He checked the monitors to make sure everything in the parking area, as well as the pier, was secure. No strays hanging around. No one who might have hidden and seen his passenger disembark. In the small bathroom off the office, he pulled a bottle of aspirin out of the medicine cabinet, shook three into his hand, and swallowed them dry.
Catching sight of himself in the mirror, he thought, not bad for forty-two. Except for the recent bullet scrape and some well-worn scars, he kept himself in excellent physical shape. Looking closely, he spotted a few more grey hairs in the ponytail, and a few more lines around his eyes. But he was still at the top of his game.
Leaning back in his chair, he tried to decide if he wanted to head out for a well-deserved drink at a bar, or go home and flop down on the couch and drink his own liquor. There was no one waiting for him at home. His last relationship, like all the others, ended when his ‘friend’ decided she wanted to make the sleepovers permanent and Dino ran like a scalded-ass ape.
He had felt only minor pangs of envy when his old friend, Ethan, married Lisa Mallory. Once upon a time, Dino had wanted the same things Ethan had now. But one slipup was enough to make him realize that home and hearth would never be for him. Too dangerous. For everyone involved.
He smiled to himself, thinking about the mission Ethan had undertaken for Lisa two years ago. What a rescue and extraction that job had been, plucking Lisa's son away from drug dealers in the middle of the Mexican jungle.
When he'd given up the old life, Ethan had isolated himself at the family farm he inherited and done his best to drink himself to death. But Lisa had changed all that. Ethan had settled easily into family life, surprising everyone who knew him, both as a covert government agent and mercenary. He cleaned up his act and put his skills to use running a school for mercenaries and corporate security teams.
The huge barn about an acre behind the house had been rehabbed and turned into classrooms, an electronics center, and a huge gym. There was also a knockdown house for hostage rescue training and a state-of-the-art gun range. Dino also knew that Ethan still ‘consulted’ in certain situations, but tried to keep those to a minimum. He was mostly out of ‘the life’ now.
Lately, Dino wondered more and more what it would be like to have someone like Lisa in his life, but each time, he laughed at himself. He lived too much on the edge of danger and was too much of an adrenaline junkie to deal with a wife. He always managed to push those thoughts to the back of his mind.
He checked his answering machine for fishing charter bookings. He was rummaging through a drawer for a pencil when his private satellite phone rang.
"Yes?” He never gave his name when he answered until he knew who was at the other end.
"Hi. It's me. You up for a little trip, buddy?” Ethan's voice rumbled across the connection. Speak of the devil.
Dino dropped into the chair. “I don't know. Depends where. You offering me an all expense paid vacation with a bevy of naked broads?"
"Please.” Ethan laughed, although Dino heard the edge of strain in it. “I'm a respectable family man now. I don't deal in such debauchery."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Dino propped his feet on the desk. “So to what do I really owe the honor of this call at...” he looked at his watch, “...almost one in the morning."
"I hope you're sitting down."
"Lay it on me, Ethan. There isn't much you can say that would shock me."
"Oh yeah? Wait until you hear this."
* * * *
Tampa, Florida, Four hours earlier
The rain hadn't let up for one minute since they left the cabin in Michigan. The roads had been slick even on the super highways, and cars driving too fast had fishtailed, sending up great rooster tails of water that splashed the windshield of the van. Jen had been driving for what seemed like weeks instead of hours, every muscle in her body tense with the terror of what she'd seen, watching in her rearview mirror for any car that appeared too often, and dealing with the hazardous driving conditions.
She'd taken every precaution—on and off the interstate—that she'd learned in the life she had long ago. Driving through small towns and up and down side streets, pulling into large, crowded parking lots, and watching to see what cars came and went. Or hung around. Finally, when she was reasonably sure they didn't have a tail, she pulled back onto the interstate and headed south as fast as the speed limit would let her.
Throughout the long, desperate trip she did something she hadn't done in what seemed forever. She prayed. She was almost nauseous with fear, frightened of the men who'd killed John, wondering what the hell he'd gotten them into, and with absolutely no idea what her reception would be when she got to her destination. For all she knew, she and Deanne could be out on their asses five minutes after they got there.
She hadn't seen the man in years, had no idea what his life was like now. Did he even still live in the same place? Was there a woman in his life? Several women? That had often been his style. Was he even sober? God, what had she been thinking when she started in this direction?
Deanne. That's the only thing that had been on her mind. Safety for her daughter. And help getting these people off her back. She was smart enough to know that if they wanted to find her, there was really no place she could hide.
Except where she was going.
Thankfully, Deanne, whether from shock or exhaustion, had fallen asleep as soon as they hit the interstate. She'd slept off and on, waking whenever they stopped for food at a drive-through, eating in the car in a dark corner of the lot. Jen needed the coffee more than anything. The hamburger she'd eaten still sat like a lump of dough in her stomach. But Deanne needed food.
When she absolutely couldn't keep her eyes open any longer, she pulled off into a small town, found a cheap motel where she didn't think anyone would look for her, and crashed. But the sound of gun shots kept echoing in her head and the scene at the cabin kept shattering her dreams. Finally, when she figured out being awake was better than being asleep, she took a long cold shower to wake herself up and pulled on her clothes.
Deanne was grumpy and whiny, not unexpected, but breakfast settled her down again before they got back on the road.
Now Jen had spent the last hour winding her way through Pinellas County, following a map in her head that was more than eight years old and wondering if the man she sought would even still be around. She let out a breath when she spotted a familiar street name, following it into a more rural area. The closer she got, the more she felt as if her heart had crawled up into her throat. Maybe she should just turn around...
She slid a glance at Deanne, awake now for the past two hours but silent as a mute. Jen knew they had to talk about what happened but at the moment she had no idea where to start. How to explain the shooting while they hid in the air duct?
Her daughter had to be terrified, the silence her way of coping with the shock of what she'd seen. Well, once they got situated ... if they got situated ... she'd handle it.
Right, Jen. Just like you've handled everything else in your life.
And then there it was. The house she remembered. Only last time she'd seen it, the place had been surrounded by overgrown prairie grass and weeds and the paint had been visibly peeling. Through the spokes of a wrought iron gate, she could see the long drive to the house was paved and the grass had been cut down. A high wall surrounded the property, with a speaker box jutting out next to the gate.
Wow, Ethan. You must have made some pretty big changes in your life.
She pulled up to the gate, rolled down her window, and stuck her arm out in the pelting rain to press the button on the speaker box.
"Yes? Who is this?” The still familiar voice crackled in the storm-charged air.
"Ethan? Ethan, it's me. Jennifer. Jen LaCroix.” He wouldn't know her married name and out here in the storm wasn't the place to explain.
"Jen?” Despite the noise from the rain and the static, she could hear the shock in his voice.
If you t
hink you're shocked now, wait until you hear what I have to tell you.
"Yes. Can you open the gate and let us in?"
A brief pause. “Us? Who's with you?"
"No one who means you any harm,” she told him impatiently. “Can you just open the gate? I'm getting soaked with the window open here."
"What is it? What do you want?"
"I need to see you.” She gritted her teeth, listening to Deanne stir in the back seat. “I know it's been a long time but I wouldn't be here if it wasn't an emergency. Please, can we come in?"
Another pause. “All right. Come on ahead."
The gate swung open. Jen rolled up the window and drove slowly toward the big, rambling farmhouse. The front porch lights had come on as soon as the gate opened, and now Ethan Caine stood framed in the doorway. But as she drew up to the front steps, even through the rain, she could see it was a different Ethan Caine than she'd expected.
Like the house and the land, he'd undergone a transformation. His beard was trimmed and his hair was drawn back into a neat ponytail. He'd lost a good bit of weight and where once there had been burgeoning fat and softness, now beneath the T-shirt and jeans, she saw a hard muscular body. What the hell had happened to him?
The only thing familiar to her was the gun he held at his side.
"Mom?” Deanne had released her seat belt and slid over next to Jen. “Why does that man have a gun? Is he going to shoot someone, too?"
So she had seen something. Heard it, anyway. She hadn't said one word during the entire trip and Jen had been afraid to bring it up. All she'd wanted was to get somewhere to someone who could keep them safe.
A slender, dark-haired woman appeared behind Ethan, shoving an umbrella into his free hand and giving him a little push.
Aha! Even the wildest of the wild can be tamed, apparently.
Ethan opened the umbrella and came down to the car, walking around to the driver's side.
"Hello, Jen."
"Please put the gun away,” she told him. “You're scaring Deanne."
Shoving the gun in his pants at the small of his back, he pulled his shirt loose to cover it. He peered past her into the darkness, checking for any other movement, making sure no one had breeched the security behind her.
"We're alone,” she assured him. “Listen, can we please come inside? It's soaking wet outside and Deanne is freezing."
His eyes narrowed as he took in the child plastered to her side.
"Yours?"
"Of course,” she snapped. “And she's exhausted. Are you going to let us in?"
Ethan waited for the space of one more heartbeat, then called out, “All clear.” To Jen and Deanne he said, “Come on."
He held the umbrella while they both slid out of the car and moved under it as best they could. They made a soggy bunch as they hurried up the steps to the porch.
The dark-haired woman gave them a warm smile and held out her hands in a welcoming gesture.
"Hello. I'm Lisa Caine."
In a toneless voice, Ethan said, “Lisa, this is Jennifer LaCroix. And her daughter, Deanne. We knew each other a long time ago."
"Come in. You're soaked and I'm sure you're exhausted.” Her glance at Ethan was an I'll-talk-to-you-about-this later look.
"I'm sorry to barge in on you like this,” Jen apologized, teeth chattering, “but I just didn't know where else to go.” She tightened her arm around Deanne, who looked at Ethan with frightened eyes.
A young boy around ten years old materialized in the hallway, stationing himself close to Ethan.
"Everything okay, Dad?"
Dad?
"Everything's fine.” Ethan raked his eyes over the pair in front of him. “Well, Jen. What's going on?"
Lisa made a disgusted sound in her throat. “Ethan, for God's sake. They'll catch pneumonia if you leave them standing there like this.” She smiled at Jen. “Please let me help you into some dry clothes and get you something hot to drink."
"We have clothes in the car,” Jen protested. “I can just dash out—"
"Absolutely not. Tomorrow will be time enough. I think I can outfit the two of you just fine for now."
"T-That would be wonderful. Thank you. I apologize—"
Lisa waved a hand at her. “Later.” She smiled at the boy. “This is our son, Jamie. Honey, go to your room and get a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from the pile of last year's clothes we just cleaned out.” She gave Jennifer an assessing look. “I think you and I are about the same size. We can make do."
Deanne held tight to Jen's hand as they followed Lisa down a short hallway to one of the guest bedrooms. Jen remembered this room as one with its own bath but it certainly bore no resemblance to its former appearance. Green and white striped wallpaper covered two walls and the king-sized bed sported a matching comforter. A chair in solid green sat next to a little table in one corner. Jen tried to keep from staring.
Lisa caught her eye. “You've been here before."
"Once.” Jen wet her lips. “A long time ago."
"It's all right.” The warm smile appeared again. “I know Ethan had a life before he and I were married.” She turned as Jamie came into the room. “Here's something for your daughter.” She took the folded clothes the boy handed her, then pulled towels out of the narrow linen closet. “I think a hot shower would do you both good. By the time you're finished, I'll have something laid out on the bed for you."
"But you don't even know anything about us,” Jennifer protested. “How can you be so calm with two complete strangers? Doesn't Ethan ... I mean, hasn't Ethan..."
Lisa smiled. “Ethan said you knew each other a long time ago. He let you in the house and didn't shoot you. That's good enough for me."
"This is really an awkward situation,” Jen blurted out, stroking Deanne's damp hair. “I didn't expect ... I don't know what I expected."
"Well,” Lisa grinned, “unless you're here trying to steal my husband it doesn't matter."
"Nothing like that.” Jen let out the breath she'd been holding. “We really need Ethan's help with something. We're in big trouble."
She watched Lisa study them, as if trying to see beyond their skin. After a moment, Lisa nodded. “If he can do anything, I know he will. Listen, we can talk later.” Lisa looked at the child who was clinging to her mother like a barnacle. “Hot shower, then a hot drink. Do you prefer coffee or tea?"
"Tea with a little brandy, if that's all right."
"No problem."
Jen let Deanne shower first, checking frequently to make sure the seven-year-old was all right. Then she wrapped her in one of the big towels and sat her on the closed lid of the commode while she took her own shower. She stood under the hot water, trying to assess the situation she'd walked into. Her memories of Ethan were nearly eight years old, and seeing him with his act cleaned up, married to an extraordinary woman with a son who obviously worshiped him was a shocker.
Ethan hadn't been married when Jen had known him eight years ago. Maybe Jamie was Lisa's son by another man. Or, maybe Ethan had been with Lisa before Jen knew him, but they'd parted, then ended up back together. Jen didn't know and was too exhausted to try to sort it out. However it had come about, Ethan Caine was the last man she'd ever expect to settle down, but apparently he thrived on it. And there was no mistaking the fact he was very much in love with his wife. Jen realized just what a shallow imitation of this she'd had with John, and wondered if she'd ever have one more chance to catch the brass ring like Ethan did. Was there someone out there who would accept her as she was, as Lisa apparently did with Ethan, and love her and Deanne?
She might have stayed under the water until it turned ice cold if Deanne hadn't called to ask her if she was ever going to be finished. She dried hastily and they dressed in their borrowed clothes. They were just walking into the kitchen when she heard Ethan's low voice, the words indistinguishable. Then Lisa asked, “Really? I wonder how she found you. Could she have contacted someone you're working with now? Would she
even know who to call?"
"Since Ethan apparently hasn't mentioned it, he brought me here once, years ago. Ethan, do you remember?"
They both turned at the sound of her voice, wearing identical startled looks.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop. Anyway, I guess my brain just remembered how to get here.” She looked around the room. “I must say the place bears little resemblance to what I saw then. I guess you get the congrats for that, Lisa."
"Actually, it was a joint operation.” Lisa looked up at him and smiled. “We work well together."
This is an extraordinary woman, Jen thought. I could never handle this the way she is.
"Thanks for the clothes, by the way.” She felt uncomfortable wearing clothes from Ethan's wife but the woman was so gracious she could hardly make an issue of it.
"Well, the outfits won't make a fashion statement,” Lisa grinned, “but at least they aren't soaking wet. In the morning we'll get your stuff out of your car. I made some hot tea and spiked it with Ethan's best brandy. And I've got hot chocolate for ... Deanne, is it?"
"Yes.” Jen hugged her daughter close to her. “Sweetie, Mommy has to talk privately with Mr. Caine and his wife. Okay?” She looked at Ethan. “Would it be possible for your son to find something to occupy Deanne for a while? Maybe a video game or something? She's pretty good at them, even at her age."
Ethan and Lisa looked at their son, a signal passing among them.
Jamie had obviously learned his cues a long time ago. He pushed back his chair and stood up. “Sure. Come on,” he said to Deanne. “You like video games? I've got some cool ones I can show you."
"No, Mom.” Deanne pushed herself even closer to her mother's body. “I want to stay in here with you. Please.” She clung as if her life depended on it.
Jen disengaged her arms and kissed her forehead. “It will be all right, honey. Nothing bad is going to happen here. I told you when I decided to come here that Mr. Caine could protect us and he will. I just have to talk to him and tell him what happened, okay?"
Last Ride on the Merry-go-round Page 2
