FOR THE BABY'S SAKE (12 page)

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Authors: BEVERLY LONG

Tags: #ROMANCE - - SUSPENSE

BOOK: FOR THE BABY'S SAKE
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“Thankfully, most people grow out of it,” she said. “Some never do. Some can’t ever love another more than they love themselves.”

It was the opening he’d waited for. He just didn’t know if he had the courage to ask the question. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience?”

“Years of study.”

Right.
Be bold or go home.
That was what the bumper sticker said that Robert had tacked up on his computer a couple years ago. “How’s Howard feel about your leaving town with me?”

“Howard?” She looked genuinely puzzled. “How would he know?”

“He doesn’t know you’re with me? I thought that’s why he called.”

“He called about an adoption that he’s working on.”

“I figured that was just a pretense. I thought Jamison probably called him, and Fraypish decided it might be in his best interests to remind you not to forget him. I’m surprised he didn’t demand that you come home. I know if you were dating me, you wouldn’t be spending the night in a cabin with another man.”

“Dating you?”

Now she looked a little green. Clearly the idea didn’t have a lot of appeal. “Never mind,” Sawyer mumbled. He sucked at bold.

“I’m not dating Howard.”

“You two looked pretty friendly at the dance.”

“We were dancing. It’s hard to look like strangers when you’re doing that. Howard wanted to take a date. I didn’t have one. So, when he asked, I said yes. We met there. He didn’t even pick me up.”

“Hard to believe that you wouldn’t have a date.”
Lame. Lame. He was so lame.

She chuckled. “There are worse things.”

“Agreed. Still, seems like you’d have them lined up outside your door.” He kept his eyes on the road, too scared to look at her and say the words.

She didn’t say anything for a minute. He wondered if he’d offended her. He risked a quick look over.

“I almost got married a few years back,” she said so matter-of-factly that he almost missed it. A hundred pounds, like barbells falling from a rack, seemed to land square on his lungs, making it hard to breathe.

“Married?” He managed to spit the word out.

“Someone that I used to work with,” she said. “He’s a nice enough guy. We just didn’t want the same things.”

He could imagine what the guy wanted from her. What every man, including him, would want. “What did you want?”

“Marriage. I suppose children.”

She should have that. “Sounds reasonable,” he managed to say. Not for him, but then again, they weren’t talking about him.

“Have you ever been married, Sawyer?”

“No.”

“Come close?”

“Once.”

“What happened?”

He wanted to tell her. Wanted to tell her about the whole stupid mess. But then she’d know he was a failure. That he hadn’t been able to protect his son. That he hadn’t been smart enough or brave enough. And then he’d see the pity in her eyes, the same pity he’d seen in the nurses’ eyes, the doctors’ eyes, the hospital chaplain’s eyes. He couldn’t stand that.

“We were both young,” he said. “It probably wouldn’t have worked out.”

“Do you ever see her? Run into her at class reunions?”

“She’s dead.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” He meant that. He’d hated her. Hated her for what she’d done to his son. But even so, when he’d heard that she’d died of a drug overdose, just a couple years later, he’d mourned her loss. Another tragedy caused by drugs. And by the people like Mirandez who bankrolled the drugs into the country and then built a distribution system, mostly of kids, that rivaled those found at blue-chip companies.

“You must have loved her very much,” Liz said.

He knew what she was thinking. She thought he was still in love with his dead girlfriend. He really wished it was as simple as that. “Sure,” he said, choosing to let her continue down that path.

“Don’t you think she’d have wanted you to go on?”

No. She hadn’t really cared if he’d lived or died. All she’d cared about was where she was going to get her next hit of heroin. “It doesn’t matter. I know what’s best for me.”

“I guess we’d all like to think we do,” she said.

“If we don’t, who does?”

“Sometimes it’s difficult for us to see ourselves as clearly as others can see us.”

She was probably right. But he didn’t want her looking too closely at him. Otherwise, she’d see that he had a hole, a big, dark hole, all the way down to his soul. “Is that Liz or Liz the psychologist talking?”

She looked a little offended. His goading tone had done what he’d intended. “I’m not sure I can separate Liz from Liz the psychologist. It’s who I am.”

For the hundredth time, he was glad he’d managed to put on the brakes at the cabin. She deserved better. Better than some guy who was so afraid of losing what he loved that he wouldn’t love at all. He didn’t need a damn psychologist to explain it to him. “Well, I’m hot and hungry. Let’s keep going.”

Chapter Eleven

The next morning, Liz woke up with the birds. They were singing outside her window, welcoming the new day with their high-pitched tune of joy. She turned over, reached out her hand and with one finger separated the blinds. The bright sun made her squint her eyes.

Darn it. She’d overslept. They should have been on the road two hours ago. Why hadn’t Sawyer woken her up? Was it possible that he’d overslept, too? Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she grabbed a pair of shorts from her suitcase and slipped into them, stuck her feet into her sandals and left the room.

Sawyer’s bed was empty. The bathroom door stood half-open, telling her that he’d left the cabin. She made a quick trip to the small room and felt immeasurably better after having brushed her teeth and washed her face. She walked out of the cabin, saw her car and wondered where Sawyer might be.

Maybe he’d gone to the office for coffee today. Oh, she wished she had a gun. She’d love to just shock the heck out of him. He’d open the door, and maybe she’d shoot at his feet just to give him a taste of his own medicine. And then she’d kiss the heck out of him again.

As delightful as that sounded, with nothing more threatening than a nail file, Liz tossed that option. Still, the coffee sounded good. She walked across the parking lot to the office and helped herself to a large black coffee. She passed on the sweets. A few more days of pecan rolls and she’d be one big roll.

On her way back, she discovered Sawyer almost hidden behind the cabin. He was doing push-ups. She didn’t know how many he’d done before she started watching, but she saw him do thirty. Then he flipped over onto his back and started in on the sit-ups.

Her throat went dry. The man had on a pair of loose cotton shorts but no shirt. Sweat clung to his skin, and the sun glinted off his broad chest. With each sit-up, the muscles in his stomach rippled. A hundred sit-ups later, he collapsed on his back, his legs spread.

She felt a bit like a voyeur.

When Sawyer sprang up from the ground in one fluid motion, she realized she must have sighed.

“Liz?”

“Good morning,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
Or stop you.

“No problem. I needed to stretch out a bit.”

“We have spent a lot of time in a car lately.”

“Yeah.”

Okay. If he could pretend that she hadn’t been staring at him, she could, too. “I’m sorry I slept so late.”

“You must have needed it.”

“Right. Do you want to shower first or should I?”

“You go ahead. I’m going to run for a little while. Just around the parking lot. The cabin won’t be out of my sight.”

She wondered if she stood on her tiptoes if she could catch a glimpse out the bathroom window. Sawyer was being vigilant in protecting her. She was just being greedy. “Well, I’ll see you in a few minutes, then.”

He nodded.

By the time she’d showered and dressed and Sawyer had done the same, she felt almost calm. Not at all like a woman who had almost thrown herself on a sweaty, half-naked man in a hotel parking lot.

They drove into town and grabbed a quick breakfast at one of the local eateries. Back in the car, Liz spread the map across her lap. She looked at it then folded it.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I figure you know where you’re going.”

“I do. South. Then we’ll work our way back up on the other side.”

It sounded an awful lot like yesterday and the day before. A day of stops and starts and disappointments. Liz resisted the urge to pound her head against the window.

As if Sawyer had read her mind, he asked, “You up for this? We can always go back to the city.”

Giving up wasn’t an option. Being late had grave consequences. These were the lessons she’d learned. “No, let’s go. The sooner we get started, the sooner we find them.”

To his credit, Sawyer didn’t even respond. He just started driving.

By the middle of the afternoon, Liz felt horrible. She’d worn her most lightweight shirt and shorts, but still the material clung to her skin. It had to be ninety-five degrees in the shade. They’d already stopped at seven campgrounds, two parks and four small motels that crowded the river.

“Next stop is Twin Oaks Lodge,” Liz said, holding the map a couple inches off her legs. If she let it rest, it would probably stick to her.

“Yeah, that sounds right. I actually tried to get a cabin there, but they were full. Said they book up by the beginning of April for the whole summer.”

“Not a bad position to be in,” Liz said.

“It’s not all gravy. They have long, cold winters up here,” Sawyer reminded her.

“So? We have long, cold winters in Chicago.”

With that, he turned the wheel, pulling the car into the large parking lot of Twin Oaks Lodge.

As usual, he pulled off to the side, out of view of the office windows. His cell phone buzzed just as Liz opened her door. He scanned the text message.

“Is it work? Is it Mary?” Liz asked.

“It’s work, and I don’t know if it’s Mary.”

“If it’s Mary...”

“Then I’ll tell you what I can. I just have to respect the privacy and the security of the person who’s calling me. Even having you listen in on one side of the conversation could jeopardize that. I won’t do that to this person.”

“This person? I can’t even know if it’s a man or a woman?”

“No. Better for you and better for the person.”

She nodded, apparently realizing he wasn’t going to budge. There was a lot he probably should apologize for, but this wasn’t one of the things.

“Fine. I’m going to go into this office, ask my questions and pretend to look at the brochures. If I—” she paused for effect “—would happen to get us both a cold drink, will you promise not to shoot me when I come back?”

It took him a minute to realize that she was kidding, that she was in some way trying to smooth things out between the two of them. He shrugged. “It depends. Make sure it’s a diet.”

“It’s always the details that get a person into trouble, isn’t it?” Liz opened the car door and walked across the parking lot. He watched her until she got inside.

He dialed Rafael Fluentes. The man had infiltrated the organization deeper than any other undercover cop had been able to. His calls rarely meant good news.

“It’s me,” Sawyer said when Fluentes answered.

“I hear you’re working the river. How’s the fishing?”

“Nobody is biting.”

“Sucks everywhere. There’s talk of a rumble,” Fluentes said.

Damn. It was an unusual night when there wasn’t an intergang slaying. Turf battles waged fierce and frequent. Fluentes wouldn’t have called about that. This must be a big-time, bring-out-your-big-guns war call. “When?” Sawyer asked.

“Soon.”

Sawyer regretted being two hundred miles away. Robert would keep him informed, but it wasn’t the same as being there. “Hope the fish bite better there.”

“Yeah, me, too. I don’t care if the small ones slip through our nets, but I’d like to hook a few of the big ones. By the way, I’ve got a little info on the sister fish. Mirandez is the only child of Maria and Ramon Mirandez. However, Maria had a child ten years before she married Ramon. We’re not even sure Ramon knew about the kid. In any event, Mirandez has a much older half sister out there somewhere.”

Maybe that made some sense. She’d come to Mirandez’s father’s funeral. If Ramon Mirandez hadn’t known about the child, Maria Mirandez would have finally been free to have both her children with her to comfort her in her time of need.

“What’s her name?”

“Angel.”

“Angel what?”

“I don’t have a last name. Maria’s maiden name was Jones.”

“Jones?” Sawyer frowned at the phone.

“Yeah. Mirandez’s grandfather was as white as you and me.”

“Bet that’s not well-known in the hood.”

“Remind him of it when you arrest him.”

“Angel Jones,” Sawyer repeated. “Or Angel whatever. She’s probably married by now. Where’s she live?”

“Not sure. Maria Mirandez moved to one of those independent living centers a couple years ago. A real nice expensive one.”

Sawyer couldn’t help but interrupt. “Guess what’s paying for that?”

“I know. If we didn’t have the drug money, the economy would be in real danger. Anyway, we got one of her old neighbors to talk. She remembers Maria visiting a daughter who lived up north.”

“Up north?” Sawyer repeated, even more discouraged than before. “That’s it? That’s all you got?”

“Maria evidently never drove at night. She could get from her daughter’s place to home all in daylight. So, I’m guessing it’s not Alaska.”

“You’re funny.”

“Hey, I said it wasn’t much. But at least we know there’s a sister.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I’m just getting discouraged.”

“Patience is the fisherman’s friend. Try to remember that,” Fluentes said before he hung up.

Sawyer wouldn’t brag about catching Mirandez. But he would get some real pleasure out of seeing him stuffed and mounted on a plaque and hung on somebody’s wall. Not his. He didn’t want to look at the son of a bitch every day.

He’d been off the phone for three minutes before Liz came out of the office. She was carrying two big cups. She got in and handed him one. He opened the straw, poked it into the hole and took a big drink. “I like a woman who can follow directions.”

“Just tell me what to do and I can do it.”

She hadn’t meant it to be provocative. He could tell that by the sudden blush on her face. But the double meaning hadn’t been lost on either one of them. He rubbed his jaw, and his whole damn face felt hot. What a bunch of idiots they were.

“News about Mary?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Mirandez has a sister. A half sister on his mom’s side.”

“Where?”

“Nobody knows. They’ll keep digging. I’ve got a name. Angel. Might be Angel Jones. Every place we go from now on, we ask for her, too. Maybe we’ll get real lucky.”

* * *

T
WO
STOPS
LATER
, luck struck. Liz flashed the picture, told her story and waited for the standard answer. When the young man behind the desk gave her a crooked smile and said that she’d be able to find Mr. and Mrs. Giovanni at cabin number seven, she almost wept.

“My sister’s pregnant,” Liz reminded the clerk, wanting so desperately to believe but knowing she couldn’t be too optimistic.

“I know. I was surprised when her husband told me that the baby wasn’t due for another couple of months. They wanted to rent a boat yesterday, and I was nervous as heck. Thought she’d probably pop that kid out when she hit the first wave. But they docked it back in last night, safe and sound. Although I don’t think your brother-in-law knows much about fishing. Your sister had to show him how to bait a hook.”

“Yes, she’s a talent. Well, I can’t wait to see them. My car is in the parking lot. If I just keep driving on this road, will it take me past cabin seven?”

“Sure thing. And if they aren’t there, look for them out at the dock. That’s where they seem to spend most of their day. She reads books, and he throws his line in the water and spends most of the day on his cell phone. That’s not how I’d spend my vacation. But since your brother-in-law tips twice as good as anybody else, I ain’t gonna judge.”

Easy to tip when it was with dirty money.

“Well, I’m going to try to surprise them. You won’t call them or anything, will you?”

“Couldn’t if I wanted to. Cabins don’t have phones.”

“Well, okay, then. I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Sure. Just make sure your brother-in-law knows how helpful I was.”

Liz managed a smile. She walked quickly back to the car, opened the door and slammed it shut before she turned to Sawyer. “They’re here. Cabin seven. Mr. and Mrs. Giovanni.”

Sawyer’s eyes lit up, and his hands clenched the steering wheel. “Giovanni,” he repeated.

“Dark hair. Dark eyes. Guess he figured people in Wisconsin wouldn’t know the difference between Hispanic and Italian.”

“Suppose. It’s not like he could have picked Anderson or MacDougal.”

“Now what?” They hadn’t really ever talked about what would happen if they actually found them.

“We call for backup. Damn, I wish Robert were here.”

“What do I do?”

“Stay here. Once I make the call, I’m going in for a closer look. I want to get the layout of the cabin.”

“The clerk said they might be down at the lake. There’s a path that runs behind all the cabins.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“I don’t want Mary getting hurt. You need to let me get her out of there.”

“You’re not going anywhere near Mirandez. He’ll kill you. Without hesitation, without second thoughts.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” he said. “Don’t fight me on this, Liz. I’ve been straight with you all along. This is a police operation. You have to stay here. You have to stay safe.”

She didn’t intend to give up that easily. “You’d have never found her if it wasn’t for me. Why can’t I just go look around with you?”

“No. Mirandez is a crazy man. Look, Liz, I’ll do my best to make sure Mary doesn’t get hurt. You’ve got to trust me.”

She would trust him with her life. If Capable Sawyer couldn’t handle the trouble, the trouble had a destiny. But she couldn’t walk away from Mary now. Not when she was this close.

“It’s not a matter of my trusting you. Mary doesn’t trust you. She doesn’t like you. She’s not going to listen to you. She’ll do something stupid.”

He seemed to consider that. “You’ll do exactly what I tell you to do?”

“Yes.”

“You won’t call out to her or say anything until I give you the sign?”

“No.”

Sawyer shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was about to do. “All right. But don’t make me regret this.” He picked up his cell phone and dialed the number he’d evidently memorized. He gave the party on the other end a terse description of their location and the suspected location of Mirandez and Mary. He listened for a minute, responded with a terse yes and hung up.

“Who was that?”

“Miles Foltran. He’s the sheriff of Juneau County. I made contact with him before we left Chicago so that he knew we were in the area. He’ll have backup here in ten minutes.”

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