Switchback

by Catherine Anderson

“No—not—oh, hell, I don’t know.” He sighed. “I know now that I was wrong. But there’s still this—”

  “Doubt?” she supplied shrilly.

  “Not doubt, exactly, just a lingering...distaste.” He stared at the rug, scraping a bare spot in the nap with his toe. “I’ve spent fourteen years of my life hating the kind of woman you are. Bettina Rawlins destroyed my brother. He had such big dreams before meeting her. And by the time she was done with him, he was sure he wasn’t good enough to be a shoe-shine boy. I had to watch his life disintegrate. All because of a no good, self-centered little piece of fluff who led him on. It’s not easy to do an about-face after that. Give me some time.”

  “Exactly what kind of woman do you think I am?”

  He looked distinctly uncomfortable and still avoided eye contact with her. “I always believed you were spoiled and empty-headed and selfish, like Bettina.” The electrical silence that punctuated that admission spurred him to add, “You did ask for the truth. I’m not saying that’s what you are, only that I perceived you that way.”

  Mallory fought to maintain her self-control. She had been under a lot of pressure these past few days. She knew her nerves were probably shot, and Mac’s probably were, as well. If they lost their tempers... She ground her teeth. Spoiled, empty-headed and selfish, was she? With biting sarcasm, she said, “What’s that saying Marines have about women? If she’s ugly, put a flag over her head and do it for the glory? You’ve got your own version for shallow, spoiled rich women. Turn off the lights and do it for the heck of it!”

  His eyes flew to hers, filled with shock. “Mallory!”

  The censure in his tone galled her. “Don’t Mallory me. How can you make love to me and then, only a few hours later, use the word distaste when you’re referring to me?”

  He stared at her, saying nothing.

  “What was it? I was convenient? The pillow wasn’t big enough? You wanted revenge? What?”

  “I don’t think that deserves an answer.”

  All the stress Mallory had been under these past few days began to roil within her and surged up her throat in a wave of irrational rage. “Do you remember when you accused me of using you? I think maybe it was the other way around.” Even as she spoke, her throat tightened around the words. “What was it, your way of avenging Randy? Daddy’s little rich girl finally gets her just deserts?”

  He said nothing to defend himself, which only fueled her anger.

  “Randy was twenty-three, old enough to make his own decisions. If he fell for Bettina’s lines, how can you possibly hold me accountable for it? Do you really think Darren and I didn’t try to warn him? Blame me, by all means, if it makes you feel better. Blame everyone in Bellevue. I can understand your resenting me, truly I can. Especially when you didn’t know me. But I think it’s gone beyond resentment when you use someone who cares for you for some sick sort of revenge.”

  Mac leaned forward. He knew he wasn’t himself right now and that he should keep his mouth shut. His nerves were raw. He was exhausted. It was no time to engage in this kind of fight. Tongues could draw blood, and when he got mad, his could be razor sharp. He didn’t want to hurt Mallory. He had hurt her enough already. But after everything he had tried to do, all the risks he had taken, how could she accuse him of using her? “Don’t sling garbage unless you want it slung back. I didn’t use you, lady. You were panting for it, begging for it. I turned you down once. What do you think I’m made of, rock? Love me, Mac. Isn’t that what you said? Not to mention the fact that you were crawling all over me. Used you? Don’t make me laugh. As for Randy, let’s leave him out of this, shall we? Without me, where will you and Em be? Up the creek, that’s where.”

  Mallory’s legs were shaking so badly that she thought she might fall. She looked at him beseechingly, unwilling to believe he really meant what he’d just said.

  Mac cradled his head in his hands. After a long while, he said, “I didn’t mean that. I couldn’t walk out on you and Em.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself. “I know that,” she said softly. “Do you think I would sleep with a man I thought was heartless?”

  He shot her a glare. “You must think I’m pretty heartless if you think last night was my way of getting back at you.”

  “What was it then? If you still blame me, you can’t like me, let alone have any deeper feelings. What is sex without feeling? What did last night mean to you? Anything?”

  That did it. Mac shot up off the bed. “You tell me! You’re so good at analysis. I suppose you studied it in school.”

  “Another count against me, hmm? A college education. I think you’re so confused, you don’t know what you think. Guilt has a way of doing that to you.”

  “And what would you know about guilt? Give me a break.”

  “I know plenty. I quit nursing, didn’t I?”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “It means—” Her voice broke. “It means I thought it was partly my fault Darren died.”

  He froze midstride.

  “Don’t look at me like that. Do you think you’re the only person who lost someone and blamed himself? I not only wasn’t there when he needed me, but I couldn’t help him when I finally got there. I couldn’t stop the bleeding. And I was a trained nurse.”

  “He was pumped full of anticoagulant.”

  “I didn’t know that!” She turned away from him. “My first thought was to slow the bleeding before I called an ambulance. I wasted precious time. I thought I knew what to do, that I could take the preliminary steps to help save him. And he died.”

  Mac touched her shoulder, and she jerked away.

  “He bled to death in my arms. After that, I thought of all the things I should have done. Sound familiar? I started to lose confidence in my abilities. I felt panicky when I was left alone with an injured patient. Finally one afternoon after a man was brought into the clinic after a car wreck, I quit. Threw my hat and pin into the trash and just walked out. I didn’t want another life on my conscience.” She passed a hand over her eyes. “I was afraid. Afraid that I wasn’t good enough. And so are you.”

  Mac chose to ignore that comment. “So you quit doing what you loved. I saw you in action with Mark, remember. You’re a natural, an excellent nurse.”

  “I thought I was once.” She dashed tears from her cheeks. “Who knows. Maybe now, I can try again.”

  “Maybe?”

  “You think I should do an about-face more easily than you did?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Mallory, you don’t fight fair.”

  “And you don’t judge fairly. I’d say that makes us even.”

  “I never meant to judge you. And that crack about distaste, I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. It’s just that—”

  “Yes?”

  “The money gets in my way.”

  “It didn’t last night.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Last night, the last thing on my mind was how much money you had. You were terrified for your daughter. You needed me.”

  Her daughter. A wave of guilt washed over Mallory. Nothing should matter to her right now but Emily. Confused by the myriad emotions washing over her, she couldn’t make sense of anything. She only knew that Mac had insinuated himself into her world and become as important to her as the air she breathed. That feeling in no way distracted her from her concerns about Emily. Somehow, Mac wasn’t peripheral to her love for her daughter anymore but, inexplicably, a part of it. “I can get rid of the money, you know. Or only use it for helping people.”

  The plea in her eyes was unmistakable. Mac longed to take her in his arms, but to do so would have been dishonest. If he and Mallory were to have a future together, and his mind emphasized the if, then they’d have to find equal ground to build it on. He couldn’t let her throw her money away because of him, but he couldn’t accept the fact that she had it. It seemed an insurmountable obstacle, especially now, when both of them were so consumed with finding her daughter. There wasn’t time to wor
ry about their relationship right now, to sort it out, to make sense of it. And until there was time, it was better to say nothing.

  “I’m already using it to help people,” she told him, her gaze still clinging to his. “Remember the office Darren and Randy planned to open, the legal-aid center for the poor? Darren opened it after he passed the bar. I’ve funded it since his death so it wouldn’t close down. Christiani and Watts, after Darren and Randy. That’s where I told Danno he could get on-the-job training.”

  Mac could only stare at her for what seemed endless minutes. “Darren opened a firm and named it after my brother? Why didn’t Keith ever tell me?”

  Mac averted his face. He knew why Keith had never told him. Keith had wanted him to work his way through the bitterness on his own. To find his own truth, however long it took, however painful the healing might be. In the end, it had taken the kidnapping of a child to get through to him; and, of course, getting to know Mallory. Seeing how desperately she loved her daughter. Sharing in her pain. Tasting her panic.

  If only things were as simple as they looked on the surface. Was Mallory right? Was he afraid he wasn’t good enough? Yes. Not good enough for her and not good enough to be a parent to her child. Until he ironed out his feelings, how could he and Mallory continue in a relationship? Every time he looked at her, he saw something to remind him of how inadequate he was and remembered Randy’s heartbreak.

  “What do you say we let things ride until this is over? We’re both exhausted. We have a lot of planning to do. What’s between us will still be there later.”

  “Unfortunately.” Mallory swallowed back any further retort. He was right about putting everything on hold. They had Em to think of. Their relationship, whatever remained of it, could be examined later.

  They left it at that, but the unspoken was still there between them. Mac sat back down on the bed and began studying the documents again. “You name it, Carmichael has a finger in it. Illegal betting, stolen merchandise, collecting protection money. Murder. Pimping.”

  “What should we do about the two men still after us?”

  “See they get their comeuppance. What else?” A lazy smile curved his mouth. “Sit down, Mallory. What do you think of this plan?”

  Mallory lowered herself into the chair, acutely aware that he was still avoiding eye contact with her. The tension between them left her feeling shattered. She had grown so dependent upon his strength. Now she felt as though he had withdrawn his support. Just when she needed him the most—when the situation with Em was finally reaching a critical point.

  “I’m going to take the package to my office and put it in my combination safe. Then we’ll slip back into your house in the morning to wait for Carmichael’s call, just as we planned. I’ll arrange a meeting with him, to exchange the package for Emily, at the Seattle City Center, by that big round fountain.”

  She knew the place. “How can you do that if the package is in your safe?”

  “Just listen. I’ll be the go-between and carry the package to Carmichael. While Em walks to you around one side of the fountain, I’ll walk to him around the other. When I reach him, I’ll tell him I’m carrying a dummy package, that only I know where the real package is. I’ll take Em’s place as hostage. You run with Em into the crowd. Carmichael won’t dare shoot in the crowd, and he won’t want to kill me until he gets that package, right? I’ll tell him it might fall into the wrong hands if something should happen to me. That will ensure that you and Em can get out of there safely. I’ll make arrangements with Shelby to get you both out of town before I agree to take Carmichael to the package, and Shelby will keep you safe until everything is over.”

  “No!” Mallory shot up from her chair. “You’ll end up dead. No way, Mac.”

  “I already have an escape plan. And once I’m away from Carmichael, I’ll go to my office, get the evidence and take it to the authorities. Happy ending.”

  “It’s too risky. What if you can’t escape?”

  “I’ve been in tighter spots. I’ll get away. And if I can’t find a way out, I can always take him to the safe and give him the package, Mallory. That would mean you and I would have to take Em and go into hiding, but it would be better than dying. Trust me, I don’t have a death wish.” At last he looked deeply into her eyes. “Mallory, use your head. You have Em’s safety to think of. Carmichael will be more willing to go along if I’m the hostage. I’m a professional. I’m more of a threat to him than you are. He’ll figure you’ll do as you’re told, no questions. I might play the hero, make trouble.”

  “She’s my daughter.” Mallory doubled her hands into fists. She knew he couldn’t really have an escape plan. There were too many variables. “I’ll be the go-between.”

  “No,” Mac replied stubbornly. “Em needs you. So, we either do it my way, or we don’t do it at all.”

  She knew arguing with him wouldn’t do any good. His pride would never let him stand aside while she went to Carmichael. As noble a gesture as it was, there was no way she could just let him do it. There had to be something she could do to help him get away once Em was safe.

  Mac stood and reached for his jacket where it was draped over the back of the chair. After slipping it on, he began gathering the papers on the bed.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To put this in my safe.”

  “Not without me, you aren’t.”

  He groaned. “Mallory, I’d like to keep you out of this for now. The less you know, the safer you are.”

  “You can’t keep me out of it. I’m already in up to my neck. Em’s my daughter, not yours.”

  “Do you realize how dangerous this could be?” he asked. “Just getting to my office will be a feat in itself. We’re not only going to have to make certain we’re not tailed, but after we get there, we have to be sure no one’s staking out the building.”

  “Then I’ll come in handy, won’t I? You’ll be needing a second pair of eyes. As for anyone who might be watching the building? If we see someone we’ll just call the police and report a nutcase in the building who’s wearing nothing but a raincoat who’s hiding and leaping out at women. Not even Lucetti’s goons would be stupid enough to make a move on us when the place is crawling with cops.”

  Mac couldn’t keep from grinning. “You have a devious streak, don’t you?”

  “You’re just now realizing that? Either you’re slow, Mac, or I haven’t been performing up to my usual standards since we’ve been hanging around together.”

  * * *

  A HALF HOUR LATER, Mac was sitting at his desk, addressing a large manila envelope to Scotty Herman. Inside were copies of the ledgers, which Mallory had helped make, and all of Miles’s correspondence to Keith, which was self-explanatory. Mac knew he could count on Scotty to get the evidence into the right hands. And with mail time delaying things, Scotty wouldn’t receive it until well after Em and Mallory were safely away. There was no risk this way of cops on the take reporting back to Carmichael and endangering either of them.

  Mac tossed his pen on his desk and rose from his chair. He had sent Mallory up the hall to a pop machine so he could fill out the address on the envelope while she was out of the room. She’d be back soon. Picking up the package, he hurried out into the hall and dropped the envelope into the mail drop. Because Mallory had insisted on coming, Mac had had no choice but to let her know he had made copies, but he didn’t dare tell her who he was sending them to. Number one, she’d be upset, fearing the wrong people in the precinct would get hold of them. And he also had to think of Scotty’s safety. If something went wrong and Mallory didn’t escape with Em, Carmichael was probably an expert at making people talk. As long as Mallory didn’t know who would receive the copies, Scotty wouldn’t be endangered.

  Returning to the office, Mac gave the room a long, slow study, committing it to memory. This might be the last time he ever stood in here. He had a lot of good memories. His gaze drifted to the clutter on top of his desk. If he ha
d time, he would clean it up. Less mess for someone else to sort through. A grin tilted his mouth. Might as well go out like he had lived. Why disappoint everybody?

  He sighed and glanced at the telephone. It reminded him he still had to get to a pay phone and call Shelby. He was the one person Mac trusted enough to take care of Em and Mallory.

  * * *

  “ANY PROBLEMS?” Mallory stepped into the room just as Mac glanced away from the phone. She popped the seal on a can of Coke and set it on the desk for him.

  Mac avoided looking at her. He had never been good at deceptions. “None. One package is in the mail. The other is in the safe. All I have left to do is make arrangements with Shelby.”

  “Who did you send the copies to?”

  Mac smiled ruefully. Count on Mallory to ask the one question he had hoped she wouldn’t. “I can’t tell you that.”

  He expected an argument, but to his surprise, Mallory nodded. “Good precaution. What I don’t know, I can’t repeat.” Catching the surprise in his expression, she added, “I want to help, Mac. And I want to know what’s going on. But not when it serves no good purpose or jeopardizes someone’s safety. What sort of arrangements are you making with Shelby?”

  He handed her a piece of paper. “That’s his address. I’ll make sure he’ll be there waiting for you and Em tomorrow. I don’t want him anywhere near the center, just in case Carmichael or his goons spotted him. When you arrive at Shelby’s, he’ll take you out of Seattle to that mountain cabin I told you about. After you’re both safe, he’ll call my answering machine at the office and leave the number of a phone booth near the hideout so I’ll be able to contact him later. Carmichael will have to let me call if I tell him that’s the only way he’ll get the package. I can call my answering machine and get the number after the twenty-four hours are up. That way I’ll know you’re safe before I make my break. Once I’m free I’ll call Shelby. We’ll set a time for him to be waiting at his end.”

  Mallory felt slightly sick. Mac’s plan was nearly in motion, and it looked as if it could work. But what if it backfired?