Alias

by Amy J. Fetzer

  It would kill him. Maurice knew it.

  She threw her hands up. “Okay, okay, don’t hurt him.”

  Maurice climbed to his feet, using Charlie as a shield as he moved toward her. Charlie whimpered.

  “Shut up.” He shook her son violently.

  “You do that again, Maury, and I swear to God I’ll scar you for life.”

  Maurice let the tazer crackle, the blue stream of energy too close to her child’s throat. Then he backhanded her, snapping her head to the side. Slowly, she turned her head, leveling him with a stare meant to fry the flesh from his bones. She swiped her hand across her lip. Blood smeared.

  Maurice’s confidence slipped a little.

  Between them, Charlie sobbed, staring up at her with his big eyes and trusting her to free him. Moving back, Darcy circled, making Maurice turn, making him look at her and not her son.

  “This is between me and you, Maury. Let him go.”

  He didn’t, holding Charlie by the collar of his shirt. “You’ll be my wife again.”

  “Dream on.” She moved to the right.

  “Or you’ll go to jail for kidnapping.”

  “I protected myself and my son.” She wanted to draw him near the fallen knickknacks, make him trip. She needed Charlie clear of him. “You’re the one going to jail, Maury.”

  “For what?” he said supremely arrogant.

  “Forgery, illegal money transfer, defrauding the government and there is the matter of Porche Fairchild.”

  His face turned to stone. “I heard she’s still on sabbatical.”

  “She’s dead.”

  “Really. You kill her?”

  “No, you did. Lot eight, the studio? Ring a bell? I found her body in a barrel of HCHO.”

  He paled, but covered it well. “That doesn’t mean anything to me.”

  “It should. Remember when you burned the bloody clothes in the hearth? You passed out, and I put out the flames and took them. They have her blood and the HCHO all over them. Plus your monogram—and your DNA.”

  Slowly the color drained from his handsome face.

  “And I’ll give you one guess who has them now.”

  “Well, it seems you’ve grown a brain.” He lunged, the tazer out, and Darcy swung her leg up, clipping his wrist. The tazer flew out of his hand and he stumbled right on her, dragging Charlie. She brought both fists down on the back of his neck.

  He dropped like a stone, taking Charlie with him. Darcy pulled her son away, pushing him toward her mother. Delores grabbed the tazer and stood near the door with Charlie behind her and the weapon out. Her hand shook.

  “Now you have no way out.” Maurice pushed up on his hands.

  “You are so stupid sometimes.” Darcy moved backward toward the French doors. “Do you think I came here alone?”

  Maurice’s expression turned molten, the ramifications sliding through his brain. “I’ll kill you!” He got to his feet, swaying a little.

  “You tried that once.” Fists out, she flicked her fingers. “I’ll give you another chance, though. Close your eyes, Charlie, Mommy has some house cleaning to do.”

  Maurice charged at her and Darcy waited for one moment. Waited till he was nearly on her. Her fists shot out in rapid succession, breaking his nose. Blood poured and he stumbled back, swiping at his face and staring at the blood. Then he came at her, and she drove her fist into his solar plexus. He buckled over, gasping, then threw his head back, clipping her under her chin. Darcy tripped backward, putting distance between them.

  “You can’t testify against me, Darcy,” he snarled. “A wife can’t testify against her husband!”

  “You really need to come out of the movie world, Maury. A wife can’t be forced to testify. Nobody will twist my arm.”

  “You spent the money, bitch!” he roared advancing. “You decorated this house with it.”

  “I never signed a thing. Remember? You wouldn’t let me.”

  The instant he was near, she executed a high spin kick, knocking him in the side of the head. He fell against the grand column, grabbing it for support. Darcy wasn’t done. Another double kick packed with anger sent him flying back. He landed hard on the tile floor, sliding a few feet.

  He didn’t move.

  Darcy adjusted her stance, not trusting that he was out for the count.

  “My God in heaven Darcy, where did you learn that?”

  “Athena Academy.” Darcy rushed to the doors. Taking the tazer, she shocked the alarm system on the door. It shorted out and the locks sprang. She scooped up Charlie and shoved her mother out ahead of herself.

  Maurice was still on his back.

  Outside, she heard the blare of sirens, the squeal of tires. But it was the sweet sound of the incoming chopper that alerted half the neighborhood. Lights blinked on for a block as Darcy raced out, helping her mother run toward the beach.

  Like a hawk diving for its prey, the helicopter swooped in from the shoreline. The blades beat the air, the power knocking over planters, bending back tree limbs. The pilot delicately lowered the iron bird, and Darcy smiled at Lieutenant Josie Lockworth as she touched down.

  God, it was good to have heavy-duty backup.

  Darcy hurried her family toward the chopper.

  Maurice screamed her name. “If I lose it all, so do you!”

  Midstride, Darcy turned her head to look behind. Maurice stood on the patio and pointed a gun at her back. He cocked the hammer. She stopped and put Charlie down, telling him to run to the chopper, pushing her mother with him. Josie was already leaning out to pull them in.

  “Darcy! Come on!” Josie shouted when Charlie and Delores were inside.

  Darcy met her gaze and put her hands up in surrender, then made small circular motions with one gloved finger. Josie’s gaze shifted beyond to Maurice and her lips tightened. She didn’t want to leave her, Darcy knew. Darcy shook her head and mouthed, Save my baby. Josie adjusted her headset and lifted off without her.

  “Don’t shoot, Maurice.” Behind her, he smiled and Darcy looked up as the chopper rose, putting her hands behind her head.

  Charlie was screaming for her, reaching, and her mother struggled to hold on to him.

  The helicopter blades twisted the air, stirring dirt and leaves, the water in the pool. Josie aimed the spotlight down like a beam from heaven, showering them in white light.

  Maurice fired a shot at the chopper and in one motion Darcy twisted, pulling a knife from the pocket behind her neck. She threw. The small blade whistled through the air and sank into his thigh.

  He howled, tottering backward, grabbing the hilt and yanking it out. For a split second, he stared at the blade. “You really think that made a difference!” He threw it aside and extended his arm, aiming.

  But Darcy was already sighting down a .9mm barrel.

  Maurice’s eyes widened.

  “You fired a gun at my son, my mother and my friend,” she said with each step closer. “You pathetic little worm.”

  His gaze flicked to the chopper lifting higher, the TV news van crew spilling from the van, already filming. But Darcy’s attention was on his face, his finger on the trigger.

  “ABS cameras are rolling. It’s over Maurice. You’re on national news trying to kill your wife and son. You’re ruined.”

  His face twisted with rage and he pulled the trigger. Darcy lunged right and heard the shot whiz by her as she returned fire. Her bullet impacted his shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Rushing forward, she kicked the gun out of his hand.

  He clutched his shoulder, breathing hard. Blood fountained between his fingers. “I’ll make you pay for this. This is assault! I won’t go to jail, you know it. I own people!”

  “All that money, and you’re still such a loser.” She pointed the gun at his head, breathing hard. “Payback’s a real bitch, ain’t it?”

  For the first time, she saw real fear in his eyes.

  “Darcy?”

  The familiar voice floated to her, clear and determin
ed. Jack.

  “Don’t. He’s not worth it.”

  At the sound of Jack’s voice, Darcy felt something invigorating slide through her and she lowered the pistol. Maurice deflated like a spent balloon.

  “You’re not going to die, Maurice. That’s too easy. You’re going to live in the same hell you put me in.”

  Suddenly cops were everywhere, one man checking Maurice for weapons, then pulling him off the ground. He groaned, bleeding all over himself. He could barely stand.

  An officer clamped on handcuffs, ignoring Maurice’s wince of pain.

  Darcy moved close, in his face. “You know what, Maury?” she said, disgusted. “I want a divorce.”

  Chapter 17

  D arcy turned away from Maurice and let the cops search her, but her gaze was on Jack standing a few feet away.

  Her eyes teared, the tension of the past hours flowing out of her in hard breaths. Her son and mother were safe in the air with Josie. Maurice was in handcuffs.

  And Jack was here.

  When the police had her knives and Meg’s gun, she lowered her arms. For a second, she just stared at Jack. Then he rushed to her, clamping his arms around her. He buried his face in the side of her neck.

  “Woman, are you ever going to stop scaring me like this?”

  Darcy closed her eyes, tears of relief falling. “Yes, I promise. No more,” she said and he leaned back to look her in the eyes.

  “What made you think you could—”

  She pressed two fingers to his lips. “I had a plan, you know.” She gestured to the news van, the chopper that was circling the estate.

  “Athena graduates?”

  “Yeah, they’re the best kind of people.” She glanced back toward the parking area. “Go, Tory.”

  Tory Patton kept the cameras on Maurice, shoving her microphone in his face, asking him why he had tried to kill his wife. Maurice just glared at Darcy as she walked with Jack toward the gathering of flashing lights and cameras.

  The police read Maurice his rights, and Darcy watched as they put him in a cruiser.

  “Did they find Kel or whatever his name is?”

  Jack gestured to a police cruiser. “The actor didn’t go far from Hollywood.” Darcy marched up to the car. Jack grabbed her back.

  “I want to punch his lights out.”

  “I took care of that for you.”

  Darcy blinked, then looked at Kel. He had a black eye and a split lip.

  Smiling, Darcy grabbed Jack’s right hand and kissed the scrape. “You’re such a knight,” she said.

  “I figured if you got a hold of him, he wouldn’t be fit for trial.”

  She smiled.

  The chopper hovered, then like a feather falling gracefully to the ground, Josie set it down on the front lawn. The blades beat slower as the door slid back and her mother hopped out, hair whipping as she reached for Charlie.

  Darcy ducked and ran near, grabbing up her son. She met Josie’s gaze through the windshield. “Thank you,” Darcy said, though she knew Josie couldn’t hear above the noise.

  Grinning, Josie threw her a salute. Darcy hurried her mother away from the chopper and Josie lifted off, swooping high and out of sight.

  “Men are in real danger if Athena produces women with guts like you three,” Jack said, walking up behind her.

  Charlie shrieked Jack’s name and lunged into his arms. Jack held her son tightly, then wrapped his arm around her and pressed his lips to her temple. “No more secrets, Darcy, no more.”

  “A girl has to have a few. How else can I keep a man interested?”

  Jack smiled. “It wasn’t your secrets that kept me around, darlin’.” He pressed his forehead to hers,both releasing a heavy sigh. Then he kissed her, staking his claim. And Darcy let him.

  Oh, glory glory, she thought happily. Let freedom ring.

  Several months later

  Darcy stared at her mother. Her drinking had aged her. She was only about fifty but looked sixty-five.

  It had been six months since Maurice’s arrest. The trial had been the sensation of Hollywood. Televised and drawn out. She’d testified, staring Maurice down in the courtroom. Her mother had confirmed the details, and Darcy had watched her humiliate herself on the witness stand to do it.

  Darcy had seen Delores only once since then. Now she was asking to be a part of their lives.

  “I’m sorry, Darcy. If I hadn’t been drinking maybe I could have gotten Charlie out or helped you.”

  “Yes, you’re right, but Maurice wasn’t giving up easily.” Her mother seemed to crumble a little.

  Darcy studied her, remembering her childhood, all the things her mother had done for her to try to make her life better. She’d worked two jobs, made her clothes, and it wasn’t until she’d remarried for the third time that the drinking had started. One day they’d have to sit down and understand why she sank into a bottle. They were all frail, she thought, each with fears and lost hopes. And Darcy had a feeling her mother hadn’t experienced a lot of love in the past years.

  She reached out, gazing into her mother’s eyes, and said the words her mother needed to hear. “I forgive you, Mom. We all make mistakes. Sometimes we pay for them for a long time.”

  Delores’s eyes teared and she whispered, “Thank you.”

  Darcy hesitated for a second. “I want you to know that I really can’t let you near Charlie till you’re sober and willing to go for treatment.”

  “I know, I know. I have been to AA meetings.” When Darcy’s look doubted, she showed her the chips awarded for sober months.

  Darcy smiled, genuinely pleased. “I have to be able to trust you.”

  “Honey, I know. I have to trust me, too.” She looked longingly out into the backyard where Charlie was playing with his new puppy. “Some things are worth it.”

  Darcy held back her tears and said, “Go on, Mom.”

  Delores met her gaze, her eyes glossy. She sniffled and gripped her daughter’s hand. “Thank you, Darcy. I’m so proud of you, you know. So very proud.”

  Darcy kissed her cheek, and then because she needed it more, she hugged her mother, whispering that she was proud of her, too.

  When they parted, Delores’s gaze shifted past her daughter. Darcy turned.

  Jack sipped coffee, his shoulder braced on the doorjamb. Like an excited child, Delores went outside to Charlie.

  “I know what it took to forgive her,” he said.

  “Not as much as I thought.” Darcy watched her mother kick off her shoes and drop to the ground with Charlie. There was a comfortable silence between them before she asked, “So, are you going back on the force?”

  “What do you want?”

  She met his gaze. “I have what I want. My son, my real name back, my divorce. My shop’s doing well without me there 24/7 so I get more time with Charlie.”

  Jack’s smile was patient. “You’re missing the point.”

  “Jack, it’s not my life, not my decision. But I’d rather you be a detective than on the street chasing crazies.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Why?”

  She made a frustrated sound, fidgeting. “Because I really like you.”

  “Like?” He looked insulted.

  “Jeez, Jack, what do you want from me?”

  He pushed off the wall and set his cup down, then slid his arms around her. He pulled her against him, every inch of them sealed together.

  “I want the truth. The honest to God truth. There’s no one to hide from, no one after you. You still have your network, though most of it’s illegal as hell.”

  “Jack,” she warned. “I’m trying to make it all legal, you know that.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  She smoothed her hand up his arms to his big shoulders. “So what’s this big truth you want to know?”

  He brushed her hair off her face. “Tell me…what’s in your heart, Darcy?”

  She gazed up at him, f
eeling as if they were standing on the edge of a cliff and not in her kitchen.

  “You, Jack.”

  His smile was warm and slow. “Yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah. Deep in there.” She plowed her fingers into his hair, tipping his head near. “You’re sorta like that stray dog that won’t go away.” He snickered. “I’ll keep you around.”

  “And around and around and around,” he murmured against her mouth, then kissed her with all the hunger she’d been longing for in a lifetime.

  Soon she’d tell him how much she loved him. How she wanted to share her new life with him. But it was new to her, this freedom. She was trying it on still, still learning about the woman she was meant to be.

  Jack seemed to know her already. He’d seen beneath the masks, understood who was hidden behind the alias. And he’d stayed beside her, with quiet strength, as she rediscovered her freedom.

  He’d wait for her, till it fit right.

  Because if Darcy knew anything about Jack, it was that he had infinite reserves of patience.

  And she hoped, persistence.