What Mattered Most (4 page)

Why did Caitlin always have to go straight for the jugular? No dancing around a subject, no time to prepare. “I know that.” Who was she kidding? Why bother to lie now? “But I’ve made the same mistake, haven’t I? He loves someone else.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, please. You didn’t hear him when he woke up.” Bile pushed in her throat as the reality of John’s reaction set in. “I’m in love with a man who loves another woman, and I’ve trapped him with a pregnancy. Oh my God.”

“It’s not the same. Your mother set out to get pregnant so she could have your father. You didn’t get pregnant on purpose—the birth control failed.”

What did that matter? Lanie laughed, repulsed by the harsh sound. “Want to hear something ironic, Cait? An hour ago, I was worried this baby wouldn’t have a father. Now I wish… God, I wish there wasn’t even going to be a baby.”

Horror tightened Caitlin’s features, the skin around her mouth pale. “Don’t say that.”

Lanie ran a hand over her burning eyes. “I won’t allow this baby to grow up like I did, with a resentful father.”

“Lanie, you don’t even know that he’s resentful. You—”

“He is.” Forgotten appointments. A crib he had yet to put together. Cases that came before childbirth classes. Another woman’s name on his lips. The defenses crumbled, and she fought back tears. “I thought he was getting used to the idea, that he loved me and would love our baby… God, how could I not have seen this?”

“Because you loved him and you didn’t want to.” With the soft whisper, Caitlin hugged her. “It’s amazing what we can hide from ourselves.”

For just a moment, she let go of the need to be invincible and clung. “What am I going to do?”

A light touch brushed over her hair. “You’re going to be strong. You’re going to be the mother you wanted to have.”

The woman standing over him looked familiar, although he was certain he’d never seen her before. Black hair, green eyes, a determined, pointed chin. Something about the curve of her mouth struck him—he knew that mouth. He swallowed, his throat dry. “Yeah?”

She held up FBI credentials. “I’m with the FBI’s Child Abduction and Serial Killer Unit. I need to ask you a few questions.”

The letters on the identification swam before his eyes, then solidified into words. Falconetti, Caitlin. He met her cynical gaze, the familiarity explained by the name. Lanie’s perfect cousin. Hell, she would turn out to be a Fed. Right now, though, he was glad to see her. Maybe that meant Beth still had a chance. “You want me to help you get into Mitchell’s head.”

“Anything you can tell me would help.”

That meant laying out the entire tangled mess—to Lanie’s cousin. Lanie would never understand. Regret rose, replacing for a swift moment his concern for Beth. He shifted, his shoulder and his ribs screaming in protest. “What I say stays in this room.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she pulled a small, leather-bound notebook from her jacket pocket. “What you say will be used to help us find your partner and her daughter. Whatever needs to be said between you and my cousin will be your responsibility later.”

He attempted to moisten dry lips with an even drier tongue. Caitlin watched him a moment then handed him a small foam cup of ice chips. “That should help. And if you have a reaction to the pain killer, they won’t make you throw up.”

She sounded as though she relished the prospect. John let an ice chip as cold as her voice melt on his tongue. She didn’t like him. That was okay—he didn’t like himself much right now, either. “Do you have any leads?”

“Not many. A gas station attendant tentatively identified Mitchell as a man who’s bought gas on several occasions over the past few weeks. An agent is reviewing the station’s security tapes.”

John cursed, dragging his hands over his face. “So he’s been here that long, watching her.”

“Probably watching all of you.” Accusations hovered in her voice. “Why did Beth lie about him, tell everyone he was dead?”

Tension tightened his jaw. “Because that’s what she wanted to believe—that he was gone and the past was behind her. She wanted to think she was safe.”

“Okay, that I get. You know what I don’t understand, O’Reilly? Did you think this guy would just go away? That he’d just forget the whole thing?”

“Why do you think I came down here? To keep her safe.”

He’d done a lousy job, too. She didn’t say it, but the implication was there in the way she arched one eyebrow at him. “What about Lanie?”

“What about her?” He wanted to call the sarcastic rejoinder back. A CASKU agent, she was probably Beth and Nicole’s best chance. Pissing her off wasn’t a good idea.

“She didn’t need to know there was a possibility this maniac would turn up?”

Uncomfortable heat rose on his neck. “Lanie was never in any danger.”

“Really? I don’t think Beth Cameron is the only one who wants to deny reality. How long did you say you’d been a detective?”

The insult clenched his jaw, and he forgot about not pissing her off. “Just ask your damn questions, Agent Falconetti.”

“Mitchell believes his wife left him for you, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah, he does. She left him because he was abusive, but it’s easier for him to blame me.”

She scratched a note on the pad, and then her gaze flickered to his face. “Were you involved?”

He shifted his gaze away. “That came later. Beth… She was scared and alone.”

“And you were her knight in shining armor.” Sarcasm clipped the words.

John bristled. “Are you always so antagonistic when questioning a witness?”

“O’Reilly, you haven’t seen antagonistic yet.” She lowered the notepad, pinning him with a stare. “I’m trying to ignore for the moment that you exposed Lanie to danger.”

“Damn it, she’s not in danger!”

“This from the guy who let down his guard enough to allow someone to take his service weapon. Mitchell left you alive for a reason—he thinks you’re to blame for the failure of his marriage. He’s been here for God knows how long, obviously surveilling you. He has to know about Lanie and your involvement with her, has to know she’s pregnant, and you don’t think she’s in danger? I figured you for a selfish jerk, but I didn’t think you were stupid. Hell, was I wrong.”

Anger battled against the fear rising in his throat. “Are you done?”

She snapped the notebook closed. “Not really, but this is getting us nowhere.”

“He won’t hurt Lanie.” He wondered if he meant to reassure her or himself.

“That’s right, he won’t. I’ll make sure of it. Martinez is going to stay with her.”

“I wouldn’t have let him near her.”

“You did a really good job of protecting Beth, too.”

“You—”

The door swung inward, and Sheriff Dennis Burnett stepped into the room, his dark hair disheveled. “Cait, we’ve got the little girl.”

Hope surged through John, and he struggled up against the pillows. Agony stabbed at his ribs, and he subsided, gasping. “Is she all right?”

Caitlin ignored him and tucked her notebook back into her pocket. “Where?”

“Couple of teenagers found her wandering the parking lot of the hamburger joint out on Route Six. Right now, she’s downstairs in the ER, being checked out. Other than being cold and scared out of her mind, she seems to be okay.”

She moved toward the door. “We need to spread out a net from that point—”

“Already doing it. Who put you in charge, anyway? Did you forget you were on vacation?”

Ignoring the teasing, Caitlin glanced back at John, her smile cool. “Thank you for your help, detective.”

John matched her stare for icy stare. “Sure. Anytime.”

Once the door closed with a soft click, he dropped his head back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling. He welcomed the pain that shot through his skull. He deserved it. Guilt coiled through him. She was right—he’d let down his guard, let Mitchell catch him unprepared.

Beth was paying for his mistakes.

He couldn’t stay here in this bed while she was out there, somewhere, at Mitchell’s mercy. A grim chuckle escaped him. Mercy. Mitchell didn’t have any, and Beth bore the scars to prove it.

Teeth gritted against the pain, he shoved to a sitting position and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Waves of dizziness attacked his head, and he closed his eyes, swearing. Beads of icy perspiration broke on his upper lip, and he brushed at them, the slight weight of the intravenous line dragging at his arm.

He glanced at his hand, a large purple bruise spreading to his wrist, and memory returned of pulling the needle out earlier. Gritting his teeth, he tugged the line free once more. Stinging hurt shot up his arm. He held on to the discomfort, using it to focus his flagging energy. His feet slid to the floor, and he stood, shaky knees not wanting to bear his weight.

The door opened, and he glanced up, his gaze clashing with Lanie’s. Her full mouth, already bracketed with tension lines, twisted in frustration. “Damn it, John, I warned you.”

“I’m getting out of here.” He glanced down at the hospital gown and his bare feet. “Where the hell are my clothes?”

One hand holding the door open, Lanie glanced back over her shoulder. “Steve, I need your cuffs.”

“Like hell you do!”

Martinez appeared in the doorway. “Falconetti, you’re not really planning to—”

“Watch me.”

“Don’t touch me,” John snarled, pushing her hands away.

“Believe me, right now I’d rather pick up a live rattlesnake.” Lanie glanced at him, her hazel gaze far colder than her cousin’s had been. Unable to meet her eyes, John glanced away. Damn it, he’d never wanted her hurt. He struggled to stand again. “But you’re going to hurt yourself if someone doesn’t stop you.”

Her fingers slid into the pressure point behind his clavicle, buckling his knees, sending numbness along his arms. “You damned—”

Cold steel closed around his wrist; a metallic ring told him the other cuff had closed around the bed frame. Lanie glared down at him. “Just spit it out, O’Reilly.”

He gave a hard, ineffectual tug at the cuff, then matched her glare. Defensiveness tightened his lungs. “I guess you’ve been talking to your cousin.”

Her eyebrows lifted, a cold smile curving her mouth. “I’m just finally seeing what’s been right in my face all along. Steve, would you leave us alone?”

“You’re not going to hurt him, are you?” The joking didn’t cover the concern in Martinez’s disembodied voice.

“No.” The disdain in her voice matched the emotion that John watched flicker in the golden depths of her eyes where before he’d only seen affection and desire.

“I’ll be right outside. Holler if you need me.”

Silence followed the click of the door closing. His chest heaving and aching, John stared up at Lanie. Blood dripped down his wrist and pooled at his elbow. “You have to take that cuff off. I’ve got to get out of here.”

Her stony expression didn’t change. “I don’t
have
to do anything, you lying rat.”

“Lanie, please.” He rattled the cuff again, hating the hoarse pleading in his voice. “You don’t understand.”

“I understand plenty. Do you have family I need to contact?”

He frowned. She knew his parents were dead, that he was an only child. “No. You—”

“So at least part of it was the truth. Wait, you didn’t really lie, did you, O’Reilly? You just didn’t tell the whole truth.”

“I know you’re angry, but I’ve got to—”

Her harsh laugh exploded in the quiet room. “Angry? I wouldn’t exactly call it anger. And what you’re going to do is stay in that bed and recuperate.”

Desperation slid under his skin. “He let Nicole go because he won’t hurt Beth in front of her. She’s in danger, and I—”

“You love her, don’t you?”

The quiet, deadly words brought him to a stop. For the first time, he glimpsed agony beneath the ice. Guilt cramped his stomach, and he softened his voice. “Lanie, I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.” Her gaze didn’t move from his, but the existence of their unborn child hung between them, the double meaning heavy in her words. “Were you sleeping with her, too?”

Anger rocketed through his veins. “No, damn it, I wasn’t sleeping with her.”

“Of course not.” That same harsh laugh escaped her, and she turned away. “If she was sleeping with you, you wouldn’t have needed me, would you? So were you thinking of her while you were with me?”

Her voice dropped with the accusation, and he shook his head. He hadn’t had to think of Beth because the physical attraction, the pleasure, had always been so strong with Lanie. She’d made him forget anything or anyone else existed. “No.”

“Liar.”

“Lanie, it’s the truth, I swear.”

She shot him a glare, sliding the infinity pendant over her head and letting it drop into a silver pool on the bed. “Right.”

He watched her move toward the door, and panicked helplessness rose in him. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to check on Nicole, and then I’m going home.”

“Take Martinez with you. Your cousin thinks Mitchell might try to use you to get back at me.”

“I can take care of myself. And as good as Cait is, there’s only one problem with her scenario—in order for Mitchell to use me against you, you’d have to give a damn about me. Goodbye, John.”

“Damn it, Lanie, I do care about you.” The words fell in the empty air, the door closing behind her. Dropping against the pillow, he muttered growling curses, jerking at the cuff and sending pain shooting up his arm and through his upper body.

She wasn’t going to listen to him. The lump of cold fear in his stomach grew larger. What if Ms. Perfect was right? What if Mitchell decided to go after Lanie?

He tugged at the cuff again. He had to get out of here. He couldn’t let another woman die because of him and his failures.