Sweet Caroline's Keeper

by Beverly Barton

  "You took your own sweet time," Wolfe said, glowering at Jack. "Where the hell were y'all?"

  "We had everything under control," Jack said, a wide grin revealing a set of white teeth, bright against the dark war paint he wore. "Your orders were to wound, not kill at least one of them, so that took a little more effort."

  Wolfe wrapped his arm securely around Caroline, giving her even more support as she began to tremble. "Well, did you accomplish that goal?" he asked.

  Matt O'Brien and another Dundee agent flanked a wounded attacker as they dragged him forward. Jack reached out and ripped the man's dark mask from his face. Caroline gasped. She felt Wolfe tense.

  "They get younger all the time," Jack said.

  "He's just a kid," Caroline cried.

  "We're going to have to get him to a hospital for a litile repair work," Matt said. "That is if you want him to live long enough to tell us who sent him on this little hit-and-run mission."

  "Take him to the hospital," Wolfe said, his voice deadly. "I want him to live. Just make sure that one of you guards his sorry ass every minute until he's well enough for my interrogation."

  Lifting his head, the young man glared angrily at Wolfe. He cleared his throat and spit on the ground. Bloody drool trickled from the side of his mouth. "Interrogate me all you want, Mr. Wolfe. I'll never tell you anything I don't want you to know." He fixed his gaze on Caroline. "Don't think he can keep you safe forever. He can't."

  "Get him out of here," Wolfe said.

  "The fire department and the sheriffs department will be showing up soon," Jack said. "I can handle this kid by my­self, so if you'd like I'll leave Matt and Dom here to explain to the local authorities what happened. I called Sawyer Mc-Namara in on this, so he can help us out with the sheriff."

  "Who's Sawyer. . ." Caroline's vision blurred. The world began to spin around and around.

  "FBI," Jack replied. "Hey there, Miss Caroline, are you all right?"

  Wolfe pivoted her in his arms. She cried out as pain sliced through her side. Wolfe lifted his hand from her rib cage and cursed a blue streak. "She's bleeding," he yelled. "Goddam­mit, Caroline, why didn't you tell me you were hit!"

  "Hit?" What did he mean? Why was he screaming at her?

  Wolfe swung her up into his arms and ran toward the Mer­cedes. Matt opened the car door. Wolfe deposited her on the seat, then knelt and lifted her arm so he could inspect her side. She glanced down and saw that a huge red circle stained her tattered blouse. Wolfe grabbed the soiled material and ripped it apart, exposing the bruised and bloody flesh. He probed gently. She cried out in pain.

  "Where's the nearest hospital?" Wolfe demanded.

  "Follow me," Jack said.

  The last thing Caroline remembered was Wolfe slamming his door as he got behind the wheel.

  Caroline had been trying to awaken for the past half hour. He'd been at her side constantly since she'd come out of surgery early this morning. The bullet had gone through her side, doing no major damage, but she had lost a lot of blood and she would carry a couple of nasty scars the rest of her life. He'd been wild with worry when he carried her into the local hospital's emergency room. In retrospect, he realized that he'd scared the ER staff half to death with his rage when he had demanded immediate care for Caroline. He had blamed himself for not realizing sooner that she was wounded. But she hadn't said a word, hadn't let on that she was in pain. His brave little trouper. She hadn't even realized she'd been shot.

  While he had walked the floor in the waiting room, Jack Parker at his side, he had mouthed and grumbled, blaming himself, blaming the Dundee agents and cursing God for al­lowing something like this to happen to someone as dear and good as Caroline. At one point, Jack had all but dragged him outside to the parking lot.

  "Take a deep breath of fresh air and chill out," Jack had said. "You're not doing Miss Caroline any good by the way you're acting. She's not going to blame you or us or anybody except those damn snipers who attacked y'all. That's who you should be wanting to rip apart, so stop screaming at everybody and stop beating up on yourself."

  "That kid is going to talk. He's going to tell me what I want to know or—"

  "It may be a few days before we can get our hands on him, if then," Jack said. "We may have to get in line behind the FBI, the local sheriff and maybe even Peacekeepers In­ternational."

  "What do the Peacekeepers have to do with this?"

  "Seems our kid sniper, Seth Horton, is a new Peacekee­pers recruit," Jack said. "What do you make of that?"

  "If Ellison Penn pulls any strings to get his hands on that kid, he'd better be doing it so he can hand him over to me. Otherwise, he'll be as good as admitting he was involved with the attack. Ellison's too smart for that."

  "You talk like you know the guy personally and that you suspect him of being part of the plot to kill Miss Caroline."

  "I know Penn by reputation," Wolfe said, realizing how close he'd come to revealing himself.

  Ellison wasn't on his suspects list. He had always trusted him implicitly. After all, the man had been Ms mentor and had done a great deal for him over the years, including giving him a new life. He couldn't see Ellison as a rebel, as a crazed right-wing insurrectionist, but at this point, he didn't dare rule out even the most unlikely suspect. Perhaps he had elimi­nated Lyle and Roz from his list too quickly. He honestly didn't think Roz was the type. And Lyle's love for Caroline seemed too genuine for him to take part in anything that would harm her.

  "Find out who recommended Seth Horton for his job at Peacekeepers International," David had told Jack.

  "You don't suspect a network of Loyalists Coalition mem­bers within the Peacekeepers orgamzation, do you?"

  "Not a network, but possibly a few moles working their way into key positions, the way Preston Shaw did."

  Wolfe decided that until he had proof of any kind against Ellison, he would go with his gut instincts and trust his old friend. But Gavin Robbins was another matter altogether. He didn't trust that bastard any farther than he could throw him. Especially not where Caroline was concerned, he thought now, gazing down at her as she slept.

  "Wolfe?" Caroline opened her eyes.

  He took her hand in his as he leaned over and smiled. He'd never seen a more beautiful sight than Caroline awake and recovering. "How do you feel, sweetheart?"

  "Groggy." She wriggled, then groaned. "And sore."

  "You'll be sore for a few days and then the stitches will itch awhile, but the bruises will fade and so will the scars, eventually."

  She lifted her hand to his cheek. "You look terrible." She ran her fingers over the day's growth of beard stubble cov­ering his face. "How long have I been asleep?"

  "They knocked you out before surgery around five this morning," he said. "It's six in the evening now. After sur­gery, you woke for a few minutes and then went right back to sleep. I was beginning to worry about you, but the nurses assured me that some patients don't come out of it as quickly as others. Your body needed the rest, so you just didn't wake up again until now."

  "I'm hungry." She giggled, then moaned. "Even laughing is painful. Isn't it silly that after what I've been through, I'd wake up hungry."

  "What do you want to eat?" he asked. "Name it and it's yours."

  She caressed his face. "I'm going to be all right, aren't I?"

  The fear and pain of losing her lodged in his throat, an emotion that prevented him from speaking. If anything had happened to her. . . Finally, he nodded.

  "Then don't you think you should stop feeling so guilty," she said. "You saved my life."

  "I risked your life," he managed to say, his jaw tense. "I knew that damn cabin was a trap and I deliberately took you there thinking I could protect you and look what happened."

  "You did protect me," she told him as she framed his face with both hands. "And y'all caught one of the snipers. He must be a member of the Loyalists Coalition, the people who ordered Preston's execution. That means if he doesn't know who kille
d Preston, he can give you the name of some­one who does know."

  David clasped her hands, pulled them away from his face, turned her palms over and kissed each one. "Whoever gave the snipers their order to kill you is the person I want."

  "Do you think you can persuade him to talk?"

  "You can count on it."

  The look of deadly intent she saw in Wolfe's eyes fright­ened her. What would he do to the sniper, who wasn't much more than a boy, in order to make him talk? She couldn't bear even thinking about the methods she'd heard that certain people used to obtain information from an unwilling captive. Wolfe couldn't. . .wouldn't. . . Caroline shuddered.

  "What's wrong?" Wolfe asked, gently grasping her shoul­ders. "Do you need a nurse?"

  She shook her head. "Can't the police question him? You don't have to do it yourself, do you?"

  "Yes, I have to question him myself," Wolfe said. "But you shouldn't be worrying about that kid. All you need to do is concentrate on recovering and going home."

  "Wolfe. . .?"

  "By the way, there are some people outside waiting to see you," he said, obviously determined to change the subject. "Lyle and Roz have already been in, about two hours ago, but of course you were still sleeping. And Fletcher and Brooke got here about forty-five minutes ago."

  "How did they know—"

  "I had Jack phone Lyle and he took it from there." Wolfe nodded to the door. "I'll go out and let them come in to see you. But I won't be more than a few feet outside the door."

  "All right."

  The moment he exited her room, Caroline's friends swarmed around him, bombarding him with questions. He held up his hands in a cease-fire gesture.

  "She's awake and wants to see y'all," Wolfe said. "But no questions about what happened up at the lodge. And in ten minutes, I'm running y'all out of there until later."

  The foursome piled into the room. When Fletcher reached out to close the door, Wolfe grabbed the handle and held the door open. He and Fletcher exchanged a question-and-answer glance, then Fletcher released his hold, nodded his under­standing and left the door open.

  Jack Parker laid his hand on Wolfe's shoulder and said, "I've got something for you."

  Wolfe followed Jack farther out into the hall, but still close enough so that he could see into Caroline's room. "What is it?"

  Jack held out a pair of tinted glasses, identical to the pair Wolfe had left behind at the lodge, which had been just like the ones destroyed at the lakeside cottage in Windhaven. "Thought you might need these, so I ordered you several extra pairs after the bomb explosion."

  Wolfe grinned, took the glasses from Jack and put them on. "Thanks."

  "While I talk, just keep smiling,'' Jack said. "Sawyer tells me that you and Miss Caroline will have to give statements to the local sheriff. Just the basic facts. He says there won't be a problem."

  "I can handle that."

  "And it seems there's already quite a bit of interest in Seth Horton. A request for custody."

  "The County Sheriff has a deputy guarding Horton and will take him into custody when he leaves the hospital." Wolfe grimaced. "So what agency thinks it can usurp the Sheriffs authority?"

  "Peacekeepers International, Gavin Robbins in particular. And it seems that Robbins was the one who recommended Horton for the job at Peacekeepers." Jack tightened his hold on Wolfe's shoulder. "Sawyer says that Horton belongs to the FBI, that the feds want to get their hands on him and the Peacekeepers don't have the authority to save the guy's sorry ass. But he also said that past history shows that the Peace­keepers take care of their own."

  Yes, they do, Wolfe thought. The Peacekeepers took care of its own, but not only in the way Jack meant. They did protect one another, but they also executed their rogue agents. Which motivated Robbins—the need to protect Horton or the decision to execute the man?

  Chapter 18

  Wolfe lifted Caroline out of the car and into his arms, then carried her up the walkway to her house. Roz and Lyle stood in the open door. Matt O'Brien, Domingo Shea and Jack Parker followed. Matt and Dom brought in the flower ar­rangements Caroline had received during her hospital stay, while Jack remained on guard duty.

  "I'm perfectly capable of walking," Caroline said.

  "Humor me." Wolfe stepped up on the porch. "It gives me pleasure taking care of you."

  A peculiar sensation fluttered inside Caroline. Whenever David Wolfe mentioned looking after her, protecting her, car­ing for her—as he had done so often in the past few days— unbidden thoughts of another David came to mind. Memories of the David who had watched over her for so many years couldn't be erased from her mind and heart, not even by the passion she felt for David Wolfe. And not for the first time, a ridiculous thought occurred to her—how perfect it would be if her two Davids were one, if she could somehow com­bine them and never lose either of them.

  "Lyle and I cleaned the house and cooked dinner to­gether," Roz said, as Wolfe brought Caroline into the living room and deposited her on the sofa. "Lyle's quite a cook. He's going to make some girl a really good husband."

  "Hey, don't let Roz sell herself short." Lyle grinned at Roz. "She actually baked the apple pie."

  "It was a frozen pie, straight out of the box." Roz grinned. "All I did was put it in the oven."

  Matt and Dom lingered in the foyer. "Hey, what do you want us to do with these flowers?" Matt asked.

  "Oh, let me have one of the arrangements and I'll put it on the table for a centerpiece." Roz rushed over and took the smaller of the two vases that Matt held.

  "Please put the others in my bedroom," Caroline said.

  Matt nodded, then he and Dom headed upstairs.

  After sighing dramatically, Roz whistled softly under her breath. "Those two guys are dreamboats, aren't they?"

  Lyle cleared his throat and glowered at Roz disapprov­ingly. Jack Parker chuckled.

  Laughing, Roz shrugged. "Okay, so the habit is hard to break. I've spent years collecting men. You can't expect a girl to stop looking and appreciating, just because she's given up the habit"

  "I didn't know you'd sworn off men," Caroline said. "When did this happen?"

  "Recently." Roz stared meaningfully at Lyle. "I'm testing my willpower to see if it'll earn me any brownie points with a guy I'm trying to impress."

  "Lucky guy, if you ask me," Jack Parker said. "Miss Roz, a man would have to be a first-class fool not to be downright flattered that you'd want to impress him."

  "Well, Texas Jack, I appreciate your saying that. Let's just hope the guy I want feels that way." Roz continued staring at Lyle until his face turned red.

  "Oh, by the way, Caroline, a delivery came for you this afternoon," Lyle said. "Roz and I had them put the things in the storage area off the laundry room. I hope that was all right."

  "What sort of delivery?" Wolfe asked, tension wrinkling his brow.

  "Several suitcases and a couple of boxes," Roz said. "Your mother's husband sent them from Europe." Roz crammed her hand into the pocket of her cutoff jeans and pulled out an envelope. "This came with the stuff."

  Wolfe took the letter, inspected it and handed it to Caro­line, then glanced at Jack. "You and Matt and Dom take a look at that special delivery." He glanced at Roz. "Would you show them where y'all put the items?"

  "Sure." Roz's mouth fell open. "You don't think there's a bomb or—"

  "Probably not, but it's best to make sure," Jack said.

  Caroline ripped open the envelope and withdrew a one-page letter. While she read the message, Matt and Dom came back downstairs and Jack motioned for him to follow as Roz led the way out into the kitchen.

  "It's from Armand Mahieu, my mother's sixth husband." Caroline's gaze remained glued to the letter. "He says that although it wasn't my mother's request that I be sent her personal things, he thought it only right that he send certain items to me since I was Lenore's daughter."

  "If it's going to be too painful for you to go through those things, I can do it for yo
u," Lyie said.

  "No, thank you, Lyle." Caroline folded the letter neatly and returned it to the envelope, then reached over and laid it on the end table. "I'll go through them myself. Just not this evening. Maybe tomorrow."

  "Well, Roz and I have plans, so we won't be staying much longer," Lyle announced. "As soon as we serve your dinner, we're going to a church softball game. Roz has joined the team, and after only a couple of games she's already our star pitcher."

  "You're kidding me?" Caroline laughed, then glanced up at Wolfe, who stood behind the sofa. She raised her arm and gently grasped his hand.

  Wolfe looked down at her and smiled, but she could tell that his mind was elsewhere. Was he concerned about the special delivery that the Dundee agents were at this very moment checking over to make sure it wasn't booby-trapped? Of course he was. He was a professional, trained to protect. His first thought would always be regarding her safety. He was a man whom life had taught from the cradle that you could trust no one, that you could count on no one but your­self and that you were smart to suspect everybody. In his eyes, no one was innocent until proved so. Nothing was harmless unless thoroughly inspected.

  Roz reentered the living room first, carrying a tray of tall iced tea glasses. "Refreshments, anyone?"

  By the time Roz had distributed the tea, Jack, Matt and Dom reappeared. Jack grinned. "The delivery is harmless," he said. "Looks like a bunch of old clothes, books, pictures and a jewelry box. Nothing lethal. The jewelry box came with a key, so we unlocked it and checked it out. Hope that was all right with you, Miss Caroline. Seems your mother had some pretty nice jewels. Expensive stuff."