí, mi amor.”

  Gabriella kissed his hair, his forehead, his swollen nose. His head lifted. Their lips met in a long, soft, bittersweet kiss. Pain, anger, bitterness, despair, uncertainty, they all ebbed. If not gone, they were the hard-earned building blocks of the foundation on which they would build a sturdy house. A house filled with the certainty that it was possible to know someone better than yourself and love them for who they were with all their sins, faults, and warts.

  She pulled away slowly. “Do you trust me?”

  “Sí.”

  “I trust you too.”

  “Marry me?”

  “I will.”

  He sighed. “Finally.”

  “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  His eyes closed. His chest lifted and fell.

  Her future husband slept.

  Gabriella curled around him and closed her eyes.

  Chapter 45

  This day couldn’t get any better. Gabriella pulled the Mustang into a parking space three spots down from Eli’s Charger in Brackenridge Park. She grabbed her hair up in a ponytail, twisted a hair band around it, and smoothed a few unruly strands that tried to escape. The picnic basket on the seat next to her held thick roast-beef-and-swiss sandwiches on homemade rye bread with Eli’s favorite spicy mustard, hummus and pita chips, double-chocolate brownies, sliced Granny Smith apples, Eli’s Dr Pepper, and her choice of fizzy water. The suggestion for a picnic in the park after church had been his idea. The menu, hers.

  The sun shone on a rare humidity-free, semicool October day in San Antonio. Maybe if Eli was up to it, they could take a walk. If not, they could feed the ducks at the river. Or sit on a bench and people watch. Or lie on the blanket and look for shapes in the clouds.

  No pressure. No secrets. No tension. Six weeks into his recuperation, Eli still moved slower than he would like. He worked out with a physical therapist three times a week, saw the departmental shrink, and gave up smoking. Fo
r good this time, he insisted. He watched her cook. Sometimes he cooked for her. Or camped in the backyard with the kids.

  Or played poker with Deacon, Jake, and his buddies from the PD.

  Attending church together proved to be the cherry on top. For the first time in their relationship, he seemed at ease sitting next to her in the sanctuary. To her surprise he had a beautiful tenor that soared on the hymns he said reminded him of a childhood filled with such songs. Reminded him of his dad. The peace in his eyes assured her they were good memories. Today, he said he had an errand to run—doing what, he wouldn’t say. Only that he had a surprise and she would like it.

  The thought spurred her on. She grabbed the basket and plaid blanket and went in search of her future husband. The high-pitched sound of children laughing and screaming filled the air. Such a happy sound. The smell of fresh-cut grass mixed with the muddy scent of the San Antonio River. Happy childhood memories accompanied her as she walked across the street toward Joskes Pavilion. Eli sat, long jean-clad legs sprawled out, on a bench under an enormous live oak tree next to the old stone picnic pavilion. A bunch of kids chased each other around the playscape.

  He looked like a man at peace. Her heart thudded. He looked good.

  His gaze captured hers. He smiled. Her breath caught. Even better. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  “What are you thinking about?” She eased onto the bench next to him. “How many we’ll have? Are you ready to change diapers? Or get up for three a.m. feedings?”

  “All of that and more. I’m thinking four or five.”

  “More like two or three. We’re old.”

  His arm came around her shoulders. He leaned in. His lips brushed her forehead. A tremor ran up her spine. The day turned warm. “How are you feeling today?”

  “Ready for people to stop asking me that.” His lazy smile took the sting from the words. “It’s a gorgeous fall day. The sun is shining. I have no pain. I’m sitting on a bench in a park with the beautiful woman I love. I’d say I’m feeling really good.”

  “I promise I’ll stop asking—eventually.” Gabriella glanced around. “So I don’t see a gift wrapped in fancy paper and topped with a shiny silver bow. What’s my surprise?”