by Julie Miller
In an oblique turn of thought, Maddie lifted her gaze to his without really answering his question. “Why are you here? You said you wanted nothing to do with me or my family.”
Edged with shadows she didn’t understand, those gray-green eyes looked deeply into hers. “Some fights a man can’t walk away from—no matter how much he wants to.”
So he was here out of duty, not choice.
Despite the fact that she couldn’t stop shivering, a self-conscious heat crept across her skin, “How did we become your fight?”
Dwight shrugged out of his jacket. With an efficiency of motion she was quickly getting used to, he draped the light-gray gabardine jacket around her shoulders, surrounding her in a bear-sized hug of earthy smells and warmth. “Sit.”
Obeying the brusque invitation, Maddie gripped the lapels of his coat together and sank into the closest chair. Any sense of caring was fleeting. His unexpected consideration frightened her more than his gruff bouts of temper had.
He said nothing to soften the shock. He simply pulled out the chair beside her, leaned forward and spelled out a nightmare in that matter-of-fact way of his. “Joe Rinaldi stabbed his escort detail while he was being transferred back to lockup in Jefferson City earlier this evening. One guard is dead, the second in critical condition. His escape was planned and executed with outside help. He drove off with two men—one large, one small is all the description we have. The highway patrol, FBI and local precincts from the capital to Kansas City are looking for him.”
“Joe has escaped?” Maddie snuggled down inside the jacket, clinging to the only warmth she could find. “He’s here? In Kansas City?”
“We don’t know that yet.” A sharp rap at her front door told her the uniformed officers had returned. Dwight rose and headed for the door. “But the car he left the hospital in had Kansas City plates.”
Maddie stood and followed, needing the answers only he seemed able to provide. “So you think he’s on his way here?”
“Most likely. That’s why I tried to call. I remember threats he made at the trial—to both of us. And if he knows about the kid…” He left the ominous possibilities hanging in the air as he unlocked the door. Dwight blocked the opening while the young officer reported in.
“Everything’s clear, sir.” The twenty-something man deferred to Dwight’s air of authority as if Dwight were a ranking officer at KCPD. “The TAC team in the van says Ms. McCallister kept Rinaldi on the line long enough to trace the call’s origin to a truck stop about sixty miles west of here. Chances are, the perp’s moved on, but they’ve already notified the highway patrol.”
Only sixty miles away?
“Good work, officer.” The young man shuffled on his feet. Dwight picked up on the same nervous hesitation Maddie did. “What else?”
“Sorry about the mix-up before—with the guns and everything. Next time you drop by to visit, sir, give us a heads-up. I didn’t realize you two were friends.”
Friends? His tone even indicated the officer thought she and Dwight were something more. Probably because of the worn cotton gown she’d been parading around in, or the late hour, or the suit coat now draped over her shoulders.
But before she could correct the shorter man on his erroneous assumption, Dwight spoke. “You were doing your job. Until you hear otherwise, I expect you to be as vigilant with anyone who comes to this house.”
“Yes, sir. You can count on me.” The officer peeked around Dwight’s shoulder and tipped the brim of his hat. “Ma’am.”
Maddie nodded her thanks and Dwight closed and locked the door. “What am I supposed to do now? Wait until Joe shows up? Pray he doesn’t find Katie first?”
“Does Rinaldi know where you live?”
“Of course.”
“Then put some clothes on and pack a bag.” Dwight gestured toward the kitchen. “One for the kid, too. We’re getting out of here.”
“MAYBE THIS ISN’T such a good idea. That cop thought we were a couple. Throw in a baby and people will talk.”
Dwight halted beneath the chandelier of his front hall and bit back a curse. Carrying two suitcases and a ton of misgivings, he wondered what the hell had possessed him to make such an impulsive invitation. And why the redhead who’d planted herself in his open doorway had such a hard time accepting.
He turned to face Maddie. “We talked about this in the car.”
She stood with the baby carrier hooked over one arm and a purse and diaper bag draped over the other. “You said we were going someplace Joe couldn’t find us. I didn’t think you meant you wanted us to move in with you. We barely know each other. I won’t put you out like this.”
“Now’s hardly the time to worry about decorum or convenience. I promise to keep my hands to myself if you’ll do the same.”
Rosy dots spotted her cheeks. The woman broadcast every emotion on that pale, milky skin—embarrassment, fear, joy, desire. She sent other nonverbal signals, too. Ones he doubted she was even aware of. Like the tight press of her lips and the determined angle of her chin—both good indicators that she had more to say. “If school was in session, I’d have to be careful about being seen shacking up with a guy. Half of KCPD already has the mistaken impression that you and I are old friends.”
“Shacking up?” He hadn’t heard that term for a while. What exactly did Ms. Spinster McCallister think he’d invited her to do?
“On second thought, DFS might not think too highly of us living together. We can’t stay.”
Dwight dropped the suitcases at his feet and searched for a logical argument. “Katie left Tyler to me in the first place. I don’t think DFS would care if we shared guardianship for a few nights. I’ll square it with the judge at your hearing if she has a problem with it.”
Maddie’s lips curled into a kissable pout and his weary body leaped to attention. Crazy. Thus far, he’d been the only one with grabby hands and a roving eye. But each time he’d touched her or studied her, it had been for a practical purpose. To save his skull, to keep her calm, to erase the goosebumps on her skin, to keep his eyes from staring at the dusky tips of her full, round breasts he’d been able to see through the translucent cotton of that plain, white, incredibly sexy nightgown. But his dysfunctional hormones couldn’t seem to grasp the idea that Maddie McCallister wasn’t sending out any intentionally seductive signals.
Nah, right now those lips just meant she was thinking of more ways to make his life difficult. “Doesn’t Joe know where you live, too?” she asked.
“He could look it up in the phone book and find out.”
“So we’re not really safe here, either.”
“At the moment, he’s looking for you and Tyler, not me.”
“But you’re the man who sent him to prison.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Not if you’re busy looking out for us.”
There were a hundred hotels in the Kansas City area where he could have put his guests up for the night. There were women’s shelters. Safe houses. Halfway houses.
But no, he’d driven straight south through downtown and headed for his residence off Ward Parkway. Practicality said it was smart to be on home turf—he knew the neighborhood and would immediately recognize anything or anyone out of place. The remodeled 1920s Tudor home had fifteen rooms, making it easy for him to still maintain the solitude he needed. And one of the perks of being an assistant district attorney was the necessity of the state-of-the-art security system he’d installed.
If he was going to protect anyone from Joe Rinaldi, this was the place to be.
Now if he could only get Maddie McCallister to revert to that shy mouse he once knew, get her pretty little butt inside and start cooperating. He opted for a completely different tactic. “You’re letting the air-conditioning out. Close the door.”
“Oh, sorry.” Maddie set the carrier down on the black-and-white tiled floor and finally shut the door behind her. But she didn’t move any closer.
Interesting.
Dwight scratched at the grizzly stubble of his jaw. He didn’t give one wit about the utility bill at this late hour of the night, but appealing to her overdeveloped sense of responsibility had done the trick. He’d have to remember that.
With the hope of a few hours of slightly less-guilt-ridden sleep still in hand, Dwight crossed the room. She moved farther into the foyer to avoid contact as he reached behind her to lock the dead bolt and set the security system on the keypad beside the door.
She looked around, taking in the austere tidiness of a house that was just a house. “Wow. This is…big.”
He wasn’t looking for compliments. “If I take your suitcases upstairs, will you come with them?”
“I can’t stay.”
Well, by damn, at least her bags were spending the night. He picked them up and headed for the stairs. “This way.”
He heard the crunch of plastic rubbing against plastic and knew that she’d picked up the baby carrier to follow—to continue the debate if nothing else.
“What if Katie calls?”
“She can still reach you on your cell.”
“What if she doesn’t have enough change to make more than one call?”
“Maddie.”
“What if Katie shows up at the house looking for me?”
“The cops will be there.”
“But—”
Dwight turned with a huff on the step above her and looked down at her startled face. “What if Joe Rinaldi shows up?”
He watched that reality blanch the color from her cheeks.
There. He’d finally ended the debate.
So why didn’t it feel like much of a victory?
It probably had something to do with that blue gaze blurring in focus and dropping to the middle of his chest. Without the adrenaline of battle to warm her skin, the shadows of fatigue and worry deepened beneath her eyes.
If the load she carried would have allowed it, she’d have curled her arms up into that same self-preserving hug that had prompted him to give her his jacket earlier that night. The same jacket he wanted to strip off and wrap around her again, since hugging her himself was out of the question.
For his own peace of mind, he needed to get her settled out of harm’s way and put some distance between them. “Look, I’m sorry. I can be blunt.”
“I noticed.” Her eyes were bluer, deeper and focused when she tipped her chin to him again. “But you’re right. I can’t let Joe get to his grandson.”
He turned away from her soft, brave smile before he tried to buck her up with some useless platitude. “Up here.”
“It’s just that I’ve felt helpless since Katie first disappeared.”
Dwight shook his head. He should have known better than to think the discussion was over.
“Now that there’s finally something I can do to help find her—to wait for her to call or come for Tyler—I don’t want to run away and hide.”
He turned to the right and nudged open the first door past the landing. “There’s a difference between running away and making a smart move. If Rinaldi gets to you, Katie loses her strongest ally. If he gets to Tyler—”
“She loses her best reason to come home.” Maddie flipped the light switch on behind him and set her bags and the baby on the bed. She unswaddled the blanket and cooed some silly words about her “good boy” before lifting each tiny fist and kissing it. “I won’t let Joe hurt anyone else in this family.”
Neither would he.
Dwight set the suitcases beside the dresser. “KCPD will continue a watch on your house. If either Katie or her father makes an appearance, they’ll call us. I have to be in court tomorrow at ten, but I’ll make sure there’s an officer here before I leave.”
He could see that Tyler was awake and that his tiny blue eyes seemed to follow the sound of his voice. Right. Time to go. “The bathroom’s next door. The linen closet’s on the other side of that.” Braden had been three months old before he slept through the night, but Dwight wasn’t volunteering for any feedings. “If you need the kitchen to heat a bottle, it’s on the first floor, back of the house. Help yourself to whatever you need.”
Dwight would have made a quick exit and called it a night, but Maddie stopped him at the door with a gentle hand on his arm. “If there’s a smarter way to handle this, we’ll think of it tomorrow. Okay?”
He looked into her earnest expression and saw a spark of the fire that had both captivated and confounded him. “Fine. In the meantime, give my conscience a rest. Accept my hospitality and go to bed. Rinaldi won’t find you here tonight.”
Pulling away, Dwight strode toward his own bedroom at the far end of the hall.
He almost grinned when he heard her follow him out the door to get the last word. Almost.
“Do you always get your way, Mr. Powers?”
Wry laughter echoed inside his head but found no outlet. Yeah, right. He always got what he wanted. That’s why he had this hardheaded woman with the ingenuous eyes and die-hard loyalty to her family staying in his house tonight. Invading his sanctuary with her questions and curves—and baby.
Yeah, he always got what he wanted. That’s why he was all alone in this oversized house with nothing but his nightmares and guilt to keep him company.
Dwight turned at the door to his room. “Good night, Ms. McCallister.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
He didn’t intend to.
“Good night, Mr. Powers.” She smiled and closed the door.
Dwight waited there a moment, in the silence and shadows of the landing. That woman needed to stop smiling at him. Didn’t she understand it was a wasted effort?
Chapter Five
Dwight leaned inside the driver’s side window and gave his wife a kiss.
Oh, God, no. He didn’t want to dream this again. He rolled over in his sleep but couldn’t wake himself. The beauty of it all was just a cruel trick. A reminder of all he had lost and would never risk having again.
But he couldn’t wake up. He was forced to remember.
Alicia’s chocolate-brown eyes warmed with the love they’d shared since their first year of law school together at Mizzou. “Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind and skip town with us? We could leave Braden with Mom and Dad and stay at a bed-and-breakfast all by ourselves.” She reached up and twirled her fingers through his tie. “I’d love to get a little us-time, wouldn’t you?”
Dwight let his gaze slip to his son in the backseat. The little guy was babbling his first coherent sounds and pounding his stuffed tiger against the side of the car seat. Way to go, champ. Braden was going to grow up with a mean left hook, just like his daddy.
“Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.” He willingly dragged his gaze back to the slender brunette beauty in the front seat. “You know duty calls.”
His chest swelled with the arrogance of a man about to embark on a mission in which he knew his enemy would be begging for mercy. He was young, moving up the ladder at the DA’s office, damn good at his job and about to prove it to the world. “Today’s the grand jury hearing on Arnie Sanchez. I intend to nail him to the wall and make good on every indictment.”
Alicia tugged on his tie. “That’s my hero. Slaving away to make Kansas City safe from the bad guys.”
“Sanchez is one of the worst. But I’ve got him on racketeering, narcotics distribution, witness intimidation, tax evasion, conspiracy to commit—”
“I love when you talk shop, counselor.” She pulled him in for another kiss, wished him luck and said goodbye.
While she started the engine, Dwight circled around and opened the back door to give Braden one more kiss.
“Da, da, da, da, da.”
“That’s right, champ. I’m your daddy.” He beamed, attributing each and every gurgle of sound to his nine-month-old’s enormous intelligence. “Take care of Mommy for me.”
Dwight glanced at his watch. He needed to be downtown at the courthouse in an hour. Today was the day he made a name
for himself. Nothing would stop him from making the charges stick on Sanchez and putting himself on the fast track to becoming K.C.’s future district attorney. “Gotta run. Drive safely.”
Braden’s tiger fell to the floor and he opened his mouth and wailed at the loss. Dwight quickly grabbed the toy, tossed it back into his son’s arms and shut the door. He stepped away as the car backed out of the driveway. Alicia’s “Love you” and Braden’s cries were the last sounds…
Dwight thrashed in the bed, fighting to wake himself. “No,” he groaned. “No.”
He knew what was coming, but the nightmare wouldn’t let him escape.
“Mr. Powers? Mr. Powers?”
Dwight turned and glared at the young security guard. No one but no one interrupted him before he gave his opening statement. “Later, Smitty.”
“But, sir, I think you need to read this now.”
The guard’s ashen skin gave Dwight his first ripple of unease. Sanchez’s interest in this private conversation from his spot at the defense table provided the second. Dwight snatched the pink telephone message from Smitty’s hand.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
Braden was crying. He needed his daddy. But Daddy couldn’t help. Daddy didn’t mean for it to happen.
Dwight rolled over in the tangle of covers that had twisted around his legs and buried his head under a pillow.
“Da, da, da, da, da.”
“Braden. No.” He crushed the pillow in his fists the same way he’d crushed that pink slip of paper. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” The baby’s cries echoed in his ears and ping-ponged inside his head. “Stop it.”
“Da, da, da, da, da.”
“Love you.”
Crying. Louder and louder. His tears. Braden’s.
“Da, da, da—”
“Stop it!” Dwight sat up in bed and hurled the pillow across the room. It knocked something off the dresser that crashed into the darkness. The loud sound grated across his raw nerves. “Stop it.”
Kicking off the covers, he swung his feet over the edge of the bed, burying his head in his hands.
His face was wet, his chest and back slick with sweat that gathered in the waistband of his pajama pants. He couldn’t catch his breath or shake the graphic images that burned inside his brain.
