by Rebecca Deel
“Can’t help it, sugar. You’re exhausted and ghost white.”
Nate swung around. The medic was right. He hadn’t done a good job watching out for her. “What sounds good to eat, baby?”
“I’d really like scrambled eggs and toast.”
“Coming right up.”
While he scrambled a dozen eggs and toasted and buttered bread, Deke and Stella relayed the events of the evening. He plated the food, set the plates in front of the marshals, then grabbed his own.
“Incredible,” Josh said. “I guess you didn’t see the shooter, Deke?”
The marshal swallowed his bite of eggs. “He had a head start and never turned around.”
Josh was quiet while they finished their meal. “Wonder if one of the homeowners has a security camera mounted outside. If so, we might have a picture of his face.”
“Long shot,” Quinn said as he finished the last of his soft drink.
“Sometimes those pay off.” Josh stood and gathered the empty plates and carried them to the dishwasher. “Stella, Deke, why don’t you go on to bed. We’ll continue the discussion in the morning.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What about the rest of you?”
“As soon as we clean up. We need to decide the watch schedule for tonight. Nate, walk your girl to her door.”
He grinned. “Glad to obey that order, Major.” Nate kept Stella’s hand in his as they walked to her room. Deke slipped past them.
Nate opened Stella’s door and ushered her inside, pushing the door almost closed. He cupped her face and indulged in long, deep kisses. He lifted his head, pleased to find her flushed. “Thank you, baby.”
She blinked. “For kissing you?”
“For saving my life.”
Her gaze sharpened and locked with his. “I couldn’t handle losing you, Nate.”
He trailed the back of his fingers down her velvety soft cheek. “I love you, Stella.” Another kiss, this one soft, gentle. “Sleep well. We’ll tackle the rest in the morning.”
Nate returned to the hall. A last kiss at her door and he rejoined his teammates.
“About time,” Quinn grumbled.
“Is Stella okay?” Rio asked. “She didn’t look good, Nate.”
“Riley’s shooting shook her,” he admitted.
“She’s a cop,” Alex said. “She’s seen gunshot victims before, including people she knows. The upset wasn’t about Riley, Nate. It was about you.”
“I know.” The possibility Stella might second guess marrying him concerned Nate. Stella didn’t think she could handle losing him? Nate knew he’d be condemned to a half life without her. “I’ll take the first watch.” Let his teammates rest. Sleep would be a rare commodity this night for him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Nate strode into the hall, fresh from a shower. At just after six in the morning, he hoped to make French toast and bacon before the rest came downstairs. Rio and Quinn had bought four loaves of bread the day before. Even Durango couldn’t eat that many sandwiches in a day.
He stopped short at the entrance to the kitchen. Stella stood at the stove, wrestling with a package of bacon. He smiled at her muttered imprecations at the plastic protection. “Morning, beautiful.”
Stella pivoted, knife in one hand, bacon in the other. “Good morning.”
“Need help?”
She scowled at the package. “The company used super glue.”
He took the bacon from her hand. In a couple of deft moves, the plastic pieces separated and he laid the opened package on the counter.
“Show off.” She laid the knife on the counter and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he murmured against her lips and kissed her.
When he broke the kiss, Stella said, “Whew! Your kiss is more potent than a double shot of espresso.”
“So is yours, my love. Did you have something specific in mind for breakfast?”
“Not really. Bacon sounded good.”
“You handle the bacon while I whip up a batch of French toast.”
“Ooh, I haven’t had French toast in ages. How long until the guys wake up?”
“Most of them are already stirring. Josh will be in soon.”
She grabbed an electric skillet and set it on the counter. “Where has he been?”
“Patrol. He took the three to six shift.”
“Who took the first one?”
“I did.”
“What? Nate, why aren’t you sleeping? You must be exhausted.”
“I’m fine, sweetheart. I’ll catch a nap later if I need it.” He pulled out eggs and milk from the fridge and placed them on the counter. Next, he grabbed cinnamon from the spice cabinet and got to work.
Within minutes, the aroma of bacon frying and French toast sizzling filled the cabin. His teammates followed the scent of food.
Quinn stopped beside Stella. “I thought the food Nate was cooking smelled so good. It’s actually you, Stella. Have you wised up and dumped our favorite bomb maker, sweet thing?”
“Watch it,” Nate said with a frown.
Alex snapped on Spenser’s leash and went to the back door. “Leave her alone, Quinn, or you’ll find yourself eating sandwiches for the duration of this op.”
“That’s cold, man. He wouldn’t do that to me. We’ve been friends too long.”
Stella smiled at the spotter who promptly circled her shoulders with his arm.
Durango’s sniper shook his head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Let’s go, Spenser.” He and the Lab went into the backyard.
Nate shoved Quinn’s arm off Stella and handed him a platter filled with French toast. “On the table, Romeo.” To Rio, he handed a stack of plates and pointed at the table. “Deke, grab the orange juice. Coffee’s ready in two minutes.”
Josh strode into the kitchen from the living room. “Thought I smelled breakfast.”
“Got time for a shower.” Nate handed Stella the second package of bacon which he’d already opened. She laid uncooked strips in the skillet.
“Save some breakfast for me.”
“Deal.”
The final meal preparations passed swiftly. They sat down to eat when Josh walked in, hair still damp. “Z called a couple minutes ago.”
“Does he have something?” Nate asked.
“He found a picture of Rick Ashworth online. Someone from Redding wanted to preserve the high school’s heritage by digitizing the pictures of alumni. He’s sending the picture to your email.”
“Great.” At least they’d know who they were looking for if their culprit was Ashworth.
“Still no mention of Rick Ashworth online aside from the alumni photos. If he’s dead, even the government doesn’t know. Z didn’t find a death certificate, either.” Josh loaded his plate and began eating.
Nate’s cell phone signaled. He clicked on the new email. He studied the picture of the clean cut teen with dark hair and dark eyes. Even if he hadn’t known about Ashworth’s background, he recognized the weariness and hopelessness in his eyes, had seen the same expression in the eyes of kids during his years with Delta and now Fortress. Those kids had the eyes of elderly men and women, and broke his heart every time he saw it. No kid should have to grow up that hard and fast.
“Is that Ashworth’s picture?” Deke asked.
“Take a look.” He handed over his phone.
The marshal glanced at the screen and froze. Shock widened his eyes.
“Deke, do you recognize him?” Stella asked.
“Oh, yeah, and so will you.” He slid the phone across the table to his partner.
“I can’t believe this. It’s Rich Morris.”
“How do you know him?” Nate asked.
“He’s Joseph Manetti’s right hand man.”
“Why didn’t Luke Dyson ever run into him? He worked for one of Manetti’s companies, right?”
“Morris works at the family compound and is camera shy. Luke never went to the compound. They did
n’t cross paths. Morris, though, was aware of Luke’s position with the company. He knows about everything and everyone. He’s the reason Manetti was so successful evading jail.”
“And now that the old man’s in prison?”
“He keeps operations running as though Joseph were still in charge,” Deke said.
“No one’s trying to take over?”
“People who cross Morris tend to disappear without a trace.”
“There’s the obvious connection between Manetti, Ashworth, and Luke.” Josh pushed away his empty plate. “Now we need to find the link between them and the leak.”
“Call Jordan,” Stella said.
“Please,” Rio said with a scowl. “It’s too early to mention that man’s name.”
“And definitely not over food,” Quinn added.
“She’s right.” Josh carried his dishes to the dishwasher. “He can scoop up Ashworth. And he’ll be more amenable to the task if we save him an unnecessary trip to Redding.”
Nate stood. “I’ll contact him. Finish your meal.” He walked outside and called the agent. “It’s Nate. We found Rick Ashworth.”
“Alive?”
“As far as I know.”
“Where is he?”
“In Joseph Manetti’s compound.”
Raw curses flowed from his cell phone. “What’s his new identity?”
“Rich Morris.”
“Manetti’s number two man?” He groaned. “That man has more security on him than a celebrity.”
“Why?”
“He knows where the bodies are buried, literally.”
“Why didn’t you guys taken him down along with Manetti?”
“No proof to tie him to any crimes. He says he’s a business manager and we can’t pin anything on him that tells a different story. But Morris knows everything Manetti had his hands on. Thanks for the tip. I’ll talk to him.”
Uneasiness twisted in his gut. “Jordan, take some good guys with you. If Morris is the one who’s killing all these people, he won’t balk at killing another federal agent.”
“Worried about me? I’m touched.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He didn’t like good men killed in the line of duty, even if they were annoying like Jordan. “What’s the word on Riley?”
“Bullet passed through his shoulder. The surgery to repair the damage was successful. He’ll be out of commission four months. According to the doctor, he’s lucky. The bullet could have done a lot more damage. A few centimeters over and his career in law enforcement would have been history.”
So close. At least Riley wouldn’t need a new career unless Nadine convinced him to try a safer career. “I’m glad he’ll recover.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
“What did he say?” Stella sat beside him on the porch step and rested her head against his shoulder.
“He’ll talk to Morris. Riley will make a full recovery. He’ll have a few months of vacation with his family.” If you didn’t count the physical therapy he’d suffer through.
“At least he’ll be alive to take that vacation.”
“Do you want to see Riley today?”
“Yes, and so would Deke.”
He brushed her mouth with his. “Go talk to him. I’ll be along in a minute. I have another call to make.” One he hoped put a smile on his family’s faces.
When Stella returned to the cabin, Nate called a familiar number. “Hi, Dad.”
“Nate. Good to hear from you, son. Are you feeling all right?”
He frowned. “I’m fine. Why?”
“It’s not Sunday.”
Nate chuckled. “Funny, Dad.” So he routinely called on Sundays unless he was on an op and couldn’t. The habit had kept him in his parents’ good graces while deployed around the world. The habit was a good one. It kept him grounded and made his mother happy. “Is Mom around?”
“Right here.”
“Put me on speaker.”
A little fumbling, then, “We’re ready, Nate.”
“Hi, baby.”
The rich contralto of his mother’s voice brought a smile to his face. “How’s the belle of the Armstrong kitchen?”
“Better now that I’ve talked to you. You sound good, Nate. I was afraid something was wrong when I heard your father say your name.”
“As a matter of fact, everything is great. I have some news.”
“Sounds interesting. Before you tell us your news, how is your injured teammate? Remy, right?”
“Recovered enough to go on an extended honeymoon.” That thought still made him shake his head in bewilderment. How had Remy convinced prickly Lily to marry him so fast? The next time he saw one of them, Nate wanted an answer to his question. It was bound to be an entertaining story. He was also happy for them. They both deserved many years of happiness together.
“Good for him. Now, what did you want to tell us, son?”
“The next time I’m home, I plan to bring someone with me.”
“Who?” his father demanded to know. “One of your teammates?”
“The woman who agreed to marry me.”
Yvette Armstrong gasped. “You’re getting married?”
“To Stella Grayson.”
Silence greeted his statement. Oh, man. His parents had seen the news coverage of the murders and Stella’s arrest. “Stella didn’t kill anyone. She’s being framed.”
“Is there proof to clear her?”
Yep, his mother was one sharp lady. “We’re working on that. Durango is with me as well as her U.S. marshal partner, Deke. Stella is amazing and I’m crazy about her.”
His father chuckled. “We already knew, son. We were waiting for you to figure it out. She’s the only woman you’ve talked about for months.”
“That obvious, huh?” He was surprised his siblings hadn’t harassed him about Stella. That would change when the news spread through the family that he was marrying her. Hopefully very soon.
“When will we meet her?” This from his mother.
“As soon as we clear her name, we’re taking a couple weeks for ourselves. I’ll bring her home, then.”
“Excellent. Let us know as soon as possible. We’ll have a family party to celebrate.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Armstrong family parties were legendary. Food spread out on several tables. Music. Laughter. Wall-to-wall people, most family, but friends also dropped in to join the celebration. The parties lasted until well after midnight. Good times in their tight-knit family.
“Nate,” his father said. “Is there anything we can do to help Stella?”
He considered that a moment. Being in the restaurant business, the Armstrongs heard things, rumors and facts alike. People ignored waiters and waitresses. While his parents manned the kitchen, any number of cousins bussed and waited on tables. Since gossip was like a national pastime in the Armstrong clan, he wouldn’t be surprised if they knew something about Joseph Manetti. “What do you know about Joseph Manetti or his businesses?”
“Does your question have anything to do with your Stella’s situation?”
“Looks that way.”
A soft whistle from Calvin Armstrong. “Nasty bit of business, that one. Some of his cronies and employees like our restaurant. They stop in occasionally. We’ll take their money, you understand, but I’m glad Manetti and his people don’t live nearby. Lots of turmoil in Manetti’s organization, some resentment at the man running the businesses. No one denies the money is flowing in, but there’s a power vacuum that others want to fill.”
Nothing unusual about that in his experience. “Go on.”
“There was a scandal years ago. Maybe eight or ten years. Manetti’s only daughter became pregnant and refused to tell Manetti who the father was.”
“The man never accepted responsibility?”
“Not that I’ve heard. Does that help?”
“Every slice of information we gather adds another piece to the total picture. Thanks, Dad. I need to go.” He smiled as the sun warmed
his face. “I’ll call Sunday.”
The sound of laughter came through the phone. “We love you, Nate,” his mother said. “Be safe, baby. Give Stella a hug from us and tell her welcome to our crazy family.”
“Love you both.”
Nate returned his phone to his pocket. When he turned, he saw Stella standing with her back to the door, worry clouding her beautiful eyes. He spread his arms. “Come here, baby,” he murmured. When she came closer, he wrapped his arms around her. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough to realize you were talking to your parents. Did you tell them about us?”
“I did.”
“Were they upset?”
“Your future in-laws said to tell you welcome to the family.” He tightened his arms a moment. “That’s a hug from them.”
Breath whooshed from her lungs. “I can’t believe they accepted the news so easily. I thought they would encourage you to find someone else.”
“That’s never going to happen, Stella. I love you. I will always love you. In fact, my parents wanted to know if they could help clear you.”
She pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Really? I wish my parents had offered the same.”
“They should have, something your father will regret one day. Dad said Manetti’s crew comes through the restaurant once in a while. He picked up some interesting tidbits of information.”
“Like what?”
“There are people in the organization who would love to fill old Joseph’s shoes.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Not exactly a surprise.”
“He also said Manetti’s daughter became pregnant and refused to ID the father.”
“Manetti’s daughter is named Maya. She has a daughter who’s about nine years old. Kayla’s a beautiful little girl.” Stella frowned. “I don’t know if the information helps, but it’s interesting. I didn’t know Maya kept the father a secret.”
He dropped a soft kiss on her mouth. “Is Deke coming with us?”
“He’ll be out in a minute. He’s talking to his kids.” She smiled. “Bella and Dora are telling him about chasing the seagulls at the beach and finding shells to bring home for him.”
“They sound like a handful.”
“The best kind.”
Nate studied her tender expression. “You want children, sweetheart?”
