“There!” Dane pointed.
A white SUV cut him off and hit the gas, putting distance between them and it. “What the fuck?”
Marnie leaned between the two front bucket seats, peering out the windshield. “Shit. That’s my mom’s SUV. We’re too late. She’ll recognize this car and won’t stop until she’s lost us or runs out of gas. Strap in, boys—it’s going to be a long drive. Hope you filled the tank, Lucas.”
“She’ll pull over,” Dane said. “We’ll make her.”
Marnie put her phone on speaker and dialed. “Maybe she’ll pick up.” She leaned between the seats, swearing as her mother swerved left and right, crossing the lines, messing with traffic. “She’s insane!”
“Not news,” Lucas said.
“And she’s not picking up.”
“Tap her bumper,” Dane said.
“And take a chance she’ll flip the SUV?” Lucas scoffed. “We want to question her, not kill her.”
Marnie lunged, pressing Lucas’s knee down, forcing it on the gas pedal. His Chevy lurched forward, ramming into the SUV’s rear bumper.
“Shit!” Lucas shoved Marnie into the back. “Dane! Control your wife!”
Dane kept his hand out, preventing his wife from getting near Lucas’s leg again. “Let’s not try to kill your mother, honey.”
Charlotte swerved to the right, down a back road’s embankment and onto a narrow dirt road beyond. Lucas followed, wincing as the Chevy’s chassis scraped against the ungroomed terrain. He fought to control the car as Charlotte’s SUV hit a deep rut, overcompensated, and careened into a large tree.
Lucas swerved to avoid the same fate, but the Chevy’s wheels lost purchase. Despite his maneuvering, Lucas also hit a tree. His seat belt bit into his collarbone as the sound of metal meeting tree deafened him, punctuated by an explosion of air bags punching him in the face. Stars. He saw many stars. There was a ringing in his ears, accompanied by a hiss of deflating air bags. “Fuck.”
“Marnie? Are you okay?” Dane unbuckled, crawling back to his wife in the backseat.
“I’m fine.” Marnie rolled her eyes. “Stop fussing.”
Lucas’s swollen nose pulsed, and fresh blood poured down his face. His vision was clearing, though, revealing more bad news. “The hood is smoking.”
Charlotte jumped out of her SUV and ran. Lucas struggled to keep her within sight amid the trees. “You two okay?”
“Go,” Dane said. “We’ll follow. And Sullivan”—he grabbed Lucas’s arm as he opened his door—“Charlotte is small, but she’s without conscience.” Nodding, Lucas pulled his gun and ran in her direction.
There weren’t many things he could control at the moment. His life, as well as his beautiful car, were destroyed, but Charlotte Pleasant was something, someone he could control. He’d catch her and make her tell him everything; who’d hired her to steal the evidence and fuck with his life. Then this case would close, and Lucas could…start forgetting.
He rushed past trees, over shrubs, marveling at the old woman’s agility. He lost her for a second, and when he couldn’t find her in the brush, he panicked, then heard a crash in the distance. A car collision. Lucas pivoted in that direction, because odds were Charlotte was somehow to blame.
He broke through a particularly thick row of young saplings and came out on a paved road, gun at the ready. The sky was darkening, but there was enough twilight left to see a familiar blue Hyundai hanging off the embankment, flush against the tree it had hit. Harper’s car, the one that was supposed to be in the shop. Somehow, Charlotte Pleasant was behind the wheel, failing to start it, over and over again.
“Stop, police!” Lucas pulled his badge, aimed it and his gun at Marnie’s mother. “Hands where I can see them, Charlotte. Out of the car!” She swore, lifted her hands in the air. Lucas rushed forward, opened the door, and stepped back. “Out. Now.” He backed up as Charlotte complied.
“Lucas?” Harper’s voice came from behind the car, at the wood’s edge. Her forehead bled from a gash, and she held a satchel.
“Harper!” Lucas needed to focus on Charlotte, but Harper looked ready to collapse, and needed his help.
“I have the journal.” She held it out to him. “Charlotte had it. She was in the middle of the road aiming a gun at me. I lost control of the car.”
“Don’t tell tales!” Charlotte was pumped up and offended. “I had no idea it was you! You could have been anyone. I just needed the car. Don’t be getting me in any more trouble with Marnie.”
“Caleb dropped me off at the garage to get my car. They’d fixed it.” Harper grimaced, glancing at her trashed car. “I saw Charlotte there. She was talking to one of the mechanics. I think he was one of those men who attacked us, Lucas. The big guy. He handed this to her. I took a chance it was the journal and followed her.” She held the satchel up for a moment before allowing it to hang to the ground. “She lost me on the back roads. I got lost.” Harper indicated the tree. “My car is dead. But I wrestled her for the journal.”
With Charlotte’s hawk-like focus on him, Lucas didn’t dare shift his focus. “Are you alright, Harper?”
“You’re upset,” Harper said. “I understand. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” She pushed her red curls off her cheek, showing him both teary eyes. He wanted to go to her, make everything better, but he didn’t trust Charlotte not to bolt, or do something stupid…like kill them.
“Mom!” Marnie emerged from the brush on the side of the road. “What have you done?”
“Harper!” Dane rushed forward, his focus cut between his sister and Charlotte. “Are you okay?” He pulled cuffs from his belt and made quick work of securing his mother-in-law.
“No.” Lucas rushed toward Harper, beside himself with worry. “She’s not. She’s injured. We need to take her to the hospital.” She’d taken a beating these last few days, and it killed him that she was hurt again. She was so damn delicate, except when it came to his heart. Then she was a damn wildebeest wreaking havoc.
Exhausted, body and soul, he had no idea where she found the strength to remain standing. But she did, because that was who Harper was. Every mistake she’d made was based on her belief she was protecting the people she loved. Leaving him, betraying confidences to Folsom, keeping secrets. And just like that, it all became clear to Lucas.
This wasn’t Harper’s fault. This was all his fault.
If Lucas had been honest with Harper, told her his fears, none of this would have happened. Harper would have taken him in hand, stilled his worries, and they’d never have broken up. She wouldn’t have been vulnerable to Folsom because she would have been with him, and Folsom wouldn’t have had the guts to play her like he did…not with Lucas in the picture. Without Harper feeding Folsom Dane’s leads, the company would have crumbled under Dane’s detective work long before Marnie became involved. But without Lucas by her side? Why wouldn’t Harper trust Folsom? They’d all trusted Detective Joseph Folsom.
Hindsight was a bitch, and Lucas had allowed fear to rule his heart, used his father’s bad marriages and death to justify letting Harper slip away. He was an ass. This was all his fault.
Harper pressed her hand to her bleeding forehead and swayed on her feet. Lucas rushed forward, holding her upright. “Harper.” He needed to talk to her. Explain. “It will be okay.”
“So how do you like me now, Lucas?” She tilted her chin up, met his gaze. “Surprise, surprise, Harper’s flawed. Well, guess what. So are you. We all are.”
“Nothing wrong with me.” Charlotte gave a waggle to her head and frowned.
“Shut up, Mom.” Marnie was close to tears.
Harper’s focus remained on Lucas. “I was going to leave, go back to Boston. Leave everything that matters to me because I was so ashamed. I just can’t seem to do anything right, and…yes, I keep hurting my family. Joe used me, turned me into a weapon against them, and despite all my efforts, he did it again with the list. Then I saw Charlotte at the garage, and I was afraid
to follow, but I was more afraid not to. If she had the journal, I wanted it. It was the least I could do after all the problems I’d created by helping Joe.” Harper blinked and tears overflowed to her cheeks. “Then Charlotte stepped in front of my car.”
“Unintentional,” Charlotte said. “It wasn’t as if I planned on almost getting killed.”
Marnie shook her head. “Be quiet, Mom.”
Harper wiped a tear. “But even before the crash, I’d already come to the conclusion I couldn’t run from my family. The people I love.” Harper’s chin quivered. “I’m a MacLain. I fight for what I want.”
Her brother shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable as he restrained his handcuffed mother-in-law. “The MacLains are a fighting family.”
“Oh, for shit’s sake.” Charlotte rolled her eyes and tugged her restraints. “Can we get on with this?”
Lucas had no words. Instead, he picked Harper up, careful to cradle her without jostling her injured head. She relaxed in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. If her eyes weren’t open and blinking, he would have suspected she’d fainted. “You’re going to be okay. I promise.”
She studied the injuries on his face, reaching out, only to stop herself before touching his swelling nose and bruises. “I’m so sorry. So sorry.”
“We’ll take you to the hospital,” he said.
“Home. I want to go home.”
“You were in a car accident. Your head is bleeding.”
“My phone flew off the dash into my face. Stupid, but not life threatening. I’m tired.” She buried her face in his neck and sighed. “I want to be home, with my things around me.”
Lucas was torn. “I have to transport Charlotte Pleasant to the station, and I need to hand in the journal.” He finally had solid state’s evidence. “This is my case and Dane can’t take custody of the evidence.”
Harper nodded, somber. “Of course. That’s more important.”
The job was more important. As his father always said. Lucas picked his way over roots and brush to his car, rethinking the mantra he’d lived by for his entire adult life. When he reached it, he found the Chevy in flames, smoke billowing from under its hood. “Fuck.”
Dane led Charlotte by the arm. They stopped next to him. “Car’s dead,” Charlotte said.
Dane palmed his phone. “I’ll call dispatch.”
“All that’s missing is marshmallows.” Marnie pressed her hand to her belly.
Harper caught her gaze. “You okay, Marnie?”
“I’m fine. Just hungry.” She gave Harper a somber wink. “We’re fine.”
Harper’s sigh was born of relief and exhaustion. “After we take the flash drive and journal to the precinct, I’m going home and soaking in my tub until I slough off this horrible week and pretend it never happened.”
Lucas wasn’t okay with that, and couldn’t allow it. Harper MacLain mattered more to Lucas than anything in the world. More than his career. Hell, more than his life. He loved her. He adored her. The idea that he could go back to the way things were before this week was ludicrous. He wouldn’t survive it.
That was something his father had never warned him about. If you love someone, the job isn’t enough to fill the void of their absence.
So what was he going to do?
Lucas took a deep breath and realized there was only one thing left to do. If it took his life, limbs, or last breath, he’d convince Harper MacLain she belonged to him. Him. Lucas Sullivan.
Fighting MacLains? She’d never seen anything like the stubborn Sullivans.
Chapter Nineteen
By the time they arrived at the precinct, the rumor mill had gone wild. Federal marshals, FBI special agents, and Internal Affairs officials lined the halls, intent on Lucas, the MacLains, and their perp, Charlotte Pleasant. A few knew of their secret cargo. Only a few. But soon… Harper knew soon there’d be a reckoning.
The farther they walked into the building, the more noticeable it was that those loudest about their dislike of all things MacLain were missing. Those that remained oozed curiosity. Investigators by trade, they sensed a revelation coming, yet Harper saw no distrust in their gazes. No animosity. It was refreshing, because Harper was exhausted, in pain, and all she wanted to do was hide from judgment. Her self-judgment was heavy enough to bear. Her family’s judgment even heavier.
When they’d first arrived, Dane had suggested Harper go home, escorted by Marnie, but neither she nor Marnie were willing to miss the final denouement when the evidence was delivered to Lieutenant Zimmerman. Solid evidence. Not circumstantial. Lucas’s memory notwithstanding, without the journal and the flash drive, the case against the dirty cops would never have gone to trial.
By the time they arrived at the lieutenant’s office, a trail of curious cops had gathered, queuing behind them like a middle-aged-man parade. Lucas and Dane stepped inside the office, escorting a recalcitrant Charlotte.
Door open so all could hear, Lucas dropped the journal on the lieutenant’s desk.
A tall, lean man in his early forties, Zimmerman seemed moments from a smile or a scowl. “What’s this?” he lisped.
Harper cringed, remembering the impediment was the result of Dane breaking his jaw last year.
“Names,” Lucas said, “of cops on Whitman Enterprises’ payroll. Folsom’s plan B.”
“Not much of a plan B,” Harper said. When everyone looked at her, as if she had no place in the proceedings, she stared back, unrepentant. “He’s dead, isn’t he? Joe’s dead.” Finally, that horror had no power over her. He was dead, the tragedy of the last year officially behind her now that Zimmerman had the journal. “These bad cops were willing to kill anyone to stay hidden. Well, there is no hiding anymore.”
Dane caught Harper’s gaze. He nodded, unable to hide how this moment was ripping open old wounds. She felt Lucas’s hand take hers and squeeze.
“You read it?” Zimmerman glanced between Lucas and Dane.
“Cover to cover on the way over here,” Lucas said. “There are a few surprises.”
The lieutenant’s brow arched. “You’re surprised my name isn’t in it?”
Dane stayed quiet, but Lucas shrugged. “Surprised might be overstating it, but yeah. You haven’t been the staunchest supporter of Dane’s quest to find his wife’s killer.”
“I was doing my job,” Zimmerman said. “When you become my age, Sullivan, you learn the job matters. More than anything else sometimes.”
Lucas shook his head. “I don’t agree. In fact, I quit.” Without missing a beat, without returning anyone’s shocked gaze, Lucas pulled Harper’s hand to his mouth and kissed it. “I’ve been a fool.”
Harper froze, gob smacked. Then he tugged her down the hall to a conference room.
“What are you doing?” She turned to see if anyone was following. So far, they were being ignored. To the members of the MPD, the action was taking place in the lieutenant’s office.
“Coming to my senses.” He locked the conference room door, dragged a chair underneath the door, stood on it, and aimed the security camera toward the ceiling.
“Excuse me?” Her mouth had gone dry. “What are you doing?”
“Aren’t you tired of being spied on? I know I am.”
“Okay.” She shook her head, not really knowing what he was on about.
“A year ago, I took you to a restaurant.” She remembered. It was the moment she’d realized he’d never change, that she was falling deeper and deeper in love with a man who would always put his career first. “That night…I wanted to tell you I loved you,” he said.
“You did?”
He nodded, standing before her, looking less confident than she’d ever seen him. “But every time I opened my mouth, I had my dad’s axiom running through my mind. A career is a meal. Love is its seasoning.”
“What? Didn’t your father marry three times?” Meal, seasoning—how like a man to equate love to food.
“Dad was wrong. I don’t know why I’m surpr
ised.” Lucas threw his hands up and let them fall, looking helpless…and strong, and sexy. Somehow, even his bruised and battered face added to his allure. “He died alone and lonely.”
“You’re afraid of being lonely. Who isn’t?” She shook her head. “You’re an amazing guy, Lucas. I don’t think you’ll be alone for long.”
He studied her, and she saw his sadness. It broke her heart. “I hope you’re right.” Lucas stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. He glanced at her lips, as if asking permission for something.
“What are you doing?”
“Explaining.” He kissed her sweetly, gently, and winced. Harper saw his tongue dart out and lick his latest wound. A split lip from the air bag deploying in the Chevy.
“Explaining?” She kissed around his injuries, which was hard, because after today, there wasn’t much skin left that didn’t have a bruise or abrasion.
“Dad was buried in his uniform, wearing three wedding rings on a chain around his neck. Three failed marriages, sacrificed to a job he knew would be there, no matter what. Unlike his wives. Unlike my mother.” He cupped her cheeks, dropping a gentle kiss on her lips, and this time it didn’t look like it hurt. In fact, he seemed interested in exploring more of the same.
“Three’s a big number when you’re talking marriages.” It explained much. Lucas’s reticence to commit. His drive to be the best cop he could be. “You’re not your father.” Though she had to admit Lucas was repeating his father’s mistakes.
“I love you.” He held her close, holding her gaze as if his words weren’t enough to convince her. Harper melted against him, because she knew…probably always knew he loved her, she just had never been sure he loved her enough. He pressed his lips to her forehead, kissing her, hugging. “And I’m claiming you.”
Tempted by a Touch (Unlikely Hero) Page 21
