A Time to Protect (19 page)

The house sat almost silent once the kids were tucked in. Finished with her lengthy grocery list, Chloe folded a last load of towels and decided to retire herself. Just before she did, she walked to the study to say good-night to Brendan, who sat hunched over his laptop, his phone clamped against his ear.

“It doesn’t make sense.” He scrolled through the information. “More than a year after we got the Diablo syndicate out of town, some new guy shows up and decides to resume business as usual? Why here, Peter? More importantly, why can’t we find him—or someone who can identify him? Nobody seems to have any leads on the boss. Why would he want the mayor shot unless this all has something to do with revenge?” He listened, then sighed. “I’m trying. But none of it makes any sense unless this
El Jefe
knew Escalante, either worked for him or was somehow tied into the organization. We need something to go on. Please, think about it.”

On the floor by his feet sat today’s newspaper. The headline read “Deputy Mayor Frost cites new priorities.” Big red question marks surrounded the caption. Chloe turned away, slipped upstairs to puzzle it out and came up with nothing. No matter which way she looked at it, there was one thing she couldn’t write off.

Brendan Montgomery had become far more than an impersonal guard, or even a friend. She woke up each morning eager to hear his voice, to watch his lazy smile tip that charming mouth up at the corners. She relished his good humor and solid presence. And always she was amazed by his quiet confidence that whatever happened, God would be there.

Until tonight at Fiona’s, she’d never believed God even heard her. But then she’d prayed and—it still amazed her. She picked up the list of verses Katherine had given her, read through them again and waited for each word to sink in. The last one had echoed through her mind for days now, especially after she’d read it again in the book Brendan had lent her.

“I will instruct you and teach you in the way which you should go. I will counsel you with My eye upon you.”

God was willing to do that for her? It hardly made sense that the One to whom she’d paid so little attention for so many years was interested in her so much. But there was no disputing those words. She read them over again, switched off the light and lay in bed, waiting to feel that tiny rush of peace.

“I can trust You, can’t I?” she whispered.

The only answer was the ring of those words she’d heard so many times before. “We walk by faith, not by sight.”

“You have made no progress.”

It was not a question. Harry Redding swallowed hard, forced upon himself that rigid calm that had always been his trademark. Today, in front of the man he’d been told to call The Chief, it failed him.

“She’s constantly guarded. There is no opportunity. There is a perimeter around the block. Breaking it means alerting their security. Besides, everyone is jittery ever since that last kid died of an overdose.” Was shooting someone worse than killing them with cocaine?

The narrowed black eyes glittered like black steel. “I do not wait forever. If you cannot do the job, you will be replaced.”

“It will be done. But not in a rush that exposes me.” He paused. “The mayor has not regained consciousness, so what does it matter?”

“It matters!” The hiss of his words held the promise of death for those who chose to ignore them. “I will have my revenge. They will pay for what they have done. Now go! Do what I have commanded. Do not come back until it is finished. You have until New Year’s Eve.”

Two weeks? He opened his mouth to protest, saw the flash of steel in the other man’s hand and left without further comment. One did not argue with The Chief…and live.

“I’m so glad we’re getting out of that house at last.” Brendan checked the mirror for the tenth time, just to make sure their escort was in place.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe gasped, obviously wounded by his words. “I had no idea—”

“Wait!” He shook his head, laughed. “It’s not because I don’t like it at your place. I do. But you’ve been baking for the past few weeks and I’ve only made it down to Kyle’s workout station for two sessions. As self-appointed tester it was my duty to sample everything, but I think it’s cost me quite a few pounds. Besides, I’m beginning to dream of gingerbread men attacking me.”

“Oh.” She leaned back against the seat, apparently satisfied.

“If you don’t mind, we’ll stop at Quinn’s for about half an hour, then go to the stores. We have lots of security in the mall and all of them will be watching out for Mr. Redding. Of course you’ll need to keep your eyes peeled, just in case, but I seriously doubt he’ll recognize this car or us in our disguises.”

He wiggled his eyebrows, faking a leer at her. She was so much fun. It was hard to imagine that one day he’d leave, get on with his job while she and the kids got on with their lives. They’d become very important to him, but he’d forced himself to back off after the shooting that night at his parents. Too much depended on him focusing on his job. Letting his emotions distract him could get Chloe killed.

“Here we are. Slide over this side to get out.” He hurried her in the door past his brother. “We made it.”

“I see that. I’m just not sure who you are.” Quinn grinned at their unusual outfits, then led the way to his downstairs workshop and the kits he’d assembled on the worktable that edged the room. “These are samples. Do you think they’re too difficult?”

As they discussed the newest project for the model club, Brendan was aware that Chloe was moving about the work
shop, running her hand over several pieces of unfinished furniture Quinn had in progress—his Christmas gifts. She stopped at the very end where, in a corner, a small gate-legged table sat. She touched it as if it were priceless glass, her long fingers delicately exploring the intricate work, crouching down to get a better look at the mechanism. He knew by the way her body froze the exact moment she spied the price tag.

Brendan turned back to Quinn, who had also seen Chloe’s reaction to the piece he’d made for a socialite he’d once dated. The woman had dumped him in the middle of a restaurant, which had left the town talking for weeks. The table had been left to gather dust. Until now.

“Looks good to me, bro. If you’re satisfied, then I am, too.” Brendan slapped him on the shoulder. “If it’s okay with you we’ll start working on these kits when the club resumes after Christmas.”

“Good.”

“If you created all of these you are obviously very talented,” Chloe said, admiring the tallboy cabinet Quinn was making for Fiona.

“Thank you. It’s my passion, which is probably why there’s never enough time. Especially before Christmas.” He reached out, straightened her wig. “If I hadn’t known you were coming, I’d never have guessed it was you.”

“Music to my ears. And speaking of Christmas, we have to go.” Brendan grinned at Chloe. “We’re trying shopping today.”

“You? Shopping early?” Quinn shook his head. “Will wonders never cease? Need some company?”

“Thanks, but I think we’re okay.” Brendan grinned. “I know you’ve got a couple of things happening at work that won’t wait. Wouldn’t hurt to pray, though.”

Quinn led the way upstairs. “I will, but call me if you need me.”

“Thanks.” Brendan ushered Chloe out to the vehicle, then they headed for the shops. As usual she was very organized and worked her way from one end of the mall to the other, ticking
off each item on her list. Weary from another sleepless night, he finally demanded lunch.

The secluded corner they were shown to was perfect for watching other shoppers. Soft schmaltzy Christmas music played in the background.

“I noticed you admiring that table at Quinn’s.”

“It was fantastic,” she told him, leaning back as the waiter set steaming plates of lasagna and a basket of garlic bread before them. “I’ve been looking for something like it for a long time, but I could never afford anything as beautiful as that.”

“Maybe if you asked for it for Christmas?” he teased, then wished he hadn’t when storm clouds filled her eyes.

“I don’t think in terms of what I want when it comes to Christmas. I haven’t done that since I was a kid.” She tasted her meal, closing her eyes briefly as she savored the robust flavor. “I know it doesn’t look like it now, but we had a lot of stuff when I was a child. The floor under the Christmas tree was always stacked with gifts. A lot of them said they were from my father.”

“Oh.” He ate his own meal, content to listen as she shared.

“They weren’t. My mother put his name on them. I figured that out when he never knew what I was thanking him for. I decided I’d never do that with my own children and I never have. I needed the truth so badly in those days. I’m never going to have my children feel like I did—I don’t want them to believe that I lied to them for any reason.” She shook her head to emphasize her point and had to readjust the wobbly wig. “Those cool elegant untouchable Christmas tables and decorations everyone oohs and aahs over? I had those. Believe me, I’d have traded them in for a warm happy family in an instant.”

He waited as a flicker of emotions flashed through her eyes.

“Your brother’s table is fantastic, but I don’t need it, Brendan. Someday I’ll find one in the secondhand store or at an auction. What I
need
for Christmas is for the kids and me to be together and safe and happy.” She took a bite of garlic bread,
shrugged. “It would also be nice if Steve could remember Maddy and Kyle on Christmas day, but, I don’t control that.”

“But the kids can’t always be the center of your Christmas. Surely you intend to remarry.” He frowned at the face she made. “You’re young, gorgeous and full of life, Chloe. You’re not ready to lock yourself away.”

“I’m not ready to be married again, either.” Her blunt voice made no attempt to sugarcoat the truth. “I’ve seen second marriages. The man resents the kids, the kids resent him.” She shook her head. “Not having a full-time father is better than marrying the wrong man and making everyone unhappy.”

“There are lots of successful second marriages, too,” he countered. “Sure it takes work, but isn’t commitment what marriage is all about? Anyway, what guy wouldn’t love Madison and Kyle? They’re great kids.”

“I think so. That’s why I try so hard to be there for them, to show them what they mean to me. I don’t get it right all the time, but at least they know I’ll always love them, that I’m not going to run away when they’re sleeping.” A hint of bitterness colored her words.

Chloe ate some more of her lasagna then pushed it away. Brendan could almost see the old memories dousing her appetite and leeching away the joy.

She looked up, caught his stare. “I’m sorry for sounding so crabby.”

“You really got the raw end of the deal when it comes to the men in your life, didn’t you?” He cupped her cheek. “Not all men are like that, Chloe. Lots of them want to be a good father, a good husband. Lots of them care enough to give fatherhood their all.”

“Yes.” She leaned back, away from his touch. “My head knows that. It’s my heart that has trouble believing it.” She stared at the table for a moment then lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “I guess the past is too deeply ingrained.”

“Then you have to figure out how to let it go. It’s the past,
Chloe. There’s nothing you can do to change what happened with your father or Steve. It’s great you’ve made up your mind to protect the kids, but you also have to open your mind to the future. God doesn’t expect us to change what we can’t. He expects us to use what we’ve learned on our future. Don’t let
their
mistakes—your father’s, Steve’s—haunt the rest of
your
life.”

“I don’t know how not to do that. Besides, it’s not only my life that’s involved,” she whispered, her eyes huge in that pale haunting face.

“I know you’re worried about your kids.” He leaned forward, intent on saying the words he’d kept bottled up for so long. “Any mother would be. But at a certain point, you’re going to have to let go and trust that Madison and Kyle have learned the lessons you’ve taught them. You’ll have to stand back and watch them move on. Don’t you think they’ll learn that even more effectively by watching how you manage your own life?”

“Maybe.” Her incredibly long lashes swept upward as she blinked away a tear. “I don’t suppose you’ve anyone in mind to help me with this, do you?”

Me
, his heart screamed.
I could be there. I’d make sure you never doubted my feelings, that your children were safe, that we set a good example for them.

But he quashed it down, forced a smile to his lips. FBI agents did not get personally involved with their cases. It was a cardinal rule, something he’d understood the day he’d signed on. Personal involvement dulled your edge. So he smiled, shook his head.

“I’ll keep an eye out if you like,” he told her, praying she wouldn’t take him up on it. “Maybe you should tell me what you’re looking for and I’d have a better idea who’d work for you.”

“I thought we’d established that I’m not looking.” Chloe slid her arms into her coat and rose. “Didn’t you say you wanted to pick up a few gifts before we left?”

“Yeah. I’m trying to turn over a new leaf and shop before Christmas Eve.” He gave up the argument easily, knowing there
was no way to win. If he found someone for Chloe, he’d be betraying himself, and if he didn’t—well, the thought of her in ten years, still distrustful, but with Madison and Kyle gone, that worried him. She was too vital, too full of life, too wonderful to be wasted on a betrayer like Steve Tanner. “Let’s go.”

In the huge department store, Brendan chose a big bottle of his mother’s favorite perfume and a silken scarf, several books his father had mentioned at his birthday party, a plain black sweater for Quinn that had absolutely nothing written on the front of it and some CDs. While Chloe was choosing a Christmas outfit, he managed, with the help of a willing salesgirl, to buy two more items that were discreetly boxed and slipped among his purchases.

They moved on. At the electronics store he was mesmerized by the latest gizmos and poked his way through them while Chloe discussed the purchase of a laptop for Kyle. A news item on the television caught his attention. Seventeen teens were being rushed to the hospital with suspected drug overdoses. Thankfully the school was not Kyle’s. Moments later his phone rang.