Volcano (42 page)

A tear slid down Penelope's cheek. She remembered that period too well. They'd all had an awful time adjusting to Beth's scarred beauty and blank stare. “It wasn't just you,” she answered softly, haltingly. “Beth should have made you look at her, got up in your face and told you how she felt, instead of running home to Mother. You're right, you both had too little experience at handling the downside of life.” Penelope's fingernails bit into her palms as she realized her words spoke for herself too. She and Zack had been much too young to stand up for themselves. She and Charlie weren't. The knowledge opened new vistas.

“And maybe, if she'll admit it, Beth needed to learn to stand on her own,” she added with new insight. “She's always had someone looking out for her. Maybe I hurt instead of helped in that respect.”

John rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I adored Beth from the moment I first laid eyes on her, wanted to take care of her, and didn't want to lose her. When your parents broke up, I used that as an excuse to marry before we graduated. I tried to be what she wanted, tried to support us like she expected, but I hated that law firm; I hated getting criminals out on technicalities. I was turning into a fungus like all those other toadstools in there.”

He raised his head and reached blindly for his cold cup of coffee. “But I would have done it, for Beth. After the accident, when she wouldn't even talk to me, I just kind of lost it. I had some funny idea that maybe I'd have more time for her and the kids if I quit the firm, that maybe then I could figure out how to talk to her, but it never happened.”

Penelope twisted her hands together. She'd always held John up as an example of how love failed, but love hadn't failed. Communication had, maybe, but the love was still there. Life happened, as Charlie said. Had she ever told Charlie she loved him?

Terrified that she never had, that life was so unpredictable she might never have the chance, Penelope stared longingly at the doorway through which Charlie had departed. Here was a prime example of what happened when someone didn't reveal their feelings. She could end up like John, hurt and all alone, maiming the person she loved. She didn't want that. She wanted Charlie filled with joy, as he'd been yesterday. If she could give him that joy, she'd gladly throw away her job and take her chances on the strange new future opening before her.

“Tell her you love her, John,” she said firmly. “The only thing it can hurt is your pride. Tell her you love her and that she's a wonderful mother and you want her for a wife. She has rocks for brains sometimes, but you can turn them to mush if you try.”

John was silent, and she didn't have time to turn and study his expression. Tammy appeared in the doorway, and Penelope knew instantly that something was wrong.

She rose slowly to her feet, the question she couldn't ask in her eyes. Beside her, John stood up too.

“We stopped to get Beth's things, like John asked,” Tammy whispered, fear widening her eyes as she held out the suitcase. “Someone followed us when we left. We tried to lose them, but when we got here, Raul thought he saw the other car again. He sent me up here and he's heading for the cafeteria, hoping we could distract them by splitting up. He wants to talk to Charlie. Is he here?”

“The kids,” Penelope whispered. “Charlie's with the kids.”

“Where would he take them?” John demanded.

“I don't know. The gift shop?” Penelope looked up at her brother-in-law and saw the same terror reflected in his face that she knew was on hers. “The cafeteria?”

“Stay here with Tammy,” John said brusquely, pulling out a battered notebook and handing her a sheet of paper with numbers on it. “Call these guys. They're the ones working on the case.”

They stood in a waiting room full of people, some watching them curiously, most absorbed in their own worries and grief. Surely a place like this was safe. Penelope took the paper and handed it to Tammy. “Be our communication central. I'll help John look.”

She ignored John's protests and strode for the door. “You take the gift shop, I'll take the cafeteria. If either of us finds Charlie or Raul, we'll send them up here. What about hospital security?”

“I'll take care of them. Penelope, dammit...” John hurried after her. “Stay up here where it's safe. Beth will need you.”

“I know all about this operation, John,” she informed him as they aimed for the elevators. “It takes hours. And I'll be damned if I'll let anything happen to Charlie before I tell him I love him.”

Or before anything could happen to the kids. Surely no one would harm innocent children....

As Penelope entered the cafeteria, Raul was gesticulating vociferously at Charlie. Charlie wore no expression at all, although she detected a flicker of something—worry, relief?—as she walked in. In a room full of people, he spotted her instantly. Her gaze dropped to the kids noisily slurping chocolate milk at the table beside the men, and she breathed a little easier. Maybe it was all a false alarm.

The instant she saw the man in the trench coat hovering at the back of the crowded room, she lost that hope. Charlie must have seen her fear, for he tensed and gripped Raul's arm, whispering something in his ear, but Raul didn't turn.

Penelope approached with caution. She tried to think of something intelligent to do—pretend she hadn't seen them and leave? Look for John? Scream bloody murder? But she could see only two curly heads and the man she loved. No way in this world could she walk away and leave them. Her cowardice and fear of risks disappeared.

Charlie didn't greet her as she walked up. He merely tousled DeeDee's curly head and nodded in the direction of the two uniformed policemen eating doughnuts at a corner table.

“Take the kids over there,” he said quietly, “sit down, and explain what's happening. Raul and I will take care of our Russian friend.”

She wanted to argue. Charlie could see it in Penelope's expressive face. She never trusted, never accepted without explanation. He tensed, preparing for the fight, but it didn't come.

“I love you, Charlie,” she said softly but distinctly, and then with a smile to the children, she helped them out of their seats and drew them toward the safety of the far corner of the crowded room.

Her actions screamed far louder than her words in Charlie's heart. She trusted him to do what was best. She was making him feel like a damned Superman again, but she was a sight smarter than stupid Lois Lane. A rush of love had him smiling at the comparison, but remembering the confrontation ahead, he jerked his head toward the back of the room.

“You want to go with me or go find Tammy?”

“We're in this together,” Raul replied stiffly.

They had a few issues to fight out when this was over, Charlie figured, but he couldn't think of a better man to have at his back than Raul. “I don't know if the goon back there has called in reinforcements yet. Let's take him by surprise before they arrive.”

Raul nodded, and as one, they swung around and stalked across the room in the direction of the Russian in the trench coat. Charlie calculated the man would have at least one hand-weapon on him, but he'd have some difficulty using it if his hands were otherwise occupied.

Before Trench Coat could decide whether to run or pull a gun, Charlie had one of his arms in a no-nonsense grip, and Raul had the other. Without a word, they lifted him from his feet and carried him into the relatively deserted corridor outside the cafeteria.

“Now, we're going to have a little talk,” Charlie said coldly.

The man burst into an excited, unintelligible spurt of Russian.

Charlie waited calmly until he finished, then with his spare fist around his captive's throat, pounded him against the wall. “Look for his gun, Raul.”

Raul checked the coat, located a small-caliber pistol, then, searching his suit, uncovered a Magnum in a holster. He stepped back, holding the Magnum professionally. “I've got him covered, Charlie.”

“Good.” Charlie rapped the man's head against the concrete- block wall again. “Now, we can stand here all day until you remember how to speak English, or I can just pound the memory out of you and make it faster. How would you like it?”

The stranger fought then, kicking at Charlie and twisting at his arms. Charlie kneed him in the groin and tightened his grip on his throat. Gasping in pain, the Russian collapsed against the wall.

“He's turning blue, Charlie. You might want to loosen up.”

He'd rather strangle the bastard. There wasn't a doubt in Charlie's mind that this was one of the goons who had tried to machine-gun Penelope at her office. But strangling him wouldn't help. He eased his grip enough for his captive to breathe.

“You speaking English yet, friend?” Charlie asked with as much coolness as he could muster.

“
Nyet.
I no speak. I want lawyer.”

“Charlie.”

Charlie's head jerked up. That couldn't be Penelope's voice quavering behind him. He'd left her with a damned cop.

“We got company, Charlie.”

Reacting to the wariness in Raul's tone, Charlie tightened his grip on the Russian's throat and slowly turned to face the corridor.

Jacobsen. With a gun at Penelope's back.

“It was me or the kids, Charlie,” she said apologetically, her eyes wide with fear.

“I'll let her go if you come quietly.”

Jacobsen spoke calmly, but only a desperate man would risk this kind of public confrontation. Charlie didn't trust him to do as promised. He glanced at Raul holding the Magnum, but Jacobsen used Penelope like a shield. Her height effectively blocked Jacobsen from an inexpert marksman like Raul.

Charlie had no choice. Behind Jacobsen, the police were hurriedly emptying the cafeteria full of people out the far entrance. The kids were safe.

Taking a deep breath, Charlie started to release his hold on the Russian. If he could just separate Jacobsen from Penelope...

“No, Charlie!” Penelope screamed in warning as Jacobsen trained his gun on Charlie. In the same breath, she jerked her head backward, smashing the contractor's nose, slammed her heel into his polished loafer, and, taking advantage of Jacobsen's loosened grip, threw herself sideways.

Raul fired.

Charlie nearly broke the Russian's neck as Penelope screamed and fell. He couldn't move fast enough, couldn't reach her soon enough …
      
Flinging his captive aside, he raced to catch her, hold her, reassure himself that she breathed, that her heart still pounded in tandem with his. He sucked in drafts of air as he folded onto the floor, and she reached for him.

“I think we got reinforcements, Charlie,” Raul said, standing over Jacobsen's prostrate form while holding the Magnum trained on the Russian.

With Penelope's fingers clutching his shirt, her soft sobs wrenching against his chest, Charlie glanced over her shoulder. He recognized Penelope's ex-brother-in-law and assumed the men with him were plainclothes officers. The two uniformed officers he'd left Penelope with now stood in the doorway of the cafeteria, guns drawn. From a back hall, two uniformed security guards approached. The whole damned circus had arrived.

“It would have been simpler if you'd let me get a confession first,” Charlie griped as John pushed past Raul and clapped handcuffs on Jacobsen. The man still breathed.

“But not legal. This family needs only one cop, all right?” John snapped the other cuff closed while his fellow officers handcuffed the Russian and a medic ran up to check Jacobsen's shoulder wound.

“I thought they'd banished you from the family,” Charlie commented to John as Raul handed the deadly weapons over to one of the policemen. Penelope was surreptitiously wiping her eyes, but he wasn't letting her out of his arms.

“I've decided not to stay banished,” John replied curtly. “I'm going back upstairs. The FBI has enough evidence on Jacobsen and his cohorts to keep them occupied for quite a while. They've caught the guy you tackled at the volcano. He has a few broken ribs and he's squealing like a pig. You won't have to worry about them again.”

Charlie nodded. He didn't care about Jacobsen or the FBI or anything else but the woman in his arms, love and pride glowing in her eyes. He hadn't done a damned thing, but she looked at him as if he'd hung the moon. A guy could get used to that kind of admiration. She made him feel as if he deserved a woman like her, that his job and his background and all that other superficial stuff had no relevance at all. Hell, maybe she'd even forgive him football and the GTO.

As the crowd dissipated, Charlie didn't bother to see where everyone went. He simply stood up without letting her go.

Her arms slid around him, her hair brushed his chin, and he rested his head against hers. “Say it again, Penny,” he whispered.

She didn't even hesitate. “I love you, Charlie. Will you marry me?”

He laughed. He roared out loud, causing several of the departing crowd to turn and gape. He caught her up and lifted her from her feet, dangling her above him, no mean feat since his Penelope was nearly as tall as he was. She propped her hands on his shoulders and grinned. Grinned. He'd made Hard-hearted Miss Albright smile.