Shiver of Fear (32 page)

She touched the accelerator and stayed three car lengths behind. Before long, the Scion turned down a side street, picked
up Beacon where it headed west, and drove along the side of the Common, then the Public Garden. Lang’s driver found a spot
and parked. She stayed on the street, inching along as the two men got out of the car.

“That’s no FBI agent,” she said, checking out the older man who climbed out of the driver’s seat. “They have to have an age
limit.”

“Hey, watch it,” Nino said. “Although that guy does look more my age than yours.”

“I guess I’ll wait until he gets back and grab him when he goes to the car. Interrupting them would just be awkward.”

The two men headed toward the gates of the Public Garden, leaving her no option but to slide into a handicapped
spot, where she kept the motor on for a quick escape if a cop came while she watched. Deep in conversation, Lang towered over
the older man, whose face was tucked under the brim of a Red Sox baseball cap.

“Think it’s Lang’s dad?” she asked.

Just inside the gates of the park, they sat on a bench, still within sight, the lake behind them. They talked for a few minutes,
close to each other. Vivi watched, still intrigued by the meeting—by everything about Lang, she had to admit—while Nino unfolded
the letter they’d pieced and taped together.

“You know what I think we should do before we hand this over?” Nino asked. “Call that number.”

She’d love to. “But then we really
would
be obstructing justice. Lang’ll never give us any business.”

“You were ready to bring the guy in on your own.”

She sighed. “I know. I’m going to have to beg Lang to work on this case, and I just know that stick-in-the-mud is going to
say no.”

Nino already had his phone out. “I can star sixty-nine it, then say I have a wrong number.”

She was only mildly surprised Nino knew that trick. “What will that get you?” she asked.

“A voice. You can tell Lang if a man or woman answered.” He dialed, and Vivi didn’t stop him, her curiosity too strong. Once
she turned over that letter to Lang, she might be completely out of the loop on this.

The men were getting up, separating from each other. Lang headed deeper into the park, toward the pond where the swan boats
were tied up and docked at the side.

“Oh, crap, is he going to walk back to the office? I can’t follow him through the park.”

The other man shuffled back toward the street, coming through the gated entrance not twenty-five feet from where they were
parked.

“Okay, it’s ringing,” Nino said.

But her gaze was riveted to the older man whose step faltered at the curb, and for a minute, Vivi thought he was going to
stumble and fall. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone, frowning at the screen.

“Still ringing.”

Vivi’s whole body went numb.

The man flipped open the phone, put it to his ear, and spoke. She heard the “Hello?” through the speaker in Nino’s hand.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “That’s Finn MacCauley.”

And disappearing into the darkness of the Public Garden was the FBI agent who claimed he wasn’t interested in finding him.

T
here was no satellite service, even when Marc stepped outside to try and call Boston, which wasn’t that unusual for these
more remote parts of Northern Ireland. Unable to give or get any new information, he waited in the room for Devyn to come
out of the bathroom.

Giving him just enough time to hate himself for what he’d just done but accept that he’d do it again.

The ultimate rescue was right in the palm of his hand, literally, and he’d turned it down. Way to go.

He closed his eyes, wanting to picture Devyn naked and wet and wanting him, but all he could see was Laura, spiteful and mocking
and hating him. He may have had the power to make her pay for her crimes, but she had the power to make him feel the real
pain of loss. How could he ever give that power to another woman?

No matter what she planned to do with it, giving a
baby to Devyn was setting him up for another world of hurt. She’d have to find another man.

Yet, something very elemental in him twisted at the thought. He didn’t want her to find another man.

He looked up when the bathroom door opened, surprised to see her dried and dressed… for travel. He’d expected a robe or maybe
a T-shirt and shower-wet hair, not jeans, a hooded jacket, and sneakers. She had her purse over her shoulder and a don’t-stop-me
look on her face.

“You’re not going to Belfast,” he said softly. “Because I will stop you. With my gun, if necessary.”

“Not necessary. I’m going to Boston,” she replied. “The inn owner said he’d get me a cab to the closest airport.”

He sat up from his lounging position on the pillows, not believing her. “You got phone service in there?”

She gave him a wry smile. “Not the response I expected, but, yes, I did.”

“You’re not going,” he said. “We’ll go together, tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I really
am
going home. I’m not trying to fool you and run into a spy shoot-out at a terrorist cell to save my mother. I’ve had enough
bad ideas for one day.”

The words stabbed him. “It wasn’t that bad of an idea.”

She skewered him with a dark look. “Don’t try to make me feel better. I’m embarrassed enough.”

Embarrassed? “Why?”

She closed her eyes. “I practically attacked you.”

“You did not.” He rose from the bed to get closer, but she took a step back, holding her shoulder bag like a shield. “There
were two very aroused people and all kinds of consent going on in there.”

“Not
all
kinds.”

“Devyn.” He reached for her cheek, but she ducked his touch. “You surprised me, that’s all.”

“I know what I did,” she said, averting her gaze and shifting her purse to the other arm. “Desperation makes strange bedfellows.”

“Don’t I know it.”

She looked up, confused. “You’re not desperate.”

“I was, once. Enough,” he added quickly, “to understand why you’d make a deal with the devil.”

“And you’re not a devil.”

“It’s a figure of speech. I just want to say that it’s not you. It’s
not
.”

“Don’t.” She held up her hand, fire in her eyes. “Don’t give me the speech. I know you think I’m nuts for thinking that what
I come from makes me unattractive to a potential… father.”

“I do,” he said. “I’m not going to lie. But what you wanted me to do, well, at least maybe that means you’ve come around.
Maybe now you believe you’re worthy of a child.”

“But not
your
child.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to say anything. You showed me what you’re made of, and it’s impressive. Control I didn’t think most men
even had.” She managed to step by him.

“I’m not most men,” he whispered.

Slowly she turned, her lower lip trapped under her teeth as if she could stop the trembling. “That’s why I asked.” She closed
her eyes and let out a soft laugh. “Except I didn’t ask, did I? I’m sorry I was so aggressive.”

“Don’t apologize. I should have stopped it before… before I did.”

The words seemed to take the steel out of her spine, and he reached for her again. This time, she let him grasp her shoulders,
meeting his gaze. Her eyes were blue pools of pain, locked on him.

“It was a crazy, impulsive idea,” she said. “My worst kind. But when you told me about Sharon and the… the terrorist, I just
went nuts.”

“There’s nothing nuts about wanting a baby.” He squeezed her shoulders and swallowed. “I want one myself.”

“But not—”

“
Not
,” he interjected forcefully, “unless I get to be a full-time, one hundred percent father. What you’re proposing—”

“I wasn’t
proposing
.”

“Devyn, listen to me.” He swallowed hard, pulling her closer. “I’ve had…” No, that wouldn’t work. “I know the…” No, he didn’t
really
know
. “This isn’t the first time…”

“What are you trying to say?”

“My wife aborted our child without telling me.”

She blinked at him, paling. “Oh, God. That’s horrible.”

“Yes, it was.”

“But were you absolutely sure… I mean, you said she had a lover.”

“A lover who had had a vasectomy. And, yes, I was sure. And it wasn’t an act of choice, but pure revenge after I refused to
cover for her. She lorded the pregnancy over me, knowing how much”—he let out a slow, long sigh—“knowing how much I wanted
the baby.”

She put her hand on her chest, as though she could feel the pain right where he did. “Couldn’t you stop her?”

“No. How? It’s her body, her baby. The day she was arraigned and set free on bail, she disappeared and I tried
to find her. I got my brother JP to use a police cruiser, and we stormed through Boston, searching for her. Searching every
clinic…” His throat closed at the memory. “I finally found her. It was too late.”

She took his hand in hers, tears of sympathy wetting her eyes. “That was so unfair, Marc. I’m really sorry. I don’t quite
know how…” She struggled with the words, searching his face. “I would never do something like that, obviously.”

“That’s why I can’t do what you want.” He drew her to the bed and pulled her down to sit next to him. “You need to understand
that it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.”

“With
her
,” she corrected. “I would never—”

“I know that, but what you would do or not do isn’t the point.” He looked away, shaking his head.

“Then what is?”

“Love.”

She just stared at him.

“I just really believe that a child should come from love. Not desperation, not a deal, not an arrangement. I know it’s old
school, but—”

“No, it’s not.” She stood slowly, wrapping her arms around her waist as she walked a few steps away. “It’s what we both know
is right, and that’s why I’m embarrassed.”

“Because I don’t love you?”

“Because you can’t love me.”

Who said that?

“I thought we could…” She shook her head. “It was crazy. It was really wrong of me.”

“It wasn’t crazy.” He stood to get in front of her and hold her face to force her to look at him. “The timing is
wrong, and that’s the only thing that’s wrong with your idea.”

She tilted her head, rubbing her cheek against his palm, the fight gone from her face, her expression all compassion. “I just
want a family.”

“I know. But I can’t be the one to—”

The rap on the door was hard, loud, and made her jump. “That’s my cab.”

“I’ll cancel it.”

“No, Marc, don’t. I want to leave. Tonight.”

“All right. We’ll go together.” He walked over to the door. “Can you wait a few minutes?” he called. “We’re still packing.”

“I don’t have a few minutes.” The voice was gruff, low, forceful. “Open up.”

Marc drew back and glanced at Devyn, taking one step to the left to retrieve his gun from the dresser.

“Get in the bathroom,” he ordered.

He peered out the peephole, then snapped the rack of the Glock with a violent yank, jumping to the side of the door, out of
firing range. “Jesus Christ, what is it with this guy?”

“Who is it?”

“The person who shows up when we need him most, every time.”

“Padraig Fallon?”

He nodded and waited until Devyn was hidden by the bathroom wall. “What do you want, Fallon?”

“Is the lass okay?”

“Yes. What’s going on?”

“Let me in and I’ll tell you.”

“Just tell me from there.”

He heard the older man suck in a breath and let it out slowly. “Listen, son, I’m breakin’ every fucking rule in the book to
help you. The Greenberg woman’s in trouble. She needs you.”

Devyn was out of the bathroom instantly. “What’s the matter?”

God
damn
it. They should have just left when she wanted to.

“She escaped, and she’s been shot.”

He looked at Devyn, dismay swaying her whole body. “You can’t believe him,” he mouthed. “It’s a setup.”

She gave him a pleading look.

“I have a message for her,” Fallon said. “For Rose.”

Devyn’s eyes widened. “Please? Let me hear.” She hustled closer to the door, and Marc moved her out of firing range, behind
him.

“Then deliver it, Fallon. And go.”

“She did her job, and one of our men let her go.”

“What job?” Marc demanded, one hand pressing to keep Devyn back. “She works for Baird. She’s a terrorist, and we don’t give
a damn if she’s shot or not.”

“She
doesn’t
work for Baird,” Fallon said. “She’s undercover for the SIS, as I am. Her cover was blown when she tried to contact Rose
to tell her to get out of Belfast.”

Was she? Gabe hadn’t thought so, and he would know, wouldn’t he? Maybe.

“She escaped and was shot, but no one on either side is going after her,” Fallon continued.

“Where is she?” Devyn asked.

It didn’t matter where she was—they weren’t going. “We can’t compromise the mission,” Marc said.

“The mission’s complete,” Fallon said. “Baird’s got what he wants from her, and we…” He sighed audibly. “God love the MI5,
but we are not set up to save martyrs. If you want to find her, my contact told me she’s in the cemetery, though that’s not
much of a pinpoint location considering the size of it.”

Marc peered out the peephole again, taking in Fallon’s wrinkled face and the hands he held out from his coat to show he was
unarmed. “How’d you get this message from her?”

“A young man by the name of Ian O’Rourke, another British agent who’s undercover on this operation. He’s the person who let
Dr. Greenberg escape. He asked me to deliver the message to you. She wants to see you desperately, ma’am.”

Desperation again.

“Fallon,” he said. “Greenberg is a terrorist working for Liam Baird. This was confirmed by someone in a position to know.”

“Unless that someone is the chief of the SIS, lad, then he isn’t in a position to know. This operation has been completely
dark, and there’s misinformation everywhere.”