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  When the phone rang, Jack glanced at the back and shot Melissa a grin. “Waco.” He turned his back and closed his eyes. “Austin Plaza.” There was silence for so long he was afraid he’d lost the connection. He held up his hand to keep Melissa from so much as breathing and heard a soft, choking sound over the line.

  “I—I’m calling about a package.”

  “Hi, darlin’.”

  “Do you have it there with you?” Her tone dripped icicles.

  Jack frowned. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

  “Has the package arrived?”

  “Maggie,” Melissa’s call was deafening. “I’m here with Jack.” Maggie had to have heard. “We’re waiting, darlin’.” Why didn’t she talk to him? He heard more of the soft background sounds he couldn’t identify. What was wrong? “When you get here, come inside alone. The lobby is kind of cluttered, with tables and chairs and trees. Just stay on the tile walkway, not the carpet. Go past the main desk, past the coat check room and turn left. My car will be outside. It’s silver. Big. You get in it. Understand?” Silence. “Maggie?” Another sound, this one sounding like a sniff. Had she heard? Did she understand? “Darlin’? You there?”

  She cut him off. “I’m on my way.”

  Maggie replaced the receiver, leaned her forehead against the telephone. Just hearing his voice. . .

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  She pasted on a brilliant smile, forced her knees to hold her up and swivelled. “Nothing. The package is waiting.”

  “Why are you crying?”

  “I m-miss Melissa.” She scraped in a ragged breath. “I was thinking about her, in jail, while they checked to see if the package was there.” Kevin had already lost interest. “Let’s go.”

  ***

  “Testing. Testing.” Across the tree-studded lobby, Chuck threw Jack a thumb’s up and headed out into the early morning sunshine. Jack slipped into the stairwell and blew out a deep breath. Just a few more minutes and the out-of-control-nightmare would be over. He whistled softly into the two-way radio. Chuck had supplied the tiny earpieces and microphones that attached to the collar of their shirts. “Anything?”

  He could hear Chuck’s grin. “No. You’re not going to pester me every thirty seconds, are you?” Jack scowled. “Just makin’ sure you’re awake, friend.”

  ***

  Kevin and Maggie stopped again at the outskirts of Austin. Kevin looked up the address and got directions from a large map in the convenience store. Maggie shoved away all her tumbling emotions and concentrated on being Jenna Cole.

  Jenna’s much stronger than Maggie.

  She straightened her shoulders, relaxing her death grip on the wheel as she pulled back onto the highway.

  Jenna’s never had to fight anything that hurts like this. She can’t feel the ache. She doesn’t even know Jack. He’s never betrayed her. It worked until she pulled up in front of the plush resort.

  Kevin tossed her a suspicious glance. “You’re staying here?”

  Partners. The Criminal Mind.

  She flashed him a cold smile. “Yeah. Compliments of a credit card I found.” “You don’t have the card now. You don’t even have your ID now.”

  “Give me the damn key, Kevin. I’m retrieving a package, remember? Not checking in. Not checking out. I’ll be right back.”

  Kevin nodded. “I’m coming in. You won’t see me. But I’ll be close enough to hear you.” He slipped on a jacket, hiding the gun he had stashed in his belt.

  Maggie scrambled to get the car door open and her legs outside so he couldn’t see her face. He wasn’t supposed to come in with her. Or was he?

  Come inside alone.

  Nothing she could do about that now. “Just get the package, Jenna,” she whispered to herself. Her tennis shoes whispered over the sleek, gleaming tile of the entryway. Slow down.

  Her feet slowed obediently. The lobby looked just as Jack described it. She eyed the door he’d instructed her to use with longing. But Kevin was right behind her. Melissa wasn’t free. Maggie cleared her throat before she got to the curved marble counter sweeping the outside of the front desk. There was a line. Maggie joined it. She didn’t fidget, or tap her foot. She barely breathed.

  In the parking lot, Chuck swore silently and spoke into the mike on his collar. “He’s coming in, Jack. Right behind her. I don’t have a clear shot.”

  The answer was immediate, crisp and clear. “Stay on her.” Jack watched Maggie take a place in the line. Too much to hope she’d start following instructions now. He tore his gaze away from Maggie and sought out Kevin. Not four feet in front of him, behind a thin tree, with his back to Jack. Jack smiled. Dumb as dirt. As soon as Maggie was out of sight, he could end it. He snatched out his gun and slid the safety off in one smooth gesture. Out in the lobby, Kevin did the same. Jack reached for the door handle.

  Chuck was too far from Maggie—at the end of the sweeping front desk, thumbing through a pamphlet. But he gave Jack a nod when Jack slipped silently out of the stairwell and into the lobby. Chuck took a step toward Maggie.

  She had the front desk clerk’s attention now. Jack trained his eyes on Kevin. He was inching out from behind the tree, focused on Maggie.

  Jack needed a diversion. When one wasn’t forthcoming, he decided to create his own. “This little party’s too big, Chuck,” he murmured. Then he lifted his gun. And yelled. “FBI. Nobody move!” He had a fairly clear shot at Kevin. But Kevin’s bead on Maggie was even clearer. Jack closed the distance between them in two heartbeats and nestled the barrel of his gun at Kevin’s temple.

  “Maggie. Get out of here.”

  He could see her feet, there in the farthest corner of his field of vision. She’d turned at his yell, but didn’t move now. Jack shifted his gun from his right hand to his left and reached into his pocket. “Chuck. Get her out of here.” He flung his car keys in Chuck’s direction. And stepped carefully between Kevin and Maggie.

  Kevin uttered a low growl at Jack’s sudden move. His wild eyes narrowed, and his fingers tightened around his gun.

  Jack heard a soft cry from Maggie. Then nothing—not Chuck’s footsteps—not Maggie’s. Eyes never leaving Kevin’s, he yelled again. “Maggie—go. Get the hell out of here. Now.”

  Maggie, propelled by Chuck, got the hell out.

  Jack smiled down at Kevin. “Drop it, Cormack. Now.”

  Kevin swore.

  Jack took in Kevin’s battered eye and swollen nose and his smile became a grin. “She hit you, Kevin? Huh? You let a girl bust up your nose? And your eye?”

  “I’ll take you with me,” Kevin threatened. His eyes began to glaze.

  Jack’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Last warning, you son of a bitch. Drop. . . your. . . weapon.” One second of absolute silence.

  Kevin’s eyes filled with hate. His finger whitened around the trigger.

  Jack wasn’t fast enough. The bullet grazed his shoulder. Kevin fell to the tile beside him, two bullets and one split second later.

  Jack reached for Kevin’s non-existent pulse and shook his head. “Dumb as dirt,” he murmured.

  ***

  Maggie didn’t speak to Chuck. She fought him, every step of the way out of the hotel—even wrenched free when the shots sounded. “Jack.” she screamed and flung open the heavy door to the lobby just as Chuck grabbed her from behind. He promptly tossed her over his shoulder. Shoved her into the driver’s side of a big, silver car. Maggie scrambled across the seat and back out the other side.

  Chuck simply followed her. And repeated the process. Only this time, he didn’t let go of her left wrist. Her right was too sore to get the car door open again.

  “We’re out of here,” Chuck murmured to the steering wheel before tearing away from the hotel. “Call me.”

  He pulled a tiny piece of plastic from his ear and slid what looked like a toothpick out from under his collar. But he didn’t offer her any explanations.

  So she didn’t speak to him. Even when he pulled
onto the highway and released her arm. She didn’t look at him either. Until his phone rang. He didn’t miss the look she gave him as he lifted it to his ear. “Yeah.” He listened for a moment while Maggie chewed on her sore bottom lip. “That’s what I figured. We both heard the shots. She’s not talking to me, but I’ll check.”

  Ignore him.

  Instead, Maggie ignored the inner voice, and grabbed the phone from Chuck. “Where’s Melissa?” she demanded. She wouldn’t admit how even Jack’s chuckle soothed her heart. “Right here, darlin’. She’s taping up my shoulder.”

  Maggie closed her eyes. Damn him. She’d known he was hurt. “What’s wrong with your shoulder?”

  “Nothin’ now. Melissa wants to fly to Chicago to be with Emily.”

  “Is it safe?” She hated the tremor in her voice, but couldn’t stop it. “I mean, I want to see her first.” “She wants to see you, too. And yeah, it’s safe. But it’s going to be a couple of days.” “Why?”

  “It just is.” The smile was gone from his voice. “You all right, darlin’?”

  Maggie stared out the side window and willed herself not to cry. She wouldn’t answer his question—didn’t know the answer herself. Jack sighed in her ear. When he spoke again his voice was cool. “Chuck’s taking you home, Maggie. In return, you’re going to turn over that note. And you’re going to be very nice to him on the way. Understand?”

  She understood. Everything. Get Maggie out of the way, wrap up all the loose ends in a nice tidy bundle and everybody gets back to their lives. Maggie tossed the small phone to the seat.

  The trip took seventeen hours. Chuck was polite and impersonal, offering numerous rest stops and meal breaks. Maggie consumed caffeine until it didn’t work any more. Somewhere in Kansas, after dark, she gave up. She tipped back in the luxurious leather seat, cocooned in a blanket Chuck produced from the back seat and stopped trying to block out the terrible vision of Jack stepping between her and Kevin.

  She found him almost immediately. His strong arms replaced the blanket. His soft drawl whispered her the rest of the way home. At three in the morning they pulled off of I-70 in New Castle. Maggie blinked fondly at Shipwrecks, then frowned when Chuck turned right two blocks later. Obviously he didn’t need directions to her house.

  Kevin had trashed her little cabin. Maggie kicked enough things out of the way to create a walkway through the tumble of her belongings and left Chuck in her chaotic living room. She handed over the original note, shook her head when he asked if there was anything else he could do for her, and locked the door behind him.

  Maggie headed straight for the bathroom. Five minutes later, she eased her exhausted body into her wonderful tub. And pushed away thoughts of one Jack Myles. Ten minutes after that, sound asleep, she was back in his arms.

  An hour later, skin pruny, a sneeze woke her. The sneeze was followed by an enormous yawn. She smiled.

  A clean sleep shirt went over her head. Her feet slid into her own bed. She pulled Jack around her. And smiled. A FedEx driver rang her bell at eight the next morning. He didn’t stay—they rarely did, but the noise was enough to wake her up. Along with her newspaper, she brought the large white, purple and orange box inside and set the package on her overturned crate. The box stayed in the living room. The newspaper went with her to the kitchen to make coffee.

  Maggie carried her coffee back into the living room, righted a picture of Melissa and brushed aside debris to make a spot for herself on the couch. Only then did she pick up the box.

  FBI

  Austin, Texas

  Her fingers skated the label, lingering over the crisp handwriting spelling out the name Maggie Chambers and her address on the label.

  Loose ends. Maggie finished her coffee, staring at the box. Not long ago, she’d have killed to have the loose ends wrapped up. Now she didn’t even know him well enough to know if he’d addressed the box himself.

  He might have died. He risked his life for you.

  She pulled the tab and dumped the contents on the couch. A cell phone. The attached sticky-note said, “speed dial one.” “Subtle, Jack,” she muttered.

  She tossed the phone back to the couch.

  Her briefcase was next, folded in half. Inside was her money—all that Kevin hadn’t squandered—and her ID. Not Jenna Cole’s ID, Margaret Ruth Chamber’s still-valid driver’s license from Connecticut. Maggie clutched the rectangle of plastic to her breast and concentrated on breathing.

  She had her life back. Life—her life—as Maggie Chambers. No more running. No more aliases. So why wasn’t she thrilled? Instead, she felt empty, like the ship she’d waited for all her life had somehow sailed without her.

  Last was a letter. Her thumb slid over the seal, but didn’t break it. She needed to be strong to face his excuses—to read how tidily he intended to wrap her up and put her away. Tears flooded her eyes; she scrubbed her cheeks angrily.

  Get a grip, Maggie.

  “I will,” she defended softly. “Real, real soon.” But not yet.

  She settled the letter on the crate and slid her still-valid driver’s license into her pocket. She’d get it transferred to Colorado tomorrow. And order telephone service. In her own name. She put the money inside the only leather pouch she had left and replaced it under the floorboards. A checking account. Maggie smiled.

  She sorted through her tumbled clothes until she found a Shipwrecks t-shirt. One of her caps was still on the peg by the front door. At twenty after nine, she walked into Shipwrecks. Derek was behind the bar, drinking his coffee and reading the newspaper. The sight was so normal it made her want to cry. He straightened when he saw her, silently taking in her changed appearance, then cast a single glance over her shoulder. He didn’t smile. “You back?”

  She nodded.

  So did he. “Good.”

  “I may have to leave, for a while—to testify. Things are kind of up in the air—”

  He cut her off. “Whatever you need. I’m glad Jack got him.” He watched her in silence for a few minutes. “What do I call you?” Her chin inched a little higher and her smile almost made her eyes. With or without Jack, there would be no more hiding. “My name is Maggie. Maggie Chambers.” She winked at him. “You can call me whatever the hell you want.”

  “Sister-in-law,” he growled and Maggie laughed.

  “She should be here in a few days—they had to do an arraignment—once she was arrested and all. There might be a trial.” “If there’s a trial, I’ll be there.”

  “She’d like that, I know. He—Jack said it won’t be more than a formality.” Not to you, he didn’t.

  She’d read the quote in the paper this morning. She blew out a quick breath. “Derek, I—” “Stuff it, Meg—Maggie. We went through that before.”

  “You saved my life.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You kept Melissa safe.”

  “Which had absolutely nothing to do with you.”

  Melissa and Derek were a good match, she realized suddenly. Melissa could teach Derek about showing his emotions. Derek could teach Melissa how deep emotions could run. Strength. Roots.

  He nodded to her wrist. “You do that on the bike?”

  “Most of it.”

  He ignored the cryptic comment. “Had it checked yet?”

  “No, I—there wasn’t any time.”

  “Let’s go.”

  She took a step backward. “No, Derek—I—”

  “You workin’ for me, Maggie Chambers?”

  She ducked her head in a quick nod.

  “Then get in the damn car.”

  He even went inside with her. She had a sneaking suspicion it was to make certain she actually had a doctor look at it. When she returned from x-ray, the nurse handed her a note. Sally’s here. See you at four.

  Maggie figured the note was the longest he’d ever written.

  As she left, she found out he’d already arranged payment for the bill. Sally took her to lunch, and then dropped her at her cabin. The silen
t phone screamed at her from the couch as soon as she closed the door. She buried it under a cushion and started cleaning. It didn’t take long—she didn’t have much. Kevin had created more chaos than actual destruction.

  At one, the phone rang, startling her. Maggie escaped into her bedroom and slammed the door, yelling at herself the whole way. The mental abuse didn’t help. The last ring echoed through her silent cabin—accusing her. Maggie eased her door open, peering into the living room as if she expected to see him suddenly there.

  Call him. . .

  “He arrested her,” she snapped back, voice unnaturally loud. “I don’t want to talk to him.” Maggie Chambers didn’t used to lie. You know the arrest was a sham.

  She did. But she still wasn’t ready to talk to Jack.

  Talk to Mama. She’s good at getting to the bottom of stuff . His voice now. Like she needed that. But she picked up the phone before she realized what she was doing. She listened for a dial tone, then shut it off. She didn’t know Josie Myles’ number. She eyed the speed dial button, sucked in a deep breath and exhaled silently. Her finger shook as she punched the digits in rapid succession. SPEED DIAL. ONE.

  She shut off the phone and threw it to the couch. “Not yet,” she whispered. Coward.

  Nothing but the truth. She just wasn’t ready to be finished with him yet. Not yet.

  At ten of four, from a cushion on the couch, the phone rang again. Maggie, already dressed for work, backed into the wall across the room and watched it with the suspicion she’d have given a ten-foot snake. When it stopped ringing, she grabbed up her keys and left. Three minutes later, she pushed open Shipwrecks’ heavy front door.

  The bar was nearly deserted, with only a couple of the back tables occupied. Derek was behind the bar again, watching the Rockies trounce the Diamondbacks in a baseball game on the muted television. His gaze went immediately to her bright purple cast.

  “Thought so,” he muttered. “Go, Rockies,” she smiled back, waving her cast at the television. “At least I don’t need surgery. I’ll have to get another cast, though, after the swelling goes down. Maybe Bronco orange.”