Vanishing Act (18 page)

Reach and disarm her.

When she leaned left, he followed her direction. He kept bent at the waist, but never lost visual contact with her face as his feet pounded forward. She fired again, and he could feel the bullet graze his back. It stung for an instant then faded with all the other mayhem.

Don't get distracted.

Suddenly a third body appeared in his periphery, and for an instant Nate feared the worst. Danielle had gotten out of the car and was now in Ivey's sights.

He took his eyes off Ivey for less than a second, just long enough to confirm that the new addition was actually one of the truck drivers.

It was enough time for Ivey to point her gun, point blank at his chest. She pulled the trigger.

He waited for the explosion, for the debilitating pain. It didn't come. The bullet had jammed, and she was frantically trying to pull his gun from where she'd tucked it in the waistband of her jeans.

“Thank you, Lord,” was all he could manage, just as he slammed into her, knocking them both to ground. His biceps throbbed as she punched his wounded arm.

He'd never been in a brawl with a woman, but this one didn't fight fair. She tried a kick that would have sent him writhing on the ground if it had landed, but he dodged it just in time. Even with close to forty pounds on her, he struggled to subdue the scrappy woman. She tried another punch at his arm, but he knew that trick and shifted so she hit the muscles in his shoulder.

She still had a lot of fight left in her, so he grabbed her with one hand around the back of her neck, using his thumb and middle finger to apply pressure to the carotid artery in her neck.

Her eyes screamed hatred at him until they closed and she went limp. He didn't blame her—he was about to send her prison, probably for life.

Flipping her over, he used his handcuffs to secure her wrists, then hoisted her to a standing position.

The lone truck driver stood several yards back, his mouth hanging open, hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans. Nate didn't bother offering more than a quick nod to the stunned man as he dragged Ivey back to the car, opening the door to the backseat and lying her across the seat. In the front seat, he grabbed his phone. While hunting for his ID and badge, he made calls to the local police and Heather, each just a few seconds. Just enough information to get the right people on their way.

He was just finishing up with Heather, as he popped open the trunk.

Danielle, eyes closed and feverishly mouthing a prayer, was a sight for his tired eyes.

“Danielle.” She peeked one eye open just a crack.

“Nate!”

She seemed happy to see him, and he drank in her smile as he scooped her into his arms and set her on wobbly legs. She looked like a newborn colt using her legs for the first time, so he kept his hands on her arms to make sure she didn't fall as he released the restraints around her wrists.

“I'm so glad to see you. Are you okay? Where's Ivey? What happened?” Her questions didn't stop, they were just muffled, as she flung her arms around him and held on tight.

“I'm okay,” he whispered over and over into her hair, brushing kisses across the crown of her head.

After several long minutes, she pulled back just enough to look down at her left hand, which had been resting on his back. A crimson stain marred her soft skin. “You're hurt. We have to get you to a hospital.”

“It's okay. Help is on the way.”

As if they came when mentioned, sirens sounded in the distance, closing the gap to them in record time.

She seemed to know that their time alone together was coming to an end, so she hugged him once more, pressing her face into his neck. “Thank you.” He wasn't sure if he heard the words so much as felt them.

And then the others arrived.

It was like bees swarming an especially potent flower. Paramedics, police officers and special agents buzzed about, patching up his wounds and pulling Danielle far
ther and farther away until he couldn't see her for the circle attending to her needs.

He didn't see her again that day.

He wasn't sure he'd ever see her again.

D
anielle's heart pounded in her throat when the judge told her to take the stand. She nearly tripped as her heels slid along the tiles of the courtroom floor, but she recovered with as much grace as she could muster. Straightening the line of her black pencil skirt, she squared her shoulders and marched toward the seat at the front of the room that the bailiff indicated.

She took the chair and waited for the U.S. attorney, Mr. Mortimer, to begin questioning her. He'd rehearsed the queries with her several times over the last week, but it wasn't helping the butterflies swarming her stomach. This was an important moment, and Mr. Mortimer had said he didn't want to take any chances. Hers was the testimony that could pound the nail in Goodwill's coffin—or so he'd said. Adding a young witness who had been kidnapped could only help, so he'd been eager to get her on the stand.

He was busy shuffling papers, taking his time to see what reaction he could get out of Goodwill's attorneys. Her eyes darted to the other faces dotting the courtroom. It was almost empty, a closed courtroom, she'd been told. But there was one very familiar face, and as she met her father's gaze, she couldn't hold back a smile or the warmth that filled her chest.

His gold eyes, so similar to her own, stayed locked on her the same way she'd been unable to look away from him all week. If she looked away, he might disappear, and she would discover this was all a dream.

She was just learning how to blink again. Letting him disappear for a moment, and then realizing that he'd be there when her eyes opened. It was a lesson in trust that she could only master in time.

Eyes still trained on her dad, a small motion at the back of the room caught her attention. A man in a dark gray suit slipped out of the door, his movements silent and precise and somehow familiar. That brief glimpse reminded her of Nate.

But of course it wasn't him. Just a man with a similar build and hair color.

A quick glance around the room and she confirmed that he wasn't sitting in any of the seats. Had she really thought that Nate would show up? It was his case, but did she really expect him to be there?

Like every day since she'd last seen him, her heart broke a little bit.

Taking a deep breath, she sought eye contact with her dad one last time before the attorney took his place behind a podium and started by asking her name and her association with Parker James.

Just like they'd practiced, she repeated the words, trying not to sound rehearsed. The attorney led her through her original kidnapping in Portland. She relived the night her father was shot. And then she had to tell the whole room about her last two weeks in Crescent City. She revealed how Ivey—she had to get used to calling her Heidi Crane, the Shadow that had finally been identified—had gained her
confidence, hunted her in the blue Explorer and chased her through the woods. And she told them all about Nate.

It was all so personal. Almost too intimate to share with strangers, especially ones that rubbed shoulders with him regularly.

But she had to talk about him.

As she told the story of running to his home after being run off the road, Danielle remembered the laughter they shared over a bag of peas. When she explained how Nate stuck by her side like a shadow for two weeks, never giving the hired assassin an opportunity to make a move, her mind wandered to their nightly ritual of him walking to her door then going to the garage's office. She couldn't forget those kisses either.

“Can you tell the court what happened on October 2 of this year, which was last Wednesday?” the U.S. attorney asked.

She swallowed and cleared her throat, hoping she could get through the story without breaking down. “A loud noise outside my window woke me up early, and I went to see if I could find Nate. He wasn't in his car, which I thought was strange, so I went into the front office. He wasn't there, so I went into the garage. I'd been giving Ivey Platt—I mean Heidi Crane—some extra tutoring for the class at the college, and I was expecting her later that day, but I was stunned to find her there so early.”

It wouldn't help the case to admit that the real reason she'd gone looking for Nate was because of the fight they'd had the night before. How could she explain that that night and every night since she'd been plagued by guilt over her words and actions? She couldn't even put her finger on what it was that had caused her to react so emotionally, but she'd hurt Nate, and she needed to ask for his forgiveness.

And maybe with that forgiveness he'd offer her something more. Something that, if she was honest with herself, she'd hoped for since the first time he rescued her, the first time he kissed her.

Her hope had only grown with every minute they'd spent together and every selfless act on her behalf, the most amazing of which was putting himself in imminent danger so that Heidi would take him with them. He'd sacrificed his own safety, putting himself in front of the other woman's gun a second and even a third time even after he'd been shot.

It wasn't that she was in love with a hero. That just happened to be his job. What she longed for, what her heart ached for, was the laughter they shared, the compassion in his touch and the love in his eyes.

At least she thought she'd seen love in his gaze just before the paramedics had whisked him away. Maybe it had been something else, but she had to know for sure.

Oh, Father, I'm head over heels in love with Nate. You brought us together. You must have! And now I miss him so much. And I confess that I'm worried that he…that he…what? Doesn't love me at all? Was only feigning compassion at the rest stop? Thinks I've given up on him?

The sudden realization stole her breath, and she gasped loudly.

Mr. Mortimer stopped in the middle of the question he was asking. She hadn't heard a word of it, but he looked closely at her, a wrinkle marring his otherwise taut features.

“Ms. James, is everything all right?” asked the judge.

“Your honor, may we have a twenty-minute recess for my witness to collect herself?” the U.S. attorney asked. “These memories are quite trying.”

The judge nodded slightly. “Twenty minutes.”

Danielle barely heard the announcement, but she followed suit as the courtroom seemed to rise as one and all shuffled toward the door.
God, what if he doesn't know how I still feel? I have to tell him. Give me courage to tell him. I don't need independence. I don't need anything except You and him. Help me find him. Help me tell him. Please.

Running across the slick floor as fast as her high heels and snug skirt would allow, she almost slid past her father but caught his arm just in time.

“Daddy, I love you.”

“Are you all right?” he asked, wiping away a tear that splashed down her face.

“I am. I just…I just wanted you to know that I love you.”

“I love you, too.” His kind, dear face looked confused, and he squeezed her hands gently. “Are you sure everything's okay?”

She nodded. “It will be, but I need to talk to someone. To Nate.”

“It's about time.” Now it was her turn to be confused, and she must have looked it. “It's written all over your face every time you talk about him. You love him?”

She nodded. “With all my heart.”

“Then go find him.” He checked his watch. “You have eighteen minutes.”

She smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek before racing toward the hallway.

 

Nate had been arguing with himself for more than half an hour. He knew he should go back into the courtroom, but he was a coward of the worst kind. He was afraid to
face the woman he'd rejected—the woman he'd told he could never be the one. But he just didn't think he could survive listening to her recount their relationship event by event in cold, clinical terms.

If he heard her speak like that, he just might become convinced that she didn't remember that time with as much affection as he did.

And he wasn't sure that wouldn't send him right back to the hospital.

The sling strap around his neck itched, and he jumped up from the bench that he'd been occupying. He marched the length of the seat—all three feet of it—then spun and paced back. Running his good hand through his hair, he resisted the urge to pull it out by its roots. The arm that had been struck by the bullet ached badly, but it didn't even hold a candle to his heart.

How had he let Danielle just disappear that day at the rest stop? Why had he thought it would be for the best?

For that matter, why had he ever thought that not being with Danielle would be better than spending a lifetime with her?

He just wanted to protect her, to be by her side for the rest of their lives, but he'd been scared. So afraid of doing the same things his father and grandfather had done.

But he'd come to an understanding recently. As he watched all of his years of experience and training amount to nothing when he didn't figure out who Ivey was until it was far too late, he realized that he was human, prone to failure and not always in total control of the world around him.

God, I'm so glad that You are in control, and it doesn't have to be me. Thank You for rescuing Danielle and me.

God's strength and perfect timing had worked together
to protect him and Danielle at his own weakest point, when his effort to protect them hadn't been enough. And why couldn't he count on that same strength to provide for him and protect his future marriage from the sins that had plagued the generations before him?

He knew the answer to that, too.

He could trust it.

His feet stopped pacing, and he let himself fall back onto the wooden bench along the wall of the wide courthouse hallway. Men and women in business suits passed at brisk speeds, their hurried lives suddenly seeming far off as a sense of peace filled his chest.

Then his heart stopped.

Danielle stood before him, all beauty and class in her tailored outfit, her newly blond hair pulled back and eyes shining.

“I was hoping you'd be here.” Her words were soft, but all other noise faded away as he stood, closing the gap between them.

“I'm sorry I didn't stay—in the courtroom, I mean.” His words jumbled, and he clamped his lips closed to keep from saying more than he wanted to.

Her golden eyes roved his face, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up like they had since the first time they met. Her gaze dropped to the sling around his neck, and she reached out and gently touched his forearm.

Concern made her voice husky. “Did you see a doctor?”

“Yes. She said that I'm fine now. I'm just not supposed to use it until the stitches come out. Something about how I might play too rough.” He dismissed the idea with a shake of the head, but she nodded.

“Good idea.”

They both laughed, and it broke the tension and uncertainty.

“I hear congratulations are in order. Your investigation has apparently brought down Goodwill's entire syndicate.”

She'd been asking about him. She had to have been to hear that. It hadn't hit the media yet, and it certainly hadn't been announced that he was the one spearheading the entire investigation into the crime ring.

“Thank you. Goodwill's case is pretty much open and close, even if he hired the most expensive lawyers in the state. Between your testimony and your dad's and all of his men turning state's evidence and making plea bargains, Goodwill is going away for a long time.” A flicker of emotion crossed his face. “And his cartel is crumbling around him. You and your dad are safe now. There's nothing for you to be afraid of.”

She opened her mouth like she was going to speak, but snapped it shut. Her eyes lost their glow as she let out a slow breath between tight lips. Turning her head away from him, she watched the masses hurrying down the hall.

Danielle might not have had anything to fear, but Nate knew that he was dealing with a brand-new fear. The thought of spending the rest of his life without her was terrifying. And this moment was as good as any to tell her.

He tried to speak the words, tried to tell her how much he loved her, but the ache in the pit of his stomach that had always been associated with the idea of marriage didn't let go that easily. He swallowed and pushed it aside, trying again.

She beat him to it. “Listen, I only have five minutes before I have to be back on the witness stand, but I just
have to tell you… I mean…” She looked frustrated with herself for not being able to finish the words.

There was no time to waste, so he sent up a quick prayer for courage and filled in for her, “I miss you.”

She sighed and leaned in a little closer to him nodding. “Me, too.”

“And I love you.”

Tears filled her eyes, but her voice was clear. “Me, too.”

Putting his arm around her back and pulling her closer until there were only inches between them, he whispered, “And I want to spend the rest of my life with you—even if you don't drink coffee.”

She quirked an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Instead she leaned in closer and pressed her lips to his. Her arms wound around his neck, and she held him so tightly that he wasn't sure if it was her hold or her kiss that made him struggle to catch his breath.

She was soft and pliant as he pulled her even closer, savoring the taste of her berry lip gloss and relishing the knowledge that they'd have a lifetime of this.

“Ms. James?” called a male voice. They both turned without breaking their hold to see who was calling her. “Ms. James, they're about to begin,” said the bailiff.

“I'll be right there.” Then she turned back to Nate, a twinkle in her eye just for him as she locked her fingers with his and tugged him toward the room. “I guess I have to get this over with.”

He held the large door open for her, and as she stepped past him, she leaned in for another quick kiss on his cheek. For his ears only, she said, “After I finish my testimony, I'd like to introduce you to my dad.”