Extreme Measures

by Brenda Harlen

  Colin scrubbed his free hand over his face, wishing that there was a simple solution to his dilemma. But once again, he was being forced to make a choice.

  He laughed bitterly. Except that he didn't have a choice anymore. Nikki had taken the decision out of his hands when she'd told him to go. Obviously she didn't believe they had any kind of future together.

  The phone was ringing when he stepped into his apartment. He didn't pick it up. It was probably just Ian calling again, and he wasn't in the mood to be harassed by his agent.

  Despite her claim that she would have gone to Texas with him five years ago, she wouldn't even consider going now. Obviously she didn't love him as he loved her. The custody papers she'd given him had made it more than clear that he and Nikki were looking at their relationship from different perspectives. He wanted her forever. She, apparently, had a more limited time frame in mind.

  The phone stopped ringing; the answering machine clicked on.

  "Colin, it's Dylan. I've been trying to reach you at this number and your cell for the past hour and I keep getting this damn machine or your voice mail. If you get any one of the dozen messages I've left, call me right away."

  Colin ignored the message and picked up his keys. The tone of Dylan's message nagged at him, but he wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone right now. He just wanted to drive for a while. Maybe he'd stop by the police station to see Dylan, but not yet. He needed some time and space to think first, the solitude of the road to help him come up with some answers.

  The one thing he did know was that he wasn't giving up. No way in hell was he going to leave his wife and child.

  He was walking out to his Jeep when another vehicle pulled into the driveway with a squeal of tires, blocking him in. Dylan Creighton bounded out of the car toward him.

  "Why the hell don't you answer your phone, McIver?" The detective's tone conveyed both anger and relief.

  "I was on my way out."

  "Then you're damn lucky we got here when we did."

  It wasn't until Dylan's "we" that Colin noticed the other officer who had stepped out of the vehicle and was now donning something that looked like an armored space suit. "Who's that?"

  "Mark Wallace, otherwise known as the Fairweather Bomb Squad."

  "Bomb Squad?" Colin frowned. "What are you talking about?"

  "Just give me your keys," Dylan instructed.

  Colin handed them over.

  "Give me the keys," Mark said, zipping up the front of his suit. He held out a hand, and Dylan relinquished the keys.

  "Is someone going to tell me what the hell's going on?" Colin demanded.

  "Maybe nothing," Dylan told him, as Mark unlocked the Jeep, then released the latch on the hood. "But we're about to find out."

  "Stay away from the vehicle," Mark said.

  Colin ignored the order and moved closer to peer over the bomb technician's shoulder. He sucked in a breath as he spotted what appeared to be a blob of white modeling clay with a series of wires protruding from it attached to his engine.

  He retreated quickly. Although he'd never seen anything like it, he'd be willing to bet both his Stanley Cup rings that it was a bomb.

  "Come on," Dylan said, taking Colin's arm to steer him farther away from the vehicle. "Let's get out of the way so Mark can do his job."

  "How did you know it was there?" Colin asked.

  Dylan blew out a breath. "Sheer dumb luck," he admitted. "I have a contact, someone who sometimes passes along information to me."

  "A snitch?"

  "He objects to that term, but yeah. Anyway, he heard from someone else that a local dealer of explosives had recently sold a small quantity of C-4. He was apprehensive about dealing with an out-of-towner, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. When the client picked up the merchandise, he hinted about his plans, about the high-profile case he was working on."

  "And you concluded I was the target from that?"

  "It was a leap," Dylan admitted, "but a logical one, considering the attempts on your life in Texas and Maryland had both involved bombs."

  Colin leaned back against the side of the house. Dylan was right. It was sheer dumb luck that he'd been alerted about the bomb. Sheer dumb luck that Colin was still alive.

  After only a few minutes, Mark stepped away from the Jeep, holding the device in his hand.

  "Isn't that dangerous?" Colin asked.

  "Not now," the detective told him, sliding the device into a clear evidence bag. "This kind of bomb requires a Charge in order to detonate. It was attached to the vehicle's starter box, designed to go off when the current from the starter hits the electrical ignition switch."

  "You mean as soon as I turned the key…"

  "…it would have set off the bomb," Mark finished for him.

  Colin glanced from his Jeep to the house, where Nikki and his daughter lived. If the bomb had detonated— He hadn't even completed the thought before another, even more horrifying one, struck: what if Nikki and Carly had been in the Jeep with him?

  The possibility staggered him. He'd come to Fairweather to hide out, and in doing so he'd brought danger to the door of his ex-wife and their child. So long as he remained in town, both Nikki and Carly were in jeopardy.

  "We'll have someone come out to tow the vehicle to the crime lab for further testing," Mark said.

  Colin just nodded.

  "Are you okay?" Dylan asked.

  Colin managed to laugh. "I'm alive. I guess I should at least be grateful for that."

  "We'll find who did this," Dylan promised him. "We already know where the explosive came from, which is a huge break in a case like this."

  "Your friend said the guy was a professional. Finding him won't end this." Especially not with Parnell still at large.

  "It's the first step."

  Colin wished he could believe it, but the nightmare had become far too real, the killer had struck too close to home. "I'm going back to Texas tomorrow," he decided.

  "Why?"

  "I came to Fairweather because I believed I could be safe here. I'm not—and neither are Nikki or Carly, not as long as I'm around." He knew that Dylan, better than anyone, would understand the grief and guilt that would consume him if anything happened to his family.

  Dylan nodded. "I'll send a copy of my report to Detective Brock and keep him apprised of new developments on this end."

  "Thanks." He shook Dylan's hand. "For everything."

  Colin returned to his apartment and grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator, wishing like hell he had something stronger to steel his frayed nerves. He wanted nothing more than to get drunk—to forget how close he'd come to putting his key in the ignition and sending his sorry soul to its fateful end.

  He twisted the top off the bottle and drank deeply. He had only one thing to do now: book a ticket out of this town. It wasn't a task that he looked forward to with any enthusiasm, but it was a necessary one.

  He'd take the first flight available tomorrow afternoon, even if it got him to Texas via Alaska. All that mattered was getting away, keeping Nikki and Carly safe.

  He would have to tell them he was going, and he had no idea how he was going to do that. Not that the words really mattered. Nothing he could say would make it any easier.

  "I'm going back to Texas."

  Nikki had almost convinced herself she was prepared for such an announcement, until Colin actually said the words aloud.

  "When?"

  "Today. After we talked last night…" He shrugged, as if the words he sought eluded him. "I just think it's better this way."

  It was Nikki's turn to nod. This was what she'd expected. Why, then, did she feel an inexplicable sense of loss?

  "You were right," he told her. "The coaching job is just too good an opportunity to pass up."

  Because after he'd left last night she'd spent the better part of the long, lonely evening reconsidering his offer. Because although she knew it would be a gamble, she'd decided they did deserve a second chance.
And because she'd promised herself that if he asked her again to go to Texas with him, she'd say "yes."

  But it didn't seem as though he had any intention of asking her again. So she swallowed her pride and finally said, "Did you still want me and Carly to go with you?"

  He seemed startled by the question, almost panicked by the thought. The reaction might have amused her, if it hadn't hurt so much.

  "No," he said. "Your objections were valid—and my proposal was an impulse. You and Carly have a life here."

  "And your life is in Texas."

  "I can't pass up this opportunity."

  It was difficult to swallow around the sudden tightness in her throat. "Have you told Carly?"

  Something—pain? regret?—flashed in his eyes. "Yeah. And I've already contacted her day camp, to register her for the rest of the summer."

  "Oh. Good." He obviously wasn't wasting any time. Well, that was probably for the best—there was no point in delaying the inevitable.

  "Maybe this time we could say a proper goodbye," he suggested.

  He laid his hands on her shoulders, stroked them down her arms. The simple touch sent the blood racing through her veins.

  "Just one last kiss, Nicole."

  One kiss. She couldn't refuse his request, couldn't refuse herself this last opportunity for closure.

  She tilted her face toward him. His lips brushed against hers. The touch was soft as a whisper, and somehow more powerful than anything she'd ever experienced.

  He laid his palms against hers, laced their fingers together. He kissed her for what seemed like forever, with such infinite gentleness that it brought tears to her eyes.

  And she responded with everything in her heart, able to hold nothing back. She'd never been able to hold back with Colin. Once again, she'd given him everything she had, everything she was, and she'd been left with nothing.

  She grasped at the thought, but it slipped away, and her mind went completely blank as his tongue swept along the seam of her lips. She opened for him, met him eagerly, conscious only of the multitude of sensations evoked by his kiss. Of the feeling that she and Colin were inextricably linked—hand to hand, heart to heart. Forever.

  Except this wasn't forever.

  This was goodbye.

  As if the thought had been transmitted from her subconscious to his, Colin slowly eased his lips from hers.

  She leaned her forehead against his chest and concentrated on breathing. She could feel the heavy pounding of his heart. Or was it her own?

  Taking another breath, she drew back and found that her knees were still unsteady but able to support her weight. Then she looked at him, and the depth of emotion in his eyes stunned her.

  "I—"

  She didn't know what he'd planned to say, only that she was certain she didn't want to hear it. She shook her head fiercely to halt his words and blinked against the tears that threatened. He'd made the decision to leave; there was no point in saying anything more.

  "Good luck, Colin." Her voice wasn't as steady as she'd hoped.

  Colin exhaled, but squeezed her hands gently before releasing them. "Goodbye, Nic."

  Colin had booked a one-way ticket in his own name direct to Texas. Whoever the bastard was that was after him, he wanted him to follow this time. He wanted him as far away from Fairweather and Nikki and Carly as was possible.

  He leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes, unable to fathom how much he missed them already.

  He never would have thought it was possible to love someone as quickly, as fiercely, as he loved his little girl. But from the first moment he'd set eyes on her, he'd felt a connection between them. A bond of blood that would never be broken—even if they were separated by more than a thousand miles.

  His heart broke a little more with each mile as the plane took him farther and farther away from her. Carly had lived the first four-and-a-half years of her life without him; she didn't need him. But he wanted to believe she'd miss him, just a little.

  Colin's throat tightened. He didn't want to be the kind of father who sent gifts for birthdays and other special occasions. He didn't want to talk to his daughter once a week over a long-distance phone line. He wanted to be there for her, every day. But he would stay away from her and be glad of the distance if it was the only way to keep her safe.

  It might not be such a big adjustment for Carly, anyway. After all, it wasn't as if she was losing her father. She'd understand that "Uncle Colin" had to go away for a new job. And maybe, one day, Nikki would find someone to be the kind of husband she wanted, the kind of father Carly deserved.

  He wouldn't have thought it was possible, but the knife that had plunged into his heart when he'd said goodbye to his family dug even deeper, twisted painfully. He couldn't stand the idea of Carly calling anyone else "Daddy," even if she'd never used that title for him. He didn't want to even imagine Nikki with another man.

  God, he would do anything to erase the stark pain he'd seen in Nikki's eyes—pain he'd caused. He knew she thought he was leaving because he didn't love her enough to stay. The truth was that he loved her too much.

  He knew he'd done the right thing by leaving Fairweather, but his conviction didn't make the emptiness any more bearable.

  Needing a diversion, he called Ian from the skyphone on the plane. With his agent's help, maybe he could finally put an end to the games.

  "I'm on my way back," he said when Ian answered the phone.

  His agent's relief was palpable. "I'm glad you finally came to your senses."

  Colin didn't bother to dispute the point. "I want you to contact the media."

  "Why?"

  "I want it known that the Tornadoes intend to re-sign me, that I'm returning to finalize negotiations."

  "I'm sure it will be in the news after the contract is signed."

  "I want it on the news today."

  "All right," Ian relented after only a brief hesitation.

  Colin ended the call with a grim sense of purpose.

  Come and get me, you bastard.

  Chapter 16

  When Arden came home from work that afternoon, Nikki was sitting alone in the living room. She wasn't crying. She'd shed more than enough tears over Colin MacIver to last a dozen lifetimes, and she refused to cry anymore. There was nothing left inside her, anyway. Colin had been gone for three hours, and her heart was as empty as the apartment downstairs.

  "What happened?" Arden asked, concern in her voice. "Is something wrong with Carly?"

  Nikki shook her head. "Carly's fine. She's upstairs playing."

  "What's wrong?"

  Her throat tightened and traitorous tears burned behind her eyes. "Colin's gone."

  Arden sat down on the sofa beside her. "Gone where?"

  "He went back to Texas today."

  "Why?"

  "His agent called. He's going to be coaching in Austin this year."

  "Colin's agent is coaching in Austin?"

  Nikki managed a slight smile. "No. Colin's going to be coaching in Austin."

  "Oh." There was a wealth of understanding, and empathy, in that single word.

  "Yeah."

  Arden put her slender arms around Nikki's shoulders. "I'm so sorry, Nic. I thought … well, it doesn't matter what I thought." She held her tighter.

  "I should have been prepared for this," Nikki said, her voice sounding strangely hollow to her own ears. "I thought I was prepared for this. But when he drove away…"

  Her only consolation was that he hadn't looked back, hadn't seen her standing at the window watching him leave. Again.

  "I hate him for doing this to you. Again."

  "Me, too." But she could—she would—hold it together. She had more important things to think about than her own disappointment. "I hate even more to think about how Carly will be affected by this."

  "She's a kid, she'll bounce back." Arden's deep brown eyes probed gently. "I'm more worried about you."

  "I'm okay."

  "You do
n't look okay."

  "Thanks," Nikki said dryly.

  "You miss him already, don't you?"

  "Maybe."

  Definitely.

  She'd thought she'd protected her heart this time. As if by not speaking the words out loud she could prevent herself from loving him. She knew now that wasn't possible. She did love Colin. It was possible she'd never stopped loving him.

  "Did you tell him?" Arden asked, somehow following her cousin's internal monologue.

  She shook her head.

  "I think you should," her cousin urged. "If he knew how you felt about him—"

  "It's too late."

  "I don't believe that. A man doesn't look at a woman the way Colin looks at you unless he has some pretty strong feelings."

  "Not strong enough, obviously." She was helpless to prevent the bitterness from creeping into her voice. He'd told her he loved her, but when it came right down to it, he loved hockey more.

  "I must have been a victim of temporary insanity," Nikki confessed. "I promised myself I wouldn't get involved with him, and I did anyway. But I managed to justify it to myself. Spending time together, sharing laughs, having a consensual sexual relationship—there was no harm in any of that so long as I didn't fall in love with him."

  "But you did," Arden said softly.

  "Yeah." She swiped at the tears that spilled onto her cheeks. "I am such an idiot."

  "Love makes people do crazy things."

  "I didn't expect him to stay for me," she said. "Not really. But I thought … I hoped … that he might … maybe … for Carly."

  "Does she know he's gone?"

  Nikki nodded.

  "How's she handling it?"

  "She seems okay. So far, anyway. We'll see what happens when she has to go to day camp tomorrow morning."

  "Just take it one day at a time," Arden advised.

  Nikki nodded, knowing that was all she could hope to do.

  She forced aside the regret and moved on with her day. Her heart might be feeling a little battered and bruised, but there were still things that needed to be done.