Crash Into Me (48 page)

His
body tensed. “I love you, too.”

She
lifted her head, staring up at him in teary-eyed wonder. “Are you saying that
because you thought I was going to die?”

He
smiled. “No. What about you? Do you mean it this time?”

“Yes,”
she said, sniffling. “But I meant it last time.”

Blinking
away his own emotions, he cupped his hand behind her neck and brought her head
back to his chest. “I know,” he said, holding her there, cherished and safe,
sheltered in the strength of his arms.

Sonny opened her eyes, aware of a man’s
presence in the small room. Grant’s face wavered into focus, concern etched on
his features.

“I
didn’t mean to wake you.”

Sonny
glanced at the clock beside the hospital bed. Several hours had gone by since
they’d returned to the mainland. In the minutes following JT’s death, local and
federal investigation units had converged on the scene. The Coast Guard’s
rescue helicopter had been deemed unnecessary, but James was rushed to Scripps
Hospital in a snazzy-looking Harbor Police powerboat. Carly insisting on
accompanying him, so Ben had gone with her, casting Sonny an apologetic glance
over his shoulder.

Stephen
had wanted to go, too, but because he’d been the one to pull the trigger, he
hadn’t been allowed to leave the scene of the crime.

Sonny
had debriefed Staff Sergeant Paula DeGrassi, explaining that Stephen had been
acting in self-defense and giving her sworn statement. After speaking with
Grant via satellite phone, Sonny had excused herself politely, taken a few
steps away from the crowd of officers aboard
Destiny,
and collapsed in
an untidy heap on the deck.

Apparently,
she’d needed more than air. Ac cording to the nice doctors at Scripps, she had
two fractured ribs and suffered some internal bruising. She’d been poked and
prodded, her midsection wrapped up tight as a drum. One of those pokes must
have included a dose of pain medication, because sometime between then and now,
she’d closed her eyes, and Grant had arrived from Virginia.

“Sorry,”
she murmured, wincing at the pull in her sore ribs as she straightened.

“For
what? Getting hurt?”

She
nodded, although she’d been apologizing for falling asleep, as ridiculous as
that seemed. “It’s nothing,” she said, minimizing her injury. “You didn’t have
to come back.”

Hurt
registered on his face. “What kind of boss would I be if I didn’t care about
the welfare of my agents?”

Tears
filled her eyes, because the relationship between them went deeper than
employer–employee. He was the closest thing to a father she’d ever had, and
they both knew it. “Sorry,” she said again, this time for getting sentimental.

He
cleared his throat, not unaffected by the exchange. “Homicide found a pile of
evidence in JT’s locker on Shelter Island. Photos of the victims, personal
items, electrical cord…”

Sonny
nodded. She hadn’t doubted JT’s guilt for an instant.

“It’s
better than a signed confession,” he said gruffly. “Good work.”

Coming
from a tight-lipped taskmaster like Grant, it was fine praise indeed. She
fairly glowed with pride.

“About
your review…”

The
warm fuzzies left as quickly as they’d come.

“I’m
thinking we’ll postpone it for now,” he continued, surprising her. “You haven’t
taken any leave time in a while, and with your injuries, I recommend you do so.
Six months down the road, or a year, when this whole thing blows over…”

She
frowned at him. “You’re not turning me in to Internal Affairs?”

His
expression was deliberately blank. “For what?”

“And
Mitchell?” she asked, caution warring with giddiness. “Will he talk?”

“Leave
Special Agent Mitchell to me,” Grant replied, eyes narrow.

Gratitude
washed over her. “Thank you,” she said, reaching out to grab the front of his
shirt. Ignoring the pain in her side, she pulled him close for an impulsive
hug. “Thank you so much.”

While
he tolerated her embrace, only a little less stiffly than he had before, she
noticed the outline of another figure standing in the hall.

Grant
lifted his head, following her gaze.

Instead
of coming in, Ben hesitated outside the doorway, a gift-store bouquet of
flowers in one hand and a wary expression on his handsome face.

As
Grant straightened, he looked back and forth between them, understanding and
acceptance in his intelligent gray eyes. Sometimes he knew her better than she
knew herself. “You aren’t going to be working with me much longer, are you?”

Tears
welled up again. “No,” she whispered.

If
he was disappointed, he didn’t show it. Maybe this was what he’d hoped for her
all along. To love herself, and someone else, enough to want to live past the
age of thirty. “DeGrassi’s looking for an FBI liaison to San Diego Homicide.”

She
swallowed. “You would approve of the transfer?”

He
nodded slowly. When she leaned forward to hug him again, he held up a hand.
“Please. Your young man already wants to rip me to shreds.”

Laughter
bubbled from her throat. She was so happy, her ribs didn’t even hurt. With one
last good-bye and a respectful nod at Ben, Grant was gone.

“Can
I come in?” Ben asked.

Sonny
leaned back against the pillows. “Of course,” she said, making a murmur of
thanks when he set the bouquet on the nightstand. “How’s James?”

“Fine,”
he said with a snort. “Eating pudding.”

“And
Carly?”

“Won’t
leave his side.”

She
smiled at his affronted tone. After Carly’s near-death experience, Ben probably
wanted to hold his daughter close, but Carly was more interested in making eyes
at James.
Her
knight in shining armor. “What about Stephen? Is he still
here?”

“Yes,”
Ben said, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “He’s in the lobby,
shivering. They offered him a sedative but he wouldn’t take it. I think he’s
detoxing.”

Sonny
wondered how long her half-brother’s sobriety would last. Getting clean was a
hard row to hoe alone. “Maybe you could sponsor him.”

“You
mean, pay for rehab?”

“That
would be nice, but he might be too proud to accept your money. It wouldn’t cost
anything to take him to a few meetings.”

Ben
appeared to consider the idea, and although he didn’t make any promises, neither
did he refuse outright. “You didn’t tell me you were hurt,” he said, changing
the subject.

“Bumps
and bruises,” she claimed.

He
didn’t believe her for a second. “I’ve had broken ribs before. You won’t be
able to take care of yourself.”

“Are
you offering to nurse me back to health?” She’d been playing coy, but when he
nodded, his eyes dark with intensity, her heart swelled with love for him. “It
just so happens that I have some leave time,” she said. “I’ve been thinking I’d
like to laze about on the beach for a few weeks, admire your cutback.”

He
wasn’t fooled by her lighthearted banter. “Is that all we have? A few weeks?”

“Actually,
I—”

“Never
mind,” he interrupted. “It doesn’t matter.”

She
blinked in confusion. “It doesn’t?”

“Not
really,” he said, meeting her eyes. “After Olivia died, I’d have given anything
to have one more day, one more hour, one more
minute
with her. I don’t
want to make the same mistake with you.”

Warmth
tingled in her belly. “Are you sure?”

He
took her by the hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “Yes. I don’t like
the idea of you risking your life, but I can’t ask you to give up your job. I
couldn’t give up mine. So we’ll work around it. I’ll visit you in Virginia
whenever I can.”

“You
would do that?”

“Of
course.”

She
stared down at their entwined hands, her body humming with anxiety. Putting her
heart on the line was the scariest thing she’d ever done. “I’m going to request
a transfer.”

“You…what?”

“I’m
leaving my position at VICAP,” she clarified. “No more undercover work.”

“Why?”

Taking
a deep breath, she said, “I guess I found out some risks aren’t worth taking.
Not when I have so much to lose.”

His
brown eyes softened with understanding. With his dark hair hopelessly rumpled
and worry lines creasing his forehead, he was still the handsomest man she’d
ever seen. When her vision blurred, she blamed it on the medication. It also
must have been responsible for her clogged throat, the heavy
lub-dub
of
her heartbeat, and the swelling in her chest.

Because
neither of them was able to speak, she reached out to him, lifting her hand to
his face. He sank to his knees at her bedside, giving her easier access, and
wrapped one arm around her, very gingerly. She threaded her fingers through his
hair and brought him closer to her, grabbing handfuls of happiness and holding
it tight.

Sonny pulled into the parking lot at
Neptune Apartments, exhausted from the red-eye flight but giddy with
anticipation.

Over
the past few weeks, she’d slept too little and worked too much. Her lovely
plans to recuperate on the beach, lazing about in the warm sun and admiring
Ben’s cutback, had been thwarted by cold, hard reality. As soon as she was
cleared to fly, she’d been whisked back to Quantico. Wrapping up a serial
murder case was a meticulous, time-consuming process, and because of her
involvement with every step of the investigation, her input was essential.
Requesting a transfer to San Diego, giving notice to her landlord, and tying up
the loose ends of her old life were also tasks that required hours of
attention.

Now
that she was free, unencumbered by the past and finished with her position at
VICAP, she should feel as light as the ocean breeze that rifled through her
hair as she walked toward Windansea Beach. Instead, she was stiff-limbed and
awkward, her palms clammy and her pulse racing. Anxiety curled up in her belly
like a lead ball.

Ben
didn’t know she was coming.

It
wasn’t as though she hadn’t talked to him on the phone every night before she
went to sleep. He’d told her how Carly was doing and given her updates on her
half-brothers. James had enrolled in La Jolla Shores High School and Stephen
had been staying clean, working on the
Destiny
and attending NA
meetings.

Over
the phone, things between them had been…friendly. Heated, even. But they hadn’t
exchanged an “I love you” since that last tumultuous evening together.

The
press had had a field day covering the case, and John Thomas Carver became
America’s favorite new monster. He might have enjoyed the attention if he’d
lived. Every detail of his past was exposed, including his father’s drug
overdose and his mother’s sordid lifestyle.

Although
JT rarely spoke of his mother, he’d given Ben the impression that Cheryl Carver,
better known as Cherry, had been a B-movie actress. She was actually a porn
star who’d been strangled by her boyfriend when JT was fourteen. Perhaps her
death had been his breaking point, or maybe that time came years before, during
the incident that had precipitated JT’s transfer from his mother’s care. When
her house was raided for drugs, two uniformed officers found her ten-year-old
son unconscious, tied to a bed, naked but for lipstick smudges and candle
drippings. Apparently, a couple of Cherry’s doped-up girlfriends had made a
game of him, and after they grew bored, they left him there, used up and
forgotten.

The
history of childhood abuse, and JT’s failure to maintain healthy relationships
with women as an adult, were the only indications of his darker nature. On the
outside, he was a party boy who lived the good life. No one suspected him of
violence, including Ben. JT had hid his true self behind a very handsome, very
charming façade.

Along
with various trinkets and mementoes from his victims, JT kept a journal of the
killings. The accounts were rich in description but completely devoid of
emotion. He seemed to believe he was doing the world a favor by eliminating
“predatory females.” The only person, besides his late father, he claimed to
care about was Ben, who didn’t appreciate “the gift” JT had given him by
murdering Olivia. Darrius O’Shea and Arlen Matthews had been nothing more than
“convenient sacrifices for a greater cause.”

After
the story broke, one of O’Shea’s comrades came forward with another sad tale.
During his final tour of duty, O’Shea had been involved in a mission that had
gone terribly wrong. An innocent had been gunned down. The veteran said he’d
always wondered if O’Shea confessed to a crime he didn’t commit because he felt
so guilty about the one he did.

Sonny
wished she could have stayed in California and ridden out the aftermath of the
scandal with Ben. His face had been all over the newspapers once again. He’d
insisted on attending JT’s funeral, and the photos of him at the grave site
were on every front page.