Maverick Read online

  Her chin snapped around and she was suddenly nose to nose with him. “What?” He pulled her glasses off. “Remember up on the mesa?”

  One glance at his mouth and she couldn’t look away. “I—What about the mesa?”

  “Whiskey.” The cuff slid off her wrist. She barely felt it. Her hand flattened against his shirt. She meant to push him away. “I distracted you from tasting it—then it wasn’t so bad.” He was so close she could feel his breath on her lips as he spoke. “Flying’s like that, too.” His lips brushed hers. She moistened her own instinctively, barely aware she did. His fingers tilted her chin up just the slightest bit and hers curled into his shirt at the contact.

  Their jet made a hard right turn and the engines began to race. Maggie’s heart echoed it, but she no longer knew why. She lifted her eyes to his and was completely lost. “Kiss me. . .” He swallowed the rest of her plea, along with the soft sound she made seconds later.

  When he lifted his head they were airborne, soaring through the cloudless sky effortlessly. Still dazed, she glanced across the plane out the window on the other side at the clear blue air. She hadn’t worried about the take-off once—hadn’t even felt it.

  “Distraction,” she whispered.

  Jack grinned. “Works every time. It’s a great tool.” He touched her nose. “Distraction’s what you do to me—I thought you’d have figured that out by now.” She distracted him? She nearly laughed. She hadn’t figured anything of the sort. But she would give distraction a great deal of thought from now on. What worked for the Special Lieutenant could certainly work for the lady trying to get away from him.

  Maggie awkwardly used her left hand to shove her seat back. She’d banged her head when he’d tossed her to the floor this morning, and her wrist was worse than ever. The kiss had even distracted her from the pain. But he wasn’t kissing her now.

  She kept her eyes on the handcuffs. He’d dangled them from the seat-back pocket in front of him. One of the circlets swayed lazily with the motion of the plane. They were about twenty minutes into their flight when he glanced at her and swore softly.

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  Nearly mesmerized by the swinging handcuff and the loud droning of the plane, Maggie startled at his harsh question. “What?” He didn’t answer, just pushed the overhead button for the stewardess and yanked her briefcase out from under the seat in front of her. He ordered vodka and a can of orange juice. When it arrived, he folded pills into her hand and mixed the drink. “All of it,” he ordered.

  Surprised that he’d even known she was hurting, she didn’t argue. The screwdriver was certainly easier to swallow than whiskey. And stronger than Merlot. Ten minutes later she was sound asleep on his shoulder, dreaming of Derek’s cabin. He had to wake her when the plane arrived at the gate. He pushed her glasses back onto her nose and put the handcuffs into his pocket.

  Maggie smiled through a sleepy haze. She didn’t have to wear the handcuffs. She let him pull her along. The briefcase bumped comfortably between their two bodies. It was on his shoulder, but as long as she could feel it there, she wasn’t worried. She kept her eyes on his sleeve and followed, still half-asleep.

  She didn’t check the airport waiting room. They didn’t have any luggage, so once Jack retrieved his gun, they went directly outside. A familiar wave of heat washed over her when they exited the terminal. She didn’t check the sidewalk. Inside the taxi, she settled her head back on his shoulder. “Can we see Melissa?”

  “Real soon, darlin’.” Maggie closed her eyes with a soft smile.

  She didn’t ask where they were going. He didn’t tell her.

  An hour later she realized what he’d done. Distraction. She vowed he’d never catch her again with that particular “tool.”

  Chapter 13

  “Now, Maggie—you know hollerin’ at me isn’t going to help your head.”

  “Damn my head. And you along with it. I cannot believe what you did.” “But that’s just the point.”

  She could only stare. He wasn’t making any sense.

  “It’s done,” he explained gently. “And your sister will be here tonight. You’ll both be safe. You’ll be together. Isn’t that the point?” That wasn’t the point at all. Or at least not the current point. “You drugged me!” “I handed you pills. You swallowed them.”

  “I thought they were Advil. That’s what I had in my bag.”

  “I’ll admit I wasn’t exactly straight-forward with you—“ He held up his hands to ward off the pending explosion. “I could have arrested you.”

  “How is being taken hostage at a ranch any better than being arrested?”

  Jack’s eyes twinkled. “You’re makin’ a fuss over nothin’, darlin’. I didn’t take you hostage. I placed you in protective custody.” “Whose custody? Your father’s?”

  “Mine. My room—my bed—“

  She glared at him across that bed. “Your gun?”

  He grinned. Just relaxed back on his heels and grinned. She eyed a trophy on the shelf over the bed. The prize would look real good in the middle of his face. She’d bet that would wipe out the smirk. “I didn’t say you had to get naked, Maggie—but I won’t object if you insist. You’ll have to be quiet here, though. I told you about the walls. . .”

  “I sure as hell hope you brought your gun, because that’s the only way you’ll ever see me naked again, Lieutenant Myles.”

  She couldn’t believe his grin could get wider, but it did. “Shouldn’t make promises you won’t keep, my Maggie.”

  “Don’t call me that.” She picked up the trophy, weighing it in her hand. “I wouldn’t sleep with you if—” A not-too-soft tap interrupted from the door behind Jack. Josephina Myles, a trim sixty-three-year-old with a sweet smile and eyes exactly like her son’s, stood behind it. “Jack, your father wants you.”

  Maggie’s fingers relaxed their stranglehold on the trophy. You just couldn’t deck a man with his mother watching. She didn’t take her eyes off of his, though, until his slid to his mother. “We’re a little busy here, Mama.”

  “So I heard. I’ll keep Ms. Chambers company while you’re gone.” Maggie lifted one eyebrow. She could take lessons. The sweet Mrs. Myles could load her voice with more venom than a rattler. And, wonder of wonders, Jack was actually moving toward the door.

  He stopped to brush a kiss across his mother’s cheek. She touched the scratches on his, one eyebrow lifted. He smiled and glanced pointedly at Maggie. “Take it easy on her, Mama. She’s wounded, too. And dangerous. Just ask Nancy Frederick.” He whistled his way out, easing the door shut behind him.

  Embarrassed that his mother no doubt heard her yelling—about sleeping with her son, no less—Maggie began to study the trophy intently. First Place Award: Marksmanship. Figures. The older woman was silent. Maggie replaced the trophy carefully on the shelf. Did Jack’s mother know who Nancy Frederick was? She’d rather confront Kevin, but there was no escape. She blew out a quick, silent breath and faced the formidable Mrs. Myles straight on.

  “May I call you Maggie?” She didn’t smile. Maggie gave a slight nod. “You’re upset with Jack. I don’t blame you. From what I understand, the methods he used to bring you home with him were,” she paused and her eyebrow lifted again. “Questionable?”

  Questionable didn’t begin to describe it.

  “I just wanted you to know I raised him better than that.”

  Maggie sighed. Josephina Myles wasn’t the one who’d drugged and abducted her. “He’s trying to do his job.” Mrs. Myles shook her head, surprising Maggie. “No, dear. I’ve seen Jack on the job. He’s not working now. Jack is following his heart. He has never, to my knowledge, confused the two.”

  Maggie bit down on her tongue. It was the only way to stop her impulsive denial. Mrs. Myles’ frown slid up into a slight smile. “Be that as it may, it’s understandable that you might feel uncomfortable. You’re a guest in my house. I want you to know that you’re welcome here. And, judging from the a
ppearance of his face, it would appear you can hold your own well enough.”

  Maggie blushed furiously. “I—thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say. I scratched him because he attacked me in my hotel room. You’re very kind and I hope you realize it’s no reflection on you that when I get away from your insane son, I intend to press charges. Probably right after he arrests me.

  “Listen to him with your heart, Maggie. You’ll hear something completely different than you’re hearing now. Jack’s never been one for long speeches.”

  She could certainly vouch for that. “Did he mention my sister? Melissa?” “I believe she’ll be here in a few hours. He told me the two of you have had a rather rough time of it.”

  Bet he didn’t tell you how we met. Or that he had to put handcuffs on me to get me here. Then again, maybe he had. Jack’s mother struck her as the sort of person you could tell nearly anything. Maggie smiled. If Jack hadn’t told her, maybe she should. “I appreciate your hospitality, Mrs. Myles.”

  “Call me Josie, honey. Why don’t you get settled in—take a nap if you’d like.” They both knew she’d just awakened from a very long nap, in the plane and again the car. “If not, you’re welcome to join me downstairs. I’ll be in the kitchen.” For all her dulcet tones, Maggie realized she’d just received her orders. She had two choices. Sleep, or join Jack’s mother in the kitchen.

  She frowned at the closed door. Like mother, like son. Wonder what his father’s like? She reached for her briefcase. She didn’t need to open it to know. The pouch with the bearer bonds and the copy of the robbery note—returned to her briefcase for the trip to Texas—were gone again. She unzipped it anyway. Her money box was secure, as well as the small pouch with her locket and the envelope with her family picture and the ads. She left the briefcase in the middle of the bed, headed to find the kitchen. And, hopefully, Jack. Mrs. Myles may have saved her son from a trophy-bashing, but Maggie most definitely wasn’t through with him yet.

  Jack was through with Maggie. At least for a while. After finding his father engrossed in the news on television, without a single word to say his son, Jack wandered outside with his phone. He’d already deposited Maggie’s evidence in the safe in his father’s office. He’d lock it up at Austin headquarters on the way to the airport when he went to get Melissa. He checked his watch. That would give him about an hour to make his calls.

  Voice mail first. Maggie had told him the truth about Arizona. Hospital records showed Melissa Chambers was discharged in August. The first week of September, a Jane Doe fitting Maggie’s age and description was admitted. She was discharged to Child Welfare seven months later. Phoenix County had billed Mira Vista County. Mira Vista had refused to pay the extensive medical bills. Two years later they were charged off to the state as Indigent Uncollectible. He couldn’t explain why that bothered him. He wondered if Maggie knew and decided she’d probably never thought about it. Overshadowing all the information was stark relief that she hadn’t lied to him.

  About that, anyway. He frowned. A message from Frank informed him that they’d found Kevin’s rental car in Glenwood Springs. Fingerprints certified a positive ID. Kevin wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity of the car. Jack forwarded the message to Chuck.

  He called Shipwrecks and confirmed with Derek that Melissa made the plane to Denver. An operative at DIA would make sure she didn’t miss the connecting flight to Austin. “We’ve got a positive ID on Kevin in Glenwood. Keep your eyes open.”

  “How’s Megan?”

  “She’s fine. I’ll tell her you said hi.”

  “Just get them both back here as soon as you can. Megan isn’t easy to replace, you know.” Jack knew.

  He dialed into voice mail again. The report was in on his father’s hired hand. Jack returned to the house. In the den, he perched on the edge of the sofa next to his father’s easy chair and waited for a commercial. When the news was on, unless the house was on fire or one of his children was giving birth, Daniel John Myles didn’t want to hear it until a commercial.

  A large satellite dish enabled his father to watch the first edition of the evening news from the east coast. It was only eleven in Austin, but it was noon in New York and Washington. All the news his father cared about was ready to be reported for the day.

  As soon as the first commercial jingle started, his father smiled at him. “She’s pretty.” Jack’s answering smile was quick. “She is.”

  “A little more modern than what you used to like.”

  Jack’s smile widened to a grin. His father wasn’t much one for girls with boy-short hair. “Not as modern as you’d think, Pop. When I met her, her hair was thick and brown and covered her butt.”

  His father raised his eyebrows. “Just so you like her, son.”

  “I like her fine. She’s smart, and mouthy. With a temper just like Mama’s.” “Is that a problem?”

  “Won’t be in the long run,” Jack stated quickly. He winked at his father. “Keeps a man on his toes.”

  “That it does, son, that it does. She’s in the kitchen with your mama now. I heard her come down a few minutes ago.” Jack’s gaze strayed to the kitchen door. It was a swinging pass-through door, and he could count on one hand the number of times in his life it had been closed. It was closed now. His grin disappeared. He’d hoped he could tell his side of the story first. Maggie had beat him to the punch. He was gonna get an earful from Mama later. He sighed. “I got the report back on Bill Jefferson. He’s a phony.”

  His father nodded, not at all perturbed. “Thought so. Thanks, son. Anything else?” The evening news bumper music was on. “Nothin’ that can’t wait. See you at supper.”

  His father’s gaze slid back to the television and stayed. When supper was over, Jack knew he’d have all the time he needed to talk to his father. All night long if the occasion or the subject warranted. Just not during the evening news.

  *** Maggie slid silently into a chair at the kitchen table. It wasn’t even noon yet. Never had a single day lasted so long. Mrs. Myles was at the freezer door, loading a glass with ice. She didn’t turn around, but asked, “Iced tea or lemonade, dear?”

  The lady must have eyes in the back of her head. “Tea, please,” Maggie murmured. “Or just water if it’s more convenient.”

  “It’s all ready. Dan likes tea. I like something a little sweeter.” The kitchen was spacious. Luscious smells—a pie?—drifted from a large double oven built into the wall. Ice-blue tiles danced with sunny yellow ones over the long counter tops. Pale yellow curtains with blue ribbons sighed softly in a breeze over the kitchen window. Vertical blinds in the same shade of blue hung at a sliding door. The room was bright and sunny, comfortable and inviting. Homey. Maggie winced as the word flashed across her mind. She wouldn’t know homey if it slapped her in the face. Only the table and the linoleum on the floor looked out of place. The table was worn maple, its surface scarred with old cuts and scrapes. The flooring was spotlessly clean, but faded.

  “The floor’s being replaced this fall.” Maggie’s gaze shot guiltily back to Mrs. Myles’ face. She couldn’t believe she’d let all her thoughts show. Jack’s mother put the full glass of ice and a pitcher of tea on the table in front of Maggie. “Jack’s oldest sister, Jenny—has he told you much about us?” Maggie shook her head. “Well, she’s married to a carpenter. He redid the kitchen last summer. I didn’t think I’d live through it—Dan nearly took me to a hotel. I didn’t have my kitchen for an entire week.”

  Maggie poured herself a glass of tea and tried to hide a smile. Mrs. Myles’ kitchen must be equivalent to her own tub. Suddenly hiding her smile wasn’t hard. There wasn’t any of it left to hide. Mrs. Myles carefully closed the swinging kitchen door. Maggie swallowed hard.

  “We won’t be interrupted now.”

  Maggie gave a nod. Let the interrogation begin. She headed it off with a question of her own. “Have you and Mr. Myles lived here long?” “Dan was born here—right upstairs. He took over running the ranch from his
father a year before we were married—forty years ago last October. Our anniversary was the last time Jack was home—the kids all threw us a party.” She settled herself into the chair next to Maggie’s and took a sip of her lemonade. “Jack has four sisters. Jenny’s our oldest, then Peggy. Jack came in the middle, then we had the twins, Victoria and Ronnie.” She smiled—a very proud, mother’s smile. “Her name’s Veronica, but Jack always called her Ronnie and it stuck. I don’t think he ever forgave me for coming home from the hospital with two more girls.”

  Maggie smiled, relaxing in spite of her nerves. If she kept on asking questions, Josie Myles might talk about her family for hours. “Has he always been so domineering?” she blurted out the question, then blushed. What was she thinking? She was his mother—but his mother was smiling.

  “Every bit of it. I’ve heard that most mothers go round and round with their daughters. Not so with me. My daughters and I get along fine—always have. Jack, now—Jack always knew his own mind. He’s never second-guessed himself—never hesitated to act if something needed to be done—whether the something really needed to be done or not. I can’t begin to count the number of times I’ve told him what trouble his rash actions can get him into.” She patted Maggie’s hand and smiled fondly. “He always smiled that angelic smile, agreed calmly with me, and went right ahead and did what he wanted.”

  At least she wasn’t completely responsible for his nasty, arrogant disposition. The knowledge didn’t ease her anger, but it did make her feel a little better. “He hasn’t always gotten away with this sort of thing, has he?”

  “I don’t actually know the details about the two of you. . . “ Josie’s eyes were keen, but her smile was disarming. “But heavens, no. Jack was nothing but trouble at school—and the scrapes that boy got into. . . But since college—since he decided law enforcement was what he wanted to do—he’s ticked off a fair number of people, but not without cause. And once he started using his brain to pick his fights, so to speak, he mostly comes out on top. It helps, of course, that he’s usually right.”