Wesley elbowed her.
“I mean, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“How’s your shoulder?” Jack asked.
“Fine,” she murmured.
“We’re fine,” Wesley added in a pointed voice.
Jack’s gold-colored eyes were bloodshot and although his shirt was fresh, his rumpled jacket and tie told a different story: He hadn’t slept since placing Randolph under arrest the previous day.
“What are you doing here?” Wes pressed.
“I thought you might be here early,” Jack said, evading the question. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
He was talking to her, but Wes angled himself between them. “Get out of our way. If you hadn’t wanted to be a big bad-ass hero, we could be catching up with Dad around our kitchen table right now.”
Jack pursed his mouth. “I was only doing my job.”
“Right,” Wes said dryly, then jerked his head toward the door. “You can leave now.”
“I want to be here for Carlotta.”
Carlotta crossed her arms. The men had apparently forgotten she was there.
“This is a family affair,” Wes said. “Are you looking to join the family, Detective?”
Okay, that made her smile a little. Wes knew one of Jack’s pressure points—commitment. She enjoyed watching the big man squirm before she put him out of his misery.
“This was nice of you, Jack, but…” She trailed off because something behind her had caught his attention, and from the expression on his face, it wasn’t glad tidings.
She turned to see GBI agents Wick and Green walking toward them, and immediately stiffened. The men had worked The Charmed Killer case and had not only grilled her mercilessly about her family’s “connections” to the case, but when they had finally made an arrest, the agents had dismissed her declaration that they had the wrong person in custody. The pair made an odd couple visually—Wick, a tall, slim black man, and Green, a short, stocky white guy—but they seemed to play off each other to good—and irritating—advantage.
“Good morning,” Agent Wick said, his smile tight.
“I see the gang’s all here,” Green added. “Hooray—that’ll save me a few phone calls.”
“What do you mean?” Jack asked, widening his stance.
“We’ve been asked to relocate Randolph Wren,” Wick said, pulling a thick set of folded documents out of his jacket pocket and holding it up. “To USP.”
Carlotta swung her gaze to Jack. “What does that mean?”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “They’re moving your father to the United States Penitentiary across town.”
“The federal pen?” she asked.
He nodded, then looked back to the agents. “When?”
Green checked his watch. “Let’s see…uh—now.”
“After his children have had a chance to talk to him,” Jack added.
“Afraid not,” Wick said, shaking his head. “They’ll have to wait until he’s settled at USP.”
Panic spurred Carlotta forward a step. “But we’ve been waiting for over ten years.”
Green gave a little shrug. “We have our orders. Your father belongs to the feds now.”
Wes lunged forward, his hands balled into fists. “You assholes!”
Jack clamped his hand on Wes’s shoulder. “Relax,” he said in a low voice.
“You better watch your temper there,” Green snapped. “Assaulting an agent will get you a jumpsuit to match your daddy’s.”
“We’re good,” Jack said cheerfully, but visibly tightened his grip on Wes.
Carlotta’s stomach plummeted in abject disappointment that the family reunion might not happen, but her heart went out to Wesley, whose eyes glittered with angry tears. She’d at least had brief contact with Randolph in the past year—once he’d passed her a note that she’d found later, and once he’d engaged her in conversation while in disguise. And she’d seen him fleetingly yesterday when he’d saved her life. She had a face and a voice as proof her father was still alive, but Wes had nothing concrete to cling to.
“I would’ve thought you two would be busy dealing with The Charmed Killer,” Carlotta said wryly, “seeing as how now you’ve got the right man and all.”
Jack made a noise that could’ve been a cough or a laugh.
“We’re trained to multi-task,” Wick said, matching her tone.
Carlotta ground her teeth, but realized she needed to change tack. “Gentlemen, surely there’s some way we can see Randolph before you transport him?” She wasn’t beneath batting her eyelashes. Flap, flap.
Green made a clicking noise in his throat. “No can do, little lady. But we’ll tell him you said hello.”
Jack must’ve realized Carlotta wanted to punch the man in the face, because his other hand shot out to clasp her forearm and give her a warning squeeze.
“Yes,” Jack said to the men. “Tell Randolph his children will see him at the federal detention center as soon as possible.”
Wick’s gaze bounced back and forth between the three of them. “Do you babysit in your free time, Terry?”
Jack gave a little laugh. “Funny. If you two jackasses don’t move along, I’m going to turn these two loose and look the other way.”
Green scowled. “You got a bad attitude, boy.”
Jack’s smile didn’t waver. “So I’ve been told.”
He maintained his hold on them until Wick and Green walked away, then released them with a grunt. Wes swiped at his eyes, his body shaking with fury. “I don’t believe this!”
“But we can go now to USP, can’t we?” Carlotta asked. “We’ll follow them.”
Jack shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that. It’ll take a while to process him, and then the feds will want their time with him.” He sighed. “I know this sucks, but you’ve both waited a long time to talk to Randolph, and a couple of more days isn’t going to kill you.”
“Shut up.” Wes stabbed his finger in the air for emphasis. “You’re the one who arrested him, for God’s sake. And if you hadn’t stopped us just now, we would’ve already been back there, talking to our dad.” He was near tears again. “Why don’t you mind your own damn business?”
They were attracting attention from the security guards. Jack flashed his badge and gave them a signal that he had the situation under control.
Then he jammed his hands on his hips and looked at Carlotta. “Do you feel the same?”
She bit into her lower lip, her mind spinning. How did she feel about Jack being so involved in their lives? Her mind changed like the weather. Some days she wished their paths had never crossed…although the dream she’d had about the “other place” made her think they had been fated to meet, no matter what. And there was no arguing he’d saved her butt more than once, the confounding man. And the sex…well, the detective had skills not listable on LinkedIn.
Although Wes had a point that if Jack hadn’t insisted on dragging Randolph away from the townhome, that if he’d only given them an hour as a family to talk before he slapped on the cuffs, they wouldn’t be standing here right now, with Wes feeling as if he was never going to see his father with his own eyes.
“Carlotta?” Jack prompted.
“I feel…” Under his gaze and Wesley’s, her voice faltered, then she tried again. “That is, maybe we could use a break from each other, Jack.”
Jack’s expression clouded, then he nodded. “Loud and clear.” He turned toward the entrance, and she wanted to reach out to him, take back the words. Why was everything between them so tricky?
Suddenly he turned back. “Actually, why don’t both of you take a walk with me to my car?”
“Gee, that didn’t last long,” Wes said sarcastically.
“One walk,” Jack said. “Then I’ll step back from the Wrens.”
“Why should we?” Wes asked.
Jack massaged the bridge of his nose. “Trust me this once?” He swept his arm forward for Carlotta and Wes to precede him
out the building.
Carlotta moved self-consciously, hoping this wasn’t a ruse to place Wesley under arrest for something, like driving with a suspended license.
He led them to a special parking lot for law enforcement vehicles. When they reached his dark sedan, he gestured. “Get in.”
Wes gave her a questioning glance, but she only shrugged. Jack held open the front passenger side door for her. She slid inside, thinking it had been a while since she’d ridden shotgun with him. Detective Maria Marquez had most recently occupied this spot. A pang of grief for the woman barbed through her heart. She had been jealous of the camaraderie the beautiful woman shared with Jack, but she was as shocked and saddened as everyone else when Maria had been killed.
It seemed as if Jack was destined to be alone.
Wes climbed in the back seat, his expression sullen and closed.
When Jack settled into the driver’s seat and turned over the ignition, Wes popped up. “Where the hell are we going?”
Jack threw a frown over his shoulder. “You really should clean up your language.”
“Fuck you.”
“Nice,” Jack said blandly. “I told you to trust me. And sink down so everyone can’t see your fat head.”
Wes flounced back in the seat, but did as he was told. Carlotta raised her eyebrows at Jack and he gave her a reassuring wink. He guided the car around the lot to a spot close to the building, and killed the engine. They sat in perplexed silence for a few minutes. When Carlotta tired of watching Jack play with the gadgets on his dashboard, she sighed and gave him a withering look. Then Jack lifted his hand and pointed to her right.
She turned her head to see Wick and Green appear around the corner of the building about fifty feet away.
And between them, handcuffed and dressed in a gray jumpsuit, was Randolph.
A lump of emotion sprang to her throat.
“This is total bullshit,” Wes said, oblivious to what was happening.
“Wes.” Her voice vibrated. “Look.”
He looked out the window, then sprang up in his seat. “Dad! It’s Dad!” He scrambled to open the door, which wasn’t possible, of course, because Jack had locked them in.
“You can’t get out,” Jack said. “And he can’t see in. Be quiet and enjoy the moment.”
They did. Carlotta had her nose pressed against the window, drinking in the sight of her father. He was still tall and fit, but not as robust and tan as she remembered. He obviously wasn’t getting in as much golf and tennis as he used to. And his hair had silvered around the temples and sideburns. He appeared to be healthy, though, and sure-footed. As the agents led him to a car, he tilted his face to look up at the sun, as if he might be afraid he’d never see it again.
She glanced back and saw that Wesley had his face and both hands planted against the window, his mouth slightly ajar. “It’s really him,” he whispered. “He really is alive.”
Carlotta smiled, then turned and reached for Jack’s hand to give it a grateful squeeze. He squeezed back.
Randolph glanced all around, as if he were looking for someone…looking for them? His gaze passed over the Jack’s car, and for a few seconds, Carlotta felt as if he was looking directly at her. She held her breath.
Suddenly, Wes had lunged over the front seat between them, his hands aimed for the steering wheel, his feet off the floor. The horn blasted into the air. “We’re here, Dad!” he shouted. “It’s Wes and Carlotta—we’re here!”
Several ear-splitting seconds had passed before Jack could shove Wes back into the seat. “Stay there,” he bellowed.
The agents had both drawn their weapons, and Randolph was riveted to their car, his eyes and body alert. Wick hustled him into the rear seat of their car, and Green barreled toward Jack’s sedan.
“This should be fun,” Jack muttered. He glanced at Wesley. “If you try to draw attention to yourself again, I’ll have to shoot you, and you’ll never get to talk to your dad, got it?”
Carlotta pressed her lips together. Jack was bluffing, of course, but the part about not getting to talk to their dad must’ve hit home, because Wes frowned, but nodded.
Jack stepped out of the car and closed the door.
Carlotta shot Wes a reproving glance over the seat. “Jack was trying to do something nice.”
Wes shrugged. “At least Dad knows we were here.”
“Only if the agents tell him.”
“We can tell him later it was us,” Wes said, undaunted.
Outside, she saw Jack was getting a tongue-lashing from Green, punctuated with lots of air chops. She winced. Jack lifted his hands in a sign of mute surrender and the agent backed up, glaring until he reached his car and swung inside. The car sped away with more gusto than necessary, leaving a swirl of dust in its wake.
Jack climbed back into the car and sighed. “That was a dumb move, Wes.”
Wes grinned. “I’m only nineteen—I do dumb things.”
Jack gave Carlotta an exasperated look. She mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
But Wes was bouncing in the backseat. “Did you see him, Sis? Doesn’t he look great?”
His excitement was infectious and she laughed. “I did, and he does.”
“Oh my freaking God,” Wes said, still bouncing. “This is the best day of my life!”
“Easy on the springs back there,” Jack said sourly as he started the car.
Carlotta laid a hand on his arm. “Thank you, Jack.”
“Don’t mention it—and I mean that. I’m already in enough trouble. Where are you parked?”
She told him the way, her pulse clicking higher as they approached her car. Wes was still talking to no one in particular about how awesome it was to see Randolph, and he couldn’t wait to talk to him.
As soon as the car stopped, Wesley said, “Gotta run, Sis—I’ll call you later.”
“Wait outside for a minute, would you, Wes?” Jack asked. “I need a word.”
Wes frowned. “Do I have a choice?”
“Nope.”
He rolled his eyes. “Okay.” Then he banged his way out of the car, and walked toward the bike rack.
Jack turned back to her. “Visiting or calling USP requires some paperwork and protocol. If you run into any snags, give Brooklyn a call.”
Not him, but the lady who kept the Midtown precinct in order. Carlotta could already feel his detachment, and bitterly regretted her earlier words. “Jack…about what I said—”
“You’re right,” he said. “Now that Randolph is in custody, it’s important that we maintain a certain amount of distance.”
She nodded. “Okay. But I’m not happy about this.”
“I’m sure Peter will be.”
She decided not to respond.
“I assume your Vegas trip got postponed?”
“Yes.”
His dark eyebrows climbed. “Well, then I’ve got something to be happy about, too.”
She gave him a light punch in the arm, then sobered. “Jack, did Randolph say anything to you after you arrested him?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did he mention…our mother?”
A shadow fell over his eyes. “No. I’m sorry. I tried to draw him out, but he didn’t say a word on the ride to the jail or while he was being booked. He wouldn’t even make eye contact.”
Although she wasn’t surprised, her heart dragged with disappointment. She reached for the door handle. “I should go.”
“So,” he said with a little smile, “I guess I won’t be seeing you around.”
“I guess not,” she said breezily.
His gaze caught hers and unreadable emotions flitted over his face. This man could make her feel so much…but was it because they were always enmeshed in a crisis? Adrenaline could be a powerful aphrodisiac…but would ultimately lead to a plunging crash.
Carlotta moistened her lips. Then before she did something crazy—like vault across the seat and straddle him—she lifted the door handle and escaped.
>
Plus ten points.
Then she frowned. No, wait—minus ten.
Chapter Three
WES UNLOCKED HIS BIKE and expelled a sigh of relief when Carlotta emerged from Jack’s car and retreated to her rental. He got nervous when those two were together—he was always afraid Carlotta was going to…leave.
Or be left.
He didn’t worry as much when she was with Peter—he would do right by her. And so would Coop.
He walked his bike to the curb as Jack climbed out and walked toward him in his action-hero swagger. Wes smirked. Even a love-idiot like him could see that any woman who attached herself to this guy was going to pay for it tenfold in the long run. In his professional life, sure—Jack saved women and babies from burning buildings. But in his personal life, he was a little less noble.
Not that Wes had time to worry about it—he had his own problems. Just when he’d gotten clean from the Oxycontin and things were looking up with his coworker Meg Vincent, he’d gotten a call from Liz Fischer, his attorney and occasional booty call—
Although, come to think of it, maybe he was the booty since Liz did the calling?
Regardless of who or whom, there was a new development: Liz was pregnant.
With a baby.
When she’d told him on the phone, the memory of a busted condom has flashed in his mind and he’d promptly fainted. Mouse had brought him back around with a face full of pink lemonade Icee. And while he’d been trying to deal with that little earthquake, Carlotta had called with the news that had shifted his life another ninety degrees—Randolph was back.
Their dad was back.
He wiped a hand over his inadvertent grin—wow. It was surreal seeing his father again, like seeing a ghost. Sometimes he wondered if he actually remembered his parents, or if he’d simply memorized the photos. He was still pissed he hadn’t gotten to talk to Randolph, to hear his voice and once and for all get his side of the story, but just the knowledge that he was alive and safe was a huge relief.
He took a deep breath. And Randolph’s appearance had given him some clarity on what he needed to do where Liz was concerned.
Jack strode up to him. “That was a bonehead move back there. And you’re welcome.”
7 Brides for 7 Bodies Page 2
