Fearless

by Diana Palmer

  Rodrigo lived in a gated community. It was a pretty apartment complex, very ritzy. Most of the cars in the parking lots were expensive ones. If he could afford to live here, she thought, he had more going for him than a federal agent’s salary. She remembered Sarina saying that he was related to the royal houses of Europe. He was probably wealthy.

  She had to show her court ID to the gatekeeper and lie about the purpose of her visit. He said that he’d have to check it with Mr. Ramirez, which he proceeded to do. But Rodrigo wasn’t in. The guard gave her racing-green Jaguar XKE sports car a long, wistful look. It really was a beaut—a present from her stepbrother and stepsister last Christmas.

  “I’ll only be a minute,” she pleaded. “I have some papers to leave with him on a case I’m trying in San Antonio.”

  “Oh, I see. Yes, we all heard about the happenings down in Jacobs County,” the gatekeeper said, warming to her. “Were you in on that?”

  She laughed. “Only peripherally, I’m afraid. But I will get to try some of the coconspirators.” That was a possibility, but she made it sound as if it were the purpose of her visit.

  “You go on in. He plays tennis most Saturday mornings,” he added. “You can wait for him.”

  “Thanks a million.”

  “Sure thing.”

  She drove off and the guard frowned. Should he have told her that another young lady had already gone in to see Mr. Ramirez, and that she had a key to the apartment?

  BLISSFULLY IGNORANT OF the possible complications, Glory pulled up in the parking lot and got out, walking to the apartment the guard had given her directions for. There was a little Hispanic boy with a soccer ball in the green space between the apartment buildings. She smiled at him, and wondered if her child would be a boy.

  “Do you like soccer?” the boy asked.

  “Yes. I follow all the games,” she replied, “and I always watch the World Cup.”

  “I like Marquez,” he replied. “He’s captain of the Mexican team. He’s a great player.”

  Her eyebrows arched. “Marquez?” she asked, thinking of her own Marquez, the detective.

  He nodded. “We call him Rafa. I want to be like him when I grow up. Look what I can do.” He bounced the ball from one knee to the other. She laughed, enjoying his skill.

  She heard footsteps and turned. And there was Rodrigo, but not the man she’d known in Jacobsville. This was someone else. He was like the people Jason and Gracie invited to their social events. He was wearing an Armani suit with handmade Italian shoes. His hair was styled, not just cut, and he looked expensive and graceful…and dangerous.

  “Hi, Rodrigo!” the boy called. “Want to play?”

  “Not right now. Go home, Domingo,” he said gently.

  The boy looked from one adult to the other. “Sure.” He didn’t argue.

  “What do you want?” Rodrigo asked bluntly.

  She hesitated. She should have dressed better. She was wearing the same jeans and T-shirt she’d worn at the farm, although her hair was in a neat plait. She didn’t have much makeup on. She was walking without the cane, because she didn’t want pity. She tried to look comfortable.

  “I wanted to tell you something,” she said. She didn’t know how to begin.

  He smiled coldly. “Someone’s been talking to you, I gather,” he replied.

  “Well, yes.”

  “And now you know that I could have afforded to buy that farm and fifty like it for cash, and suddenly those marriage vows we took have real value, no?”

  Her eyes widened. “You must be joking,” she began. She wasn’t a Pendleton, but she was treated like one. She had a closet full of designer clothes that Gracie and Jason had forced on her. Not to mention the little Jaguar sports car she was driving.

  “Joking?” He gave her a long appraisal with narrowed, contemptuous eyes. “It’s no joke. Don’t think you’ll play on my sympathies and walk away richer. I have none for mercenary creatures like you.” He was outraged that she’d tracked him here, that she was brazen enough to try to force her way into his life after they’d agreed to divorce.

  “Mercenary…?” She was horrified. This wasn’t what she’d expected.

  Before he could say anything else, or she could come up with a reply that didn’t include kicking him in the groin, his apartment door opened and a beautiful young woman with long black hair, olive skin and dark eyes called to him.

  “Are you coming, Rodrigo?” she asked urgently. “I’ve almost burned the paella!”

  “I’ll be right there, Conchita,” he called back.

  Glory had never felt so stupid. He looked back down at her with pure revenge in his dark eyes. “She’s great in bed,” he drawled.

  She didn’t want him to see the pain he was causing. She turned away and started back toward her car. Her hip was hurting, but so was her belly. Odd, these twinges of pain. She thought about the blood thinners she’d taken for so long and hoped they weren’t going to hurt the baby. The baby. Rodrigo would never know, she vowed. Never!

  HE WATCHED HER WALK away with mingled fury and regret. She was proud. She’d never asked for special treatment on the farm and she had guts—she’d saved herself from both Marco and Consuelo without any help from him. He’d accused her of being after his money. Well, he told himself, she probably was. She had nothing. Could he blame her for wanting a better life?

  As he mounted his steps he heard a roar and looked over the parking lot in time to see a green sports car rev out into the road. He didn’t recognize the car, but he knew it couldn’t be Glory’s. Maybe some friend of hers had brought her. He went in to eat the paella and put Glory out of his mind.

  GLORY RAN OUT OF CURSES before she left Houston. By the time she got to the expressway and was almost to Victoria, she was making them up as she went along. The pain in her belly came again. She gasped. This wasn’t going away. Her own doctor was in San Antonio, and Jacobsville was much closer. Lou Coltrain knew about her condition. She decided that Jacobsville was her best bet. She hoped she could make it. She floored the accelerator.

  LUCK WAS WITH HER. On the outskirts of Jacobsville, a squad car threw on its blue lights and pulled her over. She slumped over the wheel as the officer, whom she recognized from her standoff with Marco, walked to her side.

  Holding his ticket book, Kilraven started to date a ticket without looking down. “May I see your license and registration, ma’am?” he asked courteously.

  “The minute…you get me…to a hospital,” she panted, and turned her white face up to his. “I think I’m…losing my baby,” she added, and her voice broke.

  “Good God!” he exclaimed.

  He pulled open the door, unfastened her seat belt, and carried her, as if she weighed nothing, to the passenger side of his squad car. He put her in, gently, and fastened the seat belt. All the time, he was talking into his portable. “I’m on my way in with a pregnant woman who may be miscarrying her child,” he said curtly. “Have them meet me at the emergency room entrance. There’s no time to wait for an ambulance.”

  “Ten-four,” dispatch replied. “Can you identify the patient?”

  “Gloryanne Barnes,” he told her immediately. “Notify Dr. Lou Coltrain.”

  “That’s a ten-four. Dispatch clear at eleven-twenty hours.”

  “My…purse, and keys,” she managed between bouts of excruciating pain.

  He ran to get them, locking the car and racing back to get in under the wheel. He put the purse, keys inside, on the floorboard beside her, started the car and laid down rubber getting out into the highway.

  “Laying drags,” she managed. “They’ll hang you for that.”

  He laughed, silver eyes flashing as he glanced at her. “You sound like a lawyer.”

  “I am a lawyer.”

  “I know.”

  She would have pursued that, but the pain doubled her up, in spite of the seat belt. Tears were rolling down her cheeks all the short drive to the hospital.

  The rest was a b
lur of pain and loud voices, hands lifting her, and very soon, Lou Coltrain’s gentle, calming voice. Something stung her arm. Then, peace.

  When she opened her eyes again, Kilraven, the tall, good-looking policeman who’d brought her in was standing beside the bed, watching her with eyes so pale a shade of gray that they gleamed like silver against his olive complexion and jet-black hair.

  “You brought me in,” she murmured drowsily.

  “Yes.”

  She touched her flat belly and started to cry silently. She knew her child was gone. She could feel the emptiness. “I lost my baby, didn’t I?”

  His mouth made a straight line. “I’m sorry.”

  She looked up at him in anguish.

  “It gets better,” he said stiffly. “It just takes time.”

  “Have you…lost a child?”

  His mouth made a thin line. “Yes.”

  She had to fight to breathe. Her cheeks were flushed. Her heartbeat was moving the sheet that covered her.

  He pushed the intercom button and said something into it, very softly. Seconds later, a nurse bustled in and checked her vitals. She grimaced.

  “Just lie still,” she said gently. “I’ll be right back.”

  “What is it?” she asked the officer.

  “They’ll hang me if I tell you.”

  She studied him. “They wouldn’t dare. Tell me.”

  His broad chest expanded under the uniform. “I think you’re having a heart attack.”

  She nodded. “That’s what…I think, too.”

  The nurse was back with Dr. Copper Coltrain. He checked her vitals, looked at her chart and whispered something to the nurse, who nodded and scurried out of the room.

  “Heart attack.” Glory murmured drowsily.

  “I don’t think so. An episode of angina, probably, but we’ll run tests.” He glared at the officer. “She can’t have visitors,” he said flatly.

  Kilraven clasped his hands behind his back and stood at parade rest. He didn’t move. His silver eyes dared Coltrain to evict him.

  “He saved me,” Glory protested. “I’d never have made it on my own.”

  Coltrain’s evil expression mellowed, just a little. The nurse came back and handed him a syringe. He injected it into Glory. She managed a weak smile and everything faded away again.

  THE NEXT TWO DAYS were a blur. She awoke to an ungodly noise outside her room. She recognized Sheriff Hayes Carson’s deep voice cursing. She wondered if he did it often, because he was using some odd phrases.

  “Crackers and milk!” Carson exploded. “I’m not serving damned divorce papers on a woman in her condition!” he was yelling into his cell phone. “You tell your damned client if he wants them served, he can come right down here to Jacobsville General and serve them himself!”

  “You’re disturbing the patients,” Lou Coltrain chided.

  “Sorry,” Hayes muttered sheepishly. “It was unavoidable.”

  He and Lou exchanged a meaningful look. They didn’t go inside and tell Glory anything. Which was a shame. Because three hours later, her husband walked into her room unannounced and stared at her as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.

  “What do you want?” she asked icily.

  “Your sheriff refused to serve divorce papers on you.” He started to pull them out of his pocket, but he hesitated. She looked worn out, heartsick, exhausted. “What the hell are you doing in here? Is it your hip again?”

  Her green eyes flashed at him. “What do you care?” she asked. “You didn’t even ask me why I’d come to see you. You think I’m mercenary, do you? You think money is all I want out of life.”

  His teeth clenched. “That’s all women have ever wanted from me,” he said coldly. “Except…”

  “Except for Sarina,” she finished for him. “But you can’t have her, can you? I guess Conchita is your present consolation. Pity I didn’t know that I was standing in for your ex-partner!”

  His eyes darkened and he smiled coolly. His pride stung and he retaliated, “You were a poor substitute.”

  That was the absolute last straw. “Get out!” she shouted, sitting up. The action made her feel faint. She felt her heart racing wildly, in spite of the drugs they were giving her.

  “Shall I leave the divorce papers on the table before I go?” he taunted.

  “I’ll tell you where to put them, and how far. Get out!” she yelled. “Get out!”

  Copper Coltrain burst into the room like a redheaded tornado. “Get out of here,” he said in a furious undertone. “Right now.”

  “I’m talking to my wife…” Rodrigo shot back.

  Coltrain dragged him out of the room. “She had an attack of angina soon after she was brought in. She has extremely high blood pressure, and she’s already had one heart attack before she came down here to Jacobsville!” he said icily. “Her blood pressure has been worse since she lost the baby, two days ago…”

  “Baby?” Rodrigo leaned against the wall. His horrified dark eyes held Coltrain’s blue ones unblinking. His olive complexion faded to the color of oatmeal. “She was pregnant?!”

  “Yes.” Coltrain scowled. “Surely you knew?”

  Rodrigo slumped back against the wall and closed his eyes. Glory had come to Houston to tell him something, and he wouldn’t let her speak. She was pregnant. She’d come to tell him about the baby. He’d sent her away, upset her. A heart attack. High blood pressure. It would be dangerous for her to have a child. He knew she was prone to attacks of faintness, but he’d dismissed it, paying more attention to her bad hip. She’d said she didn’t want children. It was a lie. Her health made it life-threatening, and he hadn’t even known. God forgive me, he thought. Dear God, forgive me!

  “I said things to her in there,” Rodrigo said heavily. “It angered me that she came to my apartment in Houston and then walked away without even talking to me. I thought she’d come to ask for money…” His eyes closed. “I knew nothing about any of this.”

  “For a married man, you’re damned uninformed about your wife.”

  “I filed for divorce,” Rodrigo said in a haunted tone. “My attorney said the sheriff refused to serve the papers on her, and called me. I thought maybe she was in traction for her hip…” His face was drawn. “I should be horsewhipped for what I said to her.”

  “An apology wouldn’t be out of place.”

  He looked at the other man evenly. “I’m not going to upset her any more than I already have. She’ll be all right?”

  Coltrain nodded. “She’s already under the care of a heart specialist.”

  “Good. Good. If she needs anything…”

  “She has good insurance. We’ll take care of her.”

  Rodrigo stood erect. He started to speak, but he only shrugged. He was ashamed of himself. Glory had done nothing to deserve such treatment from him. He’d been horrible to her, and not just today. He didn’t understand himself. Not at all.

  Coltrain moved away. He could read people very well. This man had no idea what was going on. Maybe it was just as well that he hadn’t known, if he was divorcing Glory. Good riddance, Coltrain thought. She deserved better.

  The officer who brought Glory in, Kilraven, wandered back from the canteen and watched the woman’s husband staring at her door. One of the nurses had identified him to Kilraven, who was feeling anger at the man for what Hayes Carson had said.

  “She’s been through a lot,” he told the tall, dark man. “She doesn’t need any more upsets.”

  Rodrigo looked at him coldly. “I didn’t come here to upset her. Nobody told me she’d had a miscarriage. I didn’t even know she was pregnant.”

  The older man’s silver eyes narrowed. “I heard. Pity you want to live in the past.” His head jerked toward Glory’s room. “That one has more grit and courage than any woman I’ve ever known.”

  “Yes,” Rodrigo replied, feeling empty. “But she and I are as incompatible as any two people have ever been. She’ll be better off without me.”


  Kilraven smiled coldly. “My thoughts exactly.”

  Rodrigo didn’t like the arrogance in that smile, and he had to restrain his first impulse, which was to deck the man. This wasn’t the place. Besides that, he was feeling particularly guilty. If he hadn’t been so cruel to Glory, perhaps she wouldn’t have lost his child. His child. He was responsible for its loss. Surely he could have found a kinder way to get Glory out of his life!

  “I’ll take care of her,” Kilraven said, breaking into his thoughts. “The divorce will help her heal.” His silver eyes glittered. “From what I’ve seen, she’s never done anything in her life bad enough to deserve you as a husband.”

  Rodrigo’s black eyes glittered as well. “She couldn’t wait to replace me, could she?” he asked icily. “You’re welcome to her. She would never have fit into my world.”

  He turned and walked away. Kilraven had made him murderously angry. Glory was still his wife. He could keep her; he didn’t have to sign divorce papers. But the guilt ate away at him. His child was gone. She’d never forgive him for its loss. He’d never forgive himself.

  On his way out, he almost collided with tall, handsome Jason Pendleton and his stepsister, little blond Gracie.

  “Rodrigo,” Jason greeted him nonchalantly. “We heard about the drug bust. Good work.”

  Rodrigo wasn’t paying attention. He was still seeing Glory’s tragic face and damning himself for his part in it. “Yes.” He tried to sound interested. “What are you two doing here?”

  “Visiting a family member,” Jason said, scowling. “Are you all right?”

  “Not really. I have to go. Good to see you both.”

  They watched him walk away with open curiosity.

  “He’s a strange man,” Gracie mused.

  “All men are strange,” Jason said wickedly, and grinned when she flushed and laughed. “Come on. Let’s see what we can do for our Glory.”

  GLORY TOOK A COUPLE of weeks off for tests, and to come to grips with her grief at the loss of her child. Her boss was good to her, giving her time off when she needed it and arranging for someone to cover for her when she had the heart catheterization. In the end they did a balloon angioplasty to blow out the plaque that was blocking an artery. Afterward she worked hard at her diet, took her medicine regularly and tried to convince herself that she could still manage her high-stress job despite the blood pressure that responded best to drugs when she was away from work. The doctor warned her quite bluntly that she had a congenital heart defect that had become more serious as she aged. He added that even with her lifestyle changes, she could die if she didn’t find something less stressful to do for a living. It was the same old spiel, but she wasn’t listening. She didn’t care anymore. She’d lost her child and her husband, and the job wasn’t enough to hold her to the world. But she did it with fervor and flair, going after evidence from witnesses like a bloodhound on the trail of a killer. Defense attorneys started to groan the minute she walked into the courtroom. Miss Barnes, they confided, could take rust off battleships with that tongue.