Lethal Legacy: A Novel (Guardians of Justice) (31 page)

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Authors: Irene Hannon

Tags: #Fathers and daughters—Fiction, #Fathers—Crimes against—Fiction, #Law enforcement—Fiction, #FIC042060, #FIC042040, #FIC027110

BOOK: Lethal Legacy: A Novel (Guardians of Justice)
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“I’m releasing you from
that
promise. You’re dead on your feet. Just tell me three things. Did you get Carlson, what’s wrong with your foot, and what’s my prognosis?”

He gave her a skeptical once-over. “Are you certain you’re ready to deal with all that?”

“I’m a lot stronger than I look.”

“I’m finding that out.” He smiled, and some of the tension in his features eased. “Nothing on Carlson yet, but we have a BOLO alert out on him. It’s only a matter of time. My foot had a close encounter with a tree root last night. It’s just bruised. You, however, are a different story.”

She listened as he gave her a recap of her injuries, trying to take it all in. The knee was a problem, but other than that, it sounded as if time would cure everything. Phenomenal, considering how far she’d fallen.

“They want to hold off on the surgery for a few days to let the swelling in your knee go down. I think you’re stuck here until then. But after that, you should . . .” Cole pulled the phone off his belt and checked caller ID. “I need to take this, okay?”

“Sure.”

Kelly couldn’t pick up much from the monosyllabic conversation on his end, which consisted mostly of “where?” “when?” and “I agree.” But given his grim tone and the granite set of his jaw, the conversation concerned recent events.

He didn’t linger on the call. After he finished, he slipped the phone back onto his belt and shifted toward her, his features hard. “That was Mitch. A maid discovered Carlson’s body beside his car at a motel about an hour outside of St. Louis. He’d been stabbed multiple times. His wallet was gone, so it appears to have been a robbery.”

Stunned by the news, she almost missed Cole’s emphasis on the word
appears
. “You don’t think it was a robbery.”

“No. I think Rossi took care of him. He had to be furious that we managed to connect him to your father, all because Carlson wasn’t there to run interference with you when you came to the office with the tulip note—a piece of information I guarantee he ferreted out. And during our conversation with him on Wednesday, it was evident he had no idea there’d been an attempt on your life. Twisted as his ethics were, he never sanctioned punishing innocent people. That would have been a black mark against Carlson too.”

Kelly released a long, slow breath, trying to block out the burning pain in her ribs. “My guess is it will be as difficult to connect Rossi to Carlson’s death as it is to connect him to my father’s.”

“I agree. CSU technicians are at the site, but I doubt they’ll turn up anything. Most of the hired guns employed by people like Rossi are pros. Carlson was the exception—and he paid the price.”

“He was a pro in other ways, though.” She told him how he’d damaged her auto-injector, disguised himself at the coffee shop to spike her drink with peanuts, and conned her father into ingesting alcohol and drugs.

A muscle in Cole’s jaw twitched as she finished. “How did you find all that out?”

“He told me. I guess he figured he didn’t have anything to lose, given his plans for me. He seemed proud of how he’d pulled it all off.” She fought back a wave of nausea. “When I asked him why he did it, he said he needed the money.”

“Yeah, he did. We found out he was a compulsive gambler with a lot of losses to pay off. He may have been delusional too. In other words, he was a mess.”

“I can think of a less polite term to describe him.” She didn’t even try to disguise her anger or bitterness.

Cole took her hand. “I’m with you. But let’s talk about something happier, okay?” He touched her cheek, his fingers warm and gentle, and when he continued, his voice took on a husky, intimate tone. “You remember a few days ago, how I said I’d like to spend the next holiday with you, assuming we wrapped up your dad’s case?”

The tenderness in his eyes helped her switch gears. “Yes. I’m already looking forward to Christmas.”

“No need to wait that long. We deferred Thanksgiving until a week from Sunday. I’d be honored if you’d join my family for the celebration.”

Happiness welled up inside her, softening the anger in her heart and alleviating her pain better than any drug a doctor could prescribe. “If I can get there, it’s a date.”

“We’ll get you there—if you’re out of the hospital. I have two strong men I can round up to help me if necessary.” He leaned closer still, until his breath was a whisper of warmth against her cheek. “However, I think we should begin the celebration sooner.” His lips aimed for hers. “And I know just how we—”

A discreet knock sounded on the door, and he jerked back as Jake stuck his head in the room. “Any luck convincing him to go home?”

“I’m working on it.”

“Good.” Jake eyed the two of them, grinned, and retreated.

“His timing stinks.” Cole shot a disgruntled look at the closed door.

She squeezed his hand. “I know right where we left off.”

He turned back to her, and the ardent light in his eyes made her feel like it was Christmas and Thanksgiving and her birthday all rolled up into one. “Me too.”

Bending down once again, he wasted no more time on words. Instead, he claimed her lips in a kiss that was gentle, tender, careful—and far too short. Lifting her uninjured hand, she wrapped it around his neck and tugged him back for more.

He didn’t resist.

At last, with obvious reluctance, he eased back. “Just so you know, I can do a lot better than that. And I’ll prove it as soon as you’re back on your feet.”

“That’s a great incentive to get well fast.” The words came out breathless—and not because of her broken ribs.

Smiling, he brushed the tip of his index finger across her lips and straightened up. “You sure you’ll be okay by yourself if I run home long enough to shower and grab a couple hours of sleep?”

“As long as I know you’re coming back.”

“Count on it. Sooner rather than later.” Smiling, he backed toward the door, winked, and slipped out.

For a long moment, Kelly looked after him, a smile lingering on her lips.

Turning away at last, she discovered that a sunbeam had shimmied through a slat in the blinds to cast a luminescent rainbow on the white sheet. Struck by the symbolism, she touched the arc of vibrant, radiant color. For just as the storm outside had passed, so, too, had the tragedy in her life given way to a bright, new future.

The road ahead wouldn’t be easy. She knew that. Her physical injuries would take months to heal, and the emotional trauma might always be with her. But she was alive. And no matter what tomorrow held, she felt certain Cole would be by her side.

Life and love. Two great gifts.

It was, indeed, a day for thanksgiving.

Epilogue

4½ MONTHS LATER

Cole slid the suit jacket off the hanger in the backseat of his car, slipped his arms through the sleeves, and adjusted his tie. It was a little warm for formal attire, but at least the kids had a nice day for their Easter egg hunts.

A memory from a long-ago Easter surfaced, and a smile tugged at his lips as he strolled toward Kelly’s front door.Alison had barreled straight for a cache of eggs, oblivious to everything in her path—including a mud trap that had sucked her shoes off. He and Jake had ribbed her for weeks.

Still grinning, Cole pressed Kelly’s bell. Maybe he’d tell that story after church, when they all gathered for brunch at her house. And share the “shoeless wonder” nickname he and Jake had coined.

Then again, maybe not. She might decide not to feed him.

Thirty seconds ticked by, and he leaned on the bell again. He
was
ten minutes early. It was possible Kelly was finishing her hair or makeup, but since she was as punctual as she was tidy, it was more likely she’d been ready and waiting for half an hour. She was probably in her beloved garden. Which would be perfect, because he’d planned to coax her there, anyway.

After retracing his route, Cole followed the stepping-stones that led to the backyard. As he rounded the side of the house, his speculation was confirmed. She was down on one knee near the statue of St. Francis—a position that only hours of grueling physical therapy and her singular commitment had made possible—the fingers of one hand splayed on the ground for balance, the full skirt of her floral-print dress resting on the grass where it had drifted around her as she peered at the ground.

He paused, enjoying the view, until the trill of a cardinal drew her attention. Kelly lifted her head, giving Cole a brief moment to admire her flawless profile before she caught sight of him.

A radiant smile brought a glow to her face, and she started to rise. Too fast.

As she teetered, he closed the distance between them in a few long strides and took her arm.

“Thanks.” She brushed off her hands, her smile morphing into a frustrated frown. “But I should be able to do that by now without any help.”

“Hey.” He stroked away the furrows on her brow, hating Carlson anew for all the extra pain he’d put her through by slamming that rock into her knee. “You’re getting there. The doctor said you’ve made remarkable progress.”

“It’s too slow.”

“Maybe you’re too impatient.”

She made a face, then lifted one shoulder in concession. “That’s possible.”

“Probable.” When she affected a pout at his correction, he chuckled. “Happy Easter.”

Her pout dissolved into a smile. “Thank you. The same to you. And guess what? I found a present better than Easter eggs.” She gestured to the ground.

He looked down at the first tulip of the season, a double-petaled, two-toned beauty. “One of the ones your dad sent?”

“Uh-huh. Isn’t it beautiful?”

The catch in her voice tugged at his heart, and he pulled her close. Tucking her cheek against his chest, he cradled the back of her head with his hand and rested his chin on her soft hair. “Yeah, it is. Just like the woman who planted it.”

“You’re prejudiced.”

“Guilty as charged. But don’t you want the man who’s in love with you to think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world?”

She pulled back to look up at him, surprise flickering in her eyes. In the months they’d been dating, he’d never been that direct about his feelings, though he’d dropped plenty of hints and innuendos. In light of the trauma that had brought them together and all the medical issues she’d faced, it had seemed more prudent to let their relationship develop at a slower pace.

But he was tired of moving slow. He might have chided
her
for being impatient, but he was just as guilty when it came to getting started on their future together.

Taking her hand, he motioned toward a wooden bench beside a rosebush that was sprouting its first new shoots of the season. “Let’s sit for a minute and enjoy the garden, okay?”

She gave him a curious glance, then checked her watch. “Do we have time?”

“I’ll get you there before the organ strikes the first note of the opening hymn. Trust me.”

She locked gazes with him. “I do.”

The quiet conviction in her tone helped quell the flutter of nerves in his stomach as he led her to the bench.

“By the way, I had a nice chat with one of my cousins in Rochester last night.” Kelly sat, brushing her silky skirt aside to make room for him. “She invited me to visit this summer so I can meet all three of them.”

He joined her, forcing himself to switch gears—temporarily. “I’m glad you connected with them. There’s no reason not to build that relationship now, since the vendetta died with Rossi.”

The cardinal warbled again, and she lifted her face to the sky, watching as the scarlet bird took flight. When she continued, her voice was more subdued. “I think about how he died sometimes. Lying there for four days before his housekeeper found him. Wouldn’t it be sad to have no one who cared enough to call and check on you, especially on a holiday?”

“Only if you’d done nothing to deserve that kind of treatment. Rossi’s own choices brought him to that end.”

“That’s true.” Her gaze shifted to her father’s tulips.

Cole moved closer and draped one arm on the back of the bench behind her, his fingers skimming her shoulder. Time to get this conversation back on track. They’d wasted enough breath on a man who’d gotten what he’d deserved. “So now that you’ve reconnected with your cousins, have you given any more thought to reclaiming your original name?”

“Not much.” She tilted her head as she studied the tulips, her expression pensive. “I’ve been Kelly Warren my whole life. I’m glad I know the truth about my background, but I don’t see any reason to change my name.”

“I think you should.”

She swiveled toward him, clearly taken aback. “Really?”

“Yes.” Pulse accelerating, he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small velvet box. “But I think you should change it to mine.”

As she stared at the box, he flipped it open to reveal a one-carat solitaire on a gold band, every facet sparkling in the brilliant morning sun.

Her hand flew to her throat. “Wow.”

He waited—but that was all she said.

The air whooshed out of his lungs, and he swallowed. “Wow is good. But I was hoping to hear a yes.”

A tiny smile twitched at the corners of her lips as she switched her focus from the ring to him. “And I was hoping to hear a question.”

She was going to make him go the whole nine yards.

Okay, he could do that. Even if Alison claimed his verbal skills were pathetic.

He removed the ring from the box with fingers that weren’t quite steady and took her hand.

“I’m not too good at saying the right things at the right time. Plus, I tend to be too blunt—and not all that diplomatic. So I’m sorry if this isn’t flowery enough, but here goes.”

Clearing his throat, he tightened his grip on her finger. “Even though I’ve been in love with you for months, I thought we both needed time to regroup after everything that happened. But I’m tired of waiting. I want to share the rest of my life with you—sooner rather than later. You’re everything I could ever want in a woman, and I promise to love you with all my heart as long as I live. So . . . will you marry me?”

The tiny lift of her lips suddenly swelled into a megawatt smile. And even before she gave him her answer in words, he saw it in the rush of tenderness that softened her eyes and in the love shining in their depths.

“I think I’m about to change my name after all.”

“Is that a yes?”

She put her arms around his neck and leaned close. “You’re the detective. What do you think?”

Smiling, he tugged her left arm free, slid the ring on the third finger, then pulled her to her feet and into his arms—where she belonged. For always.

“I think this deserves further investigation.”

She grinned and snuggled closer. “I’ll cooperate in any way I can.”

“I’m counting on that. Because this case will take a lot of up-close-and-personal research.”

And without wasting any more words, he got down to business.

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