Chris swallowed and took a deep breath. Chances were, Maddie’s condition made sense only to her, but her comfortless sniffles wrenched his heart right out of his chest. He crutched forward and sank onto the bench near her.
“Hey.” He touched her shoulder.
She jerked and peered up at him, cheeks glistening with rivulets of water as if she stood under a shower. “Oh, Chris!”
She lunged toward him, and he wrapped her close. Her whole body shook as she buried her face against his shoulder and raised the water pressure. She must have had this stuff dammed up since the Rio, or maybe even before. Who knew when this stoic woman had cried last? Who cared, as long as she did it in his arms?
Comfort babble flowed from his lips, but he didn’t pay much attention to what he said exactly. Hopefully, she wasn’t retaining much more than the tone of his voice, because he probably made about as much sense as any love-struck man with the woman of his dreams curled against him, trusting him with her tears.
Shadows lengthened, but time was of no consequence as he held her, and they rocked together. At last, the sobs tapered into deep, shuddering breaths. Then she lifted her head a little and peered up at him. If raccoon masks were red and encircled bloodshot eyes, she’d be an awfully cute coon. He smiled down at her.
“I’m s-sorry,” she hiccupped. “I’ve been a b-blind-headed fool. I know you didn’t sell us out at the Rio. I know it in here.” She pulled away and pressed a hand to her heart. “And in here.” She tapped her forehead. “I still don’t know what really happened but—”
“Shh.” He pressed a finger to her lips. “We’ll figure it out. Maybe it’s just as important to realize what didn’t happen.”
A smile quivered at the edges of her lips, and her gaze lightened with...what? Hope? Yes, but something more. Did he dare think it might be the beginnings of love for him? Did he want her love? Yes!
God help him, but it was time to raise the white flag...at least to himself. The battle against his commonsense resolve to remain detached was lost. He wouldn’t inform her yet about his glorious defeat. The timing was premature. And besides, he wanted—no, needed—for her to move beyond simple trust and into something stronger. Maybe he could help the process along in another way besides words.
Chris gathered her close and kissed her mouth, her cheeks, her eyelids, the sides of her jaw—and she didn’t resist. His heart soared. In fact, she kissed him back, little giggles erupting in place of the sobs. The leftover salt of her tears made a sweet savor on his lips. Finally, they sat quietly, arms around each other, her head resting on his shoulder. If peace were a river, they were happily floating away downstream.
“It’s wet,” she said.
“What?”
“Your shirt. Soggy as a dishrag.”
“You know whose fault that is, right?”
“Yup. Do you mind?”
“Nope. Cry a bucket on me anytime, though I hope it’s never me that gives you cause.”
She let out a long sigh and sat up. “We have a lot to talk about. A lot to do. We can’t afford to waste time cuddling.”
“I know.” With the tips of his fingers, Chris brushed a lock of golden hair out of her face. “I’ve been a busy boy these past three days.” He told her the connection between Representative Jess and the Rio Grande Paper Plant, as well as what he’d discovered about the FBI agent who’d conspired with DEA Agent Ramsey to kill them at the hotel. “And I found out the identity of our mystery muscle-man shadowing Representative Jess. His name is Richard Glick. Does that name ring a bell?”
Maddie shrugged. “No. Should it?”
“Jess hired him as his bodyguard after some much-publicized threats on his life from the Ortiz Drug Cartel because of his position on the Texas Homeland Security and Public Safety Committee.”
A mask of grim glee settled over her face. “Hah! Pretty clever to manufacture a bogus threat. Makes them look like champions of justice when they’re hand-in-glove with slime.”
“You’re no slouch on the uptake.” Chris chuckled.
“I must be, because none of that tells me why you think I should recognize Glick’s name.”
Chris took a deep breath. She was going to hate this. “He’s a former army ranger.”
“He’s not!” Maddie leaped to her feet, slicing the air with the edge of one hand. Then she froze on an audible intake of breath and turned slowly back toward him. “No, I don’t mean I doubt you, Chris. I’ll never make that mistake again. Word of a ranger. But that’s exactly why I’m in such disbelief. Rangers vow to lay down their lives rather than betray their country.”
The fire in her gaze had burned away the last vestige of their brief moment of contentment together. He wanted it back, but he dared not press for it. He rose and faced her.
“People are people, and rangers aren’t any more infallible than the next mortals when that many dollar signs flash before them.”
“But we’re supposed to be better than that.” Her mouth flat-lined.
Chris ran a hand up and down her arm. Her skin wore a chill even in the late-day warmth. “I know at least one who is better than that.”
Her head lowered. “Not in my own strength, though I’ve been doing pretty well at fooling myself that it’s so.” She sighed. “I’m nothing without God, and here I’ve been blaming Him for the evil that people do. How do I make it up to Him?” Her searching gaze lifted to Chris’s.
He risked encircling her in an embrace, and she didn’t pull away. “His arms are wide open for you and infinitely more welcoming than mine.”
Maddie let out a forlorn chuckle. “I guess I need to spend some time getting reacquainted. I think I can handle that. Correction. I think I’ll let Him help me with that.” She turned her head toward the house. “David’s playing those classical piano CDs again. I’m almost starting to like the stuff.”
“CDs?” He snickered. “Come with me.” Chris grabbed her hand and took a step forward. His ankle protested the weight. Loudly. “Ouch! I keep forgetting these.” He reluctantly turned her hand loose and took up his crutches.
She grinned and trod beside him as they went in through the back door. Coolness enfolded them. Chris led her to a solarium on the south side of the house then let her step into the room first. The stunned look on her face was everything he’d anticipated. David didn’t even glance up from the keyboard to acknowledge their presence. His hair was still damp from the quick shower he must have taken while they were in the garden, and he wore clean jeans and a plaid, button-down shirt.
“It’s a piece of media-overlooked trivia,” Chris said to Maddie, “but Texas’s wealthiest oil tycoon could choose to become a concert pianist any day of the week.”
David looked up and awarded them a smile but never missed a note. “Do you think my name on the marquee would sell tickets or invite rotten tomatoes?” He offered a lopsided grin, lifted his fingers from the keyboard, and rose. “Did you give her the low-down on your research?” He nodded toward Chris.
“Sure did.” Chris found a nearby sofa and sank into it.
Maddie perched next to him, close enough for their shoulders to touch. She really meant it when she said she’d decided to trust him. He suppressed the whoop that filled his windpipe, but couldn’t tone down the grin that strained his cheek muscles.
David laughed. “You two patched it up, I see.”
A pretty rose color bloomed across her face. “I tried to drown him first. Sorry about losing it in front of you, but thank you for bringing me to my senses.”
“No problem.” David’s eyebrows rose. “Not sure what I said, but glad I could help. Sorry for fleeing the scene, but I’ve never been good with women and tears. It wasn’t me you wanted, anyway.”
Chris shot his friend a mock scowl. “If it was, you and I would have had an issue.”
Grinning, David threw a punch in the air. “Like I couldn’t take you even if you didn’t have a gimpy leg?”
“Don’t let that little detail stop you from trying.” Chris waved a crutch. “Be very afraid.”
The men laughed, but Maddie clapped her hands together.
“Men at play are very cute,” she said, “but it’s time for a serious discussion. We have decisions to make.”
She rose, and Chris missed her presence, but the snuggly Maddie had been swallowed by the huntress that now paced the Oriental rug covering a section of the polished hardwood floor.
“Your research is awesome, Chris.” She waved a finger at him. “Based on what you’ve uncovered, we can connect the dots very easily. Too bad we have no way to prove much of it. Anyone in authority—if we could figure out someone to approach—will have a harder time putting the pieces together, and we have nothing concrete tying Representative Jess or Richard Glick to the drug trade.”
“We’ve got Ramsey and Adrian Lesko cold on camera trying to commit murder. That and the recorded phone conversation proves their complicity with the cartel. Surely, they’d cut a deal by rolling over on their bosses.”
Maddie shook her head. “They know too well what happens to people who betray the drug runners.”
Chris scowled. “Doesn’t seem right that betraying the cartel inspires more fear in crooked agents than betraying their country.”
“You nailed that irony on the head.”
“At least showing the video to someone we can trust—”
“And who would that be?”
He shot her a hard look, and she went still, hands on hips.
“As I was saying,” Chris continued, “if we can figure out someone in law enforcement to trust and give them a copy of the video and the phone recording, we will take a huge step toward getting ourselves off the hook.”
“How do you see that?”
“Yeah, explain that conclusion,” David chimed in. He perched on the end of the piano bench and crossed his arms.
Chris glared from his friend to the woman who drove him crazy in so many ways that he hardly knew which way was up. “They tried to kill us. Clearly we were a threat. Shouldn’t that suggest that we might have been framed for the murder of Ramsey’s partner?”
“You’re thinking like an innocent man, buddy.” David shook his head.
“And your meaning is?”
“You’re thinking like someone who believes they will actually be considered innocent unless proven guilty. That’s not always how these things fly in real life. I found that out firsthand.”
Maddie fixed their host with an assessing look. What was going on in that nimble mind of his? Whatever it was, she shook her head and returned her gaze to Chris’s.
“Ramsey and Lesko’s attempt to murder us in cold blood may put them behind bars, but their action hardly paints us lily-white—either to law enforcement or in the public eye. Crooks fall out among themselves all the time.”
Chris picked up one of the scatter pillows from his end of the sofa and chucked it toward the other end.
David let out a sharp chuckle. “Do I detect a little frustration?”
“You two are saying that we went to all that trouble of setting them up at the hotel, and the best we might achieve is to send Ramsey and Lesko to prison along with us.”
“Pretty fair assessment.” His friend nodded.
“Unacceptable!” Maddie pronounced. “The entire purpose of pursuing this investigation was to expose the real villains of the Rio Grande Massacre. We’ve done that to our own satisfaction, if no one else’s. There’s got to be some way to make sure the bad guys lose and the good guys win.”
Their host heaved a long sigh, and his gaze fell to his toes.
“Spit it out, David,” Chris said. “You’ve got something on your mind.”
Expression unreadable, his friend raised his head and met Chris’s gaze. “Answers don’t always come how—or even when—we think they should. Maybe God needs you to get out of His way, and let Him take these guys down. Maybe the best thing you can do right now is make sure the good guys don’t lose.”
“Meaning what?” Maddie’s question was sharp-edged, yet her bottom lip trembled, and her eyes were wide as a kid’s, anticipating her first day at school.
Did she welcome yet fear some new alternative as much as he did?
“I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do my level best to ensure neither of you pays for a crime you didn’t commit. I can’t make the charges or the warrants or the manhunt go away, but I can make you go away. That one-way trip, loaded with dough, to a beautiful, balmy country with no U.S. extradition treaty might not have been such a bogus idea. I’m a guy who can make it happen just like that.” He snapped his fingers.
Maddie gasped, and Chris opened his mouth to speak, but David raised a forestalling hand.
“Don’t answer me now. Sleep on it. Give yourselves one more night to decide your future.” Their host rose and silently departed the room.
Chris stared at Maddie, and Maddie stared back at him.
“That was... Wow!” she said.
“We couldn’t possibly.”
“No, of course not. That option is against everything we set out to do.”
“Absolutely.”
Their words were definite, but the tone of each bold remark was not. Was the temptation as real to her as it was to him?
Maddie rubbed her palms against her jeans. “Then I guess there’s nothing to say. We’ll give David our answer in the morning.”
“David?”
“Is there any other filthy rich guy in this house who offered to fund our early retirement at a tropical resort?”
“No, I was just surprised. This is the first time you’ve called my friend by his first name.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Her gaze dropped. “I like him. This David. I’m sure I would have despised the person he was before Christ did in him only what He can do. I don’t know if David committed the crime the evidence suggests. He doesn’t, either. But the man he’s become is worth knowing.”
“I agree.”
“Maybe that’s why we’re both secretly considering taking him up on his offer.”
Chris let out a brief chuckle through is nose. “We’re a pair, all right.”
“I think so.”
She gave him a look that thrilled him to the soles of his feet. This special thing coming to fruition between them was another huge nudge toward David’s solution. If justice was to be denied them, why shouldn’t they grab a little happiness instead? Why should they risk their freedom and their potential love on an insane gamble?
“Chris?”
He looked up to realize Maddie stood sideways in the doorway, gazing at him with eyes that shimmered.
“I’m not done crying,” she said.
Chris nodded and patted the still-damp shoulder of his shirt.
She ghosted a smile and then was gone.
That did it. Maddie deserved every chance he could give her to soak his shoulder with her tears. She deserved peace and safety, not another reason to sob and no shoulder to wet because they were torn apart by a justice system gone awry.
FIFTEEN
The hours of the night held little sleep for Maddie. She flopped over and over until her covers wrapped her like a mummy. Finally, she fought free of the sheet and blanket and rose to prowl her end of the house. Each window she passed revealed an ebony sky lit by a full, golden moon and attended by glittering stars, but the clear night didn’t help clarify her thoughts.
She loved Chris. It was too soon to tell him so, but a guarded hope accompanied that realization. Guarded because stubborn insistence on their current course was all too likely to end with them in prison
or worse. If it was only herself to consider, she’d say risk it all, but the mental image of Chris sentenced to live the remainder of his life behind bars or condemned to lethal injection for the murder of a DEA agent turned her stomach inside out. For him, she couldn’t risk that outcome. Flight rather than fight went against every ounce of instinct and training within her, but for him she’d behave counterintuitively.
In the wee hours, decision made, she burrowed into her bed covers and entered exhausted, fitful sleep.
The sound of male voices and scents of cooking food from the kitchen awakened her. She checked the bedside clock and sighed. She’d slept half the morning away, but felt anything but refreshed.
Groaning, Maddie piled out of bed and threw on some clothes, then made herself presentable with a brush through her hair and a brush on her teeth. Soldiers were trained to perform the necessaries in near light speed, so she joined the guys for breakfast in the kitchen within five minutes of rising.
Chris stood at the stove, cooking eggs and bacon, while David minded the toaster and poured orange juice into glasses at the counter next to the refrigerator. As she padded toward them in stocking feet, the men halted their small talk about a fascinating topic—the weather—and turned their heads toward her. She awarded them both a smile, but sought to engage Chris’s gaze with hers. He met her look steady-on, and her eyes widened. He’d made his decision also. Could she hope that they were on the same page about what must be done?
“Hey, there. Hope you slept well.” Chris smiled, but his gaze searched hers. Dark circles under his eyes announced that his night of rest had been as short as hers. “How do you like your eggs?”
“Any way you fix them.” She wandered to the center island and settled onto a stool. “If I’m not cooking, I’m not fussy.”
“Allow us to serve you.” David set a glass of orange juice on the counter in front of her.
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