No Chance in Hell (10 page)

“My wife,” Marcus said, standing directly behind Chris. “Lynne.”

“She’s lovely. So is your home.”

“This room is exactly as she left it.”

The pain radiating off him because his friend’s life was in danger now doubled as he spoke of his wife. “Is Diablo all settled?”

“Yeah.” Marcus wasted no time leading her out of the house and hurrying to the car.
 

He’d washed up and slipped on a tan button-down shirt. She’d thought him handsome that first day at Lost and Found, wearing his crisp white shirt and dark slacks. Then he’d floored her by showing up in Levi’s, boots, and an Army green T-shirt. But tonight, her mouth had gone dry as she’d washed the blood from his hands while his bare chest, gigantic shoulders, and bulging biceps had been all she could see. He truly was a work of art, as perfect as if chiseled by one of the great masters.
 

She kept pace with him, understanding his sense of urgency. Silence between them had returned. Marcus broke speed records getting to the hospital. He maneuvered the parking lot and snagged a spot close to the emergency room entrance.
 

They hurried inside. Marcus’s imposing presence drew the attention of the nurse behind the counter.

“A police detective was brought in earlier. Wayne Kerns?”

“He’s in surgery. If you’ll wait here for just a moment.” She walked to the in-house phone and spoke softly with someone. She turned back to them. “His wife and partner are in the waiting room. You’re expected.”
 

“Thanks. I know the way.” Marcus looked down at Chris. His dark eyes were hard to read. “His wife? This just keeps getting worse.”
 

“You didn’t know Wayne was married?” Chris put her hand on his back, hoping to make both of them feel better. Marcus seemed to have mastered the art of not showing his feelings, but tonight the rigid frown between his eyes said differently.
 

“No.” The lines drew tighter. “The subject never came up.”

“Marcus, there was probably no reason for you to ask.”

“You’re right. We never got that personal.” He took her hand in his, turned it over, and stroked her knuckles with his thumb. “Let’s go see if there’s some way we can help.”

His innocent act of holding her hand sent a wave of tenderness straight to her heart. His wife’s death had caused him to withdraw, but somewhere under that cold persona Marcus used as a shield, a gentle giant hid from the world.
 

They caught the elevator, and he punched in a floor number. He really did know his way around this hospital. Was it because his wife had been a patient here? The wife he couldn’t let go?

The doors swished open, and he led her to the right. A soft sob came from the room at the end of the hall. Chris’s heart fell. Please, she prayed, don’t let it be Wayne’s wife who’s crying. Don’t let him have died.

****

Two uniformed officers stood outside the waiting room. A couple more were standing in the hall. One nodded as Marcus and Chris approached. “You Marcus Ricci?”

“Yes.”

“You’re cleared.”

“Thanks.” Marcus had never been in this situation, but he wasn’t surprised that the police force would close ranks around one of their own. Like the military, they were a close-knit group, brothers for life.

He stopped in the doorway. His gut boiled and clenched. Tomas held a woman in his arms while she sobbed into his shoulder. The slight movement of his head told the story. Wayne was dead.
 

Marcus felt Chris’s weight lean into him. “Please, no,” she whispered. “This can’t be happening.”

He wrapped his arm around her and backed her away from the door. He tucked his thumb under her chin, lifted her head, and stroked her cheek with his thumb. The pain in her blue eyes ripped right through him. “I promise you, I’ll find the bastard who did this.”

“Don’t you see? You can’t be around me. Nate, Kay, none of you. You will be killed because you’re trying to help me. Go pay your respects.”

“I’m not going in without you. Nate and Kay will be here soon, as will half the police department. Let’s do this together.” He held out his hands, waiting while Chris struggled with her decision.

She stared at his open palms for a few seconds.

“You’re right. I have to speak with Mrs. Kerns.” Chris straightened her shoulders and wound her fingers through his.

Again, she’d amazed him. Truth was, he’d known only one woman with that kind of strength. No doubt, Lynne and Chris would’ve been friends if they’d ever met.
 

They sat next to Tomas and waited until Wayne’s wife was ready for introductions. In spite of her red and tear-swollen eyes, Alice Kerns was a pretty woman. She wore tan slacks and a yellow blouse. Her hair was strawberry blond. Her genes mixed with Wayne’s must have produced carrot-topped kids. She and Wayne had probably made a striking couple.
 

Words of sympathy meant as much to the people giving them as to the one who received them. Would Alice Kerns remember anything that was said tonight or even the next few days? Marcus doubted it. But it was important that he and Chris offer their condolences.

The Army had flown him home after Lynne had been killed. During a long, lonely flight, he’d rehashed their last phone conversation, which had ended on a sour note. Still angry because he’d re-enlisted, she’d accused him of caring more for his men than for her. Those words had been spoken in anger. A few comforting and loving expressions from him would’ve gone a long way. Oh, hell no, he’d clammed up and hadn’t told her that she was the most important thing in the world to him.
 

The next day it had been too late to tell her anything. A drunk had T-boned her car, hitting the driver’s side door so hard the steering wheel had bent almost in half.
 

Lynne’s funeral had been a blur. He remembered little of what happened that day. He’d crawled so deep into his misery, he’d refused the comfort that his friends and her family had tried to share.
 

“Marcus?” Chris’s voice pulled him back to the present. She tugged her hand out of his grip and wiggled her fingers.

“Sorry. Did I squeeze too hard?”

“No worries.” She leaned closer to him. “Wayne’s department captain and the rest of his family will be here soon. Are you ready to go?” Her whispered words brushed across his cheek.

“Yeah. Let’s give Mrs. Kerns some privacy.” Had he fooled her? Or could she tell his mind had wandered?

After they excused themselves, Tomas walked them to the elevator. Marcus had no idea how long Wayne and Tomas had been partners. Having spent some time with them, Marcus had witnessed a camaraderie that said they were also friends.

“I tried to stop the bleeding—”
 

“Don’t do that,” Tomas insisted. “The doctor said nothing could have saved him. The bullet nicked an artery. Wayne was bleeding inside. He died on the operating table.”

“You’ll let us know if there’s anything we can do?” Chris stepped into the elevator and held the door open.

“Will do.” Tomas turned to Marcus. “I’ll have a courier drop off at your office everything I’d pulled on Chelsea Holland. If this is your guy, he’s royally fucked up. He killed one of our own. Every cop in three counties will be looking for him. You understand I won’t be available for off-duty work. All my time will be devoted to catching the bastard who shot Wayne.”

“Of course,” Marcus assured him. “If we learn anything that might help you, I’ll call.”

He watched Tomas walk away as the doors closed and the elevator started its descent. Marcus replayed Chris’s last statement in his mind. She’d said if “we” can help, let “us” know. She’d referred to them as a team or couple. A cold spot buried deep inside his chest warmed.

After he drove away from the hospital, she reached across the seat and squeezed his shoulder. Then she leaned her head back and stared out the window for most of the drive.
 

Marcus drove down the off-ramp, made a quick turn into a busy shopping center parking area. He took the exit at the far end of the lot and took a tour through a high-end neighborhood. Then he got back on the freeway. Traffic was heavy in this area of Plano, and he intended to ensure no one was tailing them.
 

Finally, she turned in her seat toward him. “Where are you going?”

“You need some rest. Tomorrow, we’ll go to the office and start piecing your sister’s life together.”

“Marcus—”
 

“Nothing you say will make me walk away from you. I’m in. Period.”

“I know that. I’ve known that from the beginning. You’re a man of honor, and you’ll protect me at all costs. That wasn’t what I was going to say.”

Crap. He’d jumped to conclusions. “Sorry. I won’t interrupt again. Go ahead.”

“Where are we going?”

“My house.”

“Do you know where we’re spending the night?”

“Of course. I’ll grab a change of clothes, get your bag and my dog, and we’ll go straight to the safe house.”
 

“Good. Then we’ll do a quick in and out. I don’t think you’re ready to have another woman in your house.” She pulled her hand back. “Not even a business associate.”

Marcus was speechless. He hadn’t allowed anyone inside until Chris had gone in tonight. The living room was all he had left of Lynne. At first, he’d been upset to find Chris looking at his private memories, but then he’d realized it hadn’t bothered him at all.
 

He’d spoken about Lynne with both Ty and Ana. Assured them that he’d moved on. It had been a lie at the time, told to encourage Ty to let go of the past. Marcus had tried to go down that path with a couple of women at different times. The relationships had failed as soon as they wanted more from him.

Chris’s touch had been soft and warm. She intrigued him, kept him on his toes, and man, did she smell good. But she seemed determined to keep everyone at bay. In the long run, that attitude would work out better for them both.
 

Once he was comfortable no one had followed them, he took the next exit, turned around, and drove to his neighborhood. A few blocks away from home the night sky was blazing. Red and orange flames shot into the air.
 

He pressed the gas pedal to the floor. His brain screamed as he turned the corner onto his block. Where was Diablo? Was he smart enough to go to the backyard? Fire trucks and patrol cars dotted the street. His home was burning. He’d lost everything once before. He would not lose his dog. If somebody had set this fire intentionally, he’d tear the motherfucker apart with his bare hands.
 

“Chris, you’ll have to come with me. I can’t leave you alone.”

“Go. I’ll be right behind you.”

As soon as the car came to a stop, they both were out and running toward the fire trucks.
 

“That’s my house,” he said to the firefighter who tried to stop him. “Chris, stay with this guy. Don’t move.”

A dog barked insanely, as if he were about to rip someone’s throat out. To Marcus it was the sweetest sound in the world. It meant Diablo was alive. Marcus ran toward the back of the house.

“My dog!” he yelled. Without thinking, he stepped in front of the cop who’d taken aim at Diablo. “Don’t shoot him. He’s scared.”

In a wild frenzy, the dog charged and snapped his powerful teeth every time the two firefighters tried to open the gate.

“Down, Diablo,” Marcus commanded loudly. The dog went down but stood again, growling.
 

“We have to get in there,” one of the firefighters said. “The wind is blowing the fire toward the houses behind yours.”

“I’ll get him under control.” Marcus opened the gate, walked inside, and then fell to his knees. He gave the hand signal to come and then dropped both hands to his sides.

“Come, Diablo. It’s okay.” He used the most soothing tone he could in spite of the fear racing through him. “Come.”

The frightened animal crawled on his belly into Marcus’s arms. Seeing no burns, Marcus picked him up and held Diablo’s trembling body against his chest. A knot the size of a football had wedged in the back of Marcus’s throat. “It’s okay, boy. I’ve got you.”

“Take that dog, get to safety.” The cop holstered his gun.

“We’re going.” He carried his dog out of the yard, and the same cop escorted him out.

Heat from the blaze streaked across his face as he crossed to the car. The dog squirmed and tried to bury his head under Marcus’s arm. He could feel Diablo’s heart racing.
 

Now if Chris was all right.
 

Chapter 8

“I’ve never been so scared.” Without thinking, Chris cupped Marcus’s cheek. The stubble felt good against her hand. The pain behind his eyes ripped at her heart.

“We’re okay.” Marcus’s voice was understandably shaky. His house had burned, and he’d almost lost his dog. No doubt, the things he’d kept to remind him of his wife were lost to him. Gone forever.
 

“Poor thing, he’s had a rough time today.”