Hero for Hire

by Marie Ferrarella

  The part of her that had always been reserved couldn't believe what had happened last night.

  Couldn't believe that she had made love with a man she hardly knew.

  But another part of her, the more recessed, sensitive part, felt as if she had known him forever. As if she had been waiting for him forever. Waiting for a man who could take care of her. Who made love with wild, passionate abandonment. To her, not her name, not her money, but to her.

  Had she really found him? Had he somehow managed to wander in and find her amid all this chaos going on around her?

  It was too soon, too early for answers. Only questions. Pulling the sheet to her, Veronica sat up. Her hair cascaded in uncombed waves around her shoulders. She glanced to where the clock usually was. The space was empty. Vaguely she remembered accidentally flinging out her hand and hitting it during a crucial moment. It had toppled over and was probably somewhere under the bed.

  "What time is it?" she asked.

  His back to her, Chad raised his head. He'd been hoping to make it out of the room before she woke up. It would have been easier that way.

  He turned to face her, not knowing what he would see in her eyes. Recrimination? Denial? Anger? She was entitled to all of those and more. Conduct Unbecoming—that was what they would have labeled it if he'd still been in law enforcement. He'd taken advantage of her last night, of her vulnerability and of whatever it was that felt lacking within himself.

  But dawn brought reason in tow.

  And reason brought guilt with it. The excuses he'd given himself had trouble holding up in the light of day.

  Guilt or not, he wanted her again. The sun was dancing along her tousled hair, grazing her exposed skin. Sleep was still outlining her eyes, and if he looked, he could see the swell of her breasts against the thin sheet. The outline of her leg tempted him to reach out and touch her again, the way he had last night. To caress what had been his for a blink of an eye. What couldn't be his in the day-to-day world they occupied.

  Just looking at her made his mouth go dry.

  So Chad looked away, pretending to cast his gaze around for his shoes. "Almost seven o'clock. Your housekeeper will be here soon."

  She knew what time Angela arrived. Was he getting up because he didn't want to be caught in bed with her? Or was it her reputation he was concerned about? The thought brought a sweetness in its wake. For all his tough exterior, the man was old-fashioned. But then, his manners had hinted at that.

  "Angela has her own key," she told him softly.

  "My point exactly." Rising, he stepped into his shoes. "You don't want her coming up here and finding you with me."

  Her private life had always been that, as private as she could keep it. And though she cared about Angela and regarded her as something more than just a housekeeper, she wouldn't have openly flaunted this before the woman. Still, there was something in Chad's tone that caught her attention. She could feel her spine tensing.

  "Why?"

  He looked at her face, purposely keeping his eyes from the rest of her. "Because I'm the 'hired help.' "

  It was her reputation he was worried about. She was touched.

  Rising to her knees, Veronica reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand. "You're not the hired help, Chad. You're a kind, giving man who tried to help me make it through the night." Her words echoed back to her, and she realized how he would interpret them. That last night had been a one-night stand, born of desperation. "And it wasn't a panic attack last night, Chad. It wasn't a choice between you and a tranquilizer." The expression in his eyes told her she'd guessed his reaction correctly. Her mouth curved into a smile. "Although the final effect was probably pretty close. I never, ever do what I don't want to."

  Tucking the sheet around her, she looked at him intently. Her gaze held his.

  "Know this," she said. "I'm not holding you to a single thing, but for me, last night was very special."

  He wanted to tell her that it had been the same for him. That what he had experienced last night had never come his way before. That he had felt something he had never thought he would.

  But the words refused to come to his lips. Because if they did, he would be tempted to think that there could be something between them. And there couldn't. Not because of who she was but because of what he was. A man whose past had such a grip on his present that it refused to allow him to feel things normal men did. Refused to allow him to have the normal life other men had. If something more was allowed to grow between them, she would be the victim here. And he had been hired to keep her from being a victim of any kind.

  Even his victim.

  So, instead, he looked away again and crossed to the door. "You'd better get dressed," he told her quietly. "Mind if I use the guest-room shower?"

  The guest room. So he could keep distance between them. She nodded, accepting his choice. "Go right ahead. Your things are already in there."

  She bit her lower lip as she heard the door open and then close. Behind him.

  When Chad came down to the kitchen, Veronica was already there, dressed and ready to face a day that had everything riding on it.

  Angela glanced up at him the moment he crossed the threshold. She looked disgusted, and for a moment he thought that perhaps the woman had somehow divined the connection he and Veronica had made during the long night.

  But Angela merely gestured at the table with its offerings.

  "Maybe you can make her eat," she declared. "She's not touching anything again."

  "Have the juice." There was no nonsense in his voice as he pushed the glass in front of Veronica. "I can't have you light-headed."

  Her emotions in a jumble, Veronica sat contemplating the full glass for a moment, then picked it up and forced the juice down. He was right. She needed something in her system. She felt her stomach tighten in anticipation as the juice went down.

  A little like her last night, she thought. But that was last night and today was today.

  He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he jotted down notes to himself. "Now the toast." He pushed another plate toward her.

  Veronica made no effort to pick up a piece. "Quit while you're ahead."

  His eyes met hers. "I intend to." He glanced toward her plate. "But not about this."

  Because Angela was there, she wasn't free to say what she wanted to.

  "I have to make a couple of calls," he told her, taking out his cell phone and slipping off the stool. "When I get back, I want to see that gone." He pointed to her plate, then stepped out into the atrium to make his calls in private.

  She stared at him through the glass, then picked up a piece of toast and slowly began to eat.

  Chapter 13

  Despite the constant drone of noise around her, Veronica could hear the sound of her heels as they made contact with the depot floor. She walked quickly beside Chad, looking about, wondering if the kidnapper was here somewhere, watching her.

  She saw a child and her heart stopped. But it wasn't Casey. It was someone else's child, tugging on his mother's hand. A sense of longing mixed with envy filled her.

  Was he here yet? Was her son here somewhere, being held on to by the man who had kidnapped him?

  The pounding in her head increased as she scanned the area.

  The Amtrak station still had the pristine feel to it that new buildings had. Given the number of commuters milling around, it seemed like an incredible feat. What struck her most was the brightness of the place. There were no sinister shadows where a kidnapper could be lurking, no dark, underground tunnels where he could quickly escape, eluding them. Everything was out in the open, illuminated either by the sun pouring in through an immense skylight or the panels of fluorescent lights artfully placed around the large facility. It would have been a place she'd have picked for the exchange. That the kidnapper had selected it made her wonder.

  And gave her hope.

  The lockers were near the far entrance. The second she saw them, Veronica hooked her a
rm through Chad's and pulled him over.

  "I see them," he told her needlessly. The number the kidnapper had specified was located exactly in the middle, as if to taunt them. "The good thing about it," Chad told her as they reached the lockers, "is that there's no way anyone can come and take the briefcase out without our seeing them. Got the key?"

  Veronica handed it to him and he inserted it into the lock. It fit. "But what if we miss him somehow?"

  Chad opened the door. "There's no way we could all miss him."

  "All?"

  He'd taken care of matters while she was getting ready—while trying to erase images of her and last night from his head. He'd been far more successful with the former than the latter.

  "I've got people planted here." He gave her a reassuring look before lifting the briefcase and placing it into the double locker. "The agency doesn't like leaving things to chance—or taking the word of a kidnapper."

  So there were other people on their side here. Could she pick them out? Veronica scanned the immediate vicinity a second time with no more enlightenment than the first time. Everyone looked innocent. Everyone looked like a suspect.

  Chad closed the door and turned the key, then returned it to Veronica. "Now we wait."

  Veronica stared at the locker. So near and yet so far. She didn't know if she could take much more. "We wait," she repeated.

  They were early. He had to get her mind occupied somehow. Chad glanced over his shoulder. There was a small coffee shop next to a magazine stand.

  There were tables for two scattered in front of the shop. Sitting there, they'd have a clear view of the locker—and anyone who came by to open it. There was no point in hiding. The kidnapper had said that Casey would be brought to the station and released once the money was secure.

  Everything that had ever gone into making him a good cop told him this was far too easy.

  Taking her arm, Chad indicated the tables.

  "Want some coffee?" She began to shake her head. "Casey'll be able to see you from over there," he pointed out.

  She blinked as the words penetrated. "Sure. Coffee."

  The thought of coffee made her stomach lurch, but holding the cup would give her something to do, and it was an excuse to sit at a table.

  Where Casey could see her. She held on to the thought like a good-luck charm.

  "I'll be right back," Chad promised, giving her arm a squeeze. "Get a table."

  She nodded, moving like a zombie. Her eyes never left the lockers. That the other tables were empty, save for one occupant, registered only peripherally. She took a seat at a table that could be judged to be an inch or two closer to the bank of lockers than the others.

  Chad emerged from the shop less than five minutes later, holding two large containers of coffee and balancing a glazed confection of some sort that almost slid off the plate as he set it down.

  "For energy," he told her, though she hadn't asked. "Take a piece."

  "Maybe later."

  Her fingers were cold as he pushed the coffee toward her. Chad covered her hand with his.

  She raised her eyes to his, seeking strength. He seemed so calm, so in control, while she felt as if she was going to fall to pieces again. How many times would she coast down this slope before the ordeal was finally over? Would it ever be over? The past couple of days had felt like an eternity.

  "Do you think he'll really come?"

  That part seemed straightforward enough. The tricky part was going to be catching their man. "He will if he wants the money." He felt her fingers curl into her hand beneath his. Chad had no doubt she was digging her nails in. "I won't insult you by telling you to relax, but maybe you should try to breathe a bit more deeply and evenly."

  The suggestion brought a silent smile to her lips, which was all that he'd been after. Settling back to wait, Chad stretched out his legs, seeming not to have a care in the world. But one look into his eyes said otherwise.

  He brought the cup to his lips, his eyes never straying from his target.

  The exchange was to have been made at noon. The minutes dragged by, even as people hurried by them in both directions. The only time Veronica moved was to shift for a better view of the locker when someone momentarily blocked it.

  People had come and gone within the busy station, but not a single one had approached the locker with the money in it. The knot in her stomach tightened.

  By twelve-fifty she knew something had gone horribly wrong.

  For the first time she spared a look at Chad. "Maybe he's changed his mind." The words, the insecurities began to tumble out faster and faster. "Maybe he's afraid to come because he thinks we've set a trap." A worse possibility occurred to her. "Or maybe something's happened to him and Casey."

  Unable to stand the direction her thoughts were taking, Veronica covered her mouth with her hands to keep the wave of hysteria back. She couldn't fall apart now, she couldn't.

  "Stop it." A vein of kindness ran beneath the gruff command. Veronica looked at him again, dropping her hands to her lap. "You'll make yourself crazy."

  But he couldn't dispute that something was definitely not right. It hadn't felt right since one minute after twelve. Maybe before. Though he had watched the locker the entire time and knew that Rusty and Sam were covering both ends of the terminal, Chad couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something had gone awry. The kidnapper hadn't shown up, but he didn't think it was for any of the reasons Veronica had come up with.

  Instinct told him that the kidnapper wouldn't just walk away from the money.

  He rose to his feet. Veronica stared at him. "Where are you going?"

  "To check out a hunch." He crossed quickly to the bank of lockers with Veronica hurrying beside him.

  "What kind of hunch?"

  He didn't answer. Instead, he asked her for the key.

  "Why? No one opened the locker. I was watching the whole time." But she handed it to him.

  "So was I, but I just want to make sure." He opened the door. And found the locker completely empty. Part of him had been expecting it, yet it seemed impossible. "How the hell…?"

  Veronica moved him aside to look for herself. There was nothing to see.

  "Where is it?" she demanded. Frustration and confusion rang in her voice. She'd been watching the entire time. How had anyone gotten past her? "I didn't see anyone open it." She looked at Chad. "Did you?"

  "No." Taking out his cell phone, Chad pressed the single number that got him in touch with both men in the terminal. "The money's gone."

  Within seconds Rusty and Sam converged from opposite ends of the station. One look at their stunned expressions told Chad that neither of them had seen anyone approach the lockers, either.

  Chad stared into the lockers. "Damn it, the guy's not a magician. The briefcase can't just disappear. Where is it?" As he began to swing the door closed in disgust, throwing the empty locker into darkness, something caught his eye. There was a pinprick of light squeezing in at the rear base of the locker. He looked at Sam. "What's behind this locker?"

  "Another bank of lockers," Sam told him.

  The answer was so simple he could have kicked himself. He'd seen the other wall of lockers when he'd first walked in.

  Silently calling himself an idiot, Chad hurried around to the other side. The door of the locker behind the one they'd been watching wasn't completely closed. As if someone had pushed it into place but hadn't bothered to make sure it had closed all the way. At first glance, it appeared to be identical to the one that had contained the briefcase.

  "Just another empty locker," Rusty told his brother.

  "You still have that Swiss Army knife I gave you for your twelfth birthday?" Chad asked. The beaten-up knife, which Chad had found, had been one of Rusty's prized possessions when he'd been growing up.

  Rusty dug into his pocket. "Never without it." He handed it to Chad.

  Quickly Chad ran the length of it along the back wall. The barrier gave way. Chad swore, closing the knife. "E
very magic trick has a secret. We were all watching the front because that's where he told us to watch. Nobody bothered watching the other set of lockers. The kidnapper must have gotten in here earlier, rented this locker and weakened the wall just enough to be able to remove it and grab the briefcase. Perfect setup."

  He was explaining the mechanics, only Veronica didn't care about the mechanics. She wanted her son. "But where's Casey? Oh, God, Chad, where's Casey?"

  As if in response, Chad's cell phone rang.

  He pulled it out immediately, not sure what to expect or hope for. The caller could even be the kidnapper. The man was certainly resourceful enough. "Maybe we'll find out now."

  But instead of a tinny sound, it was Megan's voice on the other end of the line. "Chad, I just intercepted a 911 call on Ben's shortwave."

  Megan wouldn't be telling him this if it wasn't somehow related to the case. Chad purposely avoided looking at Veronica. "About?"

  "The call came in from Neil Reinholt's apartment. He's been shot. I know he's on your suspect list, so I went there and arrived just as the paramedics were taking him to the hospital. He was barely conscious, but he was trying to get someone to listen to him. I heard him say 'Casey,' but he lost consciousness before he could say anything more. It could be he was worried about the boy, but I think it was something more."

  "Damn." Had someone wanted Neil out of the way? Or had it just been one of his shady creditors out for blood?

  Veronica felt as if she was going to leap out of her skin at any second. Hearing Chad swear sent her over the edge. "What is it? Chad, tell me. What is it? Is it about Casey?"

  "I'm not sure."

  He was about to break the connection when his sister called, "Chad, wait!"

  "Neil's been shot," he told Veronica as he brought the phone to his ear again. "Hello?"

  "There might be more. I don't know if this is anything, but you know Neil's girlfriend, Josephine?"

  Those hairs were standing up at the back of his neck again. "What about her?"