“It’s here,” she said, looking up and pointing.
The truck stopped on the service road. She waited for the firefighters to scramble out, then she eased to the ground and got her first good look at the fire.
It stretched across what looked like miles. Bright, hot flames consumed the vines much more quickly than she could have imagined. Every now and then a column rose to salute the sky, as if in victory.
“No, you don’t,” Darcy murmured, even as she inhaled the sharp scent of scorched grapes and burned leaves.
The firefighters went to work with their hoses. Darcy circled around the back of the truck and found Mia.
“We have to go locate the next water station,” Darcy said. “For the next truck. It shouldn’t be that far.”
“Lead on,” Mia told her. “Alex, we’re going up to find the next water connection.”
He nodded and joined them. In the distance Darcy saw another truck pull up. Several people climbed out. She thought she saw Joe, but in the swirling smoke, it was hard to be sure. Still, her heart jumped a little, as if it recognized its one true love.
And then she knew she had to tell him the truth. She couldn’t leave without admitting she loved him. To do so would be to dishonor the connection she felt with him.
But first, there was a fire to fight and a vineyard to save.
• • •
For a Navy SEAL, water was a safe haven. Joe didn’t like this new enemy that consumed without conscience. The flames grew and stretched and took. It didn’t seem to matter how much water they sprayed, the fire lived on.
He stayed close to the fire chief, giving information when he could and helping with hoses. As he worked, he eyed the sky. How long until dawn? How long until the air support could join them?
Time seemed to stand still until the world was simply heat and flames and water. He sweated and coughed from the smoke and hoped everyone was staying safe.
Too many civilians, he thought. Too many people who didn’t have the training. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The winery was supposed to be easy.Not on my watch, he thought.Not on my watch.
Frustration became anger. Lorenzo had left him the winery so he would stay. The old man had wanted him to care. Now, with the fire destroying all that four generations of Marcellis had built, Joe found himself cursing his own worry and concern.
“Good news,” the fire chief said as he handed Joe a bottle of water. “The fog’s coming in.”
Joe unscrewed the top of the bottle and swallowed half the contents in one long drink. Then he turned to the west and saw the stars had disappeared behind a bank of heavy fog. The air was less dry, the flying ash and cinders less hot.
“Will this make a difference?” he asked.
“It’ll help,” the chief told him. “A heavy fog bank will combine with the smoke and make it a bitch to see, but there isn’t any wind. If we can get the humidity high enough, we’ll get a handle on this son of a bitch.”
Joe finished the water. “I want to know how it started.”
“You and me, both,” the chief told him. “I have a feeling you’re not going to like what we find.”
“Arson?”
“Could be. You have cultivated vineyards up here. No power lines, no lightning strikes. The ground is dry, but not parched, and the heavy fruit doesn’t burn easily.”
Joe couldn’t think of anyone who would want to burn down Marcelli Wines. They were successful, but not a major holding. Not like Wild Sea.
He reminded himself this wasn’t the time or the way to find answers. Instead he went back to work on the fire. When the firefighters came and asked him to help pull up several rows of grapes to widen a fire break, he reached for a shovel and dug in.
Time passed. The moments were measured in sweat and sparks and smoke. The fog continued to roll in until some of it reached behind the fire, creating an eerie backdrop for the dancing flames.
He heard a horn honk and turned to look. Paige and Lauren drove up on a golf cart.
“We have food and water,” Lauren yelled. “Take a break.”
He joined the other men as the women handed out thick sandwiches and chilly bottles of water.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“Good.” Paige tucked a bottle of water into his jeans pocket. “The other teams are making progress, too. The fog’s helping. We’re hoping for rain.”
“I’m going to go check on them,” he told the chief.
“You know where to find us.”
Joe hopped on the back of the cart and directed Paige toward the other teams.
“Thanks for helping,” he said. “You didn’t have to.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “I’ve put in my time here, too,” she said. “I care about the Marcellis as much as you.” She faced front and shrugged. “They’re good people.”
They were good people, he thought as he jumped out of the cart and walked over to another group of firefighters. Marco and Colleen were studying maps spread on the ground.
“Here,” Marco said, pointing. “Above it is the steepest terrain we have. I wouldn’t risk going any higher. If we make our stand there, we should be fine.” He glanced up and saw Joe. “We’re winning.”
“You think?”
Marco motioned to the thickening fog. “Pop wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Joe wanted to point out that the fog was a weather phenomenon common to the area, not proof of ghostly interference, but he couldn’t seem to say the words. Maybe because he’d felt Lorenzo’s presence as well. Four generations of Marcellis had worked the line. There was no way the old man would let that be lost.
The smoke was less thick here. He could see the acres of grapes yet to be touched by the flames.
“If we can get a protective break around them,” he said, thinking out loud.
“Exactly,” Marco said. “We can save most of them. Still have a decent year.”
There was, Joe realized, a point when a soldier knew to give up the battle. When the victory or the loss became inevitable. Casualties could still occur on both sides, but the outcome had been determined.
When had that happened to him? He’d been fighting long enough, but against what? His destiny? What was so bad about claiming this as his heritage? What did he resent about it?
He liked it here, he admitted to himself. He liked the family and the location. Darcy loved it and them. She was…
Colleen touched his arm. “What are you thinking about? You’re smiling.”
“Darcy,” he admitted, wondering when exactly he’d let Darcy in.
“Really? I knew you two were getting along, but I didn’t think things were that serious. She’s the president’s daughter.”
“Yeah. I figured that out already.”
“I only meant that there will be complications.” She smiled. “We’re here for you, Joe. You know that, right?”
He nodded. “Okay, back to the fire. I’m going to check on the other teams.”
His mother hugged him. “On Darcy, you mean.”
“That, too.”
Suddenly he was eager to see her. This wasn’t the time or place to discuss anything, but he needed to hear her voice and know she was all right.
• • •
Darcy had never fought a fire before, and she made a mental note to keep it off her to-do list. So far the firefighters had kept them back, relegating them to behind the truck activities. Even so, carting water and supplies, showing the way to the next hose hookup was hard, hot work. The smoke made it tough to breathe easily, and even with the fog rolling in there were still sparks flying everywhere.
But she wasn’t going to give up, especially when it seemed as if they were making progress. The flames didn’t seem to reach as high, and every now and then she thought she could see a little farther into the vineyard.
She walked back to the trucks and reached for one of the sandwiches Paige and Lauren had brought. She’d just taken her first bite when I
an came running up.
“Joe’s looking for you,” he said.
“Really? Is he all right?”
Ian grinned. “I think he wants to make sure that you are. Come on. This way.”
He led her around the trucks and into the vineyard. They were heading away from the fire.
“Joe’s out here?” she asked.
Just then someone called her name. She turned back and saw someone running after them, but she couldn’t see who it was. A man, but who?
“Wait,” Darcy told Ian. “Is that Joe?”
Ian moved beside her and took her arm in his left hand. Then, before she realized what was happening, he pulled a gun out of his jacket, took aim on the approaching man, and pulled the trigger.
The world slowed. Later, Darcy would swear that she could actually see the bullet burst out of the barrel. She saw the man stop in midstride. He twisted and then he was falling to the ground.
“Joe!” she screamed in horror. Not him. It couldn’t be him.
She started to run but found she couldn’t move. She turned to see what was holding her in place. Ian had a grip on her arm. Other men appeared out of the darkness. There were four of them. Just like before.
“No!” she screamed into the night.
The men didn’t stop. One of them tackled her, and she found herself flat on her back. She couldn’t breathe, and no matter how she squirmed and clawed and kicked, they didn’t let go. Her arms were yanked behind her back, and ropes were fastened around her hands. More ties bound her ankles. She screamed again and one of them stuffed a handkerchief into her mouth. The dry, dirty cotton made her gag.
Joe! Joe! Was he shot? Bleeding? Dead?
Two of them half dragged, half carried her to a van. Past and present blended until she wasn’t sure what was real and what was from before.
She bucked and twisted and lashed out as best she could. One of the men released her. She hit the ground on her side. Pain shot through her shoulder, but she didn’t give in to it. Instead she rolled toward the vines, intent on hiding, on getting away.
Then the men were around her. They picked her up. One of them used bolt cutters to remove her security bracelet. Ian held a gun to her cheek.
“Try escaping again and I’ll splatter your brains all over the place. Got me?”
Ian, she thought. How could it be him? He was harmless. He was Mia’s annoying boyfriend. It couldn’t be Ian.
But it was, and the gun in his hand told her he was deadly serious.
• • •
“They’re right over here,” Paige said as she stopped the cart. “We should be able to find them by following Ian’s chatter.”
Joe nodded as he got out of the cart. He looked around. The firefighters were clearly visible, but not anyone else.
Without warning, his gut clenched. There was no reason, but he’d learned to trust the sensation.
“Something’s wrong,” he told Paige. “Get backup.”
“What?”
“Now,” he ordered, even as he headed out into the vineyards. “Darcy,” he yelled. “Darcy?”
It was hard to hear anything with the roar of the fire in the background, but he listened intently. A groan caught his attention.
He raced toward the sound only to find Mia on all fours. She’d just finished vomiting.
“My head,” she said weakly. “That bastard hit me on the head.”
“Who?” Joe asked, although he already knew.
“Ian. What the hell is wrong with him?” she demanded.
Joe felt her pulse, then touched the bump on her head. He stood and called for Lauren. “Mia’s been hurt,” he told her. “Get her to the cart.”
“Where’s Darcy?” Lauren asked frantically. “Where’s my sister?”
Joe didn’t know and thinking about the possibilities made his blood run cold. Who else had been part of the team? “Alex,” he yelled. “Alex!”
Paige joined him. “Where are they? Where are Alex and Darcy?”
Rather than answer, Joe hurried to the edge of the vineyard. There he saw the broken vines, ripped leaves. A struggle. He reached down and picked up Darcy’s security bracelet. Paige was behind him and to his left. She screamed.
“Alex’s been shot. He’s been shot.”
21
Once again Darcy found herself tied up in the back of a van. There was just enough predawn light coming through the back window for her to see the filthy floor, complete with a hole about eight inches across.
What was it with kidnappers that they couldn’t afford decent vehicles? she wondered, trying to be disgusted and angry instead of terrified. And if they had to buy some beat-up piece of crap, couldn’t they at least keep it clean?
The van took a corner at high speed. Darcy went sliding, along with candy wrappers, sheets of paper, and who knows what else. She didn’t want to think about things like rats and bugs, nor did she want to remember the easy way Ian had shot someone.
Not Joe, she prayed. Not anyone, but especially not Joe.
Ian! A kidnapper! It wasn’t possible. How had he ever shut up enough to plan anything? Oh God. Joe. Be alive.
She didn’t want to consider any other possibility, so she forced herself to think about something else. Like how she was gagging on the handkerchief. She pushed her tongue against the cloth and worked her mouth until she was able to spit it out. The cloth hit the floor, rolled, and fell out the hole in the bottom of the van.
As she watched it go, she wished she were small enough to simply fall out the bottom of the van. Any bumps and bruises from hitting the road would be better than what Ian had in mind for her.
Oh God. Fear exploded inside of her. She turned and twisted on the dirty floor as she tried to free herself. She screamed and screamed but knew no one could hear her. It was five or six in the morning on a narrow road in the middle of nowhere. Who was going to be around to listen?
Worse, did anyone even know she was gone? With the fire and everyone busy with that, it could be hours before they noticed she was missing.
Tears burned her eyes but she refused to give in to them. Be strong, she told herself. Tough. She’d already survived one kidnapping. Of course those kidnappers hadn’t wanted her, they’d wanted Lauren and—
Darcy sat up. Lauren had been right there at the winery. Ian could have taken her just as easily, but he hadn’t.
“This is not how I wanted to be the special daughter,” she screamed, kicking at the side of the van. “I was thinking more of an award or something.”
A few candy wrappers fluttered out the hole. Great. Now she was littering.
“Wait a minute.”
She stared at the hole, then at all the garbage in the back of the van. Could she use it to signal where they were going, or at least where they’d been?
She scooted so her back was against one of the walls of the van, and kicked a candy wrapper toward the hole. After counting to sixty, she pushed it out. Another minute later, she pushed out a rag.
Would anyone realize it wasn’t just trash? she wondered. Would the trash get blown away? She needed something bigger. Something more significant.
She looked around at the back of the van. Nothing came to mind until she looked at her feet. Her shoes.
While she didn’t like the thought of being barefoot, she liked the thought of being dead even less. She toed off one of her shoes and nudged it toward the opening. It slipped through and fell to the road. She would continue with the trash, then put out the other shoe in another ten minutes or so.
If only she knew how long they would be driving, she thought. Should she wait longer than ten minutes? What would happen when they got wherever they were going?
“Don’t think about it,” she told herself. “Don’t think about it.”
But there was little else to occupy her mind. Fearing and wondering if Joe were alive. After dumping out more trash, she debated removing her other shoe. Before she could decide, the van came to a stop. The fear returned and w
ith it a certain sense of dread.
• • •
“Towels,” Joe yelled. “Thick towels.”
“They’re not sterile,” Tessa told him as she and Grammy M hurried around the kitchen.
“It’s fine. We need pressure.” He took the towel Tessa handed him and held it over the wound in Alex’s side.
The Secret Service agent looked up at him. “I didn’t see it coming. Should have.”
His color was nonexistent, his breathing labored. From what Joe could tell, the bullet had gone in and out cleanly. But what it had done while passing through remained to be seen.
He looked around at the frantic faces in the kitchen. Paige was on the phone, detailing what had happened. He felt a burning need to hunt down Ian and kill him. But until Paige was done, he was the only one in the house with the training to keep Alex alive.
“What should we do?” Colleen asked, her expression both worried and grim. “I can’t believe Ian took Darcy. Should we start searching the buildings?”
“No point. They’re gone. I saw tracks heading west.”
“Toward the interstate,” Marco said. “They could be anywhere.”
Goddamn son of a bitch, when he got his hands on Ian, he was going to rip him apart and watch him bleed to death.
Mia crouched in a chair. She was still woozy from being hit on the head and needed to be checked out. There was too much to do, he thought grimly.
Paige hung up the phone. “Okay, the team’s coming. Local, state, and federal law enforcement have been notified. Road blocks will be up within the half hour. We’ll have full tactical support in less time. The president has been notified.”
Joe didn’t want to think about that phone call or what the other man must be feeling. Joe had enough trouble battling his own worry, and he was a trained professional.
“I should have known,” he muttered.
Paige hurried to the kitchen table where she stared down at Alex. “We all should have known.”
The Marcelli Bride Page 23
