MacKenzie's Lady

by Dallas Schulze

  "Don't expect my employers to be quite as sure as you are, but I'll pass your opinions along."

  But Holly found that it was no longer quite so important what Mac's superiors thought. In her own heart she knew that James was innocent, and the knowledge lifted a huge burden from her. Everything was going to be all right.

  ❧

  Why is it that late night phone calls always herald disaster? Two days later, at three o'clock in the morning, their phone rang. Mac woke with the quickness provided by years of training and snatched up the phone. Holly rolled over in bed, feeling her heart start to thump with fright as she took in the grim expression on his face.

  "All right. I'll be there in half an hour. Thanks for calling."

  The terse words were less than enlightening, and Holly grabbed his forearm, her nails digging in. "What's wrong?"

  "That was Maryann. They just brought Ken into the emergency room."

  "Oh, my God!" She swung her feet off the bed, tossing off her nightgown as she moved. Mac was already stepping into a pair of jeans and grabbing a shirt as Holly struggled to unfold the maternity pants she had pulled out of a drawer.

  "You don't have to go, Holly. Why don't you stay here and try to get some sleep? You've got school tomorrow." He was stuffing his wallet and keys into his pockets as he spoke.

  "They'll just have to get a substitute." She grabbed for a loose sweater and pulled it over her head, tugging it impatiently over the bulge of her stomach before slipping into a pair of soft loafers.

  "Holly." Mac caught her by the arms when she reached for her purse. "It's not going to be pretty."

  The quietness of his tone made her go still. Wide brown eyes searched solemn blue. "What happened?" she whispered through a dry throat.

  "He's been beaten—badly, from what Maryann said."

  "Is he going to die?"

  "I don't know. They were still working on him when she called, and she didn't know all the details yet. It might be better if you stayed here."

  She swallowed hard. "I'm going with you. Ken is my friend and he doesn't have any family. He's going to need all the cheering on he can get. I can handle it."

  Chapter 14

  But handling it was easier said than done. First came all the hours of waiting, endless hours when no one seemed to know what was happening. When Maryann's shift ended at four in the morning, she joined Mac and Holly in the waiting room but she couldn't tell them much more than they already knew. Ken had been beaten, but the extent of his injuries was not yet known.

  The shaken tone of Maryann's voice caught Holly's ear, drawing her out of her concern for Ken. Looking at her friend, Holly was surprised to see that her face had paled until the dusting of freckles stood out like blotches across her cheeks.

  "Are you all right?" She kept her voice low.

  "Of course I'm all right. I'm a nurse, remember? I see lots of cases come through that are worse than this." But her hand was shaking so badly that she almost spilled her coffee when she tried to lift it to her mouth.

  Holly reached out to steady the plastic cup while the other woman took a drink. She glanced across the room at Mac, who sat slumped on a hard chair; only the restless clenching and relaxing of his fist betrayed his inner disturbance.

  Maryann rubbed her fingers tiredly across her forehead. "I wish I smoked. I'd kill for a cigarette right about now."

  "Is there something you're not telling us? Is Ken in worse shape than we thought?" Holly kept her voice low.

  "I don't see how he could be much worse. When they brought him in, I thought he was dead. There was so much blood, and he wasn't moving." Her voice began to shake and she ran her hands up and down her arms as if to ward off a chill, her eyes blank with remembered fright. "I couldn't even find a pulse at first. There was blood everywhere, so much blood."

  "Maryann?" Holly reached out and put her hands tentatively on the other woman's shoulders. "Are you all right?"

  Maryann blinked and her shadowed eyes focused on Holly. Tears welled up and began to trickle down her pallid cheeks. "It was horrible, Holly. I could almost feel him dying under my hands. I've seen people die but never someone I knew. And there was all that blood. I had it on my uniform. It was so awful." The words ended in a choked whisper as Holly pulled her close. With a sob Maryann put her head on her friend's shoulder and began to cry quietly.

  Holly blinked back her own tears and held Maryann, patting her awkwardly on the back and whispering vague reassurances. Her eyes met Mac's and she shook her head in answer to his questioning gaze. There was nothing he could do right now, nothing that any of them could do except wait.

  Fortunately, they didn't have to wait much longer. When the doctor came into the waiting room, Mac stood up immediately, balancing lightly on the balls of his feet as if ready to take a blow. Holly and Maryann were frozen, hardly daring to breathe.

  "Are you people waiting for news of Mr. Richardson?"

  "How is he?" Mac's voice was even huskier than usual, his eyes brilliant blue points of life in his face, his skin pale under the layer of tan.

  "Are you a relative?" The doctor was a short, stocky man in his fifties, and he wasn't intimidated in the least by Mac's looming presence.

  "He doesn't have any relatives. I'm his partner."

  "Well, then, I suppose I can tell you how he's doing. He had some internal bleeding, several cracked or broken ribs, a couple of nasty head wounds, three broken fingers and a broken leg. We've repaired the internal damage, stitched his head back together, splinted the fingers and we're putting a cast on the leg. All in all, he looks like hell, but he should survive."

  "When can I see him?"

  "Not until tomorrow I'm afraid. I'd like to keep him quiet for the next twenty-four hours or so."

  "Doctor, I need to see him as soon as possible. I'm an agent of the federal government and Ken was working on a case. This beating was probably connected to what we were working on. For his own protection, as well as that of other agents, we need to find out what he remembers."

  The doctor tugged thoughtfully on one bushy eyebrow, his eyes shrewd as they looked at Mac. "I'll tell you what, you show me some proof that you are who you say you are and I'll let you see Mr. Richardson as soon as he regains consciousness." He studied the badge Mac held out and then nodded. "All right, I'll see that you're informed as soon as he's conscious."

  "Thank you, doctor. I'm afraid I'm going to have to call in some security. We'll want to station someone outside his room."

  The gray brows lowered. "Just see that no one interferes with hospital routine." He turned on one worn heel and left.

  Though Mac got in to see Ken that afternoon, Holly was not allowed to visit until the next day. And then she wasn't sure she was grateful for the privilege. Nothing had prepared her for his battered appearance. She stopped beside the bed, grateful for the strong support of Mac's hand at her waist.

  Ken opened his eyes—or, rather, he opened one eye. The other one was swollen completely shut. And the one that did open was surrounded by deep blue bruises. There was hardly an inch of visible flesh that wasn't bruised.

  His mouth twisted in a painful smile. "Hello, Lady. Sorry I can't offer you my seat."

  She swallowed hard and forced back the stinging tears that threatened. If her smile was shaky, she hoped he was too doped up to notice. "Hi, yourself. How are you feeling, or shouldn't I ask?"

  "You shouldn't ask. I feel as if I had an argument with a steamroller and lost. They tell me I'll survive, though."

  "Mac went over to your apartment and packed up some of your stuff and cleaned out the bed. We're fixing up the spare room for you. The doctor says you should be able to come home by the end of the week." She tried to keep her doubts out of her voice. Looking at Ken's battered figure, it was hard to believe that he'd be able to be moved in anything less than six months.

  "Thanks, Lady." His good eye dropped to the bulge of .' stomach. "How's the little creature doing?"

  "Fine. The doc
tor says I'm healthy as a horse."

  "I'll be up and around by the time it's due to arrive. Mac will probably panic and somebody's going to have to stay calm enough to rush you to the hospital."

  "I'm counting on it. Listen, I'm not supposed to stay too mg, but I'll be back tomorrow. Maryann is going to keep -- re on you and make sure they treat you well."

  Ken tried to grimace and then groaned as he tugged at the is -iiong his cheek. "If it's left up to her to see that I'm okay. I'm doomed for sure."

  She managed a tremulous smile and turned away. Mac said softly, "I need to talk to Ken for a minute. Are you okay?" She nodded blindly in answer to his question and left before he could pursue it further. His worried eyes followed her until the door shut. When he turned back to Ken, he found the other man had also watched her leave.

  "She's pretty shook up."

  Mac nodded. "I know. She's been really worried about you."

  "Nice to have friends." His eye closed for a moment, revealing his weariness. "What did you need to talk to me about?"

  "I just wanted to go over some of the things you told me yesterday. Daniels asked me to confirm everything. You were pretty groggy."

  "I wasn't that far out. They brought in another shipment right under our noses, Mac. It came in sometime last week."

  "I know. We just got word of it from the other end. What brought this on?" He gestured silently at Ken's bandaged condition.

  Ken started to shake his head and then stopped at the warning twinge of pain. "I don't know for sure. I do know that the goons who jumped me didn't know who I was. From what I could piece together, they were from a rival group that also feels they have a claim to the art. I was seen snooping around one of their warehouses and they were teaching me a lesson. But they didn't know I was a fed."

  "Just as well."

  "Damn right. If they'd known, you'd be talking to my corpse right now. This was meant as a warning. Too bad they didn't just write a letter."

  Mac saw the exhaustion in his partner's face and brought the conversation to a close. "The chief is sending someone to take down your report." Ken groaned, and Mac gave him a sympathetic grin. "Paperwork must be done, come hell or high water, you know. I'll be back tomorrow. Don't drive the nurses too crazy."

  Mac walked down the hall to the waiting room, his brows drawn together. Ken was lucky to be alive. Next time he might not be so lucky. Next time it might not be Ken. He shook the thought away. It didn't do any good to anticipate trouble.

  Holly was sitting on the edge of a chair in the waiting room, her eyes straight ahead, their expression blank. "Holly?" She didn't acknowledge him, and he repeated her name more urgently, crossing the room and dropping to one knee in front of her. "Holly? What's wrong?"

  Her eyes refocused slowly until she was looking at him. "I want to go home."

  "Of course, I'll take you home." He spoke soothingly, as if talking to someone who was mentally disturbed. She didn't say another word on the drive home. She sat silently staring out at the passing streets, her skin pale, her face expressionless.

  Mac came around to her side of the car and helped her out, keeping his arm around her as they entered the house. Her skin felt cold and clammy, and he wondered if he'd done the wrong thing by bringing her home. If she was ill, she needed a doctor.

  She began to shake as he led her into the bedroom. "I'm going to be sick," she muttered tightly.

  And sick she was, violently and thoroughly. Mac held her head until her stomach had emptied itself. He murmured soft reassurances as he stroked her hair back from her hot forehead. Holly leaned against him weakly as she rinsed her mouth and he dabbed at her flushed face with a damp cloth. When it was clear that she wasn't going to be sick again, he lifted her in his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

  "I'm going to call the doctor." Holly grabbed his arm as he reached for the phone.

  "I don't need a doctor. I just need you to hold me."

  "Honey, you've been sick. And your hands feel like ice. There's something wrong."

  In her dazed condition she didn't even notice the endearment that would have meant so much to her at another time.

  "I don't want a doctor. I just want you to hold me."

  "All right. It's all right." He sat on the edge of the bed and drew her into his arms, cradling her while she shivered convulsively.

  "It could have been you. I kept thinking that it could have been you."

  Mac laid his cheek against the top of her head. "Hush. It's all right. Ken is going to be fine and I'm fine. Everything is going to work out. Don't cry, baby."

  He rocked her gently, holding her until the shivering and the soft sobbing ebbed to an occasional shaken breath. He eased her back down onto the pillows. If Holly could have seen his face at that moment, all her doubts would have been put to rest.

  But her lashes formed dark crescents against her cheeks and she didn't stir while he loosened her clothing and covered her with a light blanket. He stood beside the bed for a long time, deep lines of tension bracketing his mouth.

  It was a source of constant amazement to Holly how quickly things return to normal after a crisis. A week after Ken's beating, she saw the last of her small students off for the weekend and stood looking around the empty classroom. One hand rubbed absently at the slight ache in her lower back.

  Only one more week, she thought as she straightened up the room. One more week and then Christmas break and then the baby. She patted her stomach. She was going to miss teaching, but having the baby was going to more than make up for any pangs of regret. Besides, nobody had said that she was giving up teaching forever. Mac had made it clear that it was her choice and he'd support whatever she decided to do.

  Mac. Her mouth curved in a tender smile. There had been something different about him this past week—an extra touch of caring, a warmth that hadn't been there before. He was finally putting the past behind him. He might not be ready to say the words yet, but he loved her.

  Ken was recovering nicely. He had settled into the spare room, and soon it felt as if he'd always been there. He still looked as if he'd been hit by a train, but Maryann assured her that the bruises and scars would fade in time. Holly's smile deepened. Maryann was spending quite a bit of time visiting Ken. She said it was just professional concern, but Holly knew for a fact that Ken had been released when he was because Maryann had told the doctor that she would keep an eye on him. Holly had a suspicion that her interest was more than professional.

  As she stepped out of the building, she squinted to see through the pouring rain. They might not have a white Christmas but it sure looked as if it might be a wet one. Of course, there were still a few weeks left until the holiday, and in Southern California a few weeks could mean the difference between a downpour and a heat wave.

  Mac's sedan pulled up to the low steps and Mac was beside her before she had gone more than three steps. His arm captured her waist, supporting her protectively as he saw her into the car. She shook her head in loving exasperation as she watched him circle around the hood.

  "You know, I'm pregnant, not dying. You don't have to help me down stairs. You don't even have to pick me up at Aork. My stomach still fits behind the wheel."

  "I worry about your driving in this kind of weather," he told her calmly, "and it doesn't do any harm to help you down stairs, does it?"

  "I suppose not, but you're spoiling the image of the modern woman who can take on anything during pregnancy."

  "I know you can take on anything. I just don't see any reason why you should have to when I'm there to help." He came to a halt at a red light and dazzled her with a smile, his teeth flashing white beneath the dark mustache. "Actually, I feel guilty. You have to do all the work, and I get to enjoy the rewards."

  "I'll tell you what, just so it won't make you feel bad, I'll let you change all the diapers after he's here."

  Mac winced, edging the car through a flooded intersection. "I was afraid you'd say something like that."


  "Always trying to be fair."

  "Have you heard from James?" The question was so far away from what they had been discussing that it took Holly a minute to sort the words out.

  "I told you that I'd let you know if I heard from him." Her voice was tight, revealing her hurt.

  Mac grimaced. "I didn't mean it to sound like that. James has disappeared. I don't mean disappeared in an ominous way," he reassured her quickly. "He's just dropped out of sight. We've had people watching him, and two days ago he ditched his tail and hasn't been seen since. And it was pretty clear that he knew exactly what he was doing," he finished grimly.

  "Do you think he's in trouble? He's not helping anybody steal art treasures, Mac. I know he isn't."

  "You've almost managed to convince me. Whatever he was up to, he obviously didn't want to be tailed. It could be something as simple as a rendezvous with a woman. Maybe he wanted some privacy. I figured you would want to know what was happening."

  "Thank you." She twisted her fingers restlessly. Oh, Jamey, what are you up to? What have you gotten involved with? she thought, shaking her head. James knew how to take care of himself. She'd have to trust in that. There was nothing else she could do.

  ❧

  The few weeks left before Christmas seemed to whirl by so quickly that Holly had the feeling she should grab hold of them and try to slow them down. That wasn't possible, so she threw herself into the festive spirit with enthusiasm. Her parents weren't going to be able to make it for the holidays. They were saving their next visit until after the baby was born. That left just Mac and Holly and Maryann and Ken, which suited Holly just fine. The four of them were beginning to seem like a family.

  She was baking cookies one afternoon when Ken appeared in the kitchen. He clumped in on his crutches and leaned against the breakfast bar, watching her as she lifted a tray of buttery pressed cookies from the oven and slid another tray in.

  "You realize, of course, that there's no way you're ever going to find enough people to eat all these cookies you've been baking." Holly was putting the oven-fresh cookies out on racks and he reached over to snitch one, juggling it back and forth between his palms until it cooled enough to pop in his mouth.