by Beverly Bird
It was amazing, she thought, how you could ache for something your whole life and not even know you’d missed it until you had it. She rolled over at 8:30 the following morning and found her cheek resting against Danny’s chest. Somewhere along the line, they’d pulled out the lumpy sofa bed. She hadn’t found it to be half as uncomfortable as it had been two years ago.
“Ummm,” she said, closing her eyes again.
“I heard that,” he said groggily. “That was a sound of contentment.”
“Dream on.”
“Sure. All my dreams were of you.”
Things inside her moved again. She smiled against his skin. “Do you have any coffee around here?”
“Molly, we only went to sleep three hours ago. You’re not getting up. I won’t let you.”
“Let me?”
“Okay, maybe that was a bad choice of words. But I will seriously dissuade you.”
“Be my guest,” she whispered, and leaned up to find his mouth again.
How had she lived without this all her life? He rolled over to cover her again, then he filled her. Molly thought no more at all, except to know that, for the first time in her life, she felt whole.
The conversation took place in short, tense tones as the man looked up at the apartment windows over the rec center. The curtains were open but he couldn’t see anything. They weren’t moving around in there. He figured he knew what they were doing.
“Her car’s still here,” he reported into his cell phone.
“She spent the night there, then. Okay, I’ll pass it on.”
“So what do you want me to do now?”
“Stay on her. Hit her at the first opportunity. Make very sure she doesn’t go back to personnel first. I don’t trust that woman who works in there.”
“Evie Castelano?”
“She’s too friendly with our resident troublemaker.”
“I would have had her there last night if Gates hadn’t shown up when he did. Thirty more seconds and she wouldn’t be a problem anymore.”
“Well, he did show up. He won’t keep doing it, though. He’s the easiest to get rid of. All we have to do is shift him back into jail. In the meantime, concentrate on Molly French. You’ve got to get to her. We can’t risk her finding a sympathetic ear before we kill her.”
“You think Bobby Jansen told her anything?”
“It doesn’t matter. They’re both dead. You still have someone inside the hospital who can finish the kid off, right?”
“Right.”
“Good. And Gates won’t get out of jail alive this time, either. If we can get the three of them, we can contain this.”
They disconnected. Because he was frustrated, the first man slashed the Camaro’s rear tires before he crossed the street to wait for her behind an abandoned, boarded-up cottage.
Molly didn’t realize her back tires were flat until she tried to drive away from the rec center an hour later. She heard the rims grind and felt the irregular, protesting thump in the steering wheel. “Oh, damn it,” she muttered, pulling over again. “Come on, you guys, grow up.”
She got out of the Camaro and glared at the tires. She could afford new ones—as long as they kept focusing on such juvenile stunts and left her life alone.
“Hey, what happened?”
Molly looked up quickly at the sound of Anita’s voice. “Hey, there. It’s nothing. Someone’s just playing games with me.”
“You think it’s Coach?” The girl grinned wickedly.
“No, we’re on much better terms these days.” Molly smiled, wondering if the reflex looked as goofy and smitten as it felt.
“No kidding. Real good terms?”
Molly scowled. “Pretty good. Why?”
“I just got a bet, is all.”
“What kind of bet?”
“That you guys end up doing the mattress tango before too long.”
“Anita!”
The girl wagged a finger at her. “Don’t forget the condoms.”
Molly’s heart jumped over a beat. So much for heeding her own advice. She’d never even thought about that last night. Then again, she’d stayed on the Pill for years now, just on general principle, in case Mr. Right decided to come sauntering along. And she knew where Danny had been these last six years and what he had been doing all that time.
Intent on redeeming herself, Molly asked the standard question. “How come you’re not in school?”
“Trouble with my dad this morning. He was too drunk to drive me. I was going to the center to use the phone and call for a cab. When I saw you, I thought maybe I could get a ride, but…” Anita trailed off and shrugged at the slashed tires. “Hey, what are you doing here so early anyway?”
“Never mind,” Molly said quickly. “Come on, let’s go to the office so you can call for a ride.”
Danny stuck his head in the office right after Anita left and just as Molly was finishing up a phone call to the garage she used. “What’s wrong?” he said harshly. “Why are you still here? Is everything all right?”
How long had it been, Molly wondered, since anyone had been aware of her every move? There had never been anyone like that before in her life, she realized. Her mother had always been too busy, too tired, and Mickey had had other concerns.
Molly told him about her car.
“You’re pretty calm about it,” he observed.
“Well, it’s just stupid. I called the garage. They’ll send someone out to fix it.”
“I would have fixed it.” His jaw set.
“Is this a macho sort of thing?” she asked. “Shouldn’t you be pounding your fists against your chest?”
“Why spend money on a garage when you’ve got me and my hulking muscles?”
Molly laughed. “I have two flats, but only one spare. The garage is bringing two new tires.” Then her eyes narrowed. He was dressed all in drab browns and khakis. “What are you up to?”
Danny looked down at himself. “I’m going to spend the day blending into the background.”
“And this clothing is…a proven approach?”
“It is.”
She knew better than to ask for details or where he had learned the technique. “Okay. You look like hell, though.”
“You weren’t saying that an hour ago.” He came into the office to lean his hands on the desktop and kiss her. No, Molly thought, she had never been happy before. She had never felt like this before in her life.
“Come back upstairs,” he said against her mouth.
“Later. After you tell me what Beau Maguire does with his daytime hours.”
“You’re a tough woman.” Danny straightened and moved away from the desk, then he stopped at the door. “Hey, Officer.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are we back to that cop business again?”
“I’m just a little worked up about the things that happen to you lately while you’re in uniform. In case we don’t catch up between now and then…don’t die on me tonight.”
Molly softened. “I’m not going in to work tonight. I have sixteen sick days stockpiled. I’m not giving anyone else a chance to take a shot at me.”
Danny hadn’t realized he wasn’t breathing until the air came back to his lungs. “Good. I approve.”
“And I just live for your approval,” she said dryly.
“If that doesn’t motivate you, I’ll bribe you.”
She loved him, she thought. She loved him so much. “That has some possibilities. With what?”
“I’ll come up with something good while I’m watching Maguire. If you’re not going in to work, when do you think you’ll be back here?”
“Probably around two o’clock, my usual time.”
“Then I’ll be back by then, too.”
“Danny, you don’t have to baby-sit me. You don’t need to be my bodyguard.” She paused. “As soon as my car is up and running, I’m going over to the police station and I’ll pick up my vest while I’m there. I’m appropriately spooked.”
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br /> His face cleared. His heart steadied a bit. “I approve of that, too. I’ll catch up with you later.”
Molly watched him go and gave a sigh that sounded entirely too much like Cinderella for her comfort. Then she picked up the phone again. If she was stuck here until the garage arrived with new tires, she figured she might as well make use of the time. She called Ralph Bunderling.
“Molly! Molly!” He practically gasped at her greeting. “I’ve been so worried about you!”
Had he heard about the IAD thing, she wondered, or what had happened last night? Either way, her response was the same. “I’m fine, Ralph. Really.”
“I don’t believe a word they’re saying. I just want you to know that. You would never…never…”
Ah, she thought, it was the IAD business. Molly couldn’t help herself. The devil took her tongue again—and she was in such a good mood. “Roll around on a gym floor with an ex-con? Of course I would.”
There was a long silence. She thought she heard him gulp. “You would?”
“Oh, sure. With the right provocation. I have unplumbed depths, Ralph. Listen, I need your help with something.”
“Anything.” He breathed it.
“Why is the Probation Department lifting $5,500 a month from Ben Stone’s paychecks?”
“How do you know about that?” He sounded startled. “No one knows about that—I mean, no one outside of this department.”
“I have my resources. So what’s the story?”
“Oh, well, it’s nothing, really. It’s just alimony and child support.”
“Probation handles that sort of thing? What rock have I been living under?”
“We have a whole child-support unit here, Molly. They go after deadbeat dads and attach wages. Chief Stone got walloped by Judge Sanderling a few years ago. It’s a little extreme, how much he’s paying.” Ralph’s voice dropped a notch. “But, you know, he arrested Sanderling’s daughter for prostitution quite some time ago. The charges didn’t stick, but word has it that the judge has never forgotten.”
“Ah,” Molly said. Now she got it. His Honor had a personal vendetta going, and Stone was paying through the teeth for it. But it had nothing to do with the Lion’s Den, she thought. “Thank you for your help, Ralph. I appreciate it.”
“Of course. Do you think we could see each other again, maybe this weekend?”
“Thanks so much for the thought, but I’m…” She’d started to give her usual line about being too busy, then she grinned around at the empty office. “Actually, I’m seeing someone now.”
“Ah, well,” Ralph said, disappointed. “If it doesn’t work out, please call me.”
“I hope with all my heart that it works out.” Molly hung up the phone, then she sat a little longer at the desk, still smiling. It wasn’t until the screen door banged that she realized what an idiot she was—and Danny, too, for that matter. Neither of them had thought to lock the outside door when he’d left.
Molly came to her feet fast, spinning toward the safe in Ron’s office where she’d put her service revolver for safekeeping the night before. She hadn’t quite reached it when a male voice sounded behind her.
“Ms. French? Your car’s ready now.”
Shaking a little, Molly let out her breath and turned. She recognized the guy from the garage. Her car was old enough that she had it in there with some frequency. “Thanks,” she said a little shakily. Determined not to be stupid again, she went back to the safe. “Could you do just one more thing for me? Wait two seconds and walk with me to my car?”
Danny stopped by the hospital before he put himself on the trail of Beau Maguire. Bobby had graduated to an upstairs room. He found Caitlyn Matthews with him.
“Hi,” he said. “Picking up on someone else’s shift again?”
“No,” she said quietly. “This time he’s officially mine.”
Danny found that he was relieved. “How’s he doing?”
“The pain makes me hopeful.”
Danny was startled. “Pardon me?”
“I think he’s still aware of pain. His coma isn’t so deep that he’s not cognizant of it. That’s a good thing, Mr.…”
“Gates.”
“I’m sorry. Yesterday was a very long day. It was a blur. Did your lady friend manage to do anything with the information I gave her?”
His lady friend. Danny thought about that a minute and he realized that he didn’t like the term. “Actually, she’s my…” He trailed off, stymied.
Caitlyn blinked at him. “Your what?”
Lover? Friend? Civil Enemy? Danny mentally ran through the list again. “She’s everything.”
Caitlyn laughed. “I like that. But did she have any success with my information?”
“Not yet. But she will. We will.”
“Good.” She changed the subject. “Do you know any of this boy’s family?”
“Uh…no. Not really. But I can find out. Why?”
“No one but you and your…your everything person…have been by to see him.”
Danny felt frustration pump into his blood again. “I’m not surprised. What’s your point?”
“Well, there’s a theory that familiar voices might help him out of this. That he can hear them and recognize them despite the coma. It’s just a theory, mind you, but we’ve had some success with it in the past.”
“You want me to bring his family by to talk to him?”
“Could you?”
Danny nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you, Mr. Gates. You’re a good man.”
He thought about that, too. “I could have been.”
Then he left the hospital to go find Beau Maguire.
Chapter 11
“You’re doing what?”
The expression on Chief Stone’s face was almost worth taking a bullet for, Molly thought an hour later. She’d spent most of those sixty minutes in his anteroom, waiting for him to see her. “I’m resigning from the task force,” she repeated.
“You badgered me to death to get on there.”
“And now I’m badgering you to take me off.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Molly, this is not rational behavior. Can I ask what prompted this change of heart?”
She shrugged. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a troublemaker.”
His expression turned skeptical, she thought.
“Chief, those guys don’t want me there. I’m just making everyone miserable and by virtue of that, I’m sure I’m disrupting the process.”
“Well, it’s your call.”
“Thank you.” She stood, then she couldn’t hold her tongue any longer. “Plus, I’m kind of attached to my life, if you get my meaning.”
His expression turned sincerely aghast. “You can’t possibly think that your trouble last night has anything to do with the task force. In all likelihood, that was Mrs. Anilworthy’s husband. In fact, Larry Higgins has him in for questioning right now.”
Larry Higgins. The name rang a bell, Molly thought. She was pretty sure he worked days. Why would his name mean anything to her?
Because, she remembered suddenly, he had been Beau Maguire’s partner six years ago. He’d been riding with him when Beau had found the money in Danny’s condominium. And now he was interviewing her supposed shooter.
It was just too convenient. “Oh, dandy,” she muttered aloud. “I’d love to be a mouse in that corner.”
“I beg your pardon?” Chief Stone asked, frowning.
“I thought Joe Gannon was supposed to be handling my incident last night,” she said without responding.
“It’s his day off, Molly. There was no sense in bringing him for overtime on something another detective can easily handle.”
He made it sound like someone had made a face at her rather than shoot a bullet at her, Molly thought. And yesterday had been Joe’s day off. Something was up here. But then, nothing surprised her anymore. “You may be right. Maybe Mr. Anilworthy just took a sudde
n dislike to black-and-white cars. My point is, ever since I became part of that task force, my life has been a living hell. I’m tired of it. I’m quitting.”
“I can’t talk you out of this?”
Molly blinked, startled. “Why would you want to? You fought my assignment tooth-and-nail in the first place.”
Stone sighed. “Molly, I have many, many other things to do with my time besides answer your memos. When I got around to it, you were assigned.”
She thought about that and nodded. She left his office, wondering how long it would be before she got word that IAD was backing off on the charge against her.
Five minutes after Molly left Chief Stone’s office, cell phones began humming.
“I’m trying,” complained the man who had tailed Molly from the rec center to the police station. “As soon as she got out of her car this morning, some teenager showed up and they went back to the center together. After she left, Gates was with her. Then the guy came to fix her car. She was never alone.”
“Why did he have to fix the car?”
The man decided to gloss over that one. “Guess it wouldn’t start. I haven’t had a single opportunity, man. You don’t want me gunning her down as she drives Main Street.”
“My friend, you couldn’t even gun her down when she was parked.”
The man used his sleeve to wipe sweat off his brow. “I’ll get her this time.”
“See that you do. She should be leaving the premises shortly. Get her alone and hold her this time. She’s had all night now to snoop around since you missed her—there’s no telling who she may have talked to in the meantime. You’ll be informed of where to take her and someone will meet you there. We’ll find out what she knows, then we’ll put an end to her.”
“But if she backed off the task force—”
“She’s not backing off, you idiot. She’s playing with us. Our orders are to snuff out this nightmare. That means eliminating all three of them—her and Gates and the kid—and anyone else we find out she’s spoken to.”
Beau Maguire was harder to pick up than Danny had anticipated. The modest, blue-shuttered house at 126 East Tamara Lane was deserted when he got there. No wife, no kiddies, no cop, he thought. Danny wasn’t even able to ID what kind of car the guy drove. There was no vehicle in the driveway.
