Texas…Now and Forever Page 12

  At the memory of those stolen hours Haley felt her womb clench in a spasm of pure sexual need. She hadn’t been with another man since that night with Luke, hadn’t felt the least desire for someone else’s touch.

  She closed her eyes, determined to level the playing field with Luke. With each quiver of her nostrils she took in the faint, lime-scented tang of his aftershave. With each brush of his thumbs along her lips she tasted herself on his skin. She heard his breathing quicken, roughen. Felt his hands slide to her nape.

  Sensation after sensation crashed through her. Her belly clenched again, lower, harder. Liquid heat poured into her veins. Two years of pent-up emotion burst through the dike. She could scarcely breathe. Part of it, she knew, was sheer relief that he’d put the past behind them and agreed to help her get Lena back. Another part—deeper, more visceral—was the want she’d carried with her for as long as she could remember. The want that had led her to take his hand that night at the Saddlebag. Hunger arced through her. Fierce. Unrelenting.

  He pulled her closer, communicating his own need in a way that drew an instinctive response. Rising up her knees, she looped her arms around his neck and brought her mouth to his.

  After the first startled instant, he got into the kiss. His mouth slanted over hers, as hard and hungry as Haley’s was warm and willing.

  She was breathless when she finally sank back on her heels. Eyes wide open now, she stared up at his face and tried to rein in her wildly galloping thoughts. Luke got his under control before she did.

  “Yep,” he said with a wry halfsmile. “You’re most definitely the woman you were two years ago. And more, Haley. One helluva lot more.”

  She had no idea how to respond to that. Thankfully she didn’t have to. The intercom buzzed at that moment, ripping through the sensual haze enveloping her. Startled, she twisted around, lost her balance and ended up in a heap on the floor beside Luke’s chair.

  The intercom buzzed again, three short, impatient jabs, before he got to it.

  “It’s Spence, Luke. Flynt’s with me. We’ve got the cash and a high-speed scanner. Open the gates.”

  Haley hadn’t stopped to consider how many hundred-dollar bills it would take to meet Del Brio’s ransom demand. Her eyes widened as Spence opened a well-worn leather case and dumped its contents onto the kitchen table.

  “There you are,” the former D.A. announced. “Twenty thousand hundred-dollar bills, banded in bundles of ten thousand dollars each.”

  “Twenty thousand bills!” Haley gasped. Four faces swung in her direction. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t do the math. Tell me what to do.”

  “Your job is to unband a bundle and fan out the bills so I can run this optical scanning wand over the serial numbers. Flynt will man the laptop and make sure the data enters correctly. Then you pass the bills to Luke and he’ll mark a corner of each with this stuff Tyler left us.”

  The “stuff” came in an unmarked, quart-size plastic container. It gave off a light, almost fruity odor when Spence unscrewed the lid and carefully filled a tubelike marker with a pinpoint sponge tip.

  “I don’t understand,” Haley said. “If we’re scanning in the serial numbers, why is it necessary to mark the bills, as well?”

  “Federal Reserve banks have the personnel and the resources to conduct periodic screens of serial numbers,” Spence explained. “They can help authorities track dispersal patterns across the country over an extended period of time. For quicker results, we’re treating the bills with a chemical that reacts instantly when exposed to the kind of fluorescent lights used in department and grocery stores.”

  The lawyer’s mouth curved in a wicked grin. “If you think that stuff smells distinctive now, you should take a whiff of it once it’s been exposed to fluorescent lighting.”

  “Del Brio may pass one or two of the bills,” Luke said with grim satisfaction. “That’s all he’ll pass. Okay, folks, let’s get to it.”

  It was slow work. Physical, too. Haley had kept in shape the past twelve months hauling heavy trays and working ten- to twelve-hour shifts, but her back soon sent out warning signals each time she bent over to fan the bills.

  Teresa Chavez came in a half hour after they got started. When she saw her kitchen table carpeted in hundred-dollar bills, her eyes bugged out. She didn’t have to be told what they were doing, though. Luke had already informed her of the ransom demand.

  “How can I help?” the housekeeper asked.

  “We’ve got a good routine going,” Luke replied, “but we’re sure working up an appetite. You could rustle us up some lunch.”

  With a start, Haley realized her breakfast of cinnamon toast and Mexican lasagna had long since worn off. With the same enthusiasm as the men she fell on the coleslaw, thick-slabbed ham sandwiches and baked beans Teresa produced. After tucking the hearty meal under their belts, they went back to work with renewed energy.

  They’d marked almost a fourth of the bundles when the phone rang. Everyone at the table froze. Their eyes cut instantly to flickering red light on the cordless house phone.

  Luke rapped out two swift commands. “Flynt, get on the extension in my office. Teresa, let it ring twice more before you answer it.”

  The rancher sprang out of his chair. The housekeeper gulped and moved toward the cordless phone.

  “Damn,” Spence muttered as the phone shrilled a second time. “We should have had Tyler rig a tracking device on your house phones.”

  “Haley and I talked about that,” Luke replied grimly. “Del Brio’s too smart to stay on the line long enough to work a trace. He proved that last night. I’ve hooked up a recorder, though. I’ll get—”

  He broke off at the third ring. Cocking his head, he listened intently as Teresa punched the talk button on the cordless phone.

  “Callaghan residence.” Her dark eyes shifted to Haley. “Yes, she’s here.”

  Sick certainty curled in Haley’s stomach. It was Frank. It could only be Frank.

  “Who may I say’s calling?”

  The reply sent red rushing into the housekeeper’s cheeks. Her lips folded into a thin line, she marched across the room and held out the phone.

  “This malhechor says he’s your fiancé.”

  Haley jammed the phone to her ear with a white-knuckled fist. “Is Lena all right? Is she there with you?”

  Frank’s chuckle floated over the line. “She’s here, babe. Right beside me.”

  “How do I know you’re not lying?”

  “What, you want me to pinch her or something to make her squeal?”

  “No!” The idea of Frank bruising her baby’s delicate skin made her frantic. “No, please! Don’t hurt her!”

  With a smothered oath, Luke reached across the table and pried the phone out of her hand. “This is Callaghan, Del Brio.”

  “Well, well. So she came to you for the money, did she?”

  “You know damned well she did or you wouldn’t have called here.”

  “Don’t get smart with me, Callaghan. I’m the one holding all the cards in this hand.” Sloughing off his false geniality like a snake shedding its skin, Del Brio switched gears. “Rumor is you’re the brat’s father. That true?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you and Haley been getting it on all this time? Were you doing her when she was wearing my ring?”

  There was more than anger behind the questions. There was an overlay of sick, twisted jealousy. Luke made a mental note of both before replying.

  “If I was, she wouldn’t have been wearing your ring. You couldn’t keep her then, and you’re sure as hell not going to have another chance at her.”

  “What, you think you’re gonna get between us, you blind, useless cripple? I don’t think so. I’ve seen the way your friends lead you around like a puppy on a leash. Haley needs a real man.”

  “Like you?”

  “Yeah, like me. She’s mine, Callaghan. You hear me? You might have slipped past me once when I wasn’t looking, but I’
m telling you now, I’m going to—”

  “You’re going to what, Del Brio?”

  As if realizing how much of himself he’d exposed, he abruptly switched topics. “You got the two million?”

  “I’ve got it, but you won’t see a penny until we have proof Lena’s alive and well.”

  “Proof? You want proof? All right, I’ll give you proof. I’ll send you one of the brat’s fingers.”

  “Cut the crap, Del Brio. You’re a businessman. You wouldn’t pay for damaged goods and neither will I. Send proof, then we’ll talk.”

  With a click of a button, Luke cut the connection.

  Absolute silence followed. Spence frowned in intense concentration. Teresa Chavez stared at her employer. Haley sat in stunned shock.

  She cleared her throat. Slowly. Painfully. Even then, all she could manage was a hoarse croak. “Damaged goods? Were you talking about Lena?”

  Luke smothered a curse. He could hear the near panic she was fighting to control. For a second or two he considered glossing over Del Brio’s threat. Just as swiftly he discarded the idea. He and Haley were in this together. A team. Besides, she’d probably insist on listening to the tape of the call.

  “Del Brio wasn’t happy when I said he wouldn’t get his money until we received proof Lena was still alive. He said he’d send one of her fingers.”

  Haley gave a small, strangled sound. Teresa’s was louder and sharper.

  “Ayyyy!” Her face contorting, the housekeeper made the sign of the cross three times in rapid succession. “That poor little baby!”

  “He was bluffing.”

  “How do you know that?” Fury broke through Haley’s incipient panic. “How can you know that?”

  “I know.”

  “That’s not good enough, damn you! If Frank harms my daughter, I’ll never forgive you.”

  “She’s my daughter, too,” Luke fired back, gripped by the savage need to hunt Del Brio down and skin him alive. “Do you think I’d deliberately goad someone into mutilating my child?”

  “How do I know what you’d do? We’ve spent exactly one night together in over a decade!”

  “Two, if you count last night.”

  “Well, I don’t! I mean, last night wasn’t— We didn’t— Oh, hell!” The air escaped from her lungs like a deflating balloon. “Do you really think Lena will be all right?”

  “Yes, I do. I also think we can expect Frank to deliver something within the next few hours. You guys get back to work while I make a quick call.”

  Luke joined Flynt in the den he’d converted to a modern, functional office. Fitted with flat workspaces and ample storage cabinets, it contained an array of computer and electronic wizardry that would have made Bill Gates drool. The gadget attached to the phone was the one that had caught Flynt’s attention.

  “What’s this small flat disc?”

  “It’s a scrambler. Ordinarily it would be buried within the instrument itself, but I’m testing a new system for some folks in Washington.”

  “I though you were finished with that business.”

  “I am, pretty much.”

  “After getting blown all to hell and back, you should damned well cut the tie completely.”

  “You never cut the tie completely.”

  Not with OP-12, anyway. Even a blind operative had his uses. Particularly one with Luke’s years of experience.

  Flynt grumbled under his breath, clearly not happy. He and Spence still hadn’t quite forgiven Luke for never once clueing them in about his years with OP-12. Tyler came closer to understanding. He’d left the marines to freelance, assuming a sort of quasi-official status with the covert military agency he worked for. Still, even Tyler had been stunned when he’d learned his playboy pal Luke Callaghan had spearheaded an ultrasecret, multinational thrust deep in the Mezcayan jungle to rescue their old commander, Colonel Phillip Westin.

  After the rescue attempt went bad and Luke lost his sight, Tyler had stepped in—but not before ripping a strip a mile wide off his friend for keeping his three buddies in the dark all these years.

  Well, those years lay behind Luke now. His only contribution to OP-12 these days was to test equipment and, when requested, to offer operational advice. He hadn’t lost his clout in the organization, though. After verification of his identity by code and by voice recognition, he was put right through to the acoustics branch.

  “I need a full analysis run on the call just received at this number,” he told the branch chief.

  “You got it,” the woman at the other end of the line replied.

  “I want it quick.”

  “How quick?” she asked warily.

  “Like yesterday.”

  The cheerful mother of three with double Ph.D.s in mechanical and audio engineering laughed. “So what else is new? I’ll get back to you within an hour.”

  The branch chief had been with OP-12 almost as long as Luke had. From past experience, he knew she was as good as her word.

  That task done, he ran a hand along the work surface until he located the recorder hooked up to the phone. Frowning, he ejected the CD Rewritable disc and hefted it in the palm of his hand. The conversation burned onto it was already etched into his mind.

  “Did you catch that bit about Haley still belonging to Del Brio?” he asked Flynt.

  “Yeah, I did. I also noticed that he still refers to himself as her fiancé.” The rancher let a couple of seconds tick by. “Are you thinking maybe ole Frank is more interested in getting his hands on Haley Mercado than on the ransom?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”

  Thirteen

  Spence agreed with Flynt and Luke’s assessment. So did Tyler when he returned from his trip to Fort Hood a half hour later and listened to the recorded call. His face thoughtful, he strolled back into the kitchen, which had become their unofficial command center, and addressed the small group.

  “Well, this certainly alters our approach. Sounds like we need to plan for a possible snatch and run, not just a recovery operation.”

  His glance drifted to Haley. She sat at the table working her bundles of hundreds, but the call from Frank had shaken her so much that she couldn’t regain the smooth rhythm she’d established previously.

  Was Luke right? Was Frank more interested in getting his hands on her than on the ransom? The possibility made her physically ill, but she’d give herself to Del Brio in a heartbeat in exchange for Lena’s safety.

  “Actually, a snatch and run makes things simpler,” Tyler mused. “I was worried Del Brio would send someone else to pick up the ransom. From the drift of that call, I’m betting he’ll insist Haley deliver the ransom to him personally.”

  “In which case,” Luke put in, his face granite-hard, “he’ll have to use the baby as enticement to make sure she shows.”

  “Exactly.” Tyler’s brown eyes locked on Haley. “You were right. Looks like you’re going to be out there on point, after all. Sure you’re up to it?”

  “I’ve been ‘out there’ for over a year,” she reminded him. “I’m up to it.”

  Admiration flickered across his tanned face. “Yeah, I guess you are.”

  Luke didn’t miss the subtle change in the tenor of the conversation. Nor the way his friends were now responding to Haley. Like him, they’d greeted the news of her return to the realm of the living with stunned disbelief, confusion and a healthy jolt of anger. Luke wasn’t the only one who’d carried a load of guilt around all these years.

  And like Luke, the three men had swiftly worked past their anger. They now understood the reason for her desperate flight. They were beginning to understand, too, the incredible courage it took for her to return to Mission Creek to go undercover as Daisy Parker.

  She had that in spades, Luke admitted silently. Courage, smarts and a sensuality that acted on him like a cattle prod every time he got within touching distance of her. He’d just about lost it earlier this afternoon in the den. One kiss, and he’d been ready to
stretch her out on the floor. Hell, just thinking about the feel of her mouth under his had him itching to tell his buddies to hit the road.

  “How did you make out up at Fort Hood?” he asked Tyler, forcing himself to concentrate on the matter at hand.

  “Like a kid in a candy shop! Man, you wouldn’t believe the toys those guys are playing with up there. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to get on the bad side of the United States military these days.”

  “I don’t think anyone else does, either,” Flynt put in. “Our guys have sure kicked ass recently.”

  “Particularly the Fourteenth Marines,” Spence added with savage satisfaction.

  For a moment the four friends shared a tight, fierce loyalty to their former unit. Only those who’d experienced combat could understand the almost indestructible bond it forged between comrades-in-arms.

  Almost indestructible. The fact that one of their group was missing still gnawed at Luke. Where the hell was Ricky? He had to know by now Frank suspected his sister was still alive. Had to guess Del Brio had kidnapped her baby to lure her out of hiding. Had he been secretly involved in the shoot-out three nights ago, when Del Brio slipped through the FBI net? Was he, too, on the run?

  Tyler broke into his troubled thoughts. “You and I should go down to the lake, buddy. We need to test this little hummer. Make sure it works as advertised.”

  “Right.” Turning toward the woman whose scent and warmth now acted like a beacon in the shadows, Luke offered what reassurance he could. “I’ll take the phone with me. If Del Brio calls, let me handle him. He knows he can use your worry for Lena to twist you into knots.”

  “Do you think we’ll hear from him soon?”

  The best he could do was a shrug. “As he said, he’s holding most of the cards right now. We’ll hear from him when he’s ready.”

  The next contact from Frank didn’t come until ten-fifteen that night.