“Nah, just doing push-ups with the wife.”
O’Hara laughed as he reached for Nick’s hand. “Welcome back, Strada.”
“Thanks, Phil.”
“Does this mean I still have to pay you the twenty-five bucks I owe you?”
“Why else do you think I came back?”
Ramona Brill pushed O’Hara aside and punched Nick in the shoulder. “You rat! I can’t believe I actually cried at that memorial service.”
Grinning, Nick lifted his hand and tugged lightly on her red ponytail. “And I can’t believe you missed me, pest.”
She shook her head. “Neither can I, pain.” Grasping his arms, she stretched up to plant a smacking kiss on his mouth.
The captain’s gruff voice cut through the whistles that followed Ramona’s kiss. “All right, all right. This can wait until after we take care of business. Everybody out.”
As Nick’s colleagues grumbled and filed out the door, Gilmour frowned at Lauren. “Miss Abbot, we’ll make a statement to the media after—”
“She stays,” Nick said, putting his hand on her shoulder.
“You’re in no position to give any orders, Strada.”
“I can vouch for Lauren’s trustworthiness, Captain. And she already knows more about this than you do.”
Without further delay, Gilmour directed Wanda to the chair in front of his desk. Between the long day and the painkillers she’d been given at the hospital, she was obviously close to exhaustion. Still, she repeated her story about the night Joey had been killed, reciting the details in her wavering earthy-innocent voice.
By the time she had finished, the captain’s scowl had deepened. He opened the door and waved Ramona inside. “Detective Brill will take care of you now, Miss Smith. Thank you for your cooperation.”
“You’ll be fine now,” Lauren said, giving Wanda’s hand a squeeze. You have a beautiful voice, and if you need any help when you’re well enough to get back to work, you still have my number.”
“Thanks, Miss Abbot.”
Lauren stepped back to let her walk past. “Even if you just want to talk, call me, okay?”
Ramona put her hand on the small of Wanda’s back and gently ushered her out of the office. “Come on, honey. Let’s get you to bed. I guarantee everything’s going to look a lot better in the morning.” She paused to smile at Nick, then clicked the door shut behind them.
Gilmour raked his hand through his thinning hair as he moved back behind his desk. “You really opened up a can of worms this time, didn’t you, Strada,” he muttered. “Adam Duxbury. You were right after all.”
“We have another eyewitness to back up my story,” Nick said, counting off the points on his fingers. “We have documented proof of Duxbury’s capacity for violence. We have enough background information on Duxbury’s dirty business deals to destroy the squeaky-clean image he’s been hiding behind. And once I’m back on the case full time, it’s a sure bet I’ll find more evidence.”
“We have enough for a warrant now, but you can forget about working on the case. Epstein and O’Hara will take it from here.”
“What?”
“After the stunt you pulled? Your hot-dog tactics are going to do more damage to this department’s credibility than one of those cheap detective shows.”
“It’ll blow over. Besides, it was the only way to protect my family.”
“That’s not necessary anymore. With your death, the contract was lifted.”
Nick clenched his fists, leaning forward. “So you knew about Duxbury’s contract all along. You said there wasn’t any proof.”
“There still isn’t. Epstein heard about the contract through one of his informers after the plane crash. And now that we have an eyewitness, Duxbury has nothing to gain by renewing his threats.”
“Then it worked. They’ll be all right.”
“Just because things worked out this time doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate conduct like yours again. And don’t hold your breath about getting back on the payroll. Until personnel updates the computer files again, you’re still dead.”
“Gee, thanks, Captain.”
“I have a good mind to leave you that way.” Gilmour braced his hands on his desk and glared at Nick. “If you ever pull another stunt like this I’ll bust you down to kindergarten crossing guard.”
Nick took Lauren’s elbow and started for the office door. “Since I’m not getting paid, there’s no point hanging around to listen to this crap.”
“Strada!”
He paused, glancing over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Leave Duxbury to Epstein and O’Hara. That’s an order. We need to do the rest of this by the book or his lawyers will find a way for him to get off. Have I made myself clear?”
“Perfectly.”
Gilmour transferred his glare to Lauren. “Be aware that this is still an ongoing investigation. If you reveal information prematurely, it could jeopardize our success.”
Lauren nodded once to acknowledge the advice. “It’s Lieutenant Strada’s miraculous return that will be the focus of my story, Captain Gilmour. After seeing what Adam Duxbury is capable of, I have no intention of doing anything that might prevent him from being brought to justice.”
“If that’s true, then you’ll wait until he’s arrested before you go public.”
“I won’t wait indefinitely.”
“Twenty-four hours. That’s all it should be.”
She nodded again, then pulled a card from her purse and handed it to Gilmour. “Please call me if it’s sooner. I assisted Lieutenant Strada in this deception on the clear understanding that I would have the right to break his story. If you want my continued cooperation, then I expect to have yours in return.”
Nick listened to her words, marveling at how cool and composed she sounded. Evidently she had impressed the captain, and that was no easy feat.
From the moment they’d left the hospital, she had slipped back into her professional mode, staying in the background, silently observing. More often than not, whenever he’d look at her, she’d be jotting down points in the small spiral notebook she kept in her purse.
He knew what she was doing. She’d thrown those icy barriers back up around her and was doing her best to submerge all the warmth and passion he’d come to know. She said she wanted his story, and she was making damn sure that’s the only thing he was going to be able to give her.
But this wasn’t over yet. No, not by a long shot. They had unfinished business between them that had nothing to do with the story that would eventually hit the airwaves.
“How long do you think it will take?” Lauren asked as they left the police station twenty minutes later.
He watched the way her hair turned silver in the stark lighting of the street lamp, thinking about how she’d looked last night under the fluorescent light in her kitchen. He’d lost track of the time the moment he’d kissed her, so he had no idea how long it would take—
“Nick? Do you think it will take another day before Duxbury’s arrested?”
“Maybe. Epstein and O’Hara are solid, dependable cops. Considering what I’ve already given them, they’ll get him.”
“All right.” She stopped beside her car, her keys already in her hand. “That will give me a chance to put my notes in order before we go on the air.”
“We?”
“I’d like to do a live interview at the station with you the moment Captain Gilmour. gives me the go-ahead.”
“Before I go on the air, I want to see my family.”
“Oh. Of course. I’ll drop you off at your mother’s house and then go back to my place to pack up your things. I’ll bring them to the studio, so you can pick them up then.”
“Hey, for someone who likes to take things slow, you’re sure in a hurry to get rid of me,” he said, moving closer.
“Nick, it’s pointless to prolong this.”
Trailing his fingertips down her arm, he covered her hand with his. “I don’t think so.”
“We both have lives to get back to. We both have jobs to do. I’m happy that everything turned out well for you, but it’s over.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Nick...”
“My family was the reason I had to play dead while I went after Duxbury. And it’s because of your help that they’re going to be safe now. They’ll want to meet you, Lauren. Besides...” he added, taking the keys from her hand to unlock the car door. “My story isn’t over yet. You’ve been with me from the start, so you might as well stick around and see how it ends.”
Although the rest of the tree-lined street was sleepily dark and quiet, the Strada house was ablaze with lights, the inside door standing open in welcome. Lauren tried to stay a few steps behind Nick as he headed up the walk, but he grinned and grasped her hand, tugging her along with him with his usual impatient energy.
He’d just reached the doorstep when there was a shriek from inside the house. In the next instant, the screen door banged against the wall and two fifteen-year-olds barreled through the doorway and flung themselves against him. He staggered backward, releasing Lauren’s hand as he caught his sisters in a tight embrace.
“Nick!” Tina stretched up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Nick, it’s true. You’re all right.”
“I knew you couldn’t be dead,” Barb said, laughing as she slid her arms around his waist. “I knew it.”
“We missed you so much. Barb wouldn’t stop crying—”
“Neither did Tina.”
His smile faltered. “I’m sorry. I know it must have been tough for everyone—”
“Oh, I can’t believe this,” Tina said, wiping her eyes against his shirt. “It’s like a dream. You’re really here.”
Barb wriggled out of his embrace, catching his arm to urge him inside. “Why didn’t you let anyone know before? Where have you been?”
He tipped his head toward Lauren. “I’ve been with her.”
Tina ducked under his arm, looking toward the shadows beside the doorstep. “Oh! I saw you on TV. You’re the lady who—”
“You saved Nick’s life!” Barb finished. “You dragged him out of the plane.”
To Lauren’s surprise, Tina sprang forward and caught her hands. She pulled her into the house with the kind of reckless enthusiasm typical of her brother. “You saved him,” she said, her smile radiant. “I saw you talk about it on the news.”
“Mom wanted to call you, to thank you for trying to help. Wow, and Nick was with you all along!”
“What happened, Nick?” Tina demanded. “How come everyone thought you were dead?”
Before either of them could reply, his other two sisters strode forward to join the group in the front hall. Rose’s dark eyes were bright with tears as she threw her arms around Nick. “Thank God,” she said, her voice choking with emotion. “It’s true.”
“When Mom called, I thought she’d cracked from the strain,” Juanita said, taking her turn as soon as Rose loosened her hold. “I had to come and see for myself.”
“I’m perfectly fine,” Nick said. “As long as I don’t get smothered by all this affection.”
Rose swatted his arm, then stretched to give him another kiss. “We can’t help it, Nick. When we thought you were gone—” She sniffed hard, shaking her head. “This is stupid. I cried when I thought you were dead. Now I’m doing it again because I know you’re not.”
“And she never cries,” Barb said.
“Where’s Mom?” Nick asked, looking past them. “Is she all right?”
“She’s been on the phone since I got here, trying to reach the rest of the family,” Juanita said. “I think she’s—”
“Nicholai!”
At the authoritative voice, Nick’s sisters laughed and swept him down the hallway to the living room. Lauren followed, then hung back in the doorway as Natasha Strada came forward to greet her son.
The face that had been so brittle with grief looked years younger. Tears softened the steel blue of her gaze and a smile framed by dimples stretched her hollow cheeks. “Nicholai,” she repeated, holding out her arms.
He broke away from his sisters and stepped into her embrace. “Hi, Mom.”
Her lips trembling, Natasha closed her eyes and pressed the side of her face to his. She repeated his name, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought never to hold you again,” she said. “Nico, Nico. You’re alive. Really alive.”
“I’m sorry,” Nick murmured. “Sorry for putting you through this.”
Lauren. felt a lump form in her throat as she watched the poignant reunion. Some men might be embarrassed by such an outpouring of emotion, but not Nick. No, his masculinity seemed all the more powerful as he returned his mother’s embrace.
This was a facet of him she hadn’t seen before. It was the flip side to his protectiveness, a capacity to love that was as deep and as intense as everything else about him. Yet it didn’t surprise her. The straight-ahead, blunt-talking, stubborn, determined man she’d come to know would be as honest about his emotions as he was about everything else.
She took a step back, suddenly uncomfortable, feeling like an intruder. There was so much warmth in this family, so much love. They were all so open about it, they made it look... easy.
“So what happened after the crash?” Tina asked, coming up to her before she could leave the room. “How come Nick stayed with you instead of going home?”
Nick draped his arm around his mother’s shoulders and led her over to introduce her to Lauren. Natasha looked at her for a long moment, then smiled and kissed her cheeks. She said that she, too, had seen the newscast and she thanked Lauren for saving Nick’s life.
The questions that Tina had begun escalated as the rest of Nick’s sisters demanded to know the reasons for his deception. Lauren soon found herself squeezed onto a sofa between Juanita and the twins while she helped Nick explain everything that had happened since she’d pulled him out of the lake.
Well, not everything, she thought, following Nick with her gaze as he walked back from the kitchen with a handful of chocolate chip cookies. He sat on the arm of Natasha’s chair, smiling at something Rose said before he bit into a cookie. No, Lauren didn’t mention the more disturbing things that had happened during the time they’d been together in her apartment. She didn’t say anything about the feelings that he stirred... or the way she was going to miss him.
The idea shook her more than she cared to admit. Why now? She had managed to keep her distance for more than a week. Why now, when she was about to be free of his disturbing presence, did she feel this sudden yearning to keep him?
Barb reached past her to grab the photograph album that Juanita had pulled from a shelf. Once they’d understood the reasons, Nick’s family had been quick to forgive him for the pain he’d caused them. Amid laughter and good-natured teasing, the women launched into stories of his past escapades, their love clear in every word they spoke.
From across the room Nick met Lauren’s gaze, his eyes sparkling with vitality. He watched her in silence while the conversation swirled around them and gradually his expression changed. Although he still smiled, it wasn’t a smile of amusement. His mouth curved sensuously as his gaze dropped to her lips in a look that was as intimate as a kiss.
The photograph album landed in her lap with a thud that made her jump as Tina leaned over to point out a picture of a tree house. Lauren looked down, trying to force her attention back to what Barb was saying.
It was no use. When Nick got to his feet and walked across the room to her, all she was aware of was how close he was standing. He leaned down to shut the album and pass it to Juanita, then took Lauren’s hand and pulled her gently to her feet. “Do me one last favor?” he asked, tugging her away from the sofa.
She felt his thumb move lightly over her knuckles, and awareness glowed over her skin. “What?”
“Give me a ride home?”
“Rose can do that,” Tina said. “She said she had to give you back th
e mail she picked up—oof.” She rubbed the side of her ribs and turned to glare at Juanita. “What’d you do that for?”
“I think the mail can wait,” Juanita said, winking at Rose.
Nodding, Rose dug into the pocket of her overalls, then tossed a set of keys to Nick. “Here. The landlord gave them to me, told me to clear out your stuff by the end of the month. Good thing I haven’t started yet.”
Although the goodbyes were heartfelt and lingering, Nick walked to the car with Lauren less than five minutes later. She kept her speed under the limit on the darkened streets, yet the trip to Nick’s apartment passed quickly. As she pulled to the curb and set the parking brake, she thought of what Nick had said to her outside the police station. She’d been with him at the start. She might as well stick around and see how it ends.
Oh, God. She didn’t want it to end. Not yet. It was so obvious to her, and it must have been obvious to Nick. Because without any discussion, he reached past her to shut off the engine, then got out of the car and walked around to her side and opened her door.
His apartment looked the same as it had a week ago. And yet she saw it differently, because now she knew the man who lived here. The big, comfortable furniture, the scattered papers, the photograph of his family and the stack of country music CDs... all the traces of his personality seemed familiar now, offering her a private welcome.
There was a click and the rattle of a chain as Nick locked the door. A few moments later, the plaintive strains of a saxophone drifted from the stereo. Lauren trailed her hand along the back of the sofa, tracing the ridges of chocolate brown corduroy as she watched him straighten up from the tuner. “I thought you didn’t like jazz,” she said.
He lifted his shoulders in a shrug that tightened his shirt across the broad expanse of muscle. “I suppose I’m getting used to it. When I first heard your taste in music, I was surprised, though.”
“Really? Why?”
“At first I would have guessed that you would prefer something more formal, like long-hair, classical stuff. But once I got to know you, I realized this music suited you better.”
On The Way To A Wedding Page 17
