Cold Target (51 page)

In the last few weeks, she'd lost her family. Now, as Gage took her hand and squeezed it, she knew she had discovered a new family.

Gage watched the reunion in the soft twilight. A lump formed in his throat. He thought of how Meredith had fought for this moment, had never ceased looking despite all the roadblocks thrown in her way.

Her sister had the same grit.

He thought of Clint. Of his middle brother, Terry, who had died in a gang fight. Of his mother who simply didn't have the emotional or financial ability to cope with raising three boys.

He had tried to help them, but he wondered whether he had ever done enough. He realized now he'd kept an emotional distance from Clint, terrified that he would lose him as he had lost Terry.

No more. He would make sure Clint had everything he needed to succeed. Particularly love. And support.

He could do that now. He had closed down years ago and hadn't realized it. Whether it was due to Debbie's betrayal, Terry's death or his mother's, he didn't know. He just knew it had happened.

Meredith awakened his heart with her own passion and guts.

He leaned over and kissed her. “I love you,” he whispered.

Her face transformed in front of him. He'd always liked her face. Integrity radiated from it. Honesty. But now she looked truly beautiful. God, he loved her.

“We had better get down before it gets any darker,” Menelo warned.

They started down the path, this time Gage leading the way, his hand clasped with Meredith's. Menelo carried the boy. Dom steadied his daughter. Gage could only imagine what Dom was going through.

How would he feel at suddenly discovering he was a father?

Emotion surged through him. It was so strong, he almost stumbled. He tried to identify it.
Tenderness
. That was it. And love so powerful, it could overcome anything.

They finally reached the cabin. An ambulance had taken away the wounded shooter. The sheriff called his office and ordered that there be an around-the-clock guard on the gunman.

Menelo then talked softly to Meredith's sister. Gage heard the name, “Marty.” Holly's face crumpled at the news, and Menelo called the hospital. “Marty's in recovery,” he said. “She's going to be okay.”

Gage watched the interaction between the sheriff and Holly.

They couldn't keep their eyes off each other. And the moment Menelo sat down, the boy crawled up in his lap. It was obvious that Holly and her son had a protector. A strong, competent one.

Starting with Meredith, they told the story to Holly. Dom finished with the events of thirty-three years earlier: his arrest, his imprisonment.

Holly's eyes filled several times. “I'm so sorry,” she told Dom.

His hand trembled slightly in his lap. “Believe me, everything was worth it to find you. And my grandson.”

“We still need the DNA,” Menelo warned. “We can get the blood work done at the hospital tonight and drive it to a lab in Tucson first thing in the morning. Until we get the results and get the prisoner talking, we have damned little proof.”

“What about tonight?” Meredith asked. “Could there be anyone else out there?”

“I want Liz to stay with me,” Doug said. “With added protection.” He paused. “If that's what she wants to do.”

Holly nodded. “Thank you. Harry will love that.”

“I wish I had more room, but I don't,” he added regretfully. “But the Copper Queen is a great hotel and I'll assign a couple of troopers there. We can have breakfast at my place, then drive to Tucson.”

Meredith broke in. “I think Holly—or should we call you Liz?—needs some time to absorb this. I know I did.”

“It's Holly. I always felt a little uncomfortable with Liz.”

“Holly.” Doug tried it on his tongue. “I like it, too. And Harry?”

“His given name is Michael. I always called him Mikey, but he really has become Harry to me.”

Harry had been drowsing with the sheriff's arms but perked up when he heard his name. “Like Harry Potter,” he said.

“And you are a little wonder, just like him,” Holly said. “You were so brave and smart.” She looked up, pride all over her face. “He threw a stone and distracted that man … and then Caesar knocked him down.”

“I'm impressed,” Meredith said, smiling.

“I want to be just like Sher'f Doug,” Harry said, and closed his eyes again.

Hours later, Gage and Meredith shared a glass of wine in their room at the Copper Queen, a legendary hotel which, they were told, had been a frequent haunt of John Wayne.

Dom had retired to a room next door. He had calls to make, he'd said, but Meredith felt he really just needed time alone.

So did they.

But first Meredith wanted to call Sarah and tell her all was well and ask if anything needed her attention.

Sarah answered on the first ring. “Thank God, you called. I've been worried.”

“It's been a busy day. We found my sister.”

“Are you sure?”

“As sure as I can be without the DNA test. Any problems?”

“Other than having a boss who has been a target of some madman, nothing.”

“I think it will soon come to an end,” Meredith said.

“Oh, someone from your father's law firm called. Associates have been going through his files to divide the cases and decide if any required follow-up work. They found an envelope made out to you.”

“Where is it now?”

“It's in the office safe.”

“Good. I should be home tomorrow. I'll check it then.” She hung up.

Gage had taken off his shirt. He looked terrific, but then he always did. He gave her a quizzical look.

“Sarah says my father's law firm called about an envelope an associate found in one of his files. It was addressed to me. I can't imagine why he would put something there instead of giving it to me.”

“I'll call about flights tomorrow afternoon,” he said.

She hesitated. She'd told Sarah she would be back, she needed to go back, but she really didn't want to leave her sister. Not now. “We won't know about the blood tests then.”

“Menelo will let us know.”

“I like him.”

“I do, too,” Gage said. “I noticed he threw away the rule book a couple of times.”

He reached out to her and pulled her against him. Both of them had a few cuts from flying windshield glass but nothing serious, and now all she wanted was to lie in his arms. They both had been exhausted, too exhausted to do more than order a hamburger from room service, take a shower and lie on the bed.

His lips touched hers and all the exhaustion fled. There was something in his eyes that hadn't been there before. A commitment. A comfort along with passion. As if he'd settled something deep inside himself.

She touched his cheek, feeling the roughness of a new beard. Then she buried her fingers in his hair, savoring the closeness, drinking in the essence of him.

“I love you, Meredith Rawson,” he said, his lips brushing the words against her skin. He'd said it earlier, but then adrenaline had been running in all of them.

The earth moved and the heavens thundered, all within her soul.

She moved her hand, her fingers tracing the crinkles around his eyes, the almost invisible dimple until he smiled.

“I love you,” she said. “More than I thought it possible to love someone.”

“I have a lot of baggage,” he said. “My brother should get out of prison next week. He will have to stay with me awhile.”

“Need a good lawyer to help?”

“I was depending on that,” he said with the slow rare grin that had always captivated her.

“What other baggage?”

“The Beast.”

“I adore Beast.”

“He will try to push you out of bed.”

“I can hold my own.”

“You can, indeed,” he said.

“There was something else,” she said.

“Nothing important. Not now.”

“What was it?”

He shrugged. “The differences between us, between our backgrounds.”

She sat up. “I didn't know you were a snob.”

He smiled at that. “I was engaged in college,” he said. “A girl from a very good family. I was a football jock. A hero. Then I injured my knee and was told I couldn't play football again. She was gone the next day.”

“Did you love her?”

“I thought I did. She was everything a poor kid from the slums ever wanted. Beauty. Class.” He played with her hair.

“Doesn't sound like much class to me.”

He shrugged. “I had my shallow moments. But it hurt, and for a long time it was hard to trust again. Then my job got in the way. It's difficult being a cop's wife and it's hell on a marriage.” His gaze never left hers.

He was asking a question.

“It's difficult being
anyone's
wife or husband,” she said. “But I never thought love meant asking someone to change what they are. And you, my love, are a cop down to your toes.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Was that the question?”

“I think so.”

“Once more with feeling,” she said.

He hesitated. “I just want you to know what you're getting into. Clint. The job. I can try to get another one.”

“Yes, I know what I'm getting into. No, you are not to get another job, and no, I am not going to let you go out the door again,” she said. “So yes, I will marry you despite that decidedly unromantic proposal.”

He grimaced. “I'm not good at romance, either.”

But he was. He was always there when she needed him. He accepted her without question. He made her smile. He filled what had always been an empty place. He warmed all the cold places.

He offered all the romance she needed.

She nibbled at his lips. His mouth claimed hers.

And then they became very, very romantic.

“I'm so sorry I had to lie to you.”

Holly's gaze met Doug's.

She had gone to the hospital with him, checked on Marty who was asleep but doing fine, and waited while he talked to the injured man. He would live, Doug had reported back to her. And he was already talking. He named someone she didn't know, but now they had a trail to follow.

Then they had gone to Doug's home. She'd been there before when he had cooked steaks. His sister and niece lived right across the road.

Harry was tucked into a second bed in Jenny's room.

Doug made her some hot chocolate.

He brushed a short curl off her forehead. “You had good reason. You must have been terrified.”

“More than that,” she said.

“You'll probably have to go back to New Orleans and make a statement about the night you left. Your statement should be on the record. But not until we know we can protect you. If the DNA proves what Gaynor and Meredith believe, Judge Matthews's credibility will be destroyed.”

“I know.” She shuddered. She didn't want to ever see Randolph again, or her father. The man she'd always thought was her father, but who had never acted as such. Now she understood why.

“When this is all sorted out, do you want to return to New Orleans?” he asked cautiously.

“No. This is my home.”

He touched her face with such gentleness she wanted to cry.

She lifted her face in invitation.

He accepted. His lips touched hers with infinite tenderness, like a whisper. He deepened the kiss until she was swirling with the magic of it. His hands massaged the back of her neck, and she was filled with delicious sensations and a warmth that crept into every fiber of her being.

He released her lips and picked her up, taking her into his bedroom.

He undressed her, gave her one of his shirts to wear, then guided her down on the bed.

He took off his shoes. But then he lay next to her. Holding her. Caressing her. Teaching her to trust.

Teaching her the meaning of love.

Samuel Matthews heard from the investigator who had sent the two men to Bisbee.

“One's dead. The other is talking. I'm getting the hell out of the country while I can. You might do the same.”

Samuel lowered the phone. He had thought he'd put enough distance between himself and the people he'd paid to take care of problems. He had no doubt now that everything was falling apart.

DeWitt was looking into the adoption and his father's will. Holly was alive and the DNA would prove she wasn't his child. When one thread was broken, the others would unravel quickly enough.

He blamed Randolph. If his son-in-law hadn't hired an incompetent to rid himself of Holly, perhaps none of this would have happened. But now it was quite likely Samuel's role in Cross's conviction would become known, as well as his connections with dubious campaign funds and the death of Prescott so many years ago.

He knew one thing. He would not go to prison.

He went through his desk, shredding some documents and burning them in the fireplace. He did leave two documents that would destroy Randolph Ames.

He drank some of his expensive brandy, smoked a cigar and looked around at the photos on the walls. Samuel with the president. Samuel with three governors. Samuel with a U.S. Supreme Court justice. The latter had been his goal once. Perhaps he had never stopped hoping.

He had another glass, went into the bathroom and straightened his tie.

Then he went downstairs and picked up his keys.

No note. No obvious suicide. No warning to Randolph.

He got into his car and backed out.

He knew just the place to run his car off the road.

A tragic accident.

It would be a grand funeral.

Gage and Meredith heard the news when they landed in New Orleans. There was no reason now to fly to Birmingham. Holly was found and was being protected. Dom had decided to stay in Bisbee for a few more days. He wanted to get to know his daughter and grandson.

The television from a bar boomed out the news:
Supreme Court Judge Samuel Matthews Dead In Accident
.