THE RISK OF LOVE AND MAGIC (26 page)

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Authors: Patricia Rice

Tags: #psychic, #comedy, #wealthy, #beach, #Malcolm, #inventor, #virgin, #California

BOOK: THE RISK OF LOVE AND MAGIC
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He
was ready to settle down with one woman. That realization floored him. It shouldn’t have. He’d actually considered marrying not too long ago, until the ground had been ripped from under him. He thought he’d learned his lesson. Apparently not.

Her eyelids blinked rapidly, and her hands twitched. Magnus set his mouth and studied the mirrors he’d positioned to catch views through the windows. A cluster of crows flew up abruptly, cawing protests. Without moving, he couldn’t see far enough to tell what had disturbed them.

Conan had the RV under surveillance, but his men would be too far away to help if anyone broke in. Magnus counted his improvised weapons, primed his muscles for action, and waited.

He was damned tired of waiting. They couldn’t use any communication that the general’s minions might intercept while they waited like sitting ducks. Once he could use his phone again, he’d ask Conan if he’d succeeded in getting his Camaro out of impound yet. His smart car would be an excellent tool for tracking the general.

He didn’t want to focus on Nadine, but his eyes were drawn to her without deliberation. If he were a man who thought in literary terms, he’d compare her to the gleaming temptation of an entire toolbox stocked with everything a man could imagine. But he was a mechanic and she wasn’t a tool and he couldn’t fit them together in any other context.

She sighed in frustration and straightened, turning to him with open eyes. “We’ll need to wait for dark. There’s too much activity inside. I can sense her, but I can’t reach her.”

“Nap, then,” he suggested. “You’ll need your strength later. I’ll keep watch.”

She glanced at the clock on the tiny microwave. “It will be dark in about two hours, right? Let’s eat our sandwiches, then I’ll try to nap a bit. I’m not good at it.”

He attempted a suggestive leer and she snickered, but they both knew the RV couldn’t be seen moving. Their motions had to be slow and cautious.

He had to find a way to make certain last night wasn’t the last time they made love. That was as far as he could plan.

***

Magnus watched the sun fade into desert darkness. He could see nothing in his mirrors now. Nadine had finished her sandwich, made a pretense of napping, then settled into her meditation position again. If this didn’t work, he was driving to Palm Springs. Maybe he’d borrow a tank and just drive over the general’s fence and minefields. Getting arrested would be better than this idleness.

Nadine seemed to be murmuring a senseless conversation he couldn’t quite follow. But she didn’t seem to be in a panic that might require action.

He clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling useless. He should have brought his weights with him. A few arm curls would help.

A small thump hit the side of the RV. Nadine slumped, but she was on a bed. She couldn’t hurt herself. He didn’t have to panic and disturb her concentration by touching her. He was actually starting to accept her little
spells
as normal.

Magnus gripped the hammer he kept at his side. It looked like the kind of weapon a normal RV driver might have on hand, except he knew how to use it in lethal ways. He dropped his boots to the floor and waited for another sound. He didn’t want to reveal their presence if a raccoon had just tested the water reservoir.

A man shouted. A child whimpered. Magnus was on his feet and half way to the door when Nadine roused.

He held up his hand. “You can’t go out there. This could be a trap.”

“I hate when you do that,” she muttered, rubbing her temples.

“You hate when I’m right,” he corrected. “You’re used to being the only one who is right.”

She snickered, and relieved, he cracked open the door. A child cried out in . . . startlement? Holding his hammer at his side, he stepped down from the RV, closing the door behind him. No headlights flashed down the dark highway.

An owl hooted in the grove of trees down by the dry creek bed. A streak of white darted around the corner of the RV.

“Kid, get your ass back here before I whup it good,” a male voice shouted from behind the cactus hedge marking the school’s boundary. “The coyotes are going to eat you if you don’t get back here.”

As if in agreement, a coyote yipped in the distance. The trees rustled with a chilly night breeze. Magnus stuck to the shadowy side of the RV and eased to the corner where he’d seen the glimpse of white.

“Kid? You okay?” he whispered, figuring it was probably one of the most asinine things he’d ever spoken to thin air. But he’d seen the kids in Kabul disappear into crevasses. He hoped this one spoke English.

“The lady said she’d be here,” a plaintive whisper replied.

Nadine had done it. She’d brought the kid out. His pulse pounded as he hit fight and protect modes at the same time.

“She’s inside,” he whispered, still off balance from this impossibility. “She can’t come out. Are you Mikala?” He thought he saw a flutter of white on the driver’s side of the van.

“You’re the man?” she whispered back. “You’ll help us?”

“That’s why I’m here.” He hoped. He had utterly no clue what he was expected to do with a runaway child. He was a law abiding type, not a kidnapper. “Don’t go away,” he warned. “It really is dangerous out there.”

“I want to see the lady,” she insisted.

“Let me handle this guy looking for you first.” Magnus could see the guard storming toward the RV.

He stepped out of the shadows, into the road to meet the guard half way. “Trouble, mister?” he asked calmly. He loomed a head above the rotund guard. Sometimes, his size worked for him. “I heard shouting.”

“You with that thing?” The guard nodded at the RV.

“I’m waiting for my partner to return with a tire. What’s the problem?” he asked again.

“Mind if I take a look inside?”

“I most certainly do. Maybe I should rephrase the question—who the
hell
are you?” Magnus crossed his arms and blocked the guard’s view of the van.

“I’m from the school down the road. We’ve got a runaway. You could be some kind of sick sex maniac.” The guard spoke into his radio.

“What kind of kidnapper would sit out here with a flat tire?” Magnus gestured at the vehicle and pulled out his cell phone. “If a kid is missing, the sensible thing to do is call the cops, isn’t it?”

The guard hastily signaled for him to put the phone away. “No point in getting ahead of ourselves. If I can just get the kid, there’s no problem.”

Magnus punched in 911 anyway. He had confidence in Conan’s people. Besides detectives, the team contained teachers, social workers, and law enforcement officers who cared what happened to missing children. Conan would have had them monitoring the situation out here ever since Vera had told them about the school.

“Just let me look around,” the guard pleaded. “She’s just a brat that needs to be in bed. We don’t need cops for that.”

“Kids usually don’t run away for no reason.” He couldn’t chase this guy off through intimidation. Time for Plan B . . . “If she’s around here . . . Hey, kid,” Magnus called over his shoulder. “If you’re there, do you want to go with this guy?”

“No!” came a firm reply. “They’ll lock me up and give me bread and water like they did Robby. I want my mama.”

Magnus shrugged. “Looks like we got ourselves a runaway after all.”

He spoke into the phone to the dispatcher answering. “We have a bit of a problem, ma’am,” he said in his best
aw shucks
voice. He gave a description of their location and kept blocking the guard from going around him. He was faster on his feet than the round guy. “We’ve got a kid saying she and others have been abused, and a guy who just threated to whip her. I’m not letting him have her until some official tells me it’s okay.”

The security guard screamed urgent orders into his radio.

Magnus leaned his shoulder against the RV’s door, opening it just enough so Nadine could overhear. “What’s your mama’s name, kid?” he asked. “Can I call her?”

“No,” the little voice said forlornly. “She’s not there. She’s never there. I’ve tried and tried to call.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s not there. We’ll work it out. The sheriff is a real nice man. He’ll help us, too. You want to come out here where we can see you?” Magnus held his breath and thought he heard Nadine bite back hers.

The kid didn’t reply.

Behind him, Nadine hissed. “Say we have Oreos.”

“Look, I’ll get some Oreos from inside, and you can just sit here on the step behind me until the sheriff comes, okay?” he said, willing to try whatever Nadine suggested.

The situation made him antsy. He couldn’t fight off an army of security if they arrived. He couldn’t even escape on a flat tire. He hadn’t quite thought that part through. He’d counted on Conan’s team flying to the rescue, but they were a little slow tonight and the situation was escalating faster than anticipated.

Planning ahead was not his strong point.

A motorcycle roared down the road just as the white figure passed in front of the RV, drawn by the offer of cookies. The headlight caught a stocky child, with thin straight mouse-brown hair, wearing an ankle-length nightgown. She froze in the glare, then darted toward Magnus.

He stepped into the road, blocking the kid from the guard making a grab for her. A little music, and they could cha-cha. “Your dance moves need work,” Magnus said, causing the guard to look at him if he was crazed. Obviously, he was. A sane man wouldn’t be out here with a broken down RV protecting two mental cases from a seriously paranoid berserko.

The motorcycle halted in the road. The driver took off her helmet and swung a head full of blond hair free. “Problem, boys?”

“Nothing to do with you,” the guard growled. “Move along.”

A Jeep rumbled up the drive from the school, and the guard relaxed a fraction. Reinforcements had arrived.

The child hid behind Magnus. He noted that a package of Oreos had materialized on the step of the RV. The child settled into the safe enclosure of the steps and munched contentedly.

On the off chance that the motorcycle rider was one of Conan’s plants, Magnus shrugged when she glanced his way. “He’s hunting a runaway. The runaway is crying abuse. I’ve called the cops. If that Jeep over there starts shooting, you might want to hightail it out of here and warn someone.”

“Is that the runaway behind you?” she asked, ignoring his warning. “Do you have a name, hon?”

Magnus heard Nadine whisper urgently when the girl hesitated. The kid glanced uncertainly up at him, then reassured, she turned to the woman and nodded.

“My name is Mikala. I want my mama.”

That seemed to be all the inspiration the motorcyclist needed. She rolled the heavy bike between the van and the Jeep screeching to a halt in the middle of the road. “Well, then, I guess I’ll just sit here and make sure Mikala is safe until the sheriff arrives. We girls have to stick together. Hi, I’m Alista Mayhew, a special ed teacher at the local middle school.” She stuck her hand out to Magnus.

“Good to meet you, Alista.” He shook her hand and heard Nadine snort. He didn’t try to interpret the snort but refrained from getting too friendly with the pretty blonde. “Thanks for standing in. I figure my wife would raise a ruckus if I didn’t step in to help a kid. I know my nephews can fib at the drop of a hat, but I just can’t take that chance, right?”

Oz ought to hire him as one of his actors. Life had been easier when all he’d had to do was shoot the bad guys.

A taller, more menacing guard stepped from the Jeep. This one wore a holster. “She’s one of our students. Her parents left her in our care. Step aside, and we’ll take her back to the school where she belongs.”

“Not until she talks to her parents and the sheriff says it’s okay,” Magnus said, continuing to block the door where the kid sat. “If the sheriff is satisfied, then I’ll just go back to my nap. Do you know your phone number, Mikala?”

The kid looked to be about ten. She nodded and gave him a number. Magnus plugged it in, but the bars on his phone had suspiciously dropped out. “Well, now, looks like we suddenly have a little reception problem. Maybe the sheriff’s line will work. Looks like him coming now.”

Red and blue lights flashed down the road.

Two more guards from the Jeep got out and approached. Magnus knew he was outnumbered. So did the guards.

“You don’t need to get involved,” the guy with the holster said with what was supposed to be reassurance. “The sheriff knows the school houses troublemakers. Just go back to your nap and we’ll handle it.”

“Nope, that’s not the way I look at it.” Magnus tried to look non-threatening, but he maintained a stance directly in front of the child. He was eager for action, except bullets and children didn’t mix.

As expected, two of the guards attempted to grab him while the third reached for Mikala. Fully prepared and happy to mix it up a little, Magnus whacked his elbow into the nose of the guy on his right, swung his hammer into the ribs of the one on his left, and booted the crotch of the one reaching for Mikala.

The sheriff’s car pulled up with lights flashing just as the victim of the crotch blow covered his nuts and crumpled.

“Got a little trouble, boys?” the uniformed officer asked, stepping from the car and taking in the situation.

“Want an Oreo?” Mikala whispered behind him.

A grin tugged the corner of Magnus’s mouth. That sounded like something Nadine would say. “You putting ideas in her head?” he murmured while the sheriff dusted off the guards.

“No, she’s just generous,” Nadine whispered back. “Can I come out now?”

“No,” he said firmly, before hauling up the guy with the bloody nose. “They attacked me,” he asserted loudly. “Miss Mayhew can testify to that. Mikala, you can come out now. The sheriff is one of the good guys.” He hoped.

A woman stepped from the passenger side of the sheriff’s car carrying a clipboard and looking officious. The sheriff gestured in her direction. “This is Ellen Ramirez. She’s with social services.”

Magnus shook her hand. Alista and Ellen seemed to know each other and exchanged greetings.

Mikala peered tentatively around his legs. “Can I call my mama to take me home?”

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