McIver's Mission (32 page)

"Now we're going to go out to the garage,"
Warren said. "And you're going to get into your car."

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

"No, you're not going anywhere," he agreed
pleasantly. "In a few hours, when your lover comes home, he'll find you
dead. Asphyxiated. It's the preferred method of suicide by women."

"Have you researched this?"

"Meticulously," he agreed. "Every tiny
detail of this plan has been mapped out with the utmost care and
attention."

"Do you really think you'll get away with
this?"

"Yes, I will." He grabbed her by the arm,
his fingers biting into her flesh, and dragged her toward the back door. "There
will be an investigation, of course, and the conclusion will be suicide."

"No one who knows me would believe I'm
suicidal."

"No one ever thinks someone they love would kill
themselves. But then they'll look at the evidence—your stepfather's reappearance
in your life—a painful reminder of the horrific childhood you endured. Your
lingering guilt over the Hemingway incident. Your recent breakup with the
boyfriend—"

"Shaun and I didn't break up," Arden
interrupted.

"You've signed a lease on a new apartment."

She had signed a lease, and although she intended to
cancel it, she hadn't yet done so. But how could Warren know? How had he
learned the intimate details of her life? "You think you have it all
figured out."

"I've been thinking about this for four long
years," Warren admitted. "When I saw the posting for an ADA position
in
Fairweather
, it was almost too easy. Since I got
here, I've thought about several different ways to achieve the end result. I
didn't want to move this soon, it seemed like so much more fun to string you
along. But everything seems to have fallen into place right now. Especially
considering your little injury—" He gestured to the bruise on the side of
her head. "I expect I'll have to knock you unconscious, but no one will know
that the injury wasn't sustained during yesterday's altercation with your
daddy.

"If, for some reason, homicide is suspected, you
know where they'll look." He smiled smugly. "After all, most of the
women who are murdered in this country every year are killed by their partners
or former partners."

"Killing me isn't going to bring your wife
back," Arden told him, digging her heels into the ground outside the
garage.

"Nothing will do that," he agreed.
"This isn't about justice—it's about vengeance."

A sudden, sickening thought occurred to her. "Did
you kill that man—the witness?"

"I had him killed," Warren said, as if that
somehow lessened his responsibility for the death. "I don't like getting
my hands dirty unnecessarily."

"But you have no qualms about killing me?"

"None at all," he agreed.

Then he smashed her head against the stone wall of the
garage, and she slumped into unconsciousness.

* * *

Shaun
tried calling Arden as he drove toward home, to warn her about Blake, but there
was no response. Next he dialed the district attorney's office, and was advised
that Blake was out of the office. Shaun pressed the accelerator to the floor.

He tried to contact Creighton at the police station,
but had been forced to leave a frantic message on the lieutenant's voice mail.
He knew he was jumping to conclusions. It was possible he'd get home and Arden
would accuse him of overreacting … again. An old connection between Blake and
Granger was hardly reason to suspect the ADA was capable of murder. But Shaun
couldn't shake the feeling that his fears were warranted.

He recognized the BMW parked in his driveway as
Blake's. The man was either overly confident or overly stupid to think he could
just park in the driveway like an invited guest.

Shaun threw open the front door and called out for
her.

"Arden!"

There was no response.

He found the note on the kitchen table, frowned as he
scanned the contents. His heart almost stopped.

A suicide note?

Then he realized it wasn't Arden's handwriting. It was
her name on the bottom, but it wasn't her writing. He breathed a sigh of
relief. She must have written it under duress, but she was obviously still
thinking.

Good girl
, he
thought with more than a touch of pride. He knew she wouldn't let Blake take
her down without a struggle.

But where was she?

Looking through the kitchen window, he could see that
the side door of the garage was open and a light was on inside.

He didn't stop to think but ran through the back door
to the garage. He almost plowed right into Blake, who was coming out the door
as he was going in.

"Where is she, Blake?" His tone was lethal,
his hands already clenched into fists. He was prepared, even eager, to fight.
He would beat the man to a bloody pulp if he had to. He didn't think about the
fierce protectiveness of his instincts. It was human nature to protect what
belonged to you, and, whether or not Arden was ready to admit it, she belonged
to him and he to her. He wasn't going to let Blake take their future away from
them.

"You're too late," Blake said, his eyes
cool, his lips curving in a self-satisfied smile.

"No!" He couldn't believe it, he wouldn't
believe that he was too late. If Blake had already killed her, he wouldn't
still be hanging around his garage. And Shaun would know, deep in his heart,
that Arden was gone.

She was alive. She had to be.

"Don't worry," Blake said. "I'll be
more than happy to see that you join her." He took a step back and picked
up an ax from the workbench. He waved it menacingly, the smug smile still on
his face.

"You won't use that on me," Shaun said.
"You're a bully and a coward. A coward who likes to beat women."

Blake's eyes narrowed, glittered dangerously, and
Shaun was less confident that the man wouldn't use the weapon he'd grabbed hold
of. If Blake was far enough gone to want to kill Arden, there was no telling
what he would do.

"You don't know anything." Blake spat the
words at him.

"I know you used to knock your wife around,"
Shaun said. "And that's why she left you."

"She loved me," Blake said, his voice
trembling with suppressed fury.

"She left you because she was pregnant and she
didn't want her child to grow up with you for a father."

Blake howled with outrage and swung wildly with the
ax. Shaun ducked, and the lethal blade sank into the doorjamb less than a foot
from his head. Before Blake could wrench the weapon free, Shaun pivoted and
plowed his fist into his gut. As Blake doubled over, Shaun came up with his
other fist and connected with his nose. He heard the crunch of bone, felt the
spurt of blood.

Blake swore viciously, but he didn't hesitate to
return the attack.

* * *

Arden
blinked several times, tried to focus. Her head was pounding, her eyes were
burning and her stomach was churning with nausea.

It was dark and something was digging into her ribs.

She eased back into a sitting position, winced as the
pain in her head escalated, pressed a hand to her heaving stomach. She blinked
again.

She was in her car.

In the garage.

And the motor was running.

Warren must have dumped her behind the steering wheel
and put the key in the ignition.

She found the door handle and released the catch. She
had to get out of the garage. She fell out of the car, smashed her knee against
the concrete floor. The pain didn't register. She was aware of nothing but the
throbbing agony in her head. Until she heard his voice.

Shaun.

Her heart fluttered with hope. He was home. He'd come
for her.

She felt her way along the edge of the car, realized
that his voice wasn't the only one she heard. Warren was still there. She could
hear grunts and curses and the sound of fists connecting with flesh. Her eyes
finally focused on the shadowy figures engaged in battle. Shaun's head snapped
back as Warren landed a particularly harsh blow, and the force of the punch
threw him off balance. Warren took advantage of the opportunity to lunge for
the ax embedded in the doorjamb.

Arden's heart flipped over in her chest when she
realized that Warren intended to kill Shaun, too. Shaun had the advantage of
height, but Warren was stockier, and desperate. And Arden knew if she didn't do
something soon, it would be too late.

Her fingers tightened around the smooth wooden handle
of a garden shovel. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it was the best she could
do.

Warren freed the ax.

Arden raised the shovel over her head and brought it
down hard. Warren crumpled at her feet.

* * *

Lieutenant
Creighton was on the scene almost immediately, with reinforcements arriving a
few minutes later. It was at least an hour after that before Shaun and Arden
were alone again.

Shaun's knuckles were raw and swollen, his lip
bleeding. Arden wanted to throw herself into his arms, but she knew he was
stiff and sore from his altercation with Warren.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently, moving to
the sofa to sit beside him.

He tried to smile, grimaced when the action pulled
open the cut on his lip again. She grabbed a tissue and dabbed at the drop of
blood.

"I'm okay," he told her. "How about
you?"

"I've had better days," she admitted, and
folded her hands in her lap. "I'm sorry you got dragged into the middle of
this."

"I'm not."

"Your garage is a crime scene because of
me."

He shrugged. "I don't use it much, anyway."

She managed a small smile. "You're awfully cavalier
about all of this."

"The only thing that matters to me is you, Arden.
I'm just glad that this nightmare is finally over."

"It is, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is." He lifted an arm to curve
around her shoulders, pressed his lips gently against her temple. "Finally."

"I never would have suspected Warren." She
shook her head.

"I can't say I ever liked the guy, but I didn't
really think he was capable of something like this, either."

"He said he loved her. And that I took that away
from him. That's why he did this."

"That isn't love, it's obsession," Shaun
told her.

She nodded carefully so as not to amplify the
throbbing in her head. She understood the difference now, and she knew that
love was a gift, not a curse. Something to be embraced rather than feared.
Something to share.

"I was afraid … I really thought I was going to
die and…" her words faltered as she stifled a yawn. "There's
something I need to tell you."

"You should get some rest," he said.
"We can talk later."

"I don't want to wait, I was so afraid I wouldn't
ever get a chance … to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

Her heart was jumping crazily in her chest, but she
took a deep breath and braced herself to say the words she'd never spoken to
anyone before. She looked into his eyes, wanting to see his reaction when he
first heard them, wanting him to see the truth of them in her own. "That I
love you."

His eyes darkened perceptibly. "I love you, too,
Arden."

She smiled. "I know."

Then he covered her lips in a kiss that was
breathtakingly tender, agonizingly sweet, overflowing with love.

"It took me a long time to get to this point in
my life, and I'm not sure that I'd be here now if it wasn't for you. I've dealt
with the past and I'm ready to move on. With you."

"Does that mean you're going to cancel your lease
on the new apartment?"

"That depends."

She could tell her equivocal response had surprised
him. He frowned. "On what?"

"Whether or not you're willing to marry me."

He snapped his jaw shut, swallowed. "You want to
get married?"

"Only to you."

"Really?" The beginnings of a smile curved
his lips.

She shrugged. "I figured if I can handle this
love thing, maybe the rest won't be so hard."

His tentative smile widened into a grin. "The
rest? Marriage, kids, the whole deal?"

"The whole deal," she agreed. "You once
told me that nothing that happened before matters, and you were right. My past
has made me who I am, but it doesn't control me. I'm ready to move on. And from
this moment, I want to be with you."

"From this moment," he promised, and touched
his lips to hers again. "Forever."

*
* * * *