by Debbie Mason
He did as she suggested, watching as she walked back to the window. This time he heard a boat’s motor. So, apparently, did the men downstairs. She dipped her chin to her chest. “ETA five minutes.” Then turned to him. “Hurry, get your shoes on.”
“Do you want to tell me why you keep talking to your chest?”
“No time. You have to get out of here.” She crouched to help him with his shoes.
“How exactly am I going to do that? Are you planning to shoot our way out?”
“No, you’re going out the window. I’ll distract them. Here.” She pulled keys from her jacket pocket and tucked them in the inside pocket of his suit. She patted his chest. “Don’t wreck my car. I’ll be coming for her.”
“I’m not leaving without you. Shay, dammit, would you just listen to me?” he said when she walked back to the far corner in the room. She ignored him, returning with a rope ladder in her hands. She shrugged at his raised eyebrow. “Guess they had it in case of a fire. It’s a long way down.”
She came to stand in front of him and brought her hand to the side of his face, looking in his eyes. “Thank you for trying to save me. You’re a good man, Michael Gallagher.” She lifted onto her tiptoes and gently pressed her mouth to his. “Now let’s get you out of here.”
Chapter Four
At the sound of a muffled pop, Michael’s fingers tightened on the ladder. The wind buffeted the side of the building, causing the rope ladder to sway. It was dark, and he could hear the water slapping against the stone footings beneath him. Around the other side of the building he heard the boat’s motor cut out and the sound of men’s voices. Then he heard Shay quietly calling directions to Eric and Jimmy. He bowed his head, relieved that she was all right. But anger took hold at the thought that she was going through with it and that she must have killed Keller to do so.
If she got caught, she’d never see the light of day. Nothing he could offer in her defense would change that. She was truly lost to both him and Charlie now. With a heavy heart, Michael made his way down the ladder. When he reached the narrow ledge, he pulled the gun Shay had given him from his pocket. For a brief moment, he considered his options. Confronting the drug dealers wasn’t one of them. Without backup, he was outmanned and outgunned. He’d be stupid to try. And Michael wasn’t stupid. Although his relationships with Bethany and Shay said otherwise.
He pressed his back against the building and inched his way along the ledge. It sounded like the boat had docked; a hum of conversation floated over the water. He needed to get out of there and to the police before they had a chance to escape. Shay had made her choice. She had to know what he’d do. His head pounded as he made a run for her car, glad of his dark hair and dark clothing. Although if they looked hard enough, they’d see him. The moon and stars lit up the night sky.
He pressed the lock button on Shay’s key fob. The beep sounded overly loud, and his heart pounded along with his head. Michael slid into the car, put the key in the ignition, and turned it to the On position then shifted the gear into neutral. He got out and moved around to the front of the car, searching the shadows as he did. He wouldn’t be caught unawares again. It sounded like they were moving toward the building Michael had just escaped from.
He pocketed the gun and pushed the car as far down the road as he could before his arms started to shake and his lungs burned. To hell with it, he knew what the Challenger had under its hood. They wouldn’t catch him once he got behind the wheel. And there wasn’t time to waste.
As Michael slid into the driver’s seat, he caught movement to his left behind the Dumpster and then to his right behind a stand of trees. He turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared to life. With a hard press to the gas, he tore down the gravel drive, barely slowing down to turn onto the main road. And that’s when he saw the long line of dark vehicles—cops, SWAT, DEA.
He pulled to the opposite shoulder. At the very least, he had to ensure that Shay made it out of this alive.
Two cops in riot gear approached him before he got out of the car. “Get out of here,” one of them said, jerking a thumb at the road.
“No, you don’t understand. I’m an ADA with Suffolk County. There’s a woman, Shay Angel, she’s…an informant. I want her put in witness protection.”
The cops shared a look, and the taller of the two said, “What’s your name?”
“Michael Gallagher. Let me talk to whoever’s in—” he broke off at the sound of gunfire, and then all hell broke loose.
Two hours later, Michael sat outside Chief Benson’s door at the Harmony Harbor Police Department. If anyone would tell him what was going on, it would be Benson. He knew the man and HHPD had been part of the joint task force. But so far no one would update Michael on Shay’s whereabouts. They’d brought Eric and Jimmy in twenty minutes ago. Keller, from what little he’d overheard, had been transported to the hospital with both shoulder and leg wounds, as well as a head injury.
Michael straightened as the door to Chief Benson’s office opened. “You’re still here? It’s Christmas Eve, son. Your family’s been worried about you.”
It was one in the morning, officially Christmas Day. He’d missed his cousin’s wedding and didn’t feel much like celebrating the holidays anyway. “I’m not leaving until I know what’s happened to Shay.”
The man rubbed his jaw, his eyes flicking beyond Michael before coming back to him. “She’s in the DEA’s custody.” Benson held up his hand when Michael opened his mouth to ask for more information. “That’s all I can tell you. Talk to Aidan. He’ll tell you what you want to know. Now go home.”
Michael walked past a couple of drunks dressed as Santa as he left the station and thought of Charlie. Not exactly the kind of news you want to break to an old man on Christmas Day. Or any other time for that matter. It just seemed worse during the holidays.
He unlocked the Challenger and slid behind the wheel. He rested his head against the seat. The scent of wildflowers drifted past his nose and made him think of Shay. He muttered a curse and closed his eyes.
“Having a bad night, Gallagher?” an amused, feminine voice said from the backseat.
His eyes shot open and met Shay’s in the rearview mirror.
“Don’t turn around. Just drive to the town square,” she said.
By doing as she asked, he’d be aiding and abetting a wanted felon. While part of him, the man who’d once loved her, wanted to help her escape, he couldn’t do it. As though she sensed the battle raging inside him, she smiled and held up a Five-seveN semiautomatic. “I’m not asking.”
“You wouldn’t shoot me,” he said, even as he backed out of the parking lot.
“No, but no one else knows that. How’s your head?” she asked conversationally.
He turned onto Main Street and glanced in the rearview mirror. “After what went down tonight, you’re asking me about my head?” He gave it a slight shake. “It’s fine, thank you. How’s your—” He broke off at the sight of his cousin’s Jeep parked on the other side of the town square. Still wearing their tuxes, Aidan and Griffin leaned against the vehicle. “We have a problem,” Michael said, pulling to the side of the road.
“Relax. I—”
“Really? Are you forgetting who my cousin is?” His eyes narrowed at her in the rearview mirror. “I won’t let you hurt them. I have a gun, Shay,” he said as Aidan and Griffin started across the road.
“Even if you could get the jump on me, which you couldn’t, you and I both know you wouldn’t shoot me, Michael.”
He clenched his jaw and opened the door to call out to his cousins, “I’ll be right there.” He turned to Shay. “Get out of here. I’ll distract them.” He thought of her out there alone and on the run. “Look, I don’t have much cash on me…” She’d know that since he’d shared his entire tale of woe with everyone at the bar the other night. “But here”—he dug Bethany’s engagement ring from his suit pocket and handed it to her. “Don’t take anything less than fifty grand.�
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She opened the passenger side door, lifting the ring to the overhead light to examine it. Her eyebrows rose. “Harry Winston Belle, two carats.” She winked at him, pocketed the ring, and got out of the car. “I won’t take less than a hundred.”
Jesus, was she a jewel thief too? Before he had a chance to say anything, his cousins approached the car. Michael’s heart raced as he tried to come up with a way to…
“I thought you’d be long gone, Shay,” Aidan said.
“Look, Aidan, she—” Michael began, unsure how to play it. Unsure if he should. Unsure if he even wanted to.
“I had something I needed to do.” She glanced at Michael and smiled. “Do you remember asking why I kept talking into my chest?”
He nodded, afraid he knew exactly what she was going to say. She’d made a bigger fool of him than Bethany had.
“I was wired.”
“In exchange for what?” Michael gritted out.
Aidan grimaced. “Maybe we should give you two a minute. Mike, we’ll wait for you in the car. Good job tonight, Shay. We got Wallace.”
“Thanks. Glad to hear it.” She looked at Michael. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t risk being overheard. I tried to tell you just before—”
“You’re DEA?”
“Independent contractor. They brought me in because I knew some of the players from back in the day. I’m a private investigator.”
“So you’re one of the good guys now.”
She moved her head from side to side. “I don’t know if I’d go that far.” She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of laughter down the street. “I better get out of here before someone blows my cover. It was good to see you, Michael. Take care of yourself,” she said, moving to the driver’s door.
He stopped her with a hand on her arm. She turned and looked up at him. “I’m not thrilled that you kept me in the dark, Shay. But I’m proud of you. Your time in prison could have turned you into the woman I thought you were tonight. Instead, you’re, well, you’re pretty amazing. You got your wings, Angel.”
Michael’s Christmas Day wasn’t much of an improvement over his Christmas Eve. He’d gone to his condo in the hopes of getting Atticus back, either by threatening or paying off Bethany. She wasn’t there, and from the sounds of it, neither was his dog. Atticus would have responded to Michael’s voice and incessant knocking. If Bethany had been there, she would have called the police.
Which her douche-bag attorney did when Michael showed up at his house and threatened him. Michael had known the cops who’d arrived on the scene, and they’d let him off with a warning.
Bethany’s father didn’t bother calling the cops. When Michael landed on the Adams’s doorstep, Bethany’s father opened the door and punched Michael in the stomach. The welcome wasn’t much warmer at his parents’ house. His mother started yelling at him as soon as Michael crossed the threshold, and his dad suggested he give her a few days.
Night was falling when Michael reached Greystone Manor. He grabbed his suitcase from the backseat. The doorman at his building had been holding it for him at the front desk. It was the only positive of the day. He had clothes—not all of them, but some was better than none. Activating the lock on his cousin’s Jeep, Michael headed up the walkway. The doors to the manor opened before he reached them. Unconsciously he jerked back as though expecting a blow. Not surprising after the day he’d had.
“Master Michael, there’s a call for you,” Jasper said, taking Michael’s suitcase from him when he reached the entryway. “The woman says it’s urgent she speak with you. You can take the call in the study.”
Michael prayed it was his housekeeper, Carmen. She’d been the one person he couldn’t reach. He ran down the hall to the study. “Carmen?” he said as soon as he picked up the phone.
“Shay. Meet me at the Village Green in fifteen minutes.”
She hung up before he had a chance to speak. Afraid her cover had been blown and she was in trouble, Michael made it across town in ten minutes. He and Shay used to meet here at the bandstand with its ornate railings and red roof. He scanned the trees that bordered the Green, searching for Shay as he walked toward the bandstand that had been decorated with white lights. He considered calling out, but worried he’d give her position away if he did. Cocking his head, he listened for her. All he heard was traffic on the surrounding streets, the sound of the church bells. Then he heard the low rumble of the Challenger.
A car door slammed, and a dog barked. It sounded like…He gave his head a slight shake. No, couldn’t be. He was imagining…Atticus, wearing a big red bow around his neck, broke away from Shay and raced across the snow-covered Green toward Michael. He crouched and opened his arms. “Hey, boy. Come here, buddy. I’ve missed you.” The wolfhound nearly bowled him over, slathering his face with doggy kisses. Michael wrapped his arms around Atticus’s neck as he watched Shay approach. She gave both him and his dog a soft smile.
“I don’t want to know how you did it or what you did, but I can’t thank you enough for bringing him back to me, Shay,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion.
She shrugged. “You missed your cousin’s wedding and Christmas Eve with your family because of me, so it’s the least I could do. Besides, he’s your dog, not hers.” She crouched beside Atticus and scratched him behind the ears. Atticus rewarded her with a couple of doggy kisses then flopped onto his back. She laughed and rubbed his belly.
“Looks like you made a friend,” Michael said, unable to take his eyes off her and his dog.
“We’ve had a long day together, haven’t we, buddy?” She met Michael’s questioning gaze and reached inside her leather jacket to pull out a bulky yellow envelope. “The other night at the bar you mentioned your ex’s lawyer and her father might give you some trouble. I did some digging. The information in those files should put an end to it.”
Stunned, he stared at the envelope she’d thrust into his hands then lifted his gaze to her. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Merry Christmas works for—”
He reached out and curved his hand around her neck, pulling her against him. “I was thinking more on the lines of a kiss. That work for you?”
She curled her hands in his jacket. “Depends on the kiss, Gallagher.”
“Never had any complaints from you before,” he said, and slanted his mouth over hers. But this kiss wasn’t the same as when they were younger. It was filled with the same longing, heat, and passion, but there was something more, something deeper. As though they were making up for lost time. The underlying pain of their shared past. Gratitude for what she’d done, admiration for who she’d become.
A wet nose shoved between them, and Michael groaned.
“I think someone’s jealous,” Shay said, laughing when Atticus once again flopped onto his back. She rubbed his belly.
“Yeah, I am.” He leaned in and kissed her below her ear. She shivered the same as she used to. “Come back with me to the manor.”
“I can’t. I have to lie low for a while.”
“Let me—”
She placed two fingers on his lips. “It’s not the right time. You’re just getting out of a relationship, and work’s piled up since I’ve been away.” She leaned in, pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth. “I have to go.”
He helped her to her feet. “When can I see you again?”
She smiled, patted his whining dog, and then looked up at him. “Here. Next year. Same place, same time.”
“I’m holding you to that,” he called to her retreating back.
Hands in the pockets of her leather jacket, she turned and walked backward. “Counting on it. Merry Christmas, Michael.”
It hadn’t been, not until now. “Merry Christmas, Angel.”
He sat on the bandstand step, hauling his dog to his side as he watched Shay disappear from view. With his free hand, he reached for the envelope he’d dropped when he’d kissed her. He heard the low rumble of the Challenger’s engine, shaking his head
at the sound of her burning rubber.
He let go of Atticus to open the envelope. Pulling out a sheaf of papers, he flipped through them while Atticus licked his face. His eyes widened as he processed what he read. Shay was right. She’d given him enough information on both Bethany’s father and her lawyer to stop their smear campaign in its tracks. They were toast. He tipped the envelope, expecting the engagement ring to fall out. It wasn’t there.
Michael laughed. “She hasn’t completely gotten her wings, has she, boy?”
The entire town has been abuzz ever since their most prominent citizen died, leaving behind a book called The Secret Keeper of Harmony Harbor. And no one has a bigger secret in that book than Ava DiRossi…Even worse, the book is nowhere to be found. So the search is on…
Please see the next page for a preview of Starlight Bridge.
Chapter One
Ava DiRossi didn’t believe in fairy tales and happily ever afters, but right about now, she’d sell her soul for a fairy godmother.
As the elevator shuddered and creaked on its way up to the north tower, Ava removed her black work shoe. The sole had come loose, flapping when she walked. She hammered it against the steel frame of the service cart in hopes it would hold out until the end of her shift. After several good whacks, she stopped to examine the seam. Satisfied the shoe wouldn’t fall apart before she got home, she slipped it back onto her foot.
Obviously she didn’t need a fairy godmother to take care of her footwear or to provide her with fancy gowns. And Prince Charming? She’d had one of her own. A long time ago. Only he’d turned out to be more princely and charming than she deserved, and she’d ended their fairy-tale marriage. But there was something a fairy godmother could help her with. If Ava had one, she’d ask her to turn back the clock to three months ago. Her life had been so simple then.
She loved Greystone Manor. It had been her refuge, her sanctuary. She’d been left alone, free to do as she pleased as long as the guest rooms were well and properly cleaned. And they were, because Ava wouldn’t have it any other way. She made sure each room sparkled and shined.
