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Intercepted by Love: Part Five: A Football Romance (The Quarterback's Heart Book 5)

Page 6

by Ayala, Rachelle


  The doorbell rang. Andie stuffed the notes into the pillowcase and ran for the front door. She tripped on a rug and flew face first into a shelf full of Hollywood memorabilia. Blood spurted from her nose, but she cupped it and hit the intercom. Roxanne stood outside with Declan.

  Andie yanked the door open. “Oh, good, you’re here.”

  “What happened to you?” Declan raised his eyebrow, giving her his trademark smart guy look.

  “Nothing. I’m in a hurry. No time. The diaper bag’s packed and Bret’s asleep. If you can take him without waking him.”

  “Oh, I thought we were staying here,” Roxanne said. “I’m sure Cade won’t mind.”

  “Actually, I need you two to leave. I left him a note. The house is a mess.”

  “We can help you straighten it,” Declan said. His teeth were still clenched, thanks to six weeks wired shut.

  Roxanne opened the kitchen door. “Yeah, look at Bret. He’s sleeping so soundly. No need to wake him.”

  “I really need you guys to leave. Sorry to be rude.” Andie ran to the sink and splashed water over her bloody nose, then dabbed it with a paper towel. She wasn’t about to let Roxanne and Declan see her leave with George. She stopped the swing and unbuckled the baby, who whined and squirmed, taking a deep breath, about to cry.

  “Oh, now look what you did.” Roxanne crossed her arms and stomped her foot. She didn’t even move to pick up the baby.

  Andie took Bret out of the swing and handed him to Roxanne. “His carseat’s in the garage.”

  The baby yowled and screamed, angry at being disturbed.

  “Looks hungry to me,” Roxanne said. “What’s the rush?”

  Andie grabbed a clean bottle from the dishwasher and took the formula powder from the pantry. She popped the lid of the container and scrambled through the kitchen drawer for a measuring spoon.

  The doorbell chimed. Crap. She turned toward it and knocked the can of powder off the counter. Poof! It exploded on the floor and dusted her feet.

  “Don’t get that door,” she yelled, running out of the kitchen.

  “Don’t get it? What do you mean?” Declan already had the door open.

  George stood there taking off his driving gloves. “Andie, are you ready?”

  “I, uh, my suitcase.” She dashed for the spiral staircase.

  “I thought I told you not to pack.” George followed her.

  “I have to make Cade think I went to New York.”

  “Oh, well, then, let’s take your cell phone. I’ll send it with an agent who’s enroute to New York and she can text him.”

  “Why my cell?” Andie grabbed her carry-on and stuffed her cell phone charger, the prepaid phone and her purse into it.

  “He might have a tracker on it. Anyway, you’re going to have another prepaid to use to contact us.” He took the overstuffed suitcase. “Let’s go. Owen’s in the car.”

  “He’s coming along?” Andie wished she had seriously studied the logistics beforehand, but after Cade returned from jail and the charges were dropped, she’d gotten complacent.

  “Yes, he’ll go over everything with you on the way. Not to worry.”

  Andie gulped and followed George down the spiral staircase. She rushed past Declan without looking at him and was almost out the door when Roxanne jumped at her from the porch, blocking her.

  “Well, well, well, running off with your boyfriend. I read your heartfelt note on the refrigerator.”

  “It’s not what it looks like, this is a—”

  George looped his arm around her and caught her head, landing a voice-stopping kiss.

  “Darling, it’s exactly what it looks like,” he called back to Roxanne. “Take good care of the baby.”

  “I will, yoohoo, bon voyage.” Roxanne waved with a satisfied cat got the cream grin on her face.

  As soon as Andie stepped into the car, she snapped, “Why’d you do that? Now Cade’s going to hate me.”

  George reached across and buckled her shoulder belt. “That’s good. It’ll stop him from looking for you. You almost blew it. You should have texted me to hold off while they were there.”

  “I thought they’d take the baby and leave.” Andie sighed and rubbed her eyes.

  “Hey, guys, we just have to deal with it.” Owen didn’t lift his head from the backseat until they were safely away from the house. “It might have worked out better since those bozos clearly think Andie ran off with a lover. Yes, we can’t clue Cade in, but once we catch the perps, he’ll be grateful, especially if we find his mother.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Andie slumped in her seat. “I can’t wipe their smug expressions from my brain. I can only imagine what they’ll say to Cade.”

  “Can’t worry about it now,” George said. “An agent has to do whatever it takes. In a lot of ways, we’re actors, only we’re in real danger when we flub our lines.”

  “Oh, yeah, but when we get it right? The thrill is higher than sex, drugs, or rock and roll.” Owen chuckled and rubbed Andie’s shoulder. “Try and relax.”

  Relax? How could she when the adrenaline and stress hormones racing through her veins had her higher than a hippy in a hot air balloon?

  Chapter Nine

  Cade parked his car, a replacement to the one Andie totaled, a few blocks from his mother’s modest house in Wilmington.

  He wandered past the junior high school with its new mascot, the Jaguars, replacing the politically incorrect Warriors of the past. They’d also painted a giant head of a jaguar over the teal blue letters spelling Wilmington. Even though his mother grew up on the east side, he’d found her a nice pad on the west side, off Neptune Avenue. It shouldn’t matter. It wasn’t as if she was a kid wearing gang colors anymore.

  Cade unlatched the gate of the chain link fence festooned with pink, red, and yellow hibiscus blossoms and scanned the front porch. Someone was here. The usual flyers and circulars that lay tossed around were missing. He overturned the pot of geraniums and found the spare key.

  He patted the Narcan or naloxone kit in his pocket, a nasal spray and two syringes used to reverse an overdose, before turning the lock.

  A click warned him right before he looked into the barrel of a shotgun.

  “Stay back,” Dick said. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Put the gun down.” Cade growled at the old man. “Where’s Barb?”

  “She ain’t here.” Dick lowered the gun.

  “Then where is she? And what are you doing here?” Cade shut the door and flicked on the light. A grimy, tar-like smell seeped from the stuffy house whose shades were drawn without ventilation.

  “Someone’s using in here.” Cade swept his hand over the tar prints around the door knobs and over the light switch plates. “Where is she?”

  “Told you, she’s not here.”

  “Dammit, you’re lying.” Cade moved a pile of postage stamp-sized packets from the bookshelf. He upended a sitting Buddha and found it filled with colorful rubber tube balloons, the kind used for balloon animals, each segment tied into knots as tiny as his thumbnail—ready to be popped for hit after hit.

  He glared into the older man’s blue eyes—not dilated and sharp as a razor’s edge. “Where is she and what are you, a dealer?”

  “Only if you’re buying,” the old man’s lip curled. “A man’s gotta make a living.”

  “Not like this. Get out of my house.” Cade grabbed Dick by the shirt and shoved him toward the door. “Out. I’m calling the cops. Tell me what you did to my mother. What you’ve always done to her.”

  Several more clicks sounded behind him, and Dick’s eyes darted over his shoulder right before the first Taser zapped Cade.

  Pain exploded, shooting his legs out from under him, and he hit the floor with an electrifying thud.

  “Tie him up and get the shipment ready,” Dick ordered.

  While Cade was unable to control his limbs, the goons tied him up and blindfolded him, then shoved him onto a futon.
/>   “How dare you come to my ’hood and mess with my homies,” Dick said from above him. “You ruined my life and you’re going to pay.”

  “Why? I wasn’t the one asking to be born. I didn’t ask you to get my mom pregnant. I certainly wasn’t looking to go through three months detox as a baby, and then being farmed out to foster families all over Los Angeles. You, Dad, you’re the one who fucked up my life. So tell me why I have to pay.”

  Dick clutched Cade’s throat, pressing into his windpipe with his big, strong hands. Cade hunched his shoulders and tightened his chin to his neck, but couldn’t dislodge the former football player. Pain shot through his throat, and jagged lights flashed behind his eyelids.

  He heaved himself forward and caught Dick’s jaw with his forehead, loosening his grip. Whipping his legs like the tail of a whale, Cade knocked the other man from the futon with a loud crash as he smashed into the window, breaking it.

  “You sick puppy.” Dick regained his footing and kicked Cade’s head. “You’re going to stay out of my way if you know what’s good for you.”

  “All I want to know is where my mother is. You give her back to me, and I’ll stay as far from you as you like.”

  “I’m not your mother’s keeper.”

  “Right, you only blackmailed her and made her your puppet.”

  “Ha, shows how much you knew her. She was the one blackmailing me. She made me siphon money from my wife to her accounts. She had me sign you as a first round draft pick straight out of college. Oh, I’m sure you remember how shocked everyone was, said I was out of my gourd, giving up that spot for a second stringer. She pulled all my strings in the past. Now I have news for you. The money, the high life, the glory, it’s all gone now, and she owes me. You owe me.”

  “What do you want from me?” Cade grunted.

  “The passwords. You changed them, didn’t you?”

  “No, I should have.” Cade could kick himself for not thinking of that first. “Someone else beat me to it.”

  That remark earned him another kick to the head.

  “Bastard. You’re lying. The money in there is mine.”

  “So let me get this straight. She both blackmailed you and funded your pet projects. I saw just as much money going out of that account as coming in.”

  “If she’s run off with the money, I’ll kill her.” The old man stomped around the small house.

  “Sure, like that’ll solve all your problems.” Cade couldn’t help the snide remark. “Mom’s too clever to get caught by the likes of you. What else does she have on you? Now that the cat’s out of the bag, I’m sure you two don’t need each other anymore.”

  “You’re darn right we don’t. Except I need that password.” He nudged Cade with his foot. “How about we make a deal. You get that password from her, and I’ll call it even. I’ll take back that baby of mine and you can marry your girl, the redhead. No need to pretend to be the papa anymore.”

  Every blood cell in Cade’s veins froze. Was Bret still Dick’s and not his? Why did it kill him inside to realize that Dick could waltz in and take Bret back at any time? No, this couldn’t be the final deal. He’d have to up the ante.

  “I’ll keep the baby,” Cade said, hoping his voice was steady enough. “I’ve kind of gotten attached to the little fellow. But what I really want from you is Devon to confess to his little stumble at the Super Bowl. You see, as long as this case isn’t settled, I’ll always be under a cloud of suspicion.”

  “That ain’t going to happen. Devon’s got nothing to do with anything.”

  “Actually, I’ve already sent all the videos to the commissioner. Every one of them, including all the people at the sidelines, both before and immediately after the interception. Someone’s been sending me cute little notes, so I’m very interested in finding out who was really behind the infamous interception.”

  “You threw it, buddy. No one made you throw it.”

  “True, but my running back stumbles, and my receiver turns away from the ball? I’ll let the commissioner study the reactions of those standing next to the team, on the field, and in your private box.”

  “It wasn’t me or my son.” Dick leaned over him and growled.

  “True, and since I’m your son too, any suspicion thrown on me goes right back to you, Papa. Now that the world knows your dirty secret.”

  “You know what? It doesn’t matter, does it? Because I have one more son, a sweet little baby, and once I get the money, me and my baby boy are going overseas—away from all this crap.”

  “Except Bret’s not your son.” Cade wished he had the blindfold off and could see Dick’s response.

  The old man sucked in a breath and sputtered, “What do you mean? I have a paternity test that says he’s mine. Just because I lent him to you, don’t get any ideas of stealing him. He’s all I have left.”

  “Then why do I have a paternity test that says he’s mine?”

  “Impossible. The boy belongs to me,” Dick said.

  “Are you admitting you had sex with Roxanne? When? What date?”

  “This is a private matter.”

  “No, it’s not, because I had sex with her too, so spit it out. When?” Desperate times called for desperate lies. Cade did a quick mental calculation. “She was my date Halloween, and then I saw her off and on for three weeks after that.”

  “You never sleep with the same woman twice. You’re lying.”

  “Oh, it worries you, doesn’t it? My sperm is younger and stronger. I beat you to the punch, didn’t I? Bret’s mine.”

  The old man paced across the room, breathing heavily. “Pick up. Pick up, you bitch. Come on, dammit.”

  “What? Calling Roxanne to get the story straight?” Cade jeered while working the bands around his wrists. He’d flexed his muscles while they’d tied him. Wherever those guys were moving the stuff, they didn’t seem to be around.

  “Hey, call me back. We have a problem.” Dick left a voicemail.

  “I’ll say we have a big problem. I bet when we get the password, there isn’t going to be any money left in the account. Mom’s double-crossed you for the last time.” Cade suppressed the deep worry that his mother was actually dead or worse. However by the way Dick acted, he truly didn’t know where she was and didn’t think she was dead.

  “You have any idea where she is?” Dick’s voice was flat. “You think she’s gone off with the money?”

  “I hope she has. I hope she’s taken all of it and is sipping piña coladas on a beach somewhere.”

  “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

  The door thudded and his footsteps disappeared down the street.

  Oh, dear God, Cade prayed. Please let Mom be okay. Let me find her before it’s too late.

  Chapter Ten

  Andie and Owen checked into a hotel room on the Las Vegas Strip. It was one of the more family oriented ones that had pictures of clowns decorating the striped walls. The cover story was that they were tourists from Nebraska, and they were supposed to spend the next day sightseeing with a smattering of gambling at different hotels and clubs, before heading to the Sparks Casino on Sunday for game night.

  “Should be fun,” Owen said, cranking up the air conditioner. “If anyone’s watching us, they won’t suspect a thing. Want to hit the buffet?”

  “I’m not sure I can stomach any food right now. Can I take a shower and order room service?”

  “Sure, we might as well turn in early then.”

  “I sure hope someone’s texted Cade to let him know I’m okay.”

  “We won’t know. No contact, remember?” Owen shook out the drapes, then pulled the mattresses aside, sweeping his fingers along the edge.

  “What are you looking for? Wires?”

  “No, bedbugs.” He chuckled nervously. “We aren’t supposed to be talking about spies and stuff.”

  “Right, got it.” Andie headed for the bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror and opened her travel kit. None of the supplies were hers. George hadn’t
allowed her to keep anything: not her purse, carry-on, suitcase, or even her wallet and identification.

  She dug through the kit. They’d included a complete set of makeup, medicines like aspirin, eye drops, and toiletries—none of the same brand she used, even a box of condoms. Andie swallowed a lump at the sight of the tampons and sanitary napkins.

  When had she used them last? Could she be? But no, she and Cade had been careful, hadn’t they? But what about before her brain injury? She had no recollection.

  Andie didn’t have to squeeze her nipples to know how overly sensitive they were. All the symptoms were there. Nausea, the bloating in her abdomen. She was pregnant. Holy submarine sandwich.

  She had to tell Cade. But how? She was on this job, and he thought she was on her way to New York. What horrible timing. She gasped and sucked in air, then blew it out, hunched over the sink. She should pull out of this sting operation. If something happened to her, it wouldn’t just be her, but the baby too.

  “Hey, Andie, I’m calling room service,” Owen said through the door. “What do you want, beef bourguignon or chicken pot pie?”

  “Chicken pot pie and a salad please with green goddess dressing.” She’d eat now and panic later.

  Her fingers itched to text Cade, but it would be no use. The phone they gave her was programmed not to allow her to text or call any number. Besides, he thought she ran off with George. By now, Roxanne and Declan were sure to have gleefully told him everything they’d witnessed, and Cade could at this very moment be hating her and throwing whatever things she left at his house into the trash can—including the ruby red slippers charm she left in the bathroom.

  He wouldn’t hurt Gollie though, but his heart would be one hundred percent broken. He might text her cell phone, or he might not. The FBI agent wouldn’t know how to respond, and it was likely he’d break up with her forever—by a text message she’d never receive.

  * * *

  Cade rubbed his face against the furniture and dislodged the strip of dirty T-shirt tied over his eyes. He blinked in the darkness and surveyed the mess around him. Someone was using this place as a drug den since paraphernalia: spoons, syringes, bands, and crinkled pieces of aluminum foil were scattered over every surface.

 

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