Cain chuckled and kissed her again. “I don’t have time. Murphy and I are about to leave.”
Linette eyes flew open and she sat up on the bed, her heart pounding hard and fast. “Already?” A glance at the clock radio told her it was barely three.
“We’ve got a flight to catch.”
She nodded and swallowed against the constriction blocking her throat. It came to her to tell Cain that within a few short months he’d be a father, but it didn’t seem right under these circumstances.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” he assured her.
Linette did her best to smile.
“Don’t ever doubt my love for you,” he said.
Murphy’s shout came from below.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Cain called back. He walked across the room, then hesitated as if he weren’t certain yet he had the strength to leave her.
Linette cradled her arms around her middle. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
He stood in the doorway. “I won’t.”
Linette closed her eyes, unwilling for him to see how close she was to tears. “Good-bye.”
“Good-bye.”
She scooted back down into the warm blankets and waited for the man she’d married to calmly walk out of her life.
“What have you learned about Enrique?” Cain asked Matt Morrissey, the newest member of Deliverance Company.
“Nothing we didn’t already know,” Matt said.
“The girl? Zita, wasn’t it?”
Matt nodded. “She says she’ll only talk to you. My guess is that Enrique paid her handsomely to lure Jack into her place, and now she’s looking for a handout from us as well. I doubt she’ll be able to help us.”
“You’re sure of that?” The first communications from Enrique had been addressed to Cain, which was one of the reasons Murphy had initially contacted him at the ranch. Apparently the drug lord didn’t know Cain had sold Deliverance Company. Cain was beginning to think there was more to the kidnapping than met the eye.
“I’m not sure of anything,” Matt Morrissey said, “but she looks like the type who would gladly cut out her grandmother’s liver for five extra dollars.”
“You have her with you?”
“She’s waiting outside.”
“Bring her in.” The information phase of this rescue wasn’t going well. They’d expected a ransom or other demands long before now, which led to speculation that Jack might no longer be alive. The prospect left those who knew and worked with Jack Keller depressed and short-tempered.
A few moments later Morrissey returned with a beautiful young woman with eyes as round and dark as a fawn’s. “Hello,” Cain greeted her in her mother language.
The woman eyed him without emotion. “You’re Cain McClellan?” she asked.
Cain nodded.
“He wants you dead, you know?” She said this as if it gave her a good deal of pleasure to be the one to tell him the news.
“Many men want me dead.”
“Enrique wants more than for you to die.”
Cain yawned. He’d heard this and more from several men.
“You killed his favorite brother, and now he wants to return the favor.”
“Jack isn’t my brother.”
“No, he is your friend.” This was said smugly, as if she expected a reaction. She laughed then, and the eerie sound of it echoed against the bare walls. “You are a good friend to this Jack, aren’t you?”
Cain’s gaze narrowed, and he said nothing.
She laughed again and leaned forward, exposing her breasts. “Are my breasts as beautiful as your wife’s?”
Cain discovered he was fast losing his patience. “What does Enrique want?” he demanded brusquely.
Dramatically she tossed her hands into the air. “Nothing. He has everything he needs. He wishes me to thank you for your quick response.”
The woman spoke in riddles. Cain could think of nothing more to ask her. Matt returned and took her away, and Murphy joined Cain shortly afterward.
“It makes no sense,” Cain told his friend.
“What doesn’t?” Murphy inquired. “Apparently I killed Enrique’s brother and he’s after revenge.”
“That’s why he has Jack.”
“That’s what he wants us to think, but I don’t buy it. Jack’s a friend, but he isn’t my brother. I’d feel bad if anything happened to Jack, but it wouldn’t change my life. Jack readily put his life on the line with every mission.”
Cain was packing now, his mind working fast. “How many people know I’m married?”
Murphy shrugged as if he found the question of little consequence.
“Zita knows,” Cain snapped. “Enrique knows.”
“It isn’t like you were planning on keeping it a secret, is it?”
“No, but if Pretty Boy was looking for revenge, just where do you think he’d start?” Cain couldn’t believe how stupid he’d been. He’d walked right into Enrique’s trap. The drug lord had lured him away from the ranch, away from Linette, with Jack’s kidnapping.
“You don’t think he’d actually do anything to Linette, do you?” Murphy asked.
“I’ve got to get to a phone.”
It took them the better part of twenty minutes to make long-distance connections with the United States. The better part of Cain’s sanity was lost in that time. He’d abandoned his wife and in doing so had set her in a death trap.
When he finally was able to reach the house, there was no answer.
“It may not be as bad as it looks,” Murphy said, looking anxious himself. “According to my calculations, it’s three in the afternoon. She might be outside. Try again in a couple of minutes.”
“Mallory,” Cain said next.
“But he’s in Washington State,” Murphy said, apparently not understanding.
Cain was well aware of exactly where Mallory lived. “If Enrique was looking for a brother to kill, Mallory’s as close to me as any relative.”
No one answered at Mallory’s place, either.
In desperation Cain contacted John Stamp. “Where’s Linette?” he asked when Patty answered the phone.
“Cain, is that you? Good grief, you sound like you’re phoning from the moon.”
“Where’s Linette?” Cain pleaded a second time. “Patty, listen, it’s very important that I speak to her immediately.”
“I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen her all day.”
“Where is she?”
“Honestly, I don’t know why you’re so upset, but I don’t have a clue where she might be. Funny, now that you mention it, but the truck’s here, and I didn’t see her leave. Are you sure there’s no answer at the house?”
17
Mallory didn’t venture far from the house these days. Francine was due to deliver their baby any time now, and frankly he didn’t know how much more of this suspense he could take. When he’d first learned Francine was pregnant, Tim had been justifiably proud. It hadn’t taken long for his seed to take root, and there was a certain amount of male pride associated with the speed with which he’d impregnated his wife.
Now that the baby was due, Mallory’s thoughts were consumed with Francine’s well-being. He’d wanted temporarily to move off Vashon Island, where only minimal health care was available. It seemed perfectly logical to him that they rent a hotel room close to the hospital to await the blessed event. But his stubborn wife would hear none of it.
Francine, who hadn’t been delicate and small before the pregnancy, was as big as a house now, yet Mallory was convinced he’d never seen her look more beautiful. Her stomach protruded halfway into the next room, yet every move she made was marked with grace and poise. He marveled at her and not for the first time recognized that he was a damn lucky son of a bitch to have married this remarkable woman.
The other day he’d found her in the nursery, preparing the room for their child. He’d seen her fold a minute T-shirt and found it impossible to believe that any child of h
is would ever be so small.
His son or daughter. The significance of his as-yet-unborn child hadn’t fully impacted Mallory. At first the baby was a something rather than a someone. They’d talked about the baby, but the reality of him or her hadn’t struck home until Mallory had watched his child blossom and grow inside Francine’s womb. This new life had stretched and explored its world, and Mallory had been amazed to have his child kick against his own hand.
Mallory was worried. He was a man who’d spent the better part of his adult life on a battlefield. Yet nothing had concerned him more than this young life he’d created with Francine.
His gaze followed his wife as she set their dinner on the table. He didn’t want her to know how anxious and fretful he’d become. Yet it had become harder and harder to hide his distress.
“It really isn’t necessary to watch my every move,” Francine said, one hand braced against the small of her back. “Trust me, Tim, we’ll have plenty of warning before Junior makes an appearance.”
“I don’t know why you won’t listen to reason.”
Francine smiled and her eyes brightened, and Mallory swore he would love this woman on his dying day. “We’ll have plenty of time to get to the hospital, I promise you.”
“The ferries—”
“Run every half hour. Now stop worrying and come to the table. Dinner’s ready.”
Mallory set aside the evening newspaper and joined his wife at the dining room table. He discovered as her time drew near that he didn’t have nearly as hearty an appetite as usual. If this waiting went on much longer, he’d be skin and bone.
“Would you stop,” she snapped. “You’d think I was the only woman in the world to be nine months pregnant.”
Mallory reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “As far as I’m concerned, you are.” It was in his mind to kiss her, but he decided against it. They hadn’t made love in three weeks, two days, and ten hours, not that he was counting. The problem was, Mallory had never desired his wife more. Kissing her just then was more temptation than he could handle.
“Take heart. I talked to my mother this morning, and she’ll be here for two weeks following my release from the hospital. You can relax and let Grandma take over.”
Mallory didn’t know how other husbands felt about their mothers-in-law, but frankly, he was overjoyed that Martha would be with them.
“Good,” he said, and reached for the bread and butter. “But I still think we should be hiring a nurse or a nanny or whatever it is other families do.”
“We aren’t going to need a nanny. We’re going to care for this baby ourselves. We’ll take turns changing diapers.”
“Hey, just a minute,” Mallory said, holding up his right hand. “No one said anything to me about messy diapers.”
“I’m saying it now. You wanted to be a father, remember?”
Mallory grinned. “As I recall, I was far more interested in the creative process.”
The phone rang just then. Francine looked to him. “Let the answering machine get it,” she pleaded. “You know how much I dislike having our dinner interrupted.”
It was a small request, and Mallory agreed. “I doubt it’s important.”
They finished their meal, and as Mallory carried the dishes to the sink, he noticed Francine staring out the window above the kitchen sink.
“Something wrong?”
“The light’s off inside the barn.”
Mallory glanced out the window himself. A still, eerie darkness permeated the night.
“It’d be just like Bubba to use this as an excuse to raise all kinds of hell,” Francine murmured.
The male llama had been a thorn in Mallory’s side from the first. After months of working together, man and beast had a grudging respect for each other.
“You’d better see about getting the bulbs changed. Do you want me to come with you?”
“Every light’s off,” Mallory said, wondering what had blown the breaker. It wasn’t likely that every light bulb had malfunctioned at the same time.
“I’ll finish up here,” Francine told him, and opened the dishwasher.
Mallory kissed her on the cheek on his way out the door. Humming to himself, he made his way across the yard. His steps slowed. Tension filled the night air. It was almost as if he were on a mission again, and Cain McClellan were at his side. The hair on the back of his neck rose, and it wasn’t from static electricity.
He was only a few steps away from the barn door when he heard Francine.
“Tim. Tim,” she called, her voice filled with controlled fear.
Mallory whirled around to discover his wife standing on the porch steps, her arms cradling her grossly extended stomach. The light above the door illuminated her face. Her eyes were round and imploring.
Mallory swore his blood ran cold. “Is it the baby?”
“John,” Cain said hurriedly into the telephone receiver. His plane was scheduled to depart in twenty minutes, but he was frantic to learn what he could of his wife’s whereabouts. “Have you talked to Linette yet?”
“I can’t say that I have. But don’t you worry, I’m sure everything’s fine. I’ve sent Patty over to the house to check up on her.”
“No,” Cain cried. “Don’t send Patty there alone.”
“I’m sorry, Cain, but I’m having trouble hearing you. There’s a bunch of static on the line. Can you hear me?”
The irony of the situation was that his end of the telephone was as clear as Austrian church bells. Rarely had Cain felt more helpless. He’d spent the better part of two fruitless hours attempting to warn those closest to him that he suspected they were in grave danger.
Unable to talk to Mallory personally, Cain had been forced to leave a cryptic message on his answering machine. This was his second, or was it his third call to the Stamps? He didn’t remember any longer. The local sheriff had promised to send someone out to check on Linette, but that could be hours yet.
“John, listen to me, and listen carefully. Linette may be in danger. There’s a man seeking revenge against me. He knows about Linette.”
“Cain, listen, I apologize, but I still can’t hear you. Your voice keeps fading in and out. From what I understand, you’re worried about Linette.”
“Yes!” Cain screamed. Worried was the understatement of the year.
“I’m sure everything’s fine. By the way, I understand congratulations are in order.”
“Congratulations?” He didn’t know if his wife was alive or dead, and his foreman was issuing congratulations. It didn’t seem possible that in this nightmare there might be news that was good.
“Patty went to the doctor with Linette. So you’re going to be a father.”
Cain felt the sudden need to sit down. Linette hadn’t said a word. Hadn’t so much as hinted at her condition, not even when she might have used the information to keep him from leaving with Murphy. He closed his eyes and braced his forehead against the wall.
“Patty gave her one of those home test kits, but Linette wanted a GYN to confirm her condition. You’ll like Dr. Adams. He delivered both our boys.”
“Find Linette,” Cain shouted into the receiver. “Keep her safe. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“You haven’t got a thing to worry about,” John assured him. “Just relax and you’ll be home before you know it.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm everyone,” Linette said, looking to John and Patty Stamp. The couple stood at the end of her bed, looking slightly embarrassed for having walked uninvited into the house.
“It’s just that Cain phoned and said he was worried about you,” John explained.
“Worried. Whatever for?”
“John couldn’t make it out. Apparently the line was bad,” Patty said. “Men…I doubt we’ll ever understand them.”
“I haven’t felt good all day. I think I might be coming down with a case of the flu.” Linette felt mildly guilty. The phone had been ringing off the hook all mo
rning. She’d finally unplugged it in order to sleep without constant interruptions.
“You say Cain’s been trying to reach me?”
“That’s what he said. He’s on his way home. I don’t understand it myself, but he wants you to stay with us until he’s back.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“He’s probably concerned about your being pregnant,” Patty offered.
“He doesn’t know,” Linette admitted sheepishly. “I didn’t tell him.”
John Stamp buried his hands in his jean pockets and shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “He knows now. I didn’t realize you were keeping it a secret. I congratulated him when he phoned.”
“He knows?” This left Linette to wonder if this was the reason Cain was rushing back to Montana.
“He didn’t act surprised.”
“He wouldn’t,” Patty muttered.
Linette understood why. No man would willingly admit to his hired help that he’d been left in the dark about his own wife’s condition.
“Did he say when to expect him?”
John rotated the brim of his hat in his large hands. “I can’t rightly say. He seemed far more concerned about you staying with the missus and me for the next couple of days.”
“But that’s ridiculous.”
“It’s what Cain wants.”
“I’m not leaving this house, John Stamp, no matter what instructions my husband gave you. Not when I can barely lift my head off this pillow. I don’t know what’s gotten into Cain, but I assure you, I can take care of myself.”
Still John hesitated. “You’re sure about that?”
“Positive.”
“Then so be it. Just be sure you let Cain know that the decision was yours. I’ve seen that man when he’s upset, and I don’t want to be on the receiving end of his temper.”
“You won’t be,” Linette promised.
“How are you feeling now?” Patty asked.
“My stomach’s queasy.” Her head throbbed with a killer headache, and she alternated between sweats and chills.
“When was the last time you had anything to eat?” Patty asked.
Linette shook her head. She didn’t remember. “Morning, I guess.” Tea and dry toast. Neither had stayed down for long, but she wasn’t sure if that could be attributed to the flu or to morning sickness.
Someday Soon Page 24
