by Dee Davis
He nodded, but she could see that he didn’t believe her, see that he was already letting go.
She drew in a shaking breath, tears clogging her nose and throat. “I love you, Daddy.”
He smiled again, this time so gently it tore at her heart. “I love you too, princess.” His hand fell lax and his head dropped to the side, his eyes still open, a single tear tracing its way down his cheek.
“Daddy.” She screamed, fumbling for his pulse, pounding on his chest, trying to force him to breathe, to make him live. “Daddy.”
“He’s dead, Riley. He’s dead. Let him go.” Leon’s voice was deceptively calm. She tipped back her head to look at him, her father’s head still cradled in her lap.
“Tell me why you let this happen, Leon.”
“It was all about protection, Riley. I protected him then, and that’s what you’re going to do now.” He glanced at Maudeen, who was still kneeling beside Carter, tears streaming down her face. “That’s what we’re all going to do. This is how it’s going to play out.” Leon stood up and then leaned down to pick up Martell’s gun. “Osterman, here, broke into the house. And your father tried to stop him, getting shot in the process.”
“You want us to lie?” Maudeen stared at him, incredulity coloring her expression.
“I want you to protect Carter.”
“Protect you, is more like it,” Riley said. “My father wouldn’t want this. He’d want us to tell the truth. To finally put an end to the lies.”
“Haven’t you learned anything about your father in the last few minutes?” Leon stroked the barrel of the gun slowly, his eyes seeming to lose focus. “All he ever cared about was winning the game. And he didn’t give a damn who got hurt in the process.”
“You’re confusing my father with you, Leon. Daddy may have been a weak man, and he may have acted out of anger and emotion, but he wasn’t capable of cold-blooded murder.”
Slowly the barrel came up, pointing at her. “I can’t let you drag me into this, Riley. I’m sorry.”
The door slammed open as Jake burst into the room, his breathing ragged, his eyes narrowed in anger. “Leave her alone.”
Leon swiveled to face him, leveling the gun, and Riley watched, horrified, as he cocked the hammer. “Well, isn’t this just perfect. It will play beautifully in the papers. The candidate, his daughter, and her lover all dying in each other’s arms.”
Rage seared through Riley. So many people had been hurt. But not Jake. Never Jake. “No,” she screamed, springing at Leon, just as the world seemed to blow apart.
“Riley.” The gun’s explosion swallowed the sound of Jake’s voice, then the room grew strangely silent. Maudeen was standing beside Carter O’Brien, his lifeless eyes visible even across the room. A man Jake didn’t recognize lay on the floor in a pool of blood.
It looked like the aftermath of a battle scene. Only the battle hadn’t ended. In the center of the room, Riley and Leon still struggled, their hands locked together on the gun, cold steel shining deadly in the fluorescent light.
Jake’s breathing stopped, his chest caving inward under the pressure of his fear. “Riley.” He said her name again, this time on a whisper. He had never felt so helpless.
Riley and Leon moved in tandem, almost as if someone had choreographed their deadly dance. Jake watched in horror as the gun exploded again. Riley dropped to the floor, the gun clattering from her hand.
Leon dove for it, but Maudeen was faster, grabbing it and leveling it on the older man. “It’s over, Leon.”
Carter’s right-hand man froze, his eyes devoid of emotion, his face crumpled—old. But Jake didn’t care. What mattered now was Riley. In two steps he reached her, his hands searching wildly for a pulse.
Silver eyes opened. “Jake.” There was a world of hope in the sound of his name, and Jake felt tears against his cheeks.
“Did he hurt you?”
“Not physically.” She pushed back her hair with a bloody hand. “I thought he was going to kill you.”
“But he didn’t. I’m fine.”
She touched his face, tracing the lines of his jaw, as if reassuring herself that he was indeed unharmed. “It was all about Daddy.” Her gaze shifted to her father’s body, pain bubbling to the surface, her anguish laid bare. “Michaels, Larsen . . . all of it. He killed Caroline. Oh God, Jake, he killed my sister.” She clung to him, her eyes begging for answers, her body shaking as the sobs ripped through her.
“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. Somehow, we’ll make this okay.” He rocked her back and forth, pulling her close, willing himself to absorb her pain, wanting only to make it go away. He turned to Leon, hatred threatening to consume him. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? How many people you’ve hurt?”
Leon stared at Riley, his eyes haunted, his face twisted in agony. “I didn’t mean for it to end like this.”
“You didn’t mean for it to end at all.” Maudeen waved the gun menacingly. “If you’d had your way, the secret would have stayed buried.”
“What the hell is going on in here?” David walked into the room, gun drawn, three uniformed policemen behind him. The cavalry to the rescue. Only they were too damn late.
“Carter killed Caroline.” Maudeen sighed, dropping the gun, metal clattering against the wood floor. She sank down beside the senator, her hand stroking his hair. “And Leon was covering for Carter.” She looked up at Leon, eyes glittering with regret. “All these years I thought it was you. I would never have sent the autopsy report if I’d known the truth.”
“You sent it?” Jake frowned.
Maudeen nodded. “I thought if I could get Leon out of our lives, Carter would be happier.”
“And you almost cost him the presidency,” Leon barked, a little of his former bluster returning.
“That’s all that ever mattered to you, isn’t it? The presidency.” Riley lifted her head, her eyes still bright with tears, her gaze locked on Leon. “You killed my father with your ambition, as clearly as if you’d pulled the trigger.”
Jake tightened his arms around her, her courage making him proud. David bent to pick up the gun, and the policemen moved to flank Leon. “Did Bryce know about all of this?” Jake asked. “Is that why you framed him?”
“No.” Leon seemed to be shrinking before their very eyes. Aging as they watched. “He never knew. But he also never believed it was an accident. He started nosing around, looking for answers. I tried to deal with him, but he wouldn’t listen.” He ran a hand through his hair, his expression resigned. “He left me with no choice. He needed to understand who he was dealing with. To understand just how out of his depth he was.”
“So Michaels helped you frame him.” Jake frowned, trying to put it all together.
“Yes. Douglas was ambitious. I simply played on that. It was the same with the autopsy report. A promise of money and power will accomplish almost anything.” He glanced at Maudeen. “I missed your copy. Didn’t even know it existed.” There was regret in his voice, but Jake couldn’t tell if it was for his failure or the havoc it had caused.
“So why did it all surface again?” David asked. “I mean, you covered your tracks. What happened?” He narrowed his eyes, studying the older man.
“You already know the answer to that.” Leon’s eyes met Jake’s.
“Hank Larsen.”
Leon nodded, seeming to relish the telling now that he’d started. “He stumbled on information that proved Michaels had purposefully withheld witnesses in Daniels’s case. He had no idea what he’d stumbled onto. But with Carter so close to election,” Leon shrugged again, “we couldn’t take a chance.”
“So you hired Osterman to take care of Larsen.” This from David.
“Yes. And I thought that would be the end of it. But I hadn’t counted on you.” Leon lifted his gaze to Jake’s. “You were the wild card. Larsen told Michaels about you. And Douglas told me. And then when you called him—”
“Michaels?” David asked.
“Yes. When Mahoney called him, he freaked. He thought it was all over. That Jake knew everything.”
“So you had Martell try to kill Jake.” Riley’s voice was harsh, anger bringing color to her cheeks.
“And almost killed you.” Leon’s voice was sorrowful. “I never meant to hurt you, Riley.”
She looked away, laying her head back against Jake’s chest.
He stroked her hair, fighting the urge to go for Bronowsky’s throat. “So you tried to kill me,” Jake said. “And then when that failed, you tried to kill Daniels. Why?”
Leon leaned back against the desk with a shrug. “You were getting too close. And with Michaels dead, I wasn’t certain how long I could keep him in prison. He was a good candidate for parole. Between that and your nosing about, I figured it wouldn’t be long before he started to talk. From there it wasn’t such a big leap to the truth. So I had the threat eliminated. I used some of Michaels’s connections. The overdose was staged.”
“But it all fell apart anyway.” David sounded as disgusted as Jake felt.
“It would have been fine, if Osterman hadn’t panicked.” Leon’s voice almost sounded petulant. “He’s the one who killed Amber Northcott. Thought the bitch was going to blow the whistle.”
“Christ, Leon, after everything that’s happened, you’re still trying to blame someone else.” Maudeen spat the words out.
“If anyone is to blame, it’s you—and my father,” Riley said to Leon, her voice soft, her hand still curled in Jake’s. He tightened his fingers around hers, his heart breaking at the depth of her pain.
“No matter what else happened here tonight, Riley,” Leon said, his voice filled with conviction, “remember that Carter died, saving you. In the end, you were the only thing that mattered to him. He loved you. More than anything. And that has to count for something.”
She looked over at her father, a world of emotions chasing across her face—betrayal, anger, love, devastation. The last of these cut into Jake’s heart, making him want to kill Carter O’Brien all over again. Slowly, she struggled to her feet, her eyes never leaving her father’s body. “It isn’t enough, Leon. Nothing will ever be enough.”
Jake wanted to grab her, to never let her go, but he knew she needed to be able to stand on her own. To deal with it all in her own way. Perhaps she would choose to put everything—everyone—behind her. Uncertain, he waited, barely daring to breathe.
She turned then, the shadow of a smile at odds with her tears, and held out her hands. In less than a heartbeat he was on his feet, pulling her back into his arms, his eyes devouring her.
“I’m okay,” she said softly, framing his face with her hands. Her eyes told another story, but at least she was alive, and he was holding her. It was a start. “And you’re here. And I love you. And that’s what really counts.”
He stroked the soft contour of her cheek, his heart ready to burst. “I love you too. And we’ll find a way to get through this, Riley—together. For Caroline, for her baby—for your father.”
She shook her head, reaching up to wipe away his tears. “For us, Jake. We’ll do it for us.”
He pulled her closer, content just to listen to the sound of her heart beating against his. The moon winked at him from behind the clouds, its dappled light silvering the air outside. The storm had passed.
And they had survived.
Epilogue
HAYWOOD JAMESON SAT in the realty office conference room, marveling at the fact that he was not only a free man, but a moneyed one as well. His release had brought a partial reconciliation with his family.
The prodigal son returned.
Not so much because he’d been forgiven, but more because it looked magnanimous for them to open their home and kill the fatted calf. Whatever the reason, he’d been delighted. He no longer had need of his family or their lifestyle, but he needed their money. So he’d gone back into the fold.
At least in theory. He smiled, wondering what his father would say to his current endeavor.
“I think I’ve got most everything I need, Mr. Jameson.” The pretty real estate agent sent him a flirty smile. And to his great surprise, he returned it.
Maybe he was healing after all. Maybe from all that had happened, he’d be able to find something good. To rebuild his life. To find new direction.
“I need a quick summary of what your plans are for the building.”
Haywood smiled again. “I’m turning it into a halfway house. For teenagers in trouble. A place they can stay until they can find their own path. I want to give kids a shove in the right direction. Help them live up to their potential.”
The woman smiled again. “What a wonderful thing to do.”
Haywood shrugged. “It wasn’t my idea, actually. It was the dream of a friend of mine.”
“Was?” She tilted her head quizzically.
“He’s dead.”
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
Haywood smiled. “It’s all right. He’s at peace now. I’m certain of it.”
The woman bent over the papers, obviously still embarrassed. “What will you be calling it?”
“Second Chances.”
Haywood shot a glance toward heaven, certain that somewhere Bryce Daniels was smiling.
“That’s the last of it.” Riley watched as the moving men carted away the boxes, leaving an empty house behind. Rivercrest looked alien without its trappings. As though it had already shed the last vestiges of its tragic history, ready and waiting for someone to come along and give it new life.
“You’re certain this is what you want to do?” Jake came up behind her, his arms slipping around her, his support feeling as natural to her as breathing.
She turned in his arms, her eyes meeting his. “Positive. The only thing here is the past. And what I want is the future—with you.”
Worry drew his dark brows together in a frown. “I can’t help but think that you’ll miss all this. Life as a reporter’s wife won’t be as grand as all that you’re used to.”
She touched his lips with her finger, smiling. “It’s just what the doctor ordered. All of this was an illusion, Jake. It never existed, except maybe in my father’s deluded mind. I want something real. Something we can build on together. I want new memories. And I want them with you.”
He bent to kiss her, his touch a covenant—the promise of wonderful things to come. She leaned into his arms as they walked toward the front door. Mr. McKafferty sat forlornly in the entryway, his lopsided bow seeming to underscore his dejection.
Laughing, Riley bent to pick him up. There was a card tucked under his chin. She opened it, Jake peering over her shoulder. The writing was Adelaide’s.
Everyone should have something old at their wedding.I thought maybe this would do nicely for you. Some memories are worth holding onto.
Riley felt tears welling, and Jake’s arms tightened around her. “This is Caroline’s bear.” She looked up into his eyes, wondering if he could ever understand all that the little bear stood for.
He stroked the side of her face, his smile tender. “Then I think we should take him home with us. Maybe someday give him some kids to play with.”
Riley tucked Mr. McKafferty under her arm, linking her hand with Jake’s. “Shall we go?”
Together they walked out onto the front porch, surprised at the flashes from photographers. She’d forgotten about the press. They’d been kept out of Rivercrest for weeks, but today there was no one to keep them away.
Carter O’Brien was buried beside her mother. Caroline, her husband, and their baby lay peacefully in their corner of the graveyard. Maudeen was moving up East somewhere. And Leon was awaiting trial.
It was over. And Riley was more than ready to move on.
“Miss O’Brien, Miss O’Brien.” Questions assailed her from all angles, and she steeled herself into an assumed calm, Jake’s hand tightening around hers, telegraphing his strength and support.
“Miss O’Brien...” A man stood
a bit away from the crowd, pencil ready. “Are you planning to follow in your father’s political footsteps? There’s talk that you might run for his Senate seat.”
She sucked in a breath, and pasted on what she hoped was a gracious smile. “I have no intention of running for anything. Political life was my father’s dream, not mine.”
They moved forward, Jake’s firm hand guiding her through the throng.
“Miss O’Brien?” She looked up, recognizing the voice, Edna’s eyes smiling down at hers with approval. “You just said your dreams aren’t your father’s. Could you tell us then what your dreams might be?”
She lifted her chin, tightening her hand around Jake’s, knowing their whole lives lay ahead of them. One grand adventure. She met Edna’s gaze, returning her smile. “I don’t know, but I certainly intend to find out.”
Read on for a sneak peek at the next novel of romantic suspense by Dee Davis. . . .
MIDNIGHT RAIN
Coming Winter 2002
Prologue
Coahuila, Mexico
What he needed was a little excitement. Jonathan Brighton shook his head, trying to clear it, to stop the slow incessant onslaught of fatigue, forcing himself to concentrate on the road ahead. It was the sameness that was getting to him. The lack of anything remotely entertaining.
The hazy mountains shimmered in the distance, taunting him, the diametric opposite of the arid hell hole he was driving across. As if in testament to his thoughts, a swirling cone of dust chased a tumbleweed across the road, dissipating when it reached the other side.
What in hell had possessed him to come here? He’d needed a break from the everyday headaches of running Guardian, but surely a nice beach located next to a five-star hotel would have been a better choice of getaway. Instead he was heading for a mountain retreat that was apparently located in the middle of nowhere. Somewhere remote.
Isolated.
Jesus, he’d been insane.
Or rather Florence had. She’d been the one to insist that he needed something different. Something quiet. And his partners had jumped right on his secretary’s bandwagon, offering their sage advice. Go here. Go there. Take this road. Take that one.
