Love On the Run Page 25

  “She’s out,” Jared said. Cassi could see his grin by the light coming from the window in the outer apartment. “I used the ring Fred gave me. The stuff worked fast—probably more so because of the drugs already in her system.”

  “Poor girl.”

  Jared’s arms went around her. Cassi felt her knees go weak at the sudden release of tension. “Some honeymoon,” Jared whispered. He unhooked the strap on her gas mask and let it fall to the floor.

  “It’s over now,” she said with a sigh.

  But as she spoke, the dim lights overhead flickered on, and an all-too-familiar voice spoke. “Ten, nine, eight, seven . . .”

  Taggart struggled to his feet, which were still cuffed together like his hands. “The countdown is still going. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  Cassi looked at Jared. “She must have a backup. Oh, yes—the generator. I noticed it when we first came in.”

  But it was on the other side of the room. Could she make it in time? For all those innocent people, she had to try. Shoving the gun into Jared’s hand, she sprinted across the floor.

  “. . . three, two . . .”

  There was no way she could ever make it.

  The lights abruptly went dark again, and the voice was silenced. Cassi came to a stop near the generator. Sampson smiled up at her in the dark. “I think I found the problem.”

  Tears ran down Cassi’s face, but she laughed. “Oh, Sampson, you are one incredible boy.”

  “I saved everyone, huh?” His grin covered his whole face.

  She put an arm around him. “Yes. I’d say you did more than your share of saving today. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  They were a sorry-looking lot that stumbled from the building and into the small crowd of people on the sidewalk—a bloodied Fred carried Brooke in his arms, Taggart shuffled out with Jared holding a gun at his back, and Cassi and Sampson came out last, close on Jared’s heels. Sampson held the samurai sword in his hands.

  “It’s from Japan, I think,” Cassi told him. “It’s very valuable.”

  “Cool, can I keep it?”

  “Probably not,” Jared said with a grin. “I’ll bet it belongs to someone—or to a museum.” He gave his gun and care of Taggart back to Alberto and put an arm around each of them. “But I’m sure we can find something that you’ll like even better.”

  Sampson smiled. “I guess I can wait.” For a moment he was silent, and when he spoke again his voice was hesitant, his face earnest. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a pain. But do you think you two might come see me sometime—wherever I end up?”

  Cassi turned to Jared. Without words, an understanding passed between them. “Well, we were kind of hoping you’d like to stay with us,” she said.

  Sampson’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  Jared nodded. “Really. You know, just to see how you like it. But I think we all make a great team, don’t you?”

  “Of course, our house isn’t like the one you’re used to,” Cassi added. “It’s small. But we can all choose a new one together, if we decide we need more space.”

  “Okay.” Sampson spoke with a forced casualness, as though it was difficult for him to speak. His eyes glimmered. “I could come for a while, I guess.”

  Cassi smiled, knowing that what she and Jared planned for Sampson was a lot longer than “a while.”

  “What about your honeymoon?” Sampson asked.

  “Well, right now I think we’d rather just stay home, wouldn’t we, Jared?”

  “That’s right. Unless you know of any deserted islands available—and even that might be too much adventure. But we could go camping sometime. If I remember correctly, we owe you some marshmallows.”

  Sampson grinned, shifting the sword in his hands. “I could go for that.”

  Sirens filled the streets. Cassi leaned her head against Jared and sighed. It really was over. Or maybe, she thought as she watched Sampson, it has just begun.

  EPILOGUE

  FRED GLANCED AT HIS WATCH. It was time to meet Brooke at the clinic where she would be checking out for the last time. He had been to visit her almost every day for the past five months. With each visit he became more emotionally involved.

  Justin came into the room. “I’ve been talking with the locals in Portugal again,” he said. “They still can’t believe the intricacies of Garrettson’s setup. We all agree that we’re glad she didn’t have another failsafe planned.”

  The idea that Laranda could have set up an automatic poison release if the generator was turned off still haunted Fred’s dreams.

  “According to the tapes and the computer programs, Laranda would have killed everyone, regardless of the choice Jared and Cassi made in the vault,” Justin went on.

  Jared had suggested as much when they had gone to the morgue one last time to check Garrettson’s death information. Fred had believed him even without Justin’s proof. “Well, it’s over now.” He pushed his chair back from the desk and stood. “She’s dead and gone.”

  “A good thing, too. She took too many with her as it was. But at least Agent Worthington survived, thanks to you.” Justin eyed his watch. “Hey, aren’t you going to be late?”

  Fred found his keys. “Only if I drive slow.”

  “Tell her hi for me, okay?”

  “I will.”

  When Fred entered Brooke’s room, she was ready to go. “Hello,” she said, a bit breathlessly.

  She was as beautiful as ever, but the confidence that had once shone in her eyes was missing. The doctor said she had made a full physical recovery from the high dosage of experimental drugs given her, but the mental recuperation would take more time. “It’s nothing physical,” the doctor had said, “but more that she needs to come to terms with what happened and the role she played. But she’s a strong woman, and I believe she’ll soon be fine.”

  Fred thought so, too.

  “You didn’t have to come,” Brooke said to him now. “I could’ve taken a taxi.”

  “I wouldn’t make you do that.” There were unspoken words in his heart, but he didn’t know how to get them out. He took her suitcases, and together they walked to his car.

  “What now?” he asked when they were inside.

  She didn’t meet his gaze. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about going home for a while.”

  “What about being a reporter for the San Diego Union-Tribune?”

  She grimaced. “Sorry about that. I just knew that if I could do a big story, they’d take me on full-time. Will you ever forgive me?”

  “I already have.” They’d talked about this several times over the past months, but she obviously felt the need to explain again. In his mind, Brooke hadn’t lied about writing for the paper. The paper had picked up a few of her articles, and he had no doubt that her story about Big Tommy and the Donellis would have secured her a permanent position—if she had been in any condition to write it. But that honor had gone to another, more fortunate reporter. “You could still work for them.”

  “I guess I could try, but I already blew the big story, perhaps the biggest of my career. I’m finding it a little difficult to start over.” She wrung her hands, now absent of any ring, though Fred had already returned the band he had found at Donelli’s.

  “Yeah, but I have an idea.”

  She leaned forward in her seat, looking at him with much of her former enthusiasm. Fred ached to take her in his arms and hold her, to tell her how much she meant to him. “What?”

  “I have a story that I think has headline potential. But it does involve a little trip to Brazil. Do you think you’re up to it?”

  “I don’t know.” The hesitation was back.

  “I’ll be going, too,” Fred said. “It’s FBI business. And while it’s not in my jurisdiction, this is something I don’t want to trust to any messenger. In fact, I’m taking a vacation just for the job.”

  “You, a vacation?” Her pale eyes twinkled. “Then it must be important.”

  “Wel
l, I had so much fun on the last one.” He meant it as a joke, but Brooke frowned. “I guarantee you’ll have a good time,” he added quickly. “Brazil has wonderful beaches.”

  She didn’t reply.

  “Please, Brooke. I want to be with you.” He held his breath.

  “Oh, Fred.” She put a soft hand on his arm. “I like you so much. Sometimes I can’t tell you how much. Then all at once the memories come back and make me feel so odd. I remember Giorgio, and how part of me thought to use him and the other part shrank in terror when he so much as touched my arm. I don’t know how I got out of that business without ending up in his bed. That frightens me. I don’t know that I’m ready for a relationship right now. I was before, and I was attracted to you, but now . . .”

  “I’m not in a hurry.” Fred put his hand over hers. “I’ve waited a long time to find a woman like you.”

  “I was so weak.” She tried to pull away.

  “No, you were so strong. Not once did you hurt someone. The doctors have told me what a miracle that was. You held onto a part of yourself even when that was almost impossible. I admire you so much. I want to be your friend, Brooke. Well, not only your friend. I want much more. But I’m willing to keep it at that until you’re good and ready.”

  She stopped trying to free her hand. “It’s a good story, huh?”

  “Yeah. It has real human appeal.”

  “Beaches?”

  “The best.”

  “Okay.” Her smile melted his heart. “I’ll go.”

  “Great.” They shook on it. Whatever it took, he knew Brooke would be part of his future. A vital part.

  Without warning she leaned over and kissed him. Given their conversation, the action took Fred by surprise. “I always wondered what your moustache would feel like,” she whispered.

  He chuckled softly and kissed her back, gently, not with demand but with promise. When she pulled away, he let her go, knowing that she had already begun to trust him. It was only a matter of time until he won her heart.

  * * *

  DENNIS FARON OPENED THE DOOR to his rented cottage door. His heart sank as he saw the couple outside, both obviously American. He stepped out into the bright Brazilian sun, closing the door behind him.

  “I wondered when you would catch up to me,” he said. “Please, I won’t make a fuss. Just let me say good-bye to my wife and kids.” In a way, the discovery was welcome. He had moved three times in the past five months, after being sure he had been spotted. His children, uprooted once again, asked questions he didn’t know how to answer, and each day guilt ate further into his soul. It was better the farce ended now. He couldn’t imagine living the rest of his life in this terrible limbo.

  The man shook his head. “This isn’t what you think.” He was a strong-looking man of average height with brown hair and eyes, and a trim moustache. His face was vaguely familiar. Perhaps he was in law enforcement. It hardly mattered.

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Supervisory Special Agent Fred Schulte from San Diego, and this is Brooke Erickson.”

  Now Dennis remembered the man. He had come to the prison the day Holbrooke had died. The day you killed Holbrooke, he told himself.

  “I’m not here to take you anywhere,” Schulte said. “I’ve just come to deliver this document. And Brooke here has a few questions. She’d like to write your side of the story.”

  Dennis was stunned. He had to force his hands to be still as he read the paper the agent had given him. Words jumped out of the document, disconnected and unreal—“matter of the murder of Quentin Thomas Holbrooke . . . acting under excessive coercion . . . determined innocent . . . all charges dismissed . . .”

  He looked up. “But how?”

  “A few people involved, myself included, have requested that the charges be dropped. Under the circumstances, those in authority agreed.”

  Tears sprang to Dennis’s eyes. “But—but why? Why would you do this for me?”

  “Because I know you had no choice.”

  Dennis didn’t know what to say.

  “I read your confession. I believed you.”

  “I still did it. I deserve to be punished. I should have told the authorities.”

  “If you had you would be dead. Maybe your entire family as well. I know these people, and you made the only choice you could to save your family.”

  Dennis was crying openly now. For months he’d dreamed of hearing those words from someone other than his loyal wife. “I really didn’t know what to do. I even liked the guy.”

  “He wasn’t a good person.” Schulte’s voice was grim. “He was a murderer, and much more.”

  “I know. But he always talked so nice. He missed his son.” Dennis closed his eyes. “Oh, his son. How is he?”

  Schulte cleared his throat. “Rumor has it that he was murdered in Europe by an opposing cartel.” He hesitated and then appeared to make a decision. “That’s the official record. But I happen to know he is safe and is being adopted by a nice couple who have no mob connections. The details are secret for his own protection.”

  Dennis gave a sigh of relief. “Well, thank God for that. You can be sure I won’t tell anyone. Thank you both for coming.”

  “I’d like to talk to you about your experience,” the woman said. “It’s for an article in the paper, and maybe later for a book I’m thinking about writing. It’ll help people understand why you had to make the choice you did. That will prepare the way for your family to go back to the States, if that’s what you want.”

  Dennis wiped his tears with the back of his hand. “Come in, then.” He opened the door and led the way inside, where his wife and children stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. “It’s okay,” he said, letting the longing show in his voice. “They’ve come to help us go home.”

  * * *

  CASSI AND SAMPSON SAT IN folding chairs on the small cement patio in back of the house. Sampson pushed two more marshmallows onto the end of his metal hanger and held it over the fire Jared had built in the cut-off bottom of an old metal trash can. It wasn’t exactly camping, but it was as close as Cassi wanted to get in February, when the nights were still cool in the mountains. Later in the summer, they would do the real thing.

  “Look who’s here.” Jared came from the house with Fred and Brooke. The couple held hands as they walked toward the chairs.

  Fred smiled at Sampson. “So, the big day has finally arrived.”

  Sampson swallowed his marshmallows. “Yeah, can you believe it?”

  “I’m glad you got back from Brazil in time for our party,” Cassi added. “It wouldn’t be the same without you here.”

  Fred grinned, seeming more relaxed than Cassi had ever seen him. “We wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

  “Brazil’s neat,” Sampson said. “But I like Portugal better. We’re going back to Alvito next month to see Marisa.”

  “Sampson and Marisa have been writing.” Jared slapped thick steaks on the grill in preparation for the additional guests who would soon arrive to help them celebrate the change in their family status.

  “Marisa, huh?” Fred’s voice was teasing.

  Sampson colored slightly. “Yeah. She’s okay for a girl.” He reached for another marshmallow, but Cassi grabbed the bag.

  “After dinner, okay?”

  He grinned. “All right.” Sampson wasn’t always so agreeable, but today was special and apparently he was on his best behavior.

  Sampson Landine was now officially their son. The boy had agreed to the adoption after living only a month with them, but he had been reluctant to change his last name. In the end, Fred had convinced him that it would be safer for all of them, in case some obscure relative came looking for him. Sampson didn’t call her mom yet, but Cassi wasn’t going to push him. The memories he had of his birth mother were important to all of them.

  “I’m thinking about being a Special Agent when I grow up,” Sampson told Fred. “But Cassi and Jared don’t like the idea too much
.”

  Fred glanced at Cassi. “I think you should become an art buyer. All those languages you know will come in handy.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Sampson’s hand inched toward the bag of marshmallows, but Cassi pulled it out of reach and stored it under her chair.

  “Oh, come on,” Sampson said with a moan. But he didn’t look too unhappy.

  Cassi watched everyone with enjoyment, especially Fred and Brooke. They were obviously in love, though neither seemed to know it yet. She couldn’t get over how different Brooke appeared now. Without the makeup, the sleek hairstyle, and the green contacts, she no longer resembled Laranda. Her face was warm and friendly, her manner easy and likeable. Cassi hoped that given a little more time, they would become good friends.

  “I’m having a little sister, you know,” Sampson said suddenly.

  Fred and Brooke glanced at Cassi for verification. “A baby?” asked Fred.

  Color rushed to Cassi’s face. “We were supposed to announce it after everyone got here. But yes, we’re going to have a baby.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Brooke said warmly. “Congratulations.”

  How marvelous to hear those words. During the past months, Cassi had begun to worry that she would never have any biological children. Not that she didn’t love Sampson. She did—deeply. All of the horror they had suffered with Laranda and Big Tommy was nothing compared to the joy of having him in their family. She would go through it all again, and much more, to have Sampson as her son. This baby—the fulfillment of a lifetime desire—was icing on the cake.

  Jared left the grill and came to stand beside her chair. To Cassi’s delight, he placed his hands under the tight ringlets that had already grown to half their former length and firmly rubbed her shoulders. “We don’t know if it’s a girl yet.”

  “I do.” Somehow Sampson had another marshmallow on his hanger, and the bag that had disappeared from under Cassi’s chair now nestled in his lap.

  This time she didn’t object. After all, they were in the midst of a party, and a few marshmallows had never stopped Sampson from gulping down at least two helpings of whatever dinner she and Jared served. He was remarkably easy to feed, and even ate Cassi’s charred attempts at food with no comment.