Christmas Confidential (12 page)

A believer. That might have been the nicest compliment anyone had given her.

She dozed fitfully through the rest of the night, waking up too often from dreams about her family. The kids screaming and fighting the social workers. Sophy crying. The last words her sister had said,
What about Boo?

Every waking moment, it seemed her heart beat faster, her stomach turned queasier. How could she face Sophy again? How could she risk knowing her little sister’s life was too full for an unhappy reminder like Miri? She could put Boo in a box, along with the storybook and the motel phone number, address him and drop him at a shipping place. Everyone was doing overnight deliveries this close to Christmas. Sophy would have him on Christmas Eve, and if Miri didn’t hear from her in the next few days, she would have her answer.

But when she made the suggestion to Dean while they ate breakfast, he scowled. “Sure, if you want to take the coward’s way out.”

“I’m not a coward,” she denied even as her internal voice admitted she was. “I’m trusting you, aren’t I?”

The scowl transformed into a look of awe that quickly gave way to his usual overconfident grin. “Yeah. You are. But it’s still the cowardly way. When did you start looking for Sophy and the others?”

“The day after I buried my mother.”

“Twelve years. You planned twelve years for the day you could see Sophy again—you went to
jail
for that—and now you want to back out? You want to send a
note
telling her where the money is?”

Her gaze flickered out the restaurant window to the Charger, where Boo lay covered again in the backseat.

“You’ve earned this day, Miriam. And you’re not going alone.” He gripped her hand, resting on the tabletop. “I’ll be right there beside you. I’ll always be with you.”

The words sent a rush of warmth through her. She knew not all promises could be kept. Her father hadn’t wanted to keep his; her mother hadn’t been able to keep hers. But as long as Dean meant the words, as long as he tried, she would be all right.

“Okay?” he asked when she didn’t say anything.

She nodded.

He asked the passing waitress for the check, then said, “So where are we going?”

Her stomach knotted, but she answered anyway. “Copper Lake. East on I-20 until we see the sign.”

Within five minutes, they were on their way. She sat stiffly in her seat, holding Boo as tightly as she’d always wished she could have held Sophy, Oliver and Chloe. She stared out the window, anxious and apprehensive, trying to be positive but too used to taking the negative view.

Whichever way it went, she would be okay. Better to know than to forever wonder, right? And whatever happened, at least she would see Sophy. She would be able to put an adult face to the sweet, brown-eyed, pigtailed, blonde kid who’d followed her everywhere.

It seemed as if the trip from Dallas to Atlanta had taken weeks, but the miles to the Copper Lake exit flew past. Long before Miri was ready, a sign announced the town limits, then businesses began appearing on either side of the road.

“Where do we find her?” Dean asked quietly.

“She has a shop downtown on Oglethorpe. It’s called Hanging by a Thread.” Her voice was breathy, and as he turned onto the street running along the south side of the square, she could hardly manage to fill her lungs. Copper Lake was a small town; downtown couldn’t be more than a few square blocks. She was so close to Sophy that she might be able to scream her name and be heard.

Oglethorpe was the next street. Dean paused at the intersection, looked left, then right and said, “There it is.” He turned right and found a parking space a few yards down.

Hanging by a Thread was a quilt shop and occupied the bottom floor of an old Victorian house, with Sophy’s apartment on the second floor. It was a lovely, homey place, with a picket fence, rockers on one side of the porch and a swing on the other, along with tasteful Christmas decorations. Matching fresh-cut wreaths hung on each of the double doors, tied with elaborate red bows. It was perfect for a girl who’d lost her real home when she was six.

Please, God, let her be happy. Let Oliver and Chloe have good lives, too.

A few clicks and grumbles from the settling engine were the only sound inside the car until Dean took her hand. “Are you ready?”

“No. There’s a coffee shop over there.” She gestured back to the square, even though the thought of hot brew made her stomach flip-flop. “We could get some coffee, maybe something to eat.”

“We finished breakfast less than two hours ago.”

“Maybe we should just walk around a little. See what else is here. Or find a motel. Or—”

His kiss silenced her. It was fierce and passionate and turned her brain inside out. While she tried to recover, he got out, circled the car and opened the door, taking her hand, pulling her from the vehicle. “You can do this.
We
can do it.”

She tugged free before he could close the door and grabbed her backpack. After emptying her clothes onto the seat, she stuffed Boo inside, slung it over her shoulder, then sighed deeply.
Exhale terror. Inhale confidence.
What she actually inhaled was the fragrance of Dean’s cologne, a reminder of the man himself, and that was close enough to confidence for her.

The gate in the picket fence was propped open, and the steps creaked as they climbed them. The scent of pine tickled her nose as she reached for the knob. It was only the pressure of Dean’s hand in the small of her back that allowed her to open the door and step inside.

Fabric took up most of the space, in every color, every pattern. Finished quilts hung on the walls and on racks, while unfinished ones were draped across tables. Christmas classics performed in blues style played softly in the background, and the lone person in the store, her back to the door, sang along while she worked at a large table. Her silky blond hair was fixed in an intricate French braid and tied with a red-and-green velvet bow, and she wore a white shirt with neatly pressed pants and flats.

Sophy.
Miri’s knees went weak, and she would have turned and fled if Dean hadn’t anticipated the move and stopped her with his arm around her middle.

Though there had been no ding of a bell when they’d opened the door, the rush of fresh air or maybe the change of pressure had alerted Sophy to someone’s presence. “I’ll be right with you,” she said without looking up. “Just give me a minute to finish pinning this section.”

Dean pushed Miri along the aisle toward the work area in the center of the shop. She wanted to stop, to flee, to race to her sister, throw her arms around her and cry, but she was too stunned to do anything but follow his direction, stopping finally when a cutting table blocked her route.

“Okay, that should hold it.” Sophy turned, revealing clear brown eyes, perfect nose, delicately shaped mouth. She was beautiful, with the same sweet, happy smile Miri remembered best in her dreams.

She couldn’t speak, didn’t know what to say, how to start, whether she could say anything at all. Sophy looked curiously from her to Dean, then back again. Slowly her eyes widened, and the fabric squares she held fell soundlessly to the floor. “Ali? Oh, my God,
Ali?
”

Miri took a step and bumped the table, surprised it was there. With a quiet, “It’s okay,” Dean nudged her around it, and by the time she cleared the other side, Sophy was there, grabbing her in a breath-stealing embrace.

Something inside Miri broke, some ice, some force that had kept her going the past twenty years, and she sagged against her younger sister, tears seeping from her eyes. For the first time since she’d sat at her mother’s deathbed, she cried.

“I’ve wondered, I’ve hoped, I’ve prayed... Oh, Ali, I thought I’d never see you again!” Sophy pushed her back a little, her hands tightly gripping Miri’s, and gave her a sweeping look. “You haven’t changed except for getting taller. We still look so much alike except you’re still so gorgeous.”

They did look alike, though Sophy’s features had such sweet softness to them. Miri knew she looked harder, tougher, but that was okay. Toughness could fade.

Finally Miri found her voice, and of course, her comment was inane. “You’re all grown-up.”

“Twenty years will do that. How did you find me?”

“The internet. You and Oliver and Chloe.”
And dear old Dad.
“Have you seen...?”

Tears welling, Sophy shook her head. “I tried a few times to find them, to find you, but...” Her eyes darkened with sadness. “I did find Mom’s obituary a few years ago. I went to Asheville, to see if you were still there, or the little ones, and I visited her grave. Have you seen the kids?”

“Not yet. I wanted to see you first. I wanted to bring you—” Miri freed her hands and tugged the backpack from her shoulder. First she pulled out the storybook, rewarded with instant recognition, then she removed the bear.

Sophy’s eyes lit with delight. “Boo! Oh, my gosh, I can’t believe you kept him for me. Mom and Dad—I mean, my adoptive parents—bought me every teddy bear they could find to replace him. They couldn’t accept that he was irreplaceable.” She hugged him, then swiped at her eyes. “Oh, Ali, thank you!”

Dean came to stand beside Miri, and she glanced at him long enough to see that she was definitely going to hear
I told you so
from him a time or three. “Sophy, this is Dean Montgomery. He’s, um...”
My boyfriend? My lover? The man I love most in the world?

He offered his hand, and her sister took it. “I haven’t asked yet, but I plan to be your brother-in-law soon.”

Sophy kissed his cheek. “Welcome to the family, Dean.”

“Yeah, welcome to the family, Dean.”

The voice came from behind them, rough, mocking, sending chills through Miri. She’d heard only a few words from that voice, but she recognized it. Stiffly, she turned to face him and his buddy.

The men from the bus station.

* * *

Muscles taut, Dean moved to block both Miri and Sophy from the men’s view. He recognized the flaring of satisfaction that he was right; the run-in with them hadn’t been coincidence. Given that they were both holding guns, he would have much preferred to be wrong. The fact that his own weapon was nestled in the small of his back didn’t offer much comfort, not with the two women behind him at risk.

“What do you want?” he asked, feeling Miri’s trembling even though she wasn’t actually touching him.

“Same thing we wanted in Dallas. Her.” That was the man who’d stepped out of the shadows and clipped him on the jaw. He was average height, muscle-bound and ugly as a monkey. The other guy was still grinning, just like that night. “We’d’ve been happy to settle for just her then, but Mr. Garvin said if she led us to anyone else, especially a pretty little blonde who looks just like her, we could take you all.”

“You’d really risk life in prison for a cut of $110,000?” Dean shook his head. “You’re stupider than you look.”

The smiling guy snorted. “There’s no risk if you don’t get caught. Besides, we’re getting a hell of a lot more than that.”

Monkey Guy moved a few slow steps closer. “Let’s talk stupid, Montgomery. First, remember the other night when you told us you were carrying a .45? Give it up. Set it on that table in front of you.”

Grimly Dean pulled the pistol from its holster and, holding it by two fingers, carefully set it on the table.

The man shoved the gun into his coat pocket. “Second, you really believe Smith hired you to recover his money, don’t you? With all his millions, he don’t give a damn about what she took. He knew you’d had a thing with her. He knew you was the one she’s most likely to trust. As long as we kept her scared enough to stay with you, we could follow right where she went.” He paused. “And then clean up.”

“You put a GPS tracker on my car before she was released.” Disgust with himself tasted ugly. He’d helped them keep track of her. He’d led them here, damn it. Some P.I. he was.

Then a worse realization settled in his gut. “Smith knows who she really is.”

A soft gasp came from behind him. Miri had thought Smith was clueless about her, that he’d written her off as part of a disastrous practice family, but she’d been wrong. He hadn’t forgotten, and he had far more than money to lose. God, how could he have misjudged the bastard so completely?

Monkey Guy nodded. “He seen some pictures of her after she was locked up. Didn’t take him long to figure it out.”

Of course not. Sophy had been six years old the last time she’d seen Miri, but she’d needed only moments to recognize her.

“A man in his position, he’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.”

Twenty-four hours ago, Dean had believed the man’s hype. Now he knew Smith was a snake just like these guys. He would do anything to maintain the false image he’d created. Even order his own daughter killed. And if his second daughter and Dean had to die, too, he could live with that, as long as his precious reputation remained intact.

Monkey Guy shifted his attention to Sophy. “You got a back room to this place?”

“Y-y-yes.” She raised one trembling hand and pointed to a door half hidden by a hanging quilt.

“Go on. You two ladies first.”

Still clutching the bear, Sophy led the way. After a few steps, Miri caught up with her, wrapping her arm around her, murmuring, “I’m so sorry. I never would have come here if I’d known...” And Sophy whispering back, “It’s okay, Ali, it’s okay.”

The storeroom had originally been the old house’s kitchen. The cupboards remained, but the appliances had been removed, with large cubbies built in their spaces. It offered no weapon, no cover for the women, no island to hide behind, no back door to escape through. Whatever Dean did, he would have to take out both men quickly to minimize danger to Miri and Sophy.

Once they were all in the room, the three of them against the counter where the sink would have been, the two men just inside the door, Smiley asked, “You got any rope around here?”

Sophy’s head trembled left to right. Miri scoffed. “It’s a quilt shop, moron. She’s got needles and thread and patterns and fabric.”