Dangerous (24 page)

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Authors: Diana Palmer

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Suspense, #Romance, #Mystery fiction, #Contemporary, #United States - Officials and employees, #Murder, #Homicide investigation - Texas, #Homicide investigation, #Romantic suspense fiction, #Western, #Texas

BOOK: Dangerous
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“He’s very much like your father,” Gail said. “He has the same strength and he’s just as reserved, but you always know you can depend on him.”

“Yes,” Winnie said, and she smiled.

“Clark’s a great gamer,” Matt told her. “He’s been showing me new ways to use grenades! It’ll be great training for when I grow up and join a rolling SWAT team,” he added with twinkling dark eyes.

Gail groaned. “No! You are not joining a SWAT team, and I don’t care how fast you are in that thing!” she indicated the wheelchair.

“That’s just jealousy,” Matt told his sister. “She tried to get into SWAT, but they said she was too old.”

“Too old!” Gail burst out. “Can you imagine?”

“Delicately aged wine requires careful handling,” Kilraven said smoothly, repeating one of his favorite adages.

Gail looked at him. “You drunk?” she asked sharply.

He glowered. “I was trying to make you feel better.”

“Good idea. Go find the so-and-so who put me in the hospital and lock him up for twenty years, that will make me feel better!”

“Sorry, we have another priority right now. Winnie and I are flying down to Nassau tomorrow.”

Gail’s eyes narrowed. She turned to Matt. “How about taking a dollar and getting me a soft drink at the canteen?” she asked him.

“Sure! You want a Coke?”

She nodded. She started to reach in her drawer, but Kilraven was quicker. He handed Matt a dollar bill. “Don’t use it to impress girls,” he teased.

“Some impression this would make,” Matt scoffed. “These days, it takes a Jaguar.” He pursed his lips. “You’re my brother-in-law. How about loaning me the Jag in four years when I start dating?”

“Get out of here,” Kilraven said in mock anger.

Matt chuckled all the way out the door.

Kilraven moved closer to the bed, all teasing gone out of him. “The senator’s wife is on her way to her beach house. It sides on property the Sinclairs own,” he said. “Winnie’s going with me so that we can get to know her, in hopes that she might feel confident enough to share some information about her brother-in-law.”

“You got married to pump a suspect’s relative?” Gail exclaimed.

Kilraven glared at her. “I’m not ruining Winnie’s reputation by having her live with me for several days while we court the senator’s wife.”

Gail smiled. “You’re not a bad guy, Kilraven.”

“Yes, he is,” Winnie mused, but her eyes twinkled.

Kilraven gave her a wink, laughing when she flushed.

“Well, both of you be careful,” Gail cautioned. “These people play for keeps.”

“You’re good with hunches,” Kilraven said. “What do you think? Are we following a cold trail, or could the senator’s brother have a stake in this case?”

Gail was silent for a minute. “I don’t really know. I think the senator’s up to his ears in parts of it,” she said. “I want to talk to the mother of that young girl who was found dead.”

He was somber. He’d thought about questioning the teen who lived, but never about asking the mother of the girl who was found dead. “You think she might know something more than she told the police at the time it happened?”

“Could be. She supposedly went on a date and turned up dead in a condition where her own family wouldn’t have recognized her, just like our DB on the Little Carmichael River. Her car was even found next to a river. It just seems too close to be a coincidence.”

“I agree. But it would be a long shot.”

“I’m famous for long shots.”

“You won’t get out of here for several days,” Kilraven said.

“Not unless I can K.O. the doctor.” Gail sighed.

“When we get back, maybe we’ll have some new information to work with. Meanwhile, I’ve got a buddy watching out for you, just in case your assailant comes calling again.”

“I’m a cop,” she pointed out.

“Yes, and your department’s budget is less than my annual video game allowance,” he said sarcastically, “so I don’t imagine they’re lining up for overtime to trail you.”

She grimaced.

“My buddy is between jobs and he loves catching crooks. You won’t see him or know who he is, but he’ll be around.”

“Thanks, Kilraven,” she said.

“You’re my temporary mother-in-law.” He chuckled. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Don’t turn your back, even in Nassau,” Gail cautioned them. “The senator’s wife may accept you being there on face value, but I’m betting her husband wouldn’t. One thing I did find out before I was shot—there’s an old family retainer, Jay Copper. He’s very protective of Senator Sanders. There’s been gossip that he’s really the senator’s father. He was in prison for several years for a messy homicide, got out on a technicality. Anyway, he was charged at least once with intimidating a reporter who was digging into that statutory rape case. Threatened to have his family blown up with a shotgun.”

Kilraven’s intake of breath was audible.

“Yes, I thought that might sound familiar.” Gail nodded, her eyes cold. “Copper doesn’t like Hank Sanders or the senator’s wife, Patricia. One of my contacts said that the main reason Patricia stays out of the senator’s way is because she’s afraid of Copper.”

Kilraven’s eyes narrowed. “I heard something about that old guy. They called him copperhead, back in the seventies, when he was supposedly involved in drug trafficking in Dallas.”

“That’s the one. He’s still on the job, intimidating everybody he can to keep the senator nice and safe.”

“What about Hank Sanders?”

She pursed her lips. “Now isn’t that an interesting question. I went to see Garon Grier down at the Bureau a few days before I was shot, and guess who was waiting for him in the parking lot, trying not to be seen?”

Kilraven’s heart jumped. “Hank Sanders.”

She nodded. “Why is a notorious criminal keeping company with one of the more notorious conservative FBI agents?”

“There’s another curious fact. Hank was a decorated navy SEAL.”

She pursed her lips. “That turns us in a whole other direction. And I have a theory.”

“So do I,” Kilraven replied. “But we’ll keep that between us until Winnie and I get back from the Bahamas. Maybe we can find out more.”

“Even if Jay Copper didn’t go with Patricia Sanders to the Bahamas, ten to one he’s got one of his goons there keeping an eye on her,” Gail added. “Word was that she was trying to divorce the senator, until Copper mentioned that it would hurt the senator in the polls and he wouldn’t like her to try it. She backed off at once.”

His eyes narrowed. “I get the idea.”

“Be careful,” she told him firmly.

“I’m always careful.” He smiled as he glanced at Winnie. “And don’t worry. I’ll take care of your daughter.”

Winnie smiled, but she wished he’d said “my wife” instead of Gail’s daughter. Still, it was early days yet. She had time to make an impression. He was quite obviously hungry for her. And where there was smoke, there was fire.

13

They got off the plane in Nassau with the rest of the business-class section and even though it was winter back in the United States, it was perpetual summer in the Bahamas. They looked out the window of the terminal as they came onto the concourse. People were walking around in shorts.

“Why did I wear a coat?” Winnie groaned.

“Because you were cold?” Kilraven mused. “Come on. Let’s get in the line for customs.”

“It will be slow. It always is.”

“Are we in a race?” he asked.

She hit him.

T
HEY LOOKED LIKE A
society couple. Winnie was wearing a trim, very expensive cream-colored couture pantsuit with designer high heels and purse. Kilraven was wearing silk slacks and shirt and an expensive jacket. He made a point of telling the customs official that he and Winnie were newlyweds on their honeymoon. They walked out of the terminal past a steel drum band, unconsciously moving to the rhythm of the music.

A limousine that Kilraven had hired when he made the reservations was waiting for them. It whisked them along the winding road that led from the airport, past Cable Beach, to the road that led to the exclusive section of New Providence where so many millionaires had summer homes.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked, looking out the tinted window. “The first time we came here, I must have been about four years old. I saw the white sand and all the incredible shades of aqua and turquoise of the water and asked my parents if it was a painting.”

“I know what you mean,” he said. “Those colors look too vivid to be real.”

“Have you been here before?” she asked.

He laughed. “I’ve been through here,” he replied. “I’ve seen airports and hotels all over the world, but my experience with open country has been mostly in the dark.”

She understood the reference at once. “You never talk about it, do you?”

“Wouldn’t dare,” he replied. “Most of it is classified.” He pursed his lips and smiled at her. “I trust you, but you’d need a government clearance to know particulars.”

She made a face. “I tell you everything,” she countered.

His eyebrows arched. “You do?”

“I told you about my mother and my father,” she pointed out.

His eyes grew sad. “And I told you about my daughter. I’ve never spoken of her to anyone outside my family, except people directly involved in the case.”

“I’m sorry you lost her in such a way.”

He averted his gaze to the scenery passing the windows, tall casuarina pines and royal palms lining the narrow paved road. “So am I.”

She pressed a wrinkle out of the soft fabric of her slacks. “Haven’t you ever thought about having another child?”

“No,” he said at once, and with ice dripping from the tones.

The violence of the reply disconcerted her. She met his eyes and almost flinched at what she saw in them.

“I won’t go through it again,” he assured her.

“But just because you lost one child in such a horrible way…!”

He held up a hand. “I won’t discuss it, either,” he said coldly. His silvery eyes were glittering like metal. “I appreciate your help, I really do. But if you have any illusions about why we’re here, let me disenchant you. We’re here to ask questions and get answers, not spend a few torrid nights in each other’s arms. I could walk away after and never look back. You couldn’t. You’re too young and too innocent for a casual affair. So we’ll do what we came here to do, go back to the States and get a quiet annulment. And there won’t be any complications. Least of all a pregnancy. Period.”

She felt as if he’d stuck a pin in her. He was intimidating like that. She was used to him being amused or teasing around her. He’d never been really harsh, except that one time when she messed up at dispatch and nearly got him killed. This was the real man behind the banter, and he was scary. No wonder Gail had said he was dangerous.

He realized that he was upsetting her and he forced himself to calm down. She was a normal, loving woman who wanted a home and family. Her feelings for him were getting in the way of her common sense, and that was only infatuation. She’d get over it. She was, as he’d already said, very young. Twenty-two to his thirty-two.

“Sorry,” she said, and managed a smile.

“No, I’m sorry,” he replied quietly. “I forget your age sometimes.” He forced a smile. “You’ll find a man who wants to settle down and have a family with you, one day. But it won’t be me. You know that already.”

She nodded. She wasn’t really agreeing, but it seemed safer to appear to acquiesce. At least he wasn’t looking at her with that icy glare anymore.

“Now there’s a dangerous method of travel,” she said to divert him, pointing to mopeds zipping past in the other direction.

He chuckled. “I had to appropriate one of those in another country for emergency transport once,” he confessed. “Rounded a curve and went right over the handlebars.” He shook his head. “That’s how I ended up with a steel pin in my leg. It’s a lot harder than it looks.”

“And you drive a Jaguar?” she chided.

He frowned. “Jags are built to be stable on the road at extremely high speeds. Mopeds aren’t.”

“Well, my brother thinks Jags can fly. He’s never been able to convince state troopers that he should be allowed to fly them on the interstate.”

He chuckled. “Me, either.”

“I wish we were going downtown. I’d love to see the old British Colonial hotel,” she mused.

“The what?”

“Oh, that’s not what they call it now,” she said. “It’s the Hilton Hotel these days. It’s right downtown, next to the wharf. It was the site of old Fort Nassau and the scene of many battles in the seventeeth century. It was also the place to be seen socially at the turn of the twentieth century. The Duke and Duchess of Windsor even attended parties there when he was governor of the Bahamas during the Second World War.” She smiled. “There’s a statue of the pirate Woodes Rogers right out in front of the hotel. Ironically, he was the first governor of the Bahamas.”

“Just as Henry Morgan, the pirate, was the first governor of Jamaica,” he chuckled. “His grave was lost in the late seventeeth century during a devastating earthquake that sent most of Port Royal to the bottom of the ocean.”

She shivered. “Yes, there was an earthquake in Portugal in 1755 that sent a stone quay into the sea, killing people who’d rushed there for refuge. They estimated that over 20,000 people perished in Lisbon in a matter of minutes, from the earthquake and the tsunamis that followed it.”

He stared at her. “You follow earthquake history.”

She laughed self-consciously. “Well, yes,” she confessed. “I practically live on the United States Geological Survey site.”

“So do I,” he exclaimed.

“Really!”

“Really. There and the Weather Channel and at www.spaceweather.com,” he added. “I follow sunspots and meteor showers and…”

“…and near earth asteroids on Spaceweather,” she laughed. “Yes. Me, too.”

His eyes were twinkling. “You have a telescope.”

“How did you know that?” she asked, startled.

“A lucky guess. I have one, too. You didn’t see it because it’s in my bedroom. It’s a composite, a…”

“Schmidt-Cassegrain,” she guessed, smiling sheepishly when he laughed. “How big is the aperture?”

“Eight inches.”

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