Find Me (The Donovan Family Book 3)

by Margaret Watson

  "Thanks for putting our stuff in the dryer," he said. He noticed she wore her coat and frowned. "You going to work?"

  "To the grocery store. If you're all going to be here a while, I need to stock up."

  "Hold off on that, okay? It's better to send one of us. Someone who has a gun."

  "So you can have a shoot out in the produce section?" She raised her eyebrows. "Or maybe chase a bad guy down the soft-drink aisle?"

  "You think this is funny, Mom?" An all-too-familiar exasperation at their stubborn mother rose inside him. "This is dangerous. The guy we're after killed an FBI agent."

  "I know it's dangerous. But why would anyone look for me in a grocery store?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "For that matter, who would look for you at your mother's house?"

  This wouldn't be the first place they'd look, but it wouldn't be the last, either. "Fine, Ma. Go to the grocery story. But be careful."

  "Mia should be here soon. She's coming over after her shift." His mother smiled. "I'm not going to leave your Lizzy surrounded by men. She needs some women to balance things out."

  "She's not my..." Actually, that's exactly how he thought about Lizzy. "She's tougher than you think."

  "Tough or not, women need other women when there's a crisis."

  "I'm not sure I want you here, Mom. Maybe I'll send you somewhere safe."

  Rose narrowed her eyes. "Go ahead and try, boyo."

  "Fine. Go to the grocery store. We'll figure things out while you're gone."

  "I'll be back soon. Try not to beat each other to a pulp while I'm gone." She poked her finger at Mac. "You take care of that young woman. Help her down the stairs. Make sure she ices that ankle. She needs you."

  He wished. Lizzy was a competent, smart woman who didn't appear to need anyone. "I will, Mom." He kissed her again and squeezed her hands. "Drive carefully."

  Ever since their father had been killed, it was the last thing the Donovan children said to their mother before she left the house. It was as if the words were a magic shield that would protect her from every bad driver out there.

  A flicker of sorrow filled Rose's eyes, and she nodded. "I always do."

  Mac stuck his head into the dining room. "Would one of you losers walk Mom to her car?"

  "Sure." Connor stood up, and Mac headed toward the stairs with their clothes. Franny sat on the dining room floor next to Brendan, staring intently at his youngest brother. Mac knew what that look on a dog's face meant. "You better not let Lizzy catch you feeding her dog," he said as he started up the stairs. "She'll kick your ass."

  "Did you see me feeding the dog?" Brendan demanded. "No, you did not." He smiled, looking far too pleased with himself. "You're just jealous because the mutt picked me instead of fawning over you."

  "Franny the only female who's fawned over you recently, Bren? Not something I'd be spreading around.."

  "Hey, FBI, I don't have to use my badge to get a woman."

  Mac glanced over his shoulder. "Then what does it for you, Bren? It's sure not your sparkling personality."

  "I don't need a sparkling personality. I've got a big swinging d..."

  "Brendan Donovan, watch your mouth." Rose stuck her head out of the kitchen. "And Cormac, stop needling your brother.

  "Needling?" Mac said. "I'm just filling in some blanks for him."

  As the back door closed behind Rose and Connor, Brendan said, "Not only do I have a big one, I know how to use it, too. Unlike you, dickwad."

  Mac turned away before Brendan could see him laugh. Brendan always wanted the last word. Maybe it was because, as the youngest brother, he'd so seldom come out victorious when they were kids.

  He waited until he heard the back door close, then continued up the stairs. He found Lizzy in the bedroom, sitting on the bed. "What's wrong?" she asked.

  "Nothing." Was he that transparent? Could she tell he was worried? He forced a smile. "Brendan just had the last word. Pisses me off."

  "Was someone...is there a problem?" She twined her fingers together as she watched anxiously.

  Did she think the killer had found them? He dropped onto the bed beside her. "No problem at all." Instead of taking her hand, he fumbled with their clothes, setting hers on her lap. "My brother was just giving me shit."

  "Why?" Lizzy paused, her clothes in her hands, to stare at him. "Is he upset with you? Is he okay?"

  "Course he is." He pulled his tee-shirt off, watching Lizzy study his chest. When a faint blush rose in her face, he stood and moved away from her. If she kept looking at him like she wanted to devour him, he was going to touch her. If he did, he wouldn't be able to focus on anything but Lizzy.

  He cleared his throat. "You have a brother. Don't you joke around with him? Pull his strings? Doesn't he do the same thing to you?"

  "No," she said softly. "He's several years older than me, and we've drifted apart. He blames me..." She cleared her throat. "We don't see very much of each other."

  "That's too bad," he said, resisting the urge to smooth away the sadness on her face.

  "Yeah." She lifted one shoulder. "I've tried to fix it, but..."

  He curled his fingers into his palms to keep from reaching for her. "I have lots of experience when it comes to dealing with brothers," he said with a smile. "I'll give you some pointers."

  When would he give her those pointers? When they'd figured out who'd killed Kelly? When she was safe again?

  Lizzy might not want anything to do with him then. He'd be a reminder of a three-month-long nightmare. She might walk away and not look back.

  He shot to his feet when she reached for the towel knotted between her breasts. "I'll let you get dressed." Images flashed in his brain – Lizzy letting the towel slide to her waist. Tugging it over her hips. Him, helping her into her clothes. Letting his fingers linger on her back, her sides, her belly.

  Forgetting everything except for Lizzy and the feel of her in his arms.

  He grabbed his clothes, crushing them in his fist. "I need a shower. Come downstairs when you're done," he said, his tongue thick. "We'll have breakfast. You're probably starving. I'll make eggs. Or something."

  Lame. He pulled the door shut with a click. He was totally lame. Lizzy made him forget every bit of his game.

  He took the fastest shower in the history of showers, then clattered down the stairs. His brothers were still in the dining room.

  "Where's Lizzy?" Brendan asked, slouched in a chair with a mug of coffee.

  "Getting dressed." Mac headed for the kitchen. He needed coffee. Bad.

  "You didn't stick around to help her?" Bren asked, a smirk in his voice. "I guess you don't know how to use your d..."

  "Suck it, Brendan." Mac whirled to face his brother, his hands already balled into fists. "Better yet, suck this." He raised his fist, and Connor stepped between them.

  "Take it easy, man." He shoved Mac toward the kitchen, scowling over his shoulder at Brendan. "Ignore the punk. He's just jealous you have a hot girlfriend who has a cool dog. He wants to be like you when he grows up."

  "Lizzy's not my girlfriend," Mac said, shrugging off his brother's hands and turning his back on both brothers. "She's a witness in a huge case and she needs protection. That's all."

  "Whatever you say." Connor clapped him on the back. "But I've seen the way you look at her. Never seen a Fibbie look at a witness that way before."

  Mac reached for a mug and poured a cup of coffee with hands that shook. "Not what you think. She just needs..."

  "I need what, Mac?"

  He spun to see Lizzy standing in the door to the kitchen. How much of his conversation with Connor had she heard? "Tea," he blurted out. "I was telling Con that you need tea, not coffee."

  Her eyes softened and she smiled. "You remembered."

  His brother shifted his feet, looked from him to Lizzy, then looked away. "Yeah. Right. That's what we were talking about." He scanned the cabinets frantically. "Ah, Mom has tea here somewhere."

  Mac opened a cabinet so hard the
handle crashed into the next cabinet. Where would his mother keep the damn tea?

  "I don't think we have time for tea," Lizzy said. "Shouldn't we leave?" She glanced from Mac to his brother. "The longer we stay, the more likely it is that someone will show up here. I don't want your family caught up in my problems."

  "It's okay, Lizzy." He turned around to face her, unable to stop himself from touching her arm when he saw the worry and fear on her face. "We have to have food. Better to do it here, with three armed cops."

  "He just doesn't want Bren and me to get the bacon Mom left for you," Connor said.

  "Yeah, there's that, too." He swung around and opened another cabinet. "Con, put some water on while I find the tea."

  "It's right there." Lizzy moved behind him, steadied herself with a hand on his back and reached into the cabinet. "British Breakfast," she said as she grabbed it. "Perfect."

  "Great. That's good." Her fingertips burned into his skin, even through his shirt. He eased the door closed, unwilling to dislodge Lizzy's hand from his back. But she let it drop and backed up.

  "I'll check on Franny."

  "Okay. Good. I'll bring the tea out when the water boils."

  "Thanks, Mac." Her voice was breathless. A little hoarse. She stared at him for a long moment, then turned and disappeared into the next room.

  "You've got it bad, man," Con said in a low voice. "Total sap-fest in here."

  Afraid his brother was right, Mac ignored him and took a plate of bacon out of the oven. As he headed into the dining room, he found Lizzy sitting next to Brendan, Franny between them. She had an air cast on her ankle, and a pair of crutches leaned against the wall. She was talking to Brendan as she petted Franny, and her voice was animated.

  Brendan glanced at Mac and smirked. Mac raised his middle finger, then set the bacon on the table in front of Lizzy. "What else would you like to eat?" he asked her. "Toast? An English muffin?"

  "Muffin sounds good." She twisted in her chair and smiled at him. "Thanks."

  Yeah, Connor was right. He was in trouble. One polite smile, a thanks for breakfast, and his heart was thundering. "Got it."

  ***

  A half-hour later, Lizzy jiggled her foot as she finished off her tea. Breakfast had congealed into a heavy lump in her stomach. They needed to leave. Now. They'd put Mac's mother and brothers in terrible danger.

  But as she and Mac had eaten, instead of focusing on their problem and making a plan, Mac and his brothers had exchanged insults, called each other names and tried their best to get under each other's skins.

  She'd been horrified at Mac's first jab at Brendan, but Brendan had fired right back at him. As she'd watched, her head swiveling back and forth, she'd realized that their jokes and insults hid a real closeness.

  A closeness she and her brother hadn't shared for a long time. After their father died, a chasm had opened between them.

  Sorrow for her relationship with her brother jumbled with envy of Mac's family. But as much fun as it was to watch them interact, she couldn't still her jiggling foot. Couldn't calm her twanging nerves. Every minute they stayed here put Mac's family in an impossible position.

  What if someone came here, looking for her? Everyone would be in the line of fire.

  Her hand shaking, she reached to pet Franny, lying on the floor between her and Brendan. The dog whined softly as she nosed Lizzy's hand, sensing her distress. "Mac, we need to leave," she said.

  "About that..." He looked from Connor to Brendan. "You guys still good with our plan?"

  "I'm in," Connor said. "Talked to the captain, told him I was taking a few personal days to help my brother. Told him Mia and Quinn would be taking time, too."

  "Mom said Mia was coming over after shift."

  "Captain wanted to know which brother needed help," Connor said, nudging Mac with his elbow. "I'm guessing he hoped it was you. He loves helping the Fibbies."

  "Right." Mac rolled his eyes. "That captain of yours doesn't know how to play nice. After Kelly died, we needed a crowbar to pry the case away from him. He's like a dog who has to piss on every fire hydrant on his block."

  "Yeah, he's territorial, like most good cops, but this time, he was okay. Told us to take whatever time we needed. Said to ask if we needed anything."

  "Anyone sniffing around the precinct?"

  "Nope."

  "Mine, either," said Brendan.

  Lizzy felt like she was watching a tennis match as she listened to Mac and his brothers. Finally she interrupted. "What's this plan?" Lizzy asked.

  "We're going to stay right here," Mac said. He didn't quite meet her gaze. "Mia will be here soon, and I'm sure Quinn and Tessa will show up, too. Quinn is Connor's twin, and Tessa is his girlfriend. Between the five of us, we can keep watch."

  "What?" Horrified, Lizzy looked from Mac to his brothers. "No! I thought we were just spending the night, then going somewhere else. We can't stay here. If your brother and his girlfriend and your sister show up, I'd be putting your whole family in danger."

  "Everyone in my family is a cop, Lizzy. This is what we do."

  "Don't patronize me, Mac," she said, fear roiling her stomach. She couldn't be responsible for someone else's family member getting hurt. Or worse.

  He sighed. "For God's sake, Lizzy. Calm down. We have a plan, okay? You haven't even heard it yet."

  "I heard enough. Enough to know that having me stay here is dangerous for all of you. How am I supposed to live with that?"

  Mac shoved his hand through his hair. "Finish your breakfast," he said wearily. "Brendan, you get the computer and the rest of the stuff?"

  "Mia dropped it off earlier this morning, along with the air cast and crutches." Brendan grinned at Lizzy. "She wanted to stick around, because as Mac's only sister, she considers it her duty to grill you. She was still working, though. Said she'd catch you later."

  Grill her? Catch her later? She studied Mac, looked for a reaction, but apparently he thought it was normal.

  She should be offended that Mac's sister wanted to question her. Instead, a lump swelled in her throat. The Donovan siblings had each other's back. No questions asked. Brendan and Connor had stayed here all night to protect them. His sister had gone out of her way to bring Mac equipment he needed.

  And an air cast and crutches for her, a woman she didn't know.

  The Donovans were nothing like her family, but this was what families should be like. This closeness. This love.

  Her presence in this house could destroy all of that.

  The hollowness inside her chest ached. She'd had a family like this once, too. Until she'd destroyed it.

  Her foot throbbed in time with her pounding heart. "I can't do this, Mac. I can't stay here. I'd never forgive myself if another person died protecting me."

  She stood and hobbled to the window, studying the quiet street. "I have to leave. Right now."

  Chapter 19

  A pair of hands settled on Lizzy's shoulders. Mac. His scent wrapped around her like the security blanket she'd treasured as a child.

  "Hey, babe, it'll be all right," he murmured, his voice soft enough that no one else would hear him.

  "Don't 'babe' me," she muttered. But instead of shaking his hands loose from her shoulders, she leaned into him. It felt as though all his strength, all his confidence poured from his body into hers. For a moment, she thought maybe everything would be all right.

  They'd find the killer and arrest him. She'd get her life back. The Donovans would be safe. She and Mac would live happily ever after.

  Except she knew 'happily-ever-after' was an illusion.

  "I know you're scared and worried about my family. I get that," he said, his breath tickling her ear and raising goosebumps. "But with a little luck, this will be over fast and you'll be free."

  His hands dropped from her shoulders, and she wanted to snatch them back. Before she could reach for him, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

  "Sit down with me and we'll share our plan. At
least hear us out before you take off."

  She didn't believe for a moment that he'd let her run. He'd sweet talk her into staying. Or he'd argue with her, using logic until she caved. She suspected Mac could talk her into almost anything. She took a deep, shuddering breath, let it out slowly.

  And maybe she wanted him to talk her out of it. Maybe it was time to stop running. It felt as if she'd been doing that since the day her father died.

  "Okay," she said. "Tell me this plan."

  "Thank you," he said, dropping a kiss on the crown of her head.

  She glanced toward the dining room, to see if his brothers were watching, but they were setting up a computer and what looked like a video recorder.

  "Come on," Mac said, steering her toward his brothers at the dining room table. He pulled out a chair and eased her into it, but he didn't move away. He stood behind her chair, massaging her shoulders, brushing his fingers across her nape, as if he couldn't bear to move. As if he needed to be connected to her.

  "Okay, guys, you ready to roll?" Mac asked.

  "Give me another minute to get the recorder set up," Connor said.

  "Why do we need the video recorder? I already gave my statement at the FBI office that night." Lizzy glanced over her shoulder at Mac, whose attention was focused on Connor. His hands were still on her shoulders, though. Was he reassuring himself that she was still there?

  "Here's the deal," Mac said. He squeezed her shoulders once more, and let his hands drop away. He swung a chair around and sat on it, resting his hands on the back. "Since we don't know who's behind Kelly's murder, everything that happened that night at the office is suspect. Is Rhodes, the agent who questioned you, involved?" He shrugged. "I have no idea, but if she was, she would have slanted her questions. So I'm going to start from scratch. I want this case to be iron-clad. No questions from the ADA about chain of custody, about leading the witness, about your demeanor."

  He nodded toward the computer. "Brendan got a department computer from his precinct. He's a narcotics and vice detective, and it's one they use for undercover operations. It's clean. Also untraceable, in case anyone's trying to track it." He spun his chair around so it faced the table, and tapped his fingers as he waited for the laptop to boot up. "I'm connecting to my computer at the office. I have office pictures on it – a few parties, a softball game, a picnic. I want you to look at them and see if you spot the killer."