Return to Mystic Lake (16 page)

As Jackson thought of Roger Black, he nodded his head. “They definitely have some problems.” He frowned thoughtfully. “But nothing that went down here tonight had anything to do with the case of Amberly and Cole Caldwell’s disappearance.”

Maggie moved closer to his side. “At the moment I just want to celebrate the fact that we’re both still alive and your father is probably going back to prison for a very long time.”

“He’ll be facing attempted murder charges, kidnapping and conspiracy—yeah, he won’t see the light of day for years to come,” Jackson replied.

At that moment a flurry of cars pulled up. Jackson and Maggie were separated as the area swarmed with law enforcement officials. Maggie found herself in the backseat of her director’s car.

Daniel Forbes questioned her about not just the events of the night but also what she had known about Jackson’s father. She confessed that she’d known nothing about Jerrod Revannnaugh until the moment he’d shown up on her doorstep.

Jerrod had been taken away under armed guard to a hospital to have his wound tended to, then he would be taken to a federal holding cell in Kansas City.

Director Forbes questioned her for a long time, their talk interrupted several times by phone calls he had to take. By the time they were finished, he offered to take her home. Seeing Jackson nowhere in the sea of men and women in the area, she agreed.

When she arrived home, Jackson wasn’t there. She went inside, set the security and locked the door and then stumbled to the sofa and collapsed, trying to process everything that had happened, everything that she had learned over the course of the long, tension-filled evening.

It was no wonder Jackson hadn’t wanted to talk about his father with her, and it was no wonder that at sixteen Jackson had left his father behind and began to build a different life, a righteous life, for himself.

Thank God Adam had arrived in time to save Jackson the trauma of having to kill...or be killed...by his father. She stood as she heard the sound of a key in the lock, and then Jackson came in. He punched in the code on the keypad, then locked the door behind him and opened his arms to her.

She ran to him, needing to be held, needing to be close to him as the aftermath of the night washed over her. He wrapped her tight in his arms and there were no words necessary as they simply held each other.

She didn’t know how long they stood in the embrace, but finally he broke it and led her back to the sofa where they sat side by side.

“I should have told you,” he said, his gaze focused on the coffee table. “I should have warned you, but I had no idea that he was plotting against me or that he’d been released from prison.”

He finally looked at her, his eyes dark pools of misery. “He was a con man, the kind of man who might have scammed your mother out of any money she possessed. He had married at least six times, and each time he divorced he was wealthier and the woman was destitute. Knowing your history, I never wanted you to know that I got my charm from him. I wasn’t sure you’d really believe that that’s all I got from him.”

“Jackson.” She took one of his big hands in hers. “You can’t possibly be like your father. If you’re a con man you’re a very bad one. I don’t have any money.” She smiled at him teasingly. “That means you’ve wasted all your charm working it on me.”

He gave her a faint smile and pulled his hand from hers. “I’ve been called back to Baton Rouge.”

She looked at him in surprise. “When?”

“I’m on a ten o’clock flight tomorrow.”

“But we haven’t solved the crime. We still have people missing,” she protested.

“I think the powers that be have decided that the two cases might possibly be linked. The Kansas City FBI will continue to follow up here, but I’m heading home tomorrow.”

And now the heartache begins, she thought as pain pierced through her. Tomorrow she would no longer have him in her life. Tomorrow he would be back in Baton Rouge, charming the ladies, and in no time at all he’d forget all about her.

“I hate to see you go,” she said softly.

“Then come with me.” He grabbed her hands and pulled her closer to him. “I’m sure you’re due some time off. If I was to guess, you haven’t taken a real vacation since you started the job. Come with me, Maggie. Let me show you my city, let me show you how much I love you.”

She stared at his face, expecting to see a teasing twinkle in his eyes, an indication that he was joking, but there was only love and want in the depths of his eyes.

“I love you, Maggie. I love you like I’ve never loved anyone else in my life. I want to give to you, to make you happy. Come visit and let’s see where this all goes. You can get a transfer and we can buy a big place with a carriage-house apartment for your mother.”

Marjorie pulled her hands from his. Wasn’t this what she’d wanted? For him to love her as much as she loved him? And yet it all seemed too fast. Her head was spinning. Things were going far too fast.

“Jackson, I...I don’t know what to say.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “I’d say that says it all,” he replied as shutters fell over his eyes. He stood. “I’d better get packed up. I’ll need to be at the airport by eight-thirty or so. You want to drive me or should I arrange for a cab?”

“Of course I’ll drive you,” she said.

“Then I’ll see you in the morning.” He turned and went into his bedroom and closed the door behind him.

She remained seated on the sofa, a million words unsaid, a thousand regrets already forming. But it was crazy to believe that they could build a life together. They weren’t meant to be, they’d never been meant to be anything more than partners.

She wasn’t his Maggie, she was Marjorie Clinton, a Kansas City FBI agent who was good at her job and didn’t take chances in her personal life.

* * *

T
HE
RIDE
TO
THE
AIRPORT
the next morning was silent and awkward. Jackson knew Maggie loved him. She’d told him how she felt about him, that he’d managed to get deep into her heart, and yet not so deep that she wanted to take it any further.

It was a bitch, that the first woman Jackson had fallen in love with apparently wasn’t as deeply in love with him. First love, first heartbreak. He hadn’t expected either of them. But then, he hadn’t expected Maggie.

When they reached Terminal A, she circled around to the drop-off area and halted the car. She got out of the driver’s seat as he got out and retrieved his duffel bag from the backseat.

She joined him on the curb. She was dressed in a yellow blouse, which enhanced the beauty of her red-gold hair, and the pair of black jeans he’d bought when they’d been at the hotel. She was an ache inside him.

“Then I guess this is goodbye,” she said. “You have your ticket and your boarding pass?”

“I have everything I need,” he replied.
Except you.
“Goodbye, Maggie.” Before he could stop his impulse, he dropped the duffel to the ground, pulled her into his arms and kissed her with all the love, all the emotion that was in his heart, in his soul.

When he released her, he didn’t look at her again. He grabbed his duffel and went through the doors that would take him into the terminal.

He found his gate and passed through security easily, then sank down on one of the padded chairs to wait the hour and a half for his flight.

Maybe he’d pushed too hard. There was no question in his mind that Maggie loved him. And now there were no more secrets between them. She knew about his father and had judged him as his own man, not for his father’s sins.

Maybe he should have told his director he needed a little downtime, hung around here and allowed their love to grow a bit more before encouraging her to leave everything behind and come with him to Baton Rouge.

He knew Maggie. He knew the kind of woman she was, and he’d been wrong to press her so aggressively. Maybe the best thing to do was to cancel his ticket home and pursue the woman who was the love of his life.

He stood from his seat at the same time Maggie came running toward him. He stared at her in surprise. “I have a ticket,” she said. “I’m going with you.” She laughed in carefree abandon. “I don’t have any clothes, I don’t even have a toothbrush, but I’m not letting you leave without me.”

Still stunned, he fell back into his chair. “I was just about to go cancel my ticket,” he said. “I didn’t want to leave you. What changed your mind?”

She sank down into the chair next to his. “The whole time I was locked up in that shed waiting to find out if your father was going to kill me, I had a thousand regrets, and one of those regrets was that I hadn’t taken more chances in my personal life.”

She reached for his hand. “I’m taking a chance now, Jackson. I’m taking a chance on you...on us. I love you and I want to see if we can make this work. I need a man who brings me laughter, whose kisses make me weak in the knees. I need a charmer who flirts with his eyes and has a smile that melts my heart.”

“And that would be me,” he said.

He stood and pulled her up and into his arms. As he kissed her once again, she knew in the very core of her being that they were meant to be together, that somehow, someway, this magic between them was going to last a lifetime. Primal energy, that was what Natalie Redwing had called it, but in truth it was simply love.

Epilogue

Amberly Caldwell woke to small fingers stroking the long length of her dark hair.

“Macy, stop bothering Amberly.” Daniella’s voice came from nearby.

“I just wish sometimes that I had long pretty black hair,” Macy’s childish voice said.

Amberly turned over on the small bunk where she’d slept and faced the little blond-haired girl, who was on a bunk next to her. Iron bars separated the two beds. She smiled at Macy. “There were lots of times when I was little that I wished I had pretty blond curls just like yours.”

She reached through the bars and gave Macy’s slender shoulder a gentle squeeze and tried not to think of her son, Max.

Cole was already awake and out of his top bunk. He and Sam Connelly stood at the back end of the prisonlike cells they were each held in, talking through the bars in low whispers.

Each cell was identical, with bunk beds built into the steel, a stall shower and prisonlike stool and a curtain that could be pulled around the bathroom area for a bit of privacy.

She and Cole occupied one cell, and Daniella, Sam and little Macy occupied the one next to them. None of them knew where they were or why they had been taken from their homes and brought here.

Sam and Daniella had lost track of the time they’d been held captive, and although Amberly knew it had been a couple of weeks since she and Cole had been brought here from his home, she didn’t know specifically how many days it had been.

All she knew for certain was they were in trouble. Twice a day a man clad in black and wearing a ski mask brought them trays of food, but he’d never spoken to any of them.

The men had finally stopped asking questions. “A waste of breath,” Sam had said. “He’ll tell us what’s going on when he’s ready, but he obviously isn’t going to be goaded into speaking before then.”

The men had already searched the cells for any weakness, they’d tried to figure out escape plans, but none appeared to be viable. The only way in and out of the cells was through the locked doors, and since their arrival the doors had never been unlocked.

The food trays were slid through a slot without the need for their captor to open the doors. The only thing she knew about the man who held them was that his eyes were the coldest ice-blue that she’d ever seen.

They had speculated on why they had been kidnapped, why they were being held, but nobody had come up with any viable answers.

The only small sense of relief she had was the fact that none of them had seen his face, none of them had heard his voice. There was no way any of them could identify him, and as long as that remained true, they had a chance for surviving whatever plot was in progress.

But Amberly knew that the minute he came without his ski mask on and they saw his face, none of them would leave this place, wherever it was, alive.

* * * * *

Don’t miss the continuation of Carla’s series,
coming to you later in 2014
from Harlequin Intrigue!

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Chapter One

Join the navy. See the world.

“I don’t think they meant the sandboxes I’ve been playing in.” John Sloane had met and helped a lot of great people around the world. He’d been to several cool cities, nice ports and seen a lot of water. But he never wanted to see most of the places his unit had been deployed again—even in the news.

Back in Texas. Right back where he’d started wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind when he was eighteen. But right now he didn’t care about choices or destinations. He just wanted information on his dad.

He’d returned from a training exercise and was told that his father had suffered a major stroke. When he couldn’t reach the house or his dad, he’d called the police station with no luck. They’d refused to help.

From the message, he knew that his father was alive and at the ranch. He’d arranged extended leave and a ticket back to his hometown. Taking as much time off as he wanted wasn’t a problem. He had a lot stored up. He wanted to be here as long as needed to get his father back on his feet. The only objective so far was to get home.

Two hours in triple-digit heat with the rental’s AC whacked-out had added to his building frustration. He was sailing blind with no information, since his brother hadn’t returned his calls and the home phone seemed to be out of order.

If John was being honest—no sense lying to himself—he hadn’t been the most dependable brother. Or the most communicative. Since they’d learned to open their mouths, Brian had been the twin to tell the world what they needed. Brian had been the responsible one keeping him out of trouble, right up to his last words to him, “Leave and never look back.”

That was exactly what he’d done.

John had followed through on his promise, joined the navy, left the ranch and had never come back.

In the navy, he wasn’t Brian’s twin or Johnny Junior or the baby. He’d quickly risen to chief petty officer and was the man you went to with a problem. He was the guy who got things done. Action, not words.

Then things changed. Promotions after online classes and a college degree. Instead of solving the problems, he followed orders. Now a lieutenant, he was the man responsible if someone got shot. A man who’d been doing too much thinking recently.

Texas? California? Navy? Private sector? Which road should just simple
John
choose? Too much thinking.... Right now he would help his dad, work the horses and maybe—just maybe—reconnect with his brother. That was the mission.

Deciding his future could wait.

His hometown was just ahead, and suddenly he didn’t feel so confident. Since that short good riddance right after graduation, he hadn’t seen or spoken to Brian. John hadn’t seen his father in almost three years. How would the town see him now? Who would he be after twelve years? The man he’d become, or the kid the town remembered?

Aubrey looked like a busy small town instead of the bus-stop intersection with one red light he’d left. Lots of changes, and yet the most familiar thing in the world to him. He knew what stool old man Searcy would be sitting on for his lunch at the café, and he knew who would be serving him his blue-plate special. His stomach growled, emphasizing his lack of lunch. Another ten minutes and he’d be home.

Home.

The word felt good. He’d stay, help his dad around the ranch, work with his back instead of a weapon. He’d welcome every minute of mind-numbing grunt labor. And somehow he’d figure out what to do with the rest of his life.

He raised a finger off the steering wheel, acknowledging those driving past. A friendly custom in north Texas, like tipping your hat. Or at least it used to be. People stared at him and quickly looked away when he caught their eye. He drove through his little town, now full of fast-food restaurants and an outdoor mini shopping mall. He turned off the main road, took the familiar turns and passed the mailbox—faded with one of the letters missing from his father’s name.

Parked on the side of the driveway was a cherry-red Camaro. A car he knew inside and out. The car had always hummed perfection. Mark Miller had won many drag races with that engine. When Mark had left for the army, John had tried to buy it from Mr. Miller many times. He slowed as the driver—obviously waiting on him—opened the door of the car he’d wanted throughout his teenage years. His tires crunched on the gravel as he pulled to a stop.

“Wow.” The word slipped from his brain to his mouth.

“You still haven’t gotten over this car?” the woman said, caressing the hood with long strokes.

Thankfully, she thought he was gawking at the muscle car. The vehicle was a nice backdrop to the curvy medium-height babe with long wavy dark brown hair and eyes hidden behind aviator shades. Dressed in old worn jeans that hugged her hips and a tank top that hugged everything else, he couldn’t focus on the car if he wanted to.

And he really didn’t want to. If he had air-conditioning, he would have cranked it to high. Instead, the sweat beaded on his forehead. He grabbed the button-up shirt he’d tossed on the seat next to him to wipe his face.

“Driving with the windows down? Braving the Texas heat, Johnny? You forget how hot it gets here in July?” the babe asked, crossing the road in worn boots. She slid her glasses to the top of her head, tucking her hair back in the process. Bright smiling eyes laughed at him.

“Alicia?” He recognized her voice, but none of the curves she currently sported.

“Welcome home.” She leaned on the open window, giving him a great view straight between her breasts. A much better view than he’d ever seen in high school.

“How did you know I’d be here?”

“I was already at the house. Wanda thought she saw Brian in a new car and sent a text asking if he’d come into some cash.” She shrugged her bare, tanned shoulders. “I knew Brian was in the barn. So I assumed and waited.” She stepped back, pulling the door open. “Get out here so I can give you a proper welcome home. It’s been a while.”

Alicia Miller, now Adams. Or had she gone back to Miller after her husband had died? Either way, he barely recognized his high school sweetheart. She’d definitely filled out in all the right places. He popped the seat-belt release and stood, towering over her in a white undershirt that probably smelled as bad as the horse stalls. She wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed. He hugged her back.

Home.

They separated, and the pearly-white smile he expected was gone. He missed her hand swinging upward, until it connected with his cheek. Connected hard. He rubbed it, not ashamed to let her know the slap had stung. Caught off guard by a girl. Or maybe he deserved it. Time enough to contemplate later.

A fitting welcome home.

“Before you ask, that was for your dad. J.W. will never say or do anything to make you feel ashamed, but you deserve that and more for just leaving. It broke his heart.”

The little fireball choked on the last word. But she was right. And he was grown enough now to admit he’d made a mistake by not calling more often. “You’ve seen him? Is he okay?”

“He gets stronger every day. I’m his nurse and help him with physical therapy. That’s what I do, at-home nursing.”

“Just for the record, that’s the one and only time you’ll slap me and get away with it.” He leaned against the rear door, crossing his arms to keep them in check. He didn’t know if he wanted to drive away or reach out and pull her back to fill the emptiness he suddenly experienced.

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m not even sure why I did that. I never do that. And now I’m just babbling.”

“Really?” Had it been too long to tease her? She’d been a junior in college the last time he’d heard anything. Their lives had changed when he hadn’t chosen that route. Really changed when Brian had taken the blame for the accident. They hadn’t spoken since his twin had accused him of being irresponsible and leaving a campfire burning.

After boot camp, his dad said Brian had decided not to attend college. Brian’s taking public blame for the fire meant John could achieve his dream of entering the navy. It wouldn’t have happened otherwise, and he owed his brother his entire career.

Join the navy. See the world.

It had been his dream, and his brother had pushed him toward it, sacrificing everything to let him keep it.
That
was the problem. The closest people to him had believed the accusation.

“I should be...” She gestured toward her car. “Your father’s waiting.”

“You said Brian was in the barn?”

“He was earlier.” Alicia stuck her hands into her front pockets, creating a shrug whether she wanted one or not. “Sorry I slapped you, Johnny.”

“I’m sorry you needed to.” He rubbed his cheek again, scraping the three days of growth.

Alicia took a step toward him, awkwardly pulled him down for what he thought was another hug. He didn’t reach for her. Instead, supersoft fingers caressed him from the bottom of his ears down both lines of his jaws. The sting disappeared faster than a radar blip.

Before he could react, she’d kissed his lips, lingering just a second too long for it to be just a friendly welcome home. Then she waved and returned to her car.

“See you around.”

The dust from the road stuck to his arms and face as he stood there like an idiot while she drove away.

“Wow.”

The Double Bar had been around for over a hundred years, supplying its fair share of cutting horses and rodeo stock. Oak trees had towered over the winding gravel driveway, since just after the Civil War. They’d formed a canopy and should have been a sight for his weary eyes. It was normally one of the coolest places on the ranch. The trees stretching above his head looked gnarly. Had anyone trimmed them since he’d left? He had to slow to avoid the potholes. The pasture looked more like West Texas desert than grazing potential for a herd.

“What the hell’s happened?”

Granddad’s old Dodge truck was loaded with feed and supplies. No doubt his work would start this afternoon, no waiting around. The ranch never let you take a vacation. John parked the rental, dropped the tailgate of the truck and slapped a bag.

Wham. Slammed to the ground, he spit dirt from his mouth. A punch to his kidney caused him to tighten his gut and pull his arms tight against his sides. The attacker shuffled off and away. John scrambled to his knees and popped up to both feet.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up now!”

“Brian? What the...” He wiped the dirt from his face just in time to block a punch. His hands automatically formed fists. He resisted throwing his right at the last minute, but his shoulder momentum took him a step closer to his brother. “Cut it out or find yourself on the ground.”

“Yeah, who’s going to put me there? Oh, right, the son who’s been gone twelve years. Think you can take me with all your fancy military training?”

John couldn’t start his return home by teaching Brian a lesson. He relaxed his body enough to appear nonthreatening, but didn’t lose eye contact. Brian would always give his punches away by dropping his gaze to the ground before he swung. Better to avoid being hit than make things worse by hitting back.

“Come on, man, I just got here,” he said. Home for fifteen minutes and already he’d been slapped and eaten a face full of dirt. His lower back didn’t feel all that great, either.

“That’s the point. Dad’s stroke was over a week ago.”

“No excuses. I was on a mission and got here as soon as I could. How is he?”

“Busy saving strangers and can’t be bothered at home.” Brian grabbed a fifty-pound bag of feed, throwing it to his shoulder like a bulky pillow, then stomped toward the shed. “Go see for yourself. Alicia usually leaves him in front of the television.”

Guess it wasn’t the right time to remind his brother he’d called a couple of dozen times in the past two days. John rubbed his side, then his jaw, and dusted some of the dirt from his body.
What a welcome.

“Dad?” He pushed the screen door open with the hesitation of entering the unknown. He didn’t know what to expect. Light on his feet, soundlessly moving through the kitchen and sitting room, he was afraid of what he’d find in front of the loud television.

A severe stroke ten days ago when he’d been working horses. That’s all John knew. He’d left messages on his dad’s cell, but no one had called back. His dad kept him up-to-date. Sad, but he didn’t know his brother’s number.

Bad communication skills were nothing new before he’d left for the navy. More bad habits had formed when he’d been in training and not allowed to call. Then long missions with no communication. Different time zones. Easy after that to avoid calling home by just being too busy—or pretending to be. His father had accepted the excuses. His brother had told him never to look back and meant it.

He was a different man. They both were. They had time to fix what was wrong. Later.

Right now it was about his dad—who was asleep in a wheelchair in a room that no longer resembled his mother’s favorite in the house. Full of a hospital bed, pulleys, a portable toilet and other medical stuff, everything familiar had been removed. There was a flat-screen TV hanging on the wall.

He heard the water running in the kitchen behind him and jerked around, surprised Brian had entered without making a sound.

“Dad, wake up.” Brian shoved a shoulder into John as he passed. His angry twin turned a gentle hand to touch their dad’s shoulder and not startle him awake. “John’s home.”

He understood the pain. His brother had a right to be upset, from the serious look of things. He’d been here taking care of the ranch and their dad. Alone.

The last time they’d been face-to-face, they were skinny kids eating their dad out of a ton of groceries. Identical twins who could have passed for each other—and had fooled more than a teacher or two. Not to mention the girls. There were differences now. The most obvious was their hair. His was the navy regulation, high and tight over his ears. Brian’s was longish, touching his collar.

John knew the tense jaw-clenching muscle all too well. Strange seeing what it looked like to others. Their bodies were toned from different types of exercises—his PT and Brian’s ranch work. Weird that they still looked so much alike.