A Forever Kind of Hero

by Marie Ferrarella

  “You can stay in the waiting room if you like. I’m sure the doctor will have someone call you if Mr. Stafford regains consciousness.”

  If.

  The word loomed before Megan. It was such a terrible word, creating an almost insurmountable chasm that separated her from Kathy.

  Megan tried to bridle her impatience.

  “Thank you,” Garrett said tersely to the administrator. Taking Megan by the arm, he pushed open the door and forcibly ushered her into the waiting area. “Okay, what’s this ‘we’ business?” he demanded in a low growl.

  Uncoupling herself from him with dignity, Megan shrugged carelessly. “I figured it would save time and a lot of useless questions if I let her think we were both with the DEA.”

  “Let her?” he echoed incredulously. “You told her you were with the DEA.”

  Tired, Megan sank down on one of the bright orange vinyl sofas. “Don’t split hairs. Besides, I figure the federal government has more clout than I do.”

  He took a seat next to her. Its misshapen cushion shifted, bringing their bodies closer than either of them intended. He felt her tense as her thigh slid against his. Garrett pretended not to notice.

  “Nice of you to recognize that. Now maybe you’ll also recognize the fact that you’re in over your head, and should leave the rest of this to professionals. In case you haven’t noticed,” he pointed out tersely, “these people play for keeps.”

  Just who did he think he was—taking that superior tone with her? He was talking to her as if she were some wide-eyed novice. Megan raised her chin, ready to put him in his place.

  “I am a professional.”

  “Plunking down a few dollars for a private investigator license, and answering a few simpleminded questions doesn’t make you a professional.”

  She should have insisted Joe be put in her car and then left this fool to find his own way off the hilltop. “Does being with the FBI for four years qualify in your book?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

  Some of the wind left his sails, though he didn’t show it. After a beat, Garrett wasn’t sure he believed her claim. “You were an FBI agent?”

  She tossed her head. “That’s ‘Special’ agent to you, and yes, I was.”

  It would be a simple enough thing to check out. “They throw you out?”

  “No,” Megan bit off. “I left.”

  “Why?” He waited to shoot her story down.

  “Too many rules.” Megan stared at him pointedly. “Too many stiff-necked bureaucrats with superior attitudes.”

  His laugh was soft. And disparaging. “Wouldn’t take much to be superior in this case.”

  She’d had just about enough of this smug agent with his tight butt, magnetic blue eyes...and annoying attitude. Megan crossed her arms before her to keep from strangling him. “I found you, I found the boy, and I found the hospital. Care to reword the last statement?”

  “No,” he said mildly, infuriating her. “I don’t. You were lucky.”

  He had to say that, she thought. His ego would suffer if he was forced to acknowledge that she was just as capable as he was. “I’d prefer to think of it as skillful.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you would.” Garrett blew out a breath, then reconsidered. Snipping at one another wasn’t going to get them anywhere. “Look, I’ll admit you’ve been helpful—”

  “Entirely against my will—”

  “I figured as much,” he cut in. “But since we both have claims to the kid, and you did get to him first, why don’t we call a truce?”

  “What are you up to?”

  He tried to keep his expression impassive. “Not a thing.”

  The verbal duel was interrupted when the resident with the too-fresh face entered the waiting room. Megan and Garrett were both on their feet by the time he reached them.

  “We’ve stabilized him for now,” the doctor said. He looked relieved and pleased—and perhaps, Garrett reevaluated, a little older than fifteen. “You got him here just in time. Another half-hour and he would have been going out in a body bag.”

  And that, Garrett acknowledged silently, had been Megan’s doing. “When can I talk to him?”

  The doctor shook his head. “He’s still unconscious. There’s no telling for how long.” He looked from one to the other, his intentions kindly. “I suggest you come back in the morning.”

  “Not an option,” Garrett answered.

  “We’re here for the duration,” Megan put in.

  The doctor nodded at the sagging sofa. “Then make yourselves comfortable.” He glanced at the oversize clock on the wall. “The cafeteria’s still open, but you might be better off with the vending machines down the hall. They have soft drinks and coffee that won’t take paint off the side of a house.” He was already withdrawing. “I’ll let you know if there’s any change.”

  Megan murmured her thanks as she dug into her pocket for change.

  Far from satisfied, Garrett looked at her. The outline of her jeans strained against her body as she rummaged in her pocket. He focused his mind on the immediate problem. “We don’t both have to stay, you know.”

  Her eyes met his. “Yeah, we do. Don’t let the hair color fool you, Wichita. I’m not dumb enough to think you’ll let me know anything.”

  He made no comment. He didn’t have to. They both knew she was right. He took out a couple of dollars. “Want some coffee?”

  She stopped rummaging. “A peace offering? Sure, why not? I’ve got a cast-iron stomach.” She sighed, following him down the hall. The vending machines stood side by side, housed in a small alcove. “It looks like it’s going to be a long night.”

  At least they agreed on something, Garrett thought, slipping the first dollar into the slot.

  Chapter 7

  “I’ve found Joe Stafford.”

  Shifting hands, Megan put the telephone receiver against her other ear and turned in the hall so that her back was to Garrett. She didn’t particularly like having an audience while she made her phone call, but he was making no effort to give her any privacy.

  The man had a long way to go in brushing up on his social skills, she thought darkly.

  On the other end of the line, she heard Judith Teasdale’s sharp intake of breath.

  “Is Kathy with him? Can I talk to her?”

  The hopeful note in the woman’s voice made Megan’s heart ache—for both Kathy’s parents and for Kathy as well. Try as she might to be angry at the girl for making her family go through this, she couldn’t summon the emotion. She knew that by now, the girl had more than paid for her rash actions. Megan could feel nothing but pity for the teenager whose picture she carried in her wallet.

  “Kathy’s not with him, Mrs. Teasdale.”

  “Where is she? Can’t you make him tell you?”

  “I wish I could.” She sighed, feeling so helpless that she couldn’t stand it. “Joe’s been in an accident. He was unconscious when we found him,” she hurried to add, trying to avoid any questions. “And we’ve taken him to the hospital.”

  “We?” Judith asked uncertainly.

  “Yes. The DEA agent who came to see you yesterday is here at the hospital with me.” Megan could just sense the smile curving along Wichita’s lips; she didn’t have to look over her shoulder to confirm it. “It seems that our paths crossed again.”

  “Where is he?” Judith wanted to know, her voice rising. “Where’s the monster who made my baby run away? Can I see him?”

  “Not easily. He’s in Scottsdale. The doctors are working on him now, and he still hasn’t come around. Why don’t you just let me—”

  Suddenly, Warren was on the line as well. She’d had a feeling he couldn’t be far from the phone when it rang. They were the kind of people who kept vigils. For them, life had stopped the moment Kathy had slipped out of the house.

  “Is that DEA agent looking for Kathy, too?” Megan could hear the barely controlled fear in his voice. “Level with us, Miss Andreini. What kind of danger is our little g
irl in?”

  Megan bit her lower lip. God help me for lying, she thought. But right now, in order to stay sane, the Teasdales needed to be lied to.

  “No more than any other runaway.” She made the answer as sincere-sounding as she could. “There’s nothing more to tell you right now. I just wanted you to know where I was and what was happening”

  “Yes.” The word was tight with unspoken emotions. “Thank you for calling in,” Warren murmured.

  “Please,” Judith begged.

  She didn’t have to say anymore. Megan understood. “I’ll be in touch when I have anything else, Mrs. Teasdale. And I’ll find her.” It was a promise.

  She didn’t bother turning around as she plunked in more coins, tapped out a long-distance number and then listened to the metallic recording tell her how much more was needed. There was probably a judgmental look on Wichita’s face—or a superior one. In either case, she didn’t want to see it.

  The added coins made a melodic sound as they rained down through the slot.

  The receiver on the other end picked up on the third ring. She waited to see if the greeting came from a human voice or an answering machine.

  It was the machine.

  She hated talking to machines. Where was her brother? His last class was over, and he had a major paper due. Why wasn’t he home, working on it? A tiny shoot of fear pushed through. Megan hoped there was nothing wrong.

  “Rusty, it’s Megan. I’m in Scottsdale. Don’t know how long I’ll be here. Look in on Mom for me tonight, will you? See if she needs anything. You know how she gets.” Suppressing a sigh that would give away just how weary she felt at the moment, Megan ended the message. “I’ll call you when I can. Oh, and I hope your term paper’s going well—which it would be if you were home right now, working on it. Bye.”

  Her calls finished, she hung up and turned around. Garrett was watching her, just the way she figured he would be. Actually, it was more like studying her. Or maybe dissecting her would be a more accurate description, she thought. Annoyance scrambled up through her on tiny, pointy feet.

  “Bossing people around come naturally to you?”

  Bone-tired, Megan felt the edges of her temper fraying. “He was supposed to be home, writing his paper. It’s due next Monday.”

  Amusement mingled with curiosity. “How old is he?”

  She knew what Wichita was implying. “Twenty-two. And sometimes, everyone needs to be prodded.” She spared him an accusing look. “Don’t you have anything better to do than hang around and eavesdrop?”

  Leaning against a wall, Garrett straightened as she pushed passed him and headed back to her seat with a container of now-lukewarm coffee.

  Turning to follow, he pretended to think, then shook his head. “None that I can think of.”

  Actually, he amended mentally, his eyes drawn to the subtle, unconscious sway of her hips as she walked away from him, that wasn’t entirely true. He could think of something a whole lot more satisfying than listening to one side of a conversation. The way he saw it, the crackle of electricity humming between them would have lit up Ben Franklin’s heart, not to mention his kite.

  Garrett waited until she sat down, then took a seat in the chair adjacent to the sofa. It was easier on him than sitting next to her and having their limbs touch from time to time. “Is Rusty your brother?”

  “Why?”

  The protective look in her eyes intrigued him. Why did she need to feel so defensive? It seemed an innocent enough question.

  Draping his arms over the edges of the chair, Garrett shrugged nonchalantly. “Just passing the time. The magazines are old, and I’ve already heard the news three times.”

  To underscore his point, he indicated with his eyes the mounted television set over in the corner. The channel was set to a local all-news station that, while entertaining at first, had gotten irritatingly repetitive. It was a slow news evening.

  Megan paused before answering, as if weighing the wisdom of saying anything remotely personal to this man. The coffee was worse than lukewarm: it was cold. And bad. She drank it anyway, needing the caffeine.

  “Yes, Rusty’s my brother.”

  Maybe it was just his intrusion she resented, rather than something she felt that she had to guard, Garrett guessed. Nodding at the scrap of information, he looked out the window.

  Everything seemed dead outside, blanketed in darkness so that he was only able to see out a few feet. Inside, they were the only two people in the waiting area. Apparently the news wasn’t the only thing that was slow tonight. The ER was as empty as a tomb.

  He looked in her direction again. What made a woman like her tick? One minute she was sexy; the next, stand-offish. And all the while, there was this go-to-hell independence that throbbed just beneath.

  And what was beneath that? he wondered.

  “Got any other siblings?”

  Why all these questions? Megan wondered. “Another brother.” Her eyes locked with his. If he could ask, so could she. “You?”

  “No.”

  He said it with such finality that she felt chills along her spine. His tone posted a ten-foot sign in front of him, warning off trespassers. But if that’s what he wanted, he shouldn’t have asked her any questions.

  “Only child?” She watched his expression, waiting for a response.

  His face betrayed nothing. “Yeah. Now.”

  For a charmer, he’d suddenly become as communicative as a tree.

  All right, Megan thought. She could respect privacy, even if he couldn’t. For now, she left his personal life alone.

  Restless, she got up and threw away the empty paper container in the trash, then looked accusingly at the double doors that led into the ER treatment room. The doctor hadn’t come out to see them since he’d initially talked to them more than two hours ago. She stared, willing the doors to open.

  Nothing.

  “What’s keeping him?”

  Waiting was all part of the game to Garrett. He’d schooled himself to be patient. “Probably has nothing to say.” He toyed with the idea of asking his next question, then decided to go ahead. “Why did you lie to them?”

  The question came out of nowhere. Megan turned around to look at him. “Who?”

  Garrett pointed in the general direction of the telephones. “The Teasdales. It wasn’t hard making out their side of the conversation. Why didn’t you tell them that Stafford ODed on drugs that had probably been pumped into him? Why tell them the kid was in an accident?”

  He probably wouldn’t understand, but she told him anyway. “Because they’re a nice couple, heretofore living a nice life. They’re not made to handle things like drugs and dealers and overdosing. I don’t want to make them worry any more than they already are.”

  Garret shook his head and laughed. She thought he was laughing at her, until he said, “‘Heretofore’? Who the hell says ‘heretofore’?”

  “I do,” she answered crisply. Her eyes narrowed as she pinned him to his chair. “Some of us like building our communication skills instead of just grunting like primal creatures.”

  “I strike you as a primal creature?” The thought amused him. It was not without its own implications.

  Megan nodded. “Just barely upright.” Her mouth quirked as she tried to suppress a smile. Then she laughed softly, shaking her head when he looked at her quizzically. “Must be the pace,” she decided. “I feel like I’m getting giddy.”

  Leaning back in the chair, his eyes swept over her face. “Whatever it is, you look better when you smile.” When unguarded, there was a sweet innocence to her smile that he knew she wouldn’t appreciate his mentioning.

  Getting to his feet, he started toward the vending machines again. There was nothing else to do right now. “Want another cup of coffee?”

  “Only if I want to gain access to the ER from the other side and have my stomach pumped,” Megan said, following him. “That was foul.”

  “Yeah, it was,” he agreed amiably. Garret
t pulled out a handful of change from his pocket. The bills he had left were all larger denominations than the machine was prepared to take. “I can spring for a candy bar.” He had just enough for two. “How about it?”

  Instead of answering, she pointed to a selection, then glanced at him, as if suspecting a motive. “Why are you being so nice?”

  He fed the machine, then pressed the numbers indicated beneath the selection.

  “Just my true nature.” A curled metal rod pushed out a candy bar filled with peanuts, then withdrew. The candy bar plunged to the bottom of the machine and waited to be rescued. Garrett pushed aside the glass, plucked it out, then offered it to Megan. “Why are you being so suspicious?”

  With a nod of thanks, she took the candy bar from him. “Because I spent a lot of time around government agents and their ‘real’ true nature.”

  He fed more coins into the machine and made a second selection. Nothing happened. “Which is?”

  He tapped the numbers out again, but the candy remained where it was. “Do anything you have to in order to bring the case to a close.” Elbowing him aside, she positioned her hand at an angle, then struck the front of the machine with it. The coil around the candy bar retracted, and the candy fell. “That means lie, twist things and ignore people in your way.”

  He fished out his dinner, then tore open one side. The woman was definitely handy to have around. “Sounds cold.”

  “It is. And you know it.” Megan led the way back to the waiting room. The doctor was nowhere in sight. Resigned, she looked at Garrett. “Tell me what else you know.”

  He tore back a little more of the wrapper, then bit into the chewy offering. “Alphabetically or chronologically?”

  “Just about Kathy,” she said, not sounding as annoyed as she had earlier.

  There, he could afford to be honest with her. “You have the sum total already. I saw her on the surveillance tape, ran her face through the files on the various web sites for missing kids, and came up with a match.” He didn’t bother sitting down. “Any lead in a storm.”