by Karen Rose
Clay turned around to see Stevie standing on the deck, leaning heavily on her cane. Looking none too pleased. ‘What’s going on?’ Stevie asked.
He helped her to the dock, holding her elbow until she had her footing. ‘It was a drill.’
‘A drill,’ she repeated flatly.
‘I didn’t know. I swear I wouldn’t have frightened you that way.’
‘It’s okay.’ Stevie eyed Lou, who was kicking off her flippers. ‘And this is?’
Lou stepped forward, her expression coolly distant. ‘I’m Sheriff Moore. This is Deputy Pearson.’ Nell Pearson, a blonde who looked to be in her mid-forties, stood off to the side, saying nothing. There was no move to shake hands on the part of any of the women.
Clay wanted to hit something but settled for rolling his eyes again instead. ‘Lou, you and your deputy need to get into warm clothes. Change in the boathouse. Just don’t touch anything.’
Lou’s eyes narrowed. ‘Fine. We have dry clothes in our pack.’
His father handed Lou a thermos. ‘I made you some coffee to take off the edge.’
Lou leaned up to kiss his cheek. ‘Thanks, Tanner. Can you give Guthrie a call? Tell him we made it and to bring the boat in to pick us up.’
‘Who’s Guthrie?’ Stevie asked. She was studying Lou, her expression deceptively mild.
‘Her other deputy,’ Clay said.
Stevie maintained her mild facade, her voice remaining level. Cordial, even. But the flash of anger in her eyes gave her away. ‘Hell of a lot of people know about our secret hideout, Clay.’
Lou stopped in her tracks. When she turned, her expression mirrored Stevie’s. When she spoke, her tone was equally mild. Had this situation been happening to someone else, Clay might have laughed. But it was happening to him and all he wanted was to make it stop.
‘Detective Mazzetti, I’ve been asked to provide assistance and backup. My deputies will be part of that assistance in any way I deem fit. But for the record, Deputy Guthrie doesn’t know you and your daughter exist, let alone are being hidden here. I certainly didn’t expect you to be standing out in the open, especially after yesterday’s events.’
Stevie straightened her spine and Clay closed his eyes. ‘Lou,’ he murmured, ‘don’t.’
‘Don’t what?’ Lou asked acidly. ‘Don’t make sense? Two people died yesterday when a sniper fired on you, Detective. Your daughter was nearly gunned down in your own front yard. A cop died while taking your place in a safe house last night. How do you know you’re not being targeted at this very moment? How do you know you’re not putting all of us at risk?’
Twin flags of scarlet stained Stevie’s cheeks, her body so rigid it was a miracle she didn’t shatter into pieces. ‘I suppose I don’t. I apologize, Sheriff Moore.’
‘I don’t think I’m the one you should apologize to. But thank you anyway. You have a few more minutes before Deputy Guthrie arrives, if you’d like to take cover. Seems like locking the barn door after the horse is stolen, but if it makes you feel better, you just go right ahead.’
Clay exhaled wearily. Lou hadn’t just infuriated Stevie, she’d embarrassed her, too. And that last crack was just plain snide. ‘Lou, back off. I assured Detective Mazzetti that she and her daughter were safe here. Nobody’s getting close enough to target anybody. The test of the underwater surveillance was a success, so we’re done. Let’s all retreat to our respective corners.’
He expected Stevie to make her exit, but she didn’t move. She also didn’t say a word, and that worried him. ‘You okay?’ he murmured.
She nodded silently and it was then he noticed that she was standing upright, her cane tucked behind her, and he understood. Any direction she chose to retreat presented obstacles, and she didn’t want Lou and her deputy to see her stumble. But Lou didn’t realize it and wouldn’t, if he had anything to say about it.
‘Lou, we can talk when you’re not shivering. Go change into dry clothes.’
Lou gave him a pitying look, like he was the stupidest man alive. But she changed her tone, sounding professional. Finally. ‘I’ll bring the boat tomorrow morning at five A.M. You have the child ready and I’ll assume responsibility for transport.’
Clay winced. He’d intended to share his plans with Stevie when they were on his dad’s boat, but then she touched him and . . . Who could blame him for forgetting? He’d nearly forgotten his own name. He glanced at Stevie, who stared up at him, stunned. And even angrier than before.
Obviously she could, and did, blame him for forgetting.
‘The child?’ she hissed through clenched teeth. ‘Which child? My child? What the hell?’
Lou actually looked repentant. ‘I didn’t know she didn’t know. I’ll go change now.’
‘Yeah, you go do that,’ Clay muttered. ‘Hell.’
‘I’m waiting, Clay,’ Stevie said quietly when the boathouse door closed behind Lou.
He inclined his head toward her, not surprised when she leaned back, away from him. ‘Let’s talk about this privately. I’ll explain.’
A throat was cleared delicately. Deputy Pearson had been standing off to the side, looking very uncomfortable. ‘I don’t mean to intrude,’ she said. ‘Detective Mazzetti, I won’t reveal your presence here to anyone. I have a child of my own and I can only imagine what you’ve been through in the last twenty-four hours. You can depend on my discretion.’
‘Thank you,’ Stevie said. ‘I appreciate it.’
Pearson looked at Clay. ‘My vote was to tell you about the drill, but your father and the sheriff overruled me. Lou didn’t know you hadn’t had time to brief the detective on your plans.’ She smiled at him ruefully. ‘It’s good to finally meet you, although I wish the circumstances had been different. Your dad has told me so much about you, I feel like I know you already. Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I’m going to get out of this suit because I can’t feel my toes anymore.’
The moment the boathouse door closed behind Pearson, Stevie pivoted on the heel of her good leg and started walking down the dock toward the house.
‘If you want to yell at me,’ Clay said, ‘it’s better to do it on the boat. Cordelia won’t hear.’
She slowly turned, fire snapping from her eyes. ‘Don’t you dare use my daughter to manipulate me into going where you want me to go.’
He held up his hands in surrender. ‘Fine. You’re right. Will you please go to the boat so we can figure this out? Besides, Deputy Guthrie will be here in about a minute. Unless you want me to carry you, you can’t make it to the house that fast.’
She glared at him, outraged. ‘That’s just cruel.’
‘Cruel, but accurate. You need to choose.’
Her glare sharpened as she passed him on the way to the boat. ‘Don’t touch me,’ she snapped, smacking his hand away when he tried to help her down to the deck. ‘I’d rather fall.’
She didn’t fall, although she came close when the tip of her cane hit a puddle on the deck. She managed to keep her balance and went down to the cabin without looking back.
‘She’s got a temper,’ his father commented casually.
Clay turned, aiming the same glare at his dad that Stevie had given him. ‘What the hell were you thinking, having Lou come here?’
‘I didn’t think Lou would be so openly hostile. I’m sorry, Clay.’
‘Yeah, well it might not matter that you’re sorry. Your timing really sucks, Dad.’
‘I’m sorry about that, too. But if you could have seen the look on your face . . .’ He took a look at Clay’s face and backed up a step. ‘Right. I’ll just go and check on the child.’
‘Yeah, you do that. Run like the coward you are,’ Clay muttered, his father already halfway down the dock. Clay waited, watching the boathouse, arms crossed tight over his chest.
Lou emerged, dressed in soft sweats and looking very subdued. ‘I’m sorry. Really.’
‘Why did you do it, Lou?’ he asked. ‘Why poke at her that way? She’s had a hell of a twenty
-four and you rubbed it in. There was no need.’
‘I know,’ Lou sighed miserably. ‘I’m a terrible person.’
‘At the moment I’d be forced to agree.’
She frowned, his easy agreement clearly surprising her. ‘She has a lot of nerve to come waltzing in here like she owns the place. She’s using you.’
He thought of those moments in the boat’s cabin. Being used by Stevie Mazzetti had been one of the best experiences of his life. She could use him until he was nothing more than a dried up stub. ‘I invited her here.’
‘She had other places she could go. Other people to depend on. Why you?’
‘Because I manipulated her into it,’ he said honestly. ‘It’s my business, Lou. Not yours.’
‘But . . .’ She sighed again, frustrated. ‘She broke your heart.’
Clay had to laugh. ‘So did you. You broke up with me six weeks before our wedding and married someone else, but you don’t see me hassling your husband.’
She had the good sense to be embarrassed. ‘Yes, I did break up with you, but I didn’t break your heart. I couldn’t break your heart.’
His smile disappeared. ‘Why? Because it’s made of stone?’
‘No. That’s ridiculous.’ She thumped his chest with her fist. ‘You might be rock on the outside, but you’re nothing but a big old marshmallow on the inside.’
‘Don’t tell anybody,’ he whispered.
‘I won’t,’ she said with a smile, then sobered. ‘I couldn’t break your heart because you were never in love with me. Not like you are with her.’
Clay looked over at the boat. Just knowing Stevie was there, waiting for him, even as mad as she was . . . it made him content. ‘I think I knew the moment I saw her.’
‘Please don’t tell me it was love at first sight. You’re nauseating me.’
‘Fine. It wasn’t at first sight. More like third.’ He smiled at the memory. ‘She was leaning over my office chair, getting in my face, tearing me a new one. Which I totally deserved.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I put her daughter in danger because I was an idiot. Remember the man that killed Nicki?’
‘How could I forget? Poor Nicki. She made terrible choices, but nobody deserves that.’
‘No, no one does. I knew who’d killed Nicki and I wanted to catch him myself. I didn’t report him to the cops like I should have. He was stalking Cordelia as well.’
Lou sucked in a harsh breath. ‘I would have done more than tear you a new one, Clay.’
‘I know. But once I knew what else he’d done, I made it right. I gave them the killer’s ID and Cordelia was unharmed. Stevie was like a mother bear . . . she’ll do anything to protect her child. And so will I. They’re important to me, Stevie and Cordelia. Don’t swipe at Stevie like that again. Ever.’
Lou grasped a fistful of his shirt. ‘I just don’t want you to get hurt.’
‘And I appreciate you caring, but it’s not your business. It’s mine. And I’ll take the risk.’
She shook her head. ‘Just promise me one thing. Don’t let her shortchange you. You deserve a lifetime, not just a tumble or two in the cabin of your boat.’
He blinked at her. ‘What makes you think I had a tumble?’
‘Well, tumblus interruptus anyway,’ Lou said with a wicked grin. ‘Your hair was a mess when I got here. I lived with you for a year and never saw a single hair out of place. And you were . . .’ Her eyes skirted down, then back up. ‘Yeah. I remember that part very clearly.’
Clay quailed. ‘Do not ever say that in front of her. Please.’
‘I won’t, I won’t. Geeze. But promise me you’ll make sure she loves you back and isn’t just out to top off her tank. Or worse, just because she’s grateful for your help.’
Clay winced. ‘Are you finished now?’
‘I guess. You’re a big boy now. I’ve got to let you go. Try not to let the big kids steal your lunch money.’ Lou patted his cheek. ‘Tell her I’m sorry.’
‘I will.’ He pointed to Guthrie who’d begun his approach to the dock. ‘Your ride’s here.’
‘Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow when I come for Cordelia. Good luck with Stevie.’
‘Thanks. I’m gonna need it.’
Baltimore, Maryland, Sunday, March 16, 11.35 A.M.
Technology was extremely useful, Robinette thought as he parked his car a quarter-mile from his final destination. He especially appreciated the benefits of tracking technology. He could keep tabs on his entire workforce with the push of a button. The trouble was, that same technology could be used by someone to track him, too. Which was not acceptable.
He jogged down the street to the storage unit he’d had ever since he’d come home a former soldier, discharged honorably, but with no skills that would make him his fortune. With his MP credentials, he could have been a cop, true. But unless they were dirty, cops didn’t make jack shit. He’d found another way to make money, and now he owned a few dirty cops of his own.
He liked the irony of that.
He found his storage unit and unlocked the door, revealing a 1999 Chevy Tahoe. It was no sports car, but it also had no GPS. None of his team knew he owned it. It had belonged to his first wife. Levi’s mother. She’d left it to rust in her alcoholic father’s garage.
Robinette had driven it back from Louisiana after burying Levi next to the boy’s mother, who’d OD’d when Levi was nine years old. It had happened while Robinette had been deployed and his friends had been there for him then, mourning with him. He hadn’t cared a single iota about the bitch who’d borne his son, but he hadn’t let his team know that.
He hadn’t expected them to come to Levi’s funeral and had been touched that Brenda Lee had assembled the old gang to stand beside him at the gravesite. They’d made plans after the funeral, plans that were finally coming to fruition today. But back then he’d needed some time to think. Telling them he planned to rent a car and drive home, he stole the Tahoe right out from under his first father-in-law’s nose and brought it here.
He used the vehicle when he went places he’d rather keep secret. Hookers, usually. His tastes probably wouldn’t meet the approval of his current father-in-law. But he also used the Tahoe when he spied on his own people. Like today.
Wight’s Landing, Maryland, Sunday, March 16, 11.35 A.M.
Clay took the stairs down to the cabin one at a time, giving Stevie fair warning so that she could prepare her lungs for the tirade he deserved. When he got to the cabin, he found her standing as far away from the stairs as she could. Which wasn’t all that far, considering it was the cabin of a small boat. Two more steps and he’d be standing behind her, close enough to kiss the nape of her neck – exposed only because her head hung down dejectedly.
‘Stevie, I’m sorry. I was going to tell you, I swear it. It’s just that you touched me and—’
Her free hand cut through the air, stopping his words. ‘I know you were going to tell me.’
Relieved that she believed him, he took one of the two steps he needed to be close to her. Then frowned when her words sank in. Tell? ‘I don’t under—’
Again the hand, again cutting him off. ‘I guess the question is when would you have told me? As you were bundling her into a boat, allowing people I don’t know to take my child?’
Oh. His mama didn’t raise a fool. Now he understood. ‘No. I would have explained your options long before then. Before we’d even left this boat.’
She laughed bitterly. ‘Oh, no. No wriggling out of this, Mr Maynard. Explaining my options, my ass. I have no options. I haven’t since you saved my life yesterday, have I?’
He opened his mouth, then closed it. This was a no-win situation.
Her head jerked up, sending her dark hair swinging to cover the nape he’d wanted to kiss. ‘Well?’ she demanded.
‘I don’t know how to answer that,’ he said cautiously. ‘If you’re expecting an apology for saving your life, you’ll be waiting a long time.’
‘Okay. Yes, you have options. No, you don’t have many. You specifically said last night that we needed to find Cordelia a safer place to hide. “Even safer than this.”’ He hooked his fingers in the air. ‘I did what you asked.’
‘Without consulting me.’
‘For that I apologize. I thought you needed to sleep. I was trying to be considerate.’
‘Of course you were!’ she gritted out between her teeth. ‘That’s all you’ve been is considerate. I’m so goddamn tired of considerate that I could scream.’
Annoyance sprang free and he drove his fists into his hips. ‘You want me to take you and Cordelia to the nearest bus station and drop you off with a sandwich and bus fare? Maybe hang signs around your necks that say “Kill me now”? Would that make me less considerate?’
Abruptly she stepped forward, lips trembling, her dark eyes suddenly shiny. Leaning up on the toes of her good foot, she bored her index finger into his chest. ‘Do not patronize me.’
Clay drew a breath, let it out. Did his damnedest to ignore her tears. ‘Then stop behaving like a child, throwing tantrums,’ he snapped. ‘I’m serious about protecting you and your daughter. When you are too, feel free to join the party.’
She flinched as if he’d struck her, then turned so quickly that she stumbled. Grabbing the edge of the table, she regained her balance. She’d lost her grip on the cane, now holding it in the middle instead of at the top. She stood with her back to him.
‘Don’t you think I know I’m acting like an idiot?’ she demanded in a whisper. ‘Don’t you think I wish I could make myself stop? For almost eight years it’s been just me and Cordelia. And I have taken care of her. All by myself. No husband. No one to ask advice.’ She faltered. ‘Except for Izzy. Who in many ways turns out to be a better mother than I am. Who knew?’
