Into Thin Air

by Karen Leabo

  He obliged, although it was sweet torture holding her warmth against him, smelling the delicate scent of her hair, feeling her breathe. He stroked her hair and didn’t even try to suppress the passionate thoughts that assailed him. Such thoughts had predictable biological results, and he hoped she noticed. He wanted her to know exactly what she did to him. She could stop him from telling her how he felt, but there were some things Caro and a whole SWAT team couldn’t stop.

  “Better?” he asked after a minute or two.

  “Yes, much. I think I can walk now.” She took a deep breath and let it out in a loud puff. “Let’s see if we can track down Travis Beaman’s hunting lease. I’ll bet Sheriff Fowles can find it. And then I’ll take you up on lunch. My treat, though. I owe you one.”

  When they got outside, Austin noticed for the first time that day how gorgeous the weather was—not too cold or windy, with the sky an unimpeachable blue. A billboard over the highway admonished drive-by football fans to cheer for the Cowboys, and he realized that he had no idea whether America’s team had made it to the playoffs.

  He opened the Bronco’s passenger door and handed Caro inside. She didn’t seem to mind his occasional show of gallantry, and he liked that about her. He’d once thought she might be a tad defensive about her femininity because of the way she dressed and her tough facade, but he’d come to realize that that was just Caro. She dressed for comfort, she wore makeup if she felt like it and she didn’t take crap from anyone, man or woman.

  Now, if he could just get her femininity to respond to him....

  He climbed in and stuck his key in the ignition.

  “Hey, Austin, before we go back to work...”

  “Yeah?”

  “I never even thanked you for coming to rescue me.”

  “I lost you. It was my duty to find you,” he said simply. “Anyway, it wasn’t much of a rescue.”

  “It was more than duty. You tried to tell me, and I cut you off at the knees. All I offered you were smart-ass quips. I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head. “No apology necessary. We were both under a lot of strain.” He reached for the ignition again, but she laid her bandaged hand over his and stopped him.

  “I’m trying to get something going here,” she said. “A little heart-to-heart discussion, you know?”

  Austin pulled his hand away. He couldn’t think clearly with her touching him. “Will you hear me out this time?”

  “Yes.”

  And was he really ready to risk getting blown out of the water again? He’d already reconciled himself to the fact that Caro wasn’t ready for a relationship...not with him, anyway. Now she was getting his hopes up again. To stall, he asked, “What made you change your mind?”

  “Oh, I’m feeling different about a lot of things,” she said breezily, although he sensed an underlying tension. “Maybe I’m simply in the mood to take a chance.”

  “But maybe I’m not in the mood,” he ventured, perversely intending for his words to sting a bit. But then he softened and added, “You can’t just expect me to blurt out something that personal on the spur of the moment.”

  “Okay, then I’ll do the blurting. You were right when you said there’s such a thing as a calculated risk. You’re starting to grow on me, Lomax. The more time I spend with you, the stronger my attraction gets. And even though the odds are against us, I think we’d be crazy to ignore this...thing that’s sprung up between us.”

  Austin was speechless. All right, so it wasn’t the prettiest declaration of feelings he’d ever heard, but it was a damn sight more than he ever expected to hear from Caro Triece’s lips.

  She stared at him defiantly, arms crossed. “Okay, it’s your turn.”

  “Right.” He tugged at the neck of his shirt, which suddenly felt too tight. This might be the only chance he had to make her understand, and he’d better get it right. “Bottom line? When I thought I might never see you alive again, my guts were twisted inside out. I knew then that I was starting to care for you way too much. But there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

  He’d intended to be a little more poetic when he told her how he felt. But apparently whatever he’d said had worked. She went all misty-eyed on him. Before he could do the same, he slipped his hand under her hair to the nape of her neck and pulled her to him.

  The kiss was long and hard and, for once, not tinged with guilt or hesitation or regret. When they came up for air, he pressed his cheek against her hair and inhaled deeply. The fragrance of her hair would forever be burned into his memory.

  “When you move back over to CAPERS, what would you think about me as a partner?” Austin said. God, was he crazy? Talking about work at a time like this? “Frank Feldman is retiring, you know.”

  “Who said anything about CAPERS?”

  “You didn’t have to. You’re in that risk-taking mode. Besides, you didn’t tell Chief Raines no.”

  She pulled back and looked at him, indecision playing around her face. “Okay, you caught me. I’m thinking about it. But you’d actually want to partner with me? And also spend time with me when we’re off duty? Don’t you think we might get sick of each other?”

  “Not in a million years.” He kissed her again, and she surrendered to it. He knew he had a long, hard battle ahead of him. But this first step had been the hardest. Now that she’d forgiven herself for Charlie Northcutt’s death, it was like watching a dormant flower suddenly turn toward the sun and bloom. She was reaching out for what she wanted in life, what she deserved—including love. And he was just the one to give it to her. He would spend the rest of his life convincing her that some risks were worth taking.

  Epilogue

  The mild March day was perfect for a wedding. The bride, flouting public knowledge, wore a dress of frothy white lace that did a good job of hiding the slight outward curve of her tummy. The groom, looking flushed and eager, tugged at the collar of his starched shirt with one hand while holding the bride’s hand in a death grip with the other. The maid of honor stood stiffly next to the bride in a pink taffeta dress, her hair tortured into unaccustomed curls.

  The father of the bride grinned like a chimpanzee. Having just walked his daughter down the aisle, his biggest part in the show was over. He sat in the first pew of the chapel, as relaxed and happy as anyone had seen him in a long time.

  Caro sat toward the back, willing herself not to cry and make a fool of herself. She wasn’t normally a sentimental soul. She’d never been one to watch a sad movie more than once or get misty-eyed over Kodak commercials. But lately it took almost nothing to set her off.

  She supposed she had Austin to thank for that. Over the last couple of months he had courted her relentlessly. And, unlike most men she’d dated, he wouldn’t be satisfied with dinners and movies and great sex, either. He always wanted to talk. He’d forced her to discuss her feelings, to reveal parts of her psyche that had been hidden even from herself. She’d uncovered raw emotions she’d never known existed. She’d covered the full spectrum of human feeling. Stripped of the protective shell she’d worn most of her life, she felt everything more deeply.

  She supposed she was in love.

  Sometimes her new outlook on life felt wonderful, and sometimes it was a damned nuisance. Like now, she thought as she sniffed into a tissue. Why couldn’t she just enjoy the exchange of vows between Amanda Arkin and Scott Humphrey, instead of sniveling like a ninny?

  Oh, but the wedding was sweet! They were just a couple of kids, totally unprepared for married life. They both were in school and neither had any visible means of support other than their parents. But their love for each other and for their unborn child demanded nothing less than this public, legal declaration.

  A couple of months ago, Caro would have said the marriage didn’t have a chance in hell. But maybe it did. Amanda and Scott were two strong, good people who were willing to take a calculated risk. And, as Caro had recently learned, sometimes calculated risks paid off.

  Austin’s
arm stole around her shoulders, and she placed one gloved hand on his knee. This was the first time she and Austin had appeared together in public as a couple, although they’d been seeing each other for almost two months. For a while she’d wanted to hold their relationship to herself and savor it, fearful that under public scrutiny it might tarnish. And Austin had indulged her. Neither of them was particularly anxious to become fodder for the police department grapevine, anyway.

  But she’d just discovered that she was inordinately proud to be seen with Austin, to acknowledge him as her man. For him she’d worn a feminine, silky dress she wouldn’t be caught dead in at work, and he was in a suit with a tie and everything. They made a damn fine-looking couple, even if she did say so herself.

  The Beamans’ false imprisonment trial was scheduled for the following month in Clemson County. Odell would be tried separately—in Dallas, thank goodness—for the kidnappings, because apparently Henry had never taken part in that activity. But he would have his own day in court, and it wouldn’t be pretty. Sheriff Fowles and his men had found four decaying bodies in an abandoned well on Travis Beaman’s hunting lease. Everyone was confident about convictions.

  Terri Zamasko had taken refuge with the Arkins as soon as she and her baby were released from the hospital. Her father had made no attempt to get her to come home, which was fine with everyone. She’d found a job at a day-care center, where she could keep Sally with her, and she was planning to move into her own apartment in a few days. At night she was studying for her GED.

  Probably one of the saddest consequences of the whole Beaman affair was the fate of Chloe Krill. It had taken tremendous courage for her to come forward, knowing she was risking the loss of her adopted son, and what she had feared most had come to pass. Marcy Phelps’s parents had decided they wanted to raise Justin themselves. The baby was their last physical tie to their beloved daughter. And though they felt sorry for the Krills, they had sued for custody. Two of the other three babies Odell had sold were involved in similar situations.

  As if that weren’t enough for poor Chloe, the State had filed criminal charges against her and Don for purchasing a child. Chloe had also initiated divorce proceedings.

  That thought made Caro sob into her tissue, and Austin squeezed her shoulder. He leaned over and whispered, “You marshmallow, you.”

  She didn’t even argue with him. Maybe she was getting soft in her old age. But she’d come to the conclusion that “soft” wasn’t such a bad state to be in. She could still interrogate a suspect, as she’d proved several times over the past couple of weeks since her transfer to CAPERS—Robbery Division, this time around. But she found a measure of understanding for the men from whom she’d wrenched confessions. She’d fine-tuned her ability to put herself in another person’s place, to walk in his shoes. If anything, this made her more skilled in her dealing with the seamy underworld she regularly encountered.

  She left the homicides to Austin, figuring it was best if she didn’t tread on his territory. He’d certainly become more humble after the kidnapping ordeal, but he still had a male ego. If they were going to make a go of this relationship thing, she instinctively knew it was best if they didn’t compete at work.

  The organist started up the recessional hymn, and Scott and Amanda marched triumphantly down the aisle, all smiles. Terri followed, teetering precariously in her unfamiliar high heels, but the groomsman walking next to her steadied her just when she would have pitched head over heels, and she gave him an embarrassed smile.

  As soon as the wedding party had passed, the guests began filing out of the pews. Caro started to make her move, but Austin held her back. He sat back down and patted the spot next to him.

  “No hurry,” he said. “They’ll probably be taking pictures for the next half hour, anyway. So, what do you think about this church? Kinda nice and old-fashioned, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” she agreed cautiously.

  “I don’t know, but there’s something about a wedding that makes me want to run out and buy a ring. You really like this church?”

  Caro’s heart banged around in her chest like a ricocheting bullet. “It’s nice,” she said, her voice shaking. “But I think they only let Catholics get married in a Catholic church.”

  “Oh. Well, so much for that idea. Come on, let’s go get drunk on free champagne.”

  Caro already felt drunk. Austin was actually thinking about marriage! Oh, he wasn’t really ready to jump in with both feet. He was just testing the waters with one tentative toe, and he’d found them to be pretty chilly. But Caro hadn’t said, “No way, you’re out of your gourd.” And judging from the mischievous smile on Austin’s face, that fact hadn’t escaped him.

  * * * * *

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-8710-5

  Into Thin Air

  Copyright © 1995 by Karen Leabo

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