After a fully satisfying meal of lasagna and garlic toast, Declan thanked Grace and then drove them across town.
They stopped at a convenience store for some disguises—two baseball caps—and moved on to the Blue Gill Bar & Grill, where Moretti was scheduled to meet with someone for something. Who and what? He had no idea.
They settled into a booth at the far corner of the barroom, in full view of the entrance and exit, in case Moretti came from either direction.
The waitress took their orders and returned with two glasses of fizzy ginger ale. When she’d left, Declan cast a glance toward Grace. She’d grilled him about his prior service, and he found himself wanting to know more about this woman who’d taken on the task of finding her missing roommate with fervor and undaunted determination.
“You and Riley were roommates in college?”
Grace smiled. “For four years. We never knew our first semester together would start a life-long friendship. Even after we went our separate ways after college, we kept in touch. We led completely different lives. Like I said, I married and focused on my husband and his life. Riley focused on her career.” Grace laughed, the sound flat and strained. “Perhaps I would have been better off if I had stuck to my career.”
“How long were you married?”
“Five years.”
“And how long have you been divorced?” Declan shook his head. “You don’t have to answer. I’m just killing time until Moretti arrives.”
Though Declan gave her the out, she didn’t take it; instead, she answered, “A few years.”
“I’m sure you had good reasons.”
She snorted. “Some might not think so.”
“Try me.”
She hesitated a moment and then said softly, “I forgot who I was.”
“One of those I found myself situations?”
“Kind of.” She swirled the ice in her drink, staring at it as it circled inside her glass. “My husband always made sure I knew who he was and how important his life was to him. I spent all my time living up to his expectations of what a proper wife was supposed to be—an extension of her husband. She shouldn’t have a thought of her own—one that was not put there from her husband’s mouth.”
His lips twitched. He could imagine Grace standing up to her husband. “Let me guess...you had a thought and it pissed him off.”
“Once I remembered I was a living, breathing human being with a brain of my own, I had many thoughts. Not all reflecting him and his ideals. When we weren’t in the company of others, he would punish me for speaking out.” Grace touched the tiny scar on her cheekbone. Until that moment, Declan hadn’t noticed it.
His fists clenched. Any man who hit a woman wasn’t a man at all. He was a coward with control issues.
The scar did nothing to detract from her natural beauty. But he was certain it caused her more pain through her memories than it did when the injury had been inflicted.
“He made me feel like I deserved it,” she said. “I embarrassed him in front of his colleagues.”
Declan reached across the table and brushed his thumb along her cheek. “No man has the right to hit a woman. If you were mine, I would never raise a hand to you.” He dragged his knuckles across her jaw and down the side of her neck. “I’d treat you with the respect you deserve.”
Grace leaned her cheek into his open palm and stared into his eyes. “A girl could get used to hearing words like that, but what would it buy her? Maybe a few years of happiness, then more years of pain.”
“Not all men are the same. Not all of them cause pain.” He wanted to reassure her that his words were truth, but he wasn’t in a position in his life to guarantee that assurance. He was, more or less, a marked man. On any job application or background check, his dishonorable discharge would come up. If not for Mrs. Halverson, he’d be homeless and jobless. Out of the goodness of one wealthy woman’s heart, he wasn’t completely destitute. For now. “And now you know who you are and what you want out of life.”
“I’m me. For better or worse. And I know I want to be in control of my own destiny. I never want any man to control me ever again. Beyond that, I’m still trying to figure out what it is I’m going to do in this life. I seemed to have missed the career opportunities of a fresh college graduate. But I’m not going to let that stop me.” She gave him a tight smile. “Enough about me. What was so bad that the military thought you couldn’t be given a second chance?”
She’d come out of left field with the question. He’d been so engrossed in her story, he wasn’t ready with a canned answer. How did a man tell a beautiful woman he’d practically committed mutiny?
GRACE FIGURED SHE’D pushed again. But after baring her soul to the man, he should reveal a little more about himself to her.
Declan opened his mouth and then shut it, his gaze going past her, his jaw tightening. “Moretti just walked through the door,” he said, his voice low but intense.
Grace fought to keep from spinning around to stare at Riley’s supervisor, the man who’d lied to the police and to them. Why was the man hiding the fact Riley had been to the office that morning? Did he think he’d get away with it? Already someone from his own office had refuted his story.
Willing herself to remain facing Declan, Grace pleated the napkin in her lap and waited for Moretti to pass their table so she could watch his every move.
Her curiosity wouldn’t let her just wait. She had to know. “What’s he doing?”
Declan smiled at her, though his gaze angled over her shoulder to the man at the entrance. “He stopped at the door to look at his phone. Apparently, he just received a text message.”
“Do you think he’ll recognize us as the people he met at his office?” Grace asked.
Declan’s lips twitched. “Not with the ball cap. It shadows your face nicely.”
“As does yours.” Grace smiled. He really was nice to look at. And reassuring, just being there. She couldn’t imagine finding Riley on her own. “Thank goodness there’s something for everyone in today’s convenience stores.”
Moretti strode by and took a seat in the farthest, darkest corner of the barroom. He lifted a menu and propped it up so that all that could be seen of his face were his eyes. And they were wide and watching everyone who came into the Blue Gill.
“He’s awfully nervous.” Grace lifted her glass to her lips and took a sip.
“Yeah?” Declan’s eyes narrowed. “What’s he doing now?”
She chuckled. “Hiding behind his menu and watching the door. Anyone interesting coming from that direction?”
“Nothing so far.” Declan took her hand and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles like a man who was showing affection to his date.
Grace sucked in a breath and held it. Declan’s fingers were doing crazy things to her insides. And they were only touching her hand. She could imagine how sensuous they’d feel on other parts of her body. With considerable effort, she dragged her attention back to Moretti, afraid to look away for too long should he get up and leave without her knowing.
He was still there. Still looking over the top of his menu.
“Hmm.” Declan’s fingers tightened on hers. “My gut says the people who just walked in are interesting.”
“Should I look?”
“No, keep your eyes on Moretti. Any reaction from him over the newest arrivals?”
“He just ducked behind his menu completely. All you can see are his hands.”
“Like I said...interesting.”
“How many?”
“Three. And they look like Mafia thugs.”
“Holy hell,” Grace said. “I need to see this.” She swiveled in her seat and raised her hand, as if summoning the waitress.
Three big guys stood just inside the door. Each had dark hair, ruggedly angular faces and fists like ham hocks.
The waitress nodded at Grace and raised one finger. “I’ll be with you in just a minute.” She walked to the men at the door and offered to seat them.
They shoved her aside and stalked through the barroom, the leader’s dark brow low on his forehead.
At that moment, Grace’s cell phone jingled with the tone she’d assigned to incoming texts. Giving only a perfunctory glance at the screen, Grace didn’t want to take her attention away from the drama about to unfold. But the words on the screen made her do a double take.
GET OUT!
The hairs on the back of Grace’s neck stood at attention. The text had come from an unknown number. She stared at it for a moment and then passed the phone to Declan. “What do you make of this? It’s the same message Riley had written on her notepad.”
The jingle sounded again and another text came through.
Declan held the cell phone in his hand this time.
GET OUT NOW!
The three big guys chose that minute to pass their table, heading for the corner where Moretti hunkered low behind his menu.
Declan pushed to his feet, grabbed Grace’s hand and yanked her out of her chair.
“What are you doing?” she said softly.
“I’m getting you out of here so that I can ravish your body,” he said and waggled his brows. “The sooner the better.” He didn’t wait for her response, but tossed cash on the table and then half led, half dragged her out of the bar and into the street.
As soon as they cleared the door, gunshots rang out behind them.
Declan pulled Grace to the side of the door and pressed his body over hers, sandwiching her between himself and a brick wall.
With her face pressed to his muscular chest, Grace couldn’t see anything. Her heart raced and her hands circled his waist, holding him close. Whoever was shooting hadn’t run out of ammunition yet.
Declan lifted his head and glanced around. Shielding her body with his, he walked her to the entrance of an apartment building, opened the door and shoved her inside. He pointed at her. “Stay.”
Grace grabbed his finger and glared at him. “I’m not a dog. You can’t tell me to stay.”
“Please stay,” he amended. “I don’t want you to be caught in the crossfire.”
When he turned and started to walk out of the apartment entrance, she grabbed his arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Back to see if I can help.”
“Help who?” Grace said. “Moretti? The Mafia? You’re not even armed, are you?”
He pulled a handgun from beneath his jacket. “Charlie loaned me this.”
Grace reeled backward, shocked that he’d been carrying the weapon throughout the day and she hadn’t known he had it. “Are you even licensed to carry?”
“I am...was...before I was discharged from the army.”
“Do they revoke licenses to carry from people who are discharged from the army?”
“I don’t know,” Declan said. “But I have it if I need it.” He replaced it in the holster beneath his jacket. “I’m going back in. There are other people in there who might need help.”
“Then I’m going with you,” Grace insisted.
Declan shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. You’re not a trained soldier. I am.”
“And don’t most trained soldiers have buddies to cover their sixes?” She lifted her chin. “I’ve watched all those special-forces movies. I know you’re supposed to have someone cover your back. Well, I’m your buddy. I’ll cover your back.”
“And you’re armed?” Declan challenged.
Grace dug around in her purse and pulled out a Taser. “This is my weapon. And I’m not afraid to use it.”
Declan frowned and glanced over his shoulder. “I need to go back in there. But I don’t trust that you’ll stay out of harm’s way.”
“Damn right I won’t.” She pushed past him. “Come on. The longer we wait, the more chance someone is getting hurt.”
Declan snatched her hand and pulled her behind him. “You can’t cover my back if you’re not behind me. At least stay low and well to my rear until I figure out what’s going on. Promise?”
He held on to her hand, refusing to let her move until she agreed.
“Okay,” she said. “I promise to stay back behind you.”
After another second, Declan moved, jogging back to the entrance of the bar. The sound of sirens wailed in the distance. “I’m going in. Stay out here and let me know if any other bad guys show up. And when the police get here, let them know there are innocent people inside.”
“But I’m your backup. I should go in with you.”
“Seriously, I need to go in first and make sure it’s safe.”
“And if it’s not, and they shoot you, how am I to know?”
“Hell, Grace, if I’m worried about you, I’ll get myself killed.”
She clamped her lips shut on the words she was about to say. He had a good point. “Okay. I get it. I don’t want to distract you from doing what you do best.” She flung her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his in a brief, hard kiss. “Concentrate on staying alive.”
He nodded. “I will, if I can have more of that.”
“Incentive, man. There’s more where that came from, but you have to come out alive to collect.” She winked and stood to the side of the door into the bar that had gone eerily quiet. “Be careful.”
“I will.” Declan dove into the bar.
Grace counted to ten, feeling like a child playing a dangerous game of hide-and-seek. At ten, she still hadn’t heard anything from inside, and she could barely breathe.
Letting the air out of her lungs slowly, she pushed back her shoulders, ducked low and slipped through the entrance. Using the techniques she’d learned from cop movies and reality television, she moved quickly to one side and crouched in the shadows.
Soft sobbing sounded from behind the bar. Two men lay on the floor behind an overturned table, peering out from the sides of the tabletop.
Grace’s gaze went to the far corner, where Moretti had been hiding behind his menu. The corner was empty, and Moretti, the Mafia thugs and Declan were gone.
The bartender rose up from behind the counter, a full bottle of unopened white wine held in his hand like a hammer.
The waitress crawled out from under an overturned chair, her mascara running in dark lines down her cheeks, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. She sniffed and looked around. When she spotted Grace, she whispered, “Is it safe to come out?”
“I don’t know. Where did the big guys go?” Grace asked.
The waitress pointed. “Through the back door.”
Grace hurried toward the rear of the building, her pulse thumping through her veins, her knees wobbling. Where was Declan? Surely he hadn’t chased after the bad guys. They outnumbered and outgunned him three to one.
The rear emergency exit stood open. Grace eased up to the door and stuck her head around slowly.
The alley behind the bar stood empty, but for the big trash bin.
Her heart fluttered. Grace saw no sign of the Mafia brothers or Declan. It was as if they’d disappeared entirely. Had Declan surprised them as they got into their escape vehicle? Would they have knocked him unconscious and taken him with them? If so, would they kill him and dump his body in the Potomac?
She stepped out of the building and walked toward the corner. As she passed the trash bin, a faint sound caught her attention. She stopped and strained to hear it again. A groan sounded from inside the bin.
Grace leaned over the top and peered inside. The smell of rotting food and moldy trash hit her first. Then something moved among the boxes, bottles, cans and leftover food.
She pulled her cell phone out of her purse, hit the flashlight icon on the screen and shined the light down into the refuse.
Moretti lay among the trash, his body covered in blood.
The shock of her discovery made her stomach roil and bile rise up her throat. She stepped away from the bin and glanced down at her cell phone, her hand shaking so badly, she could barely function. Then she dialed 911 and gave her location. “There’s a man with multiple gunshot wounds in the trash bin behind the building.”
The dispatcher told her to seek safety until the police arrived. They already had an ambulance on the way.
By the time she finished the call, police officers emerged through the back door of the bar, weapons drawn.
Grace raised her hands. “I’m not armed. But there’s a man in the bin. I think he’s still alive.”
An officer pulled her aside and frisked her. When they were certain she wasn’t carrying a weapon, they made her go back through the bar and stand out on the street, in the midst of several squad cars. Still Declan hadn’t returned.
The ambulance came and the EMTs loaded Moretti onto a gurney and carried him away to a hospital. Grace had about given up on Declan when she spotted him standing on the periphery of the small crowd gathering around the crime scene.
Her joy at seeing him surprised even herself. Afraid the police would pull Declan in for questioning and discover he had a weapon on him, Grace didn’t rush over to see him. She asked the officer in charge if they needed her anymore. They had her information and knew how to get in touch with her.
The officer told her she could leave as long as she remained in town in case they needed to ask her more questions.
Finally, Grace left the center of the investigation and walked away from the bar to where they’d left her SUV a couple of blocks away, in a paid parking lot.
Declan was there, waiting for her.
Grace walked straight into his arms.
He engulfed her in his embrace and held her for a long moment.
She inhaled the warm, musky scent of his aftershave and ran her fingers across the hard plains of his chest. He really was there. He hadn’t abandoned her.
“I told you to stay out front.” He smoothed the hair back from her forehead and pressed a kiss there.
“It was so quiet. I couldn’t stand outside, not knowing what was happening.”
“I see they found Moretti. Where was he?” Declan asked.
“In the trash bin behind the building.” She leaned back and stared up at him. “Where were you?”
“When I went into the bar, I saw that Moretti and the thugs were gone. Since we came out the front and they didn’t, I figured they’d exited out the back. I ran through and got to the back door as a dark SUV pulled away. I thought they might have taken Moretti. I wanted to get a license plate number so we could trace the vehicle, so I ran after it.”
“You ran after their getaway vehicle?” Grace laughed and shook her head. “Are you crazy?”
He ran a hand through his hair, retaining his hold around her waist with the other hand. “Yeah. I am a little crazy.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out. “They weaved through the streets. I knew I couldn’t catch up with them by running behind them, so I cut through some alleys and side streets. I almost caught up when they got onto a main road and sped up.” He sighed. “I lost them.”
“Did you get the license number?” Grace asked.
His lips twisted. “No.” He nodded in the direction the ambulance had gone. “What about Moretti?”
“The EMTs got him out of that trash bin and took him in the ambulance, but I don’t know how he is. He was a bloody mess, with multiple gunshot wounds. I’ll be surprised if he lives.”
“Think we can get into the hospital to ask him some questions?”
“The man is possibly dying.”
Declan raised his hands, palms up. “Haven’t you heard? Dying men tell no lies.”
Grace shook her head. “That’s dead men tell no lies. I asked the ambulance driver which hospital they were taking him to. We could at least get a status on the man.”
“And if we play our cards right, I can slip past security and ask him about Riley.” He brushed her arm with the back of his knuckles.
His touch set off a flock of butterflies in Grace’s belly. She swallowed hard and lectured herself on falling for a stranger. Declan was making it entirely too easy. “You don’t give up, do you?”
His smile slipped. “Not when it’s important.”
Grace nodded. “We’d better get going. Moretti might not live long enough for us to get any information out of him.”
“Now you’re talking.” He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. “Let’s go.” Then he opened the passenger door and held it while she slipped in. He rounded the front of the vehicle and slid behind the steering wheel.
Grace keyed the name of the hospital into her cell phone’s map application and brought up the directions.
They arrived several minutes later and pulled into the parking lot of the emergency room. Grace and Declan got out and walked to where the ambulances unloaded patients.
Two police cars were parked nearby. An ambulance had just left the dock when another pulled in.
“Might be difficult getting in to see Moretti if he’s still in Emergency,” Declan said.
“I have an idea. I’ll create a distraction, and you slip in.” Grace hurried toward the ER entrance where they were wheeling an old woman through the sliding doors. “Excuse me, excuse me,” she called out as if attempting to get the attention of the paramedics already inside the hospital.
Her real goal was the ambulance driver, a guy the size of a refrigerator, who stepped in front of her, his arms crossed. “I’m sorry, ma’am, you can’t enter the ER through the ambulance entrance, you’ll have to go through the ER reception.”
“But that’s my grandmother. I have to stay with her.”
“Lady—” the man shook his head, his lips pressing together briefly “—you have to go through the other entrance. The receptionist will help you once you check in.”
“But she raised me when my mother abandoned me. She’s all I have!” She stood on her toes in an attempt to see past him to the woman on the gurney headed down the hall. “I promised I’d stay with her. She’ll be scared.”
“She’s unconscious,” the ambulance driver said. “You’ll have time to check in with reception.”
“Oh, my God. Grannie!” Grace dodged to one side.
The driver clotheslined her with a beefy arm, catching her in the throat.
Grace played it and dropped to the ground, clutching at her neck. She held her breath and pointed at her throat, mouthing the words can’t breathe.
“Oh, come on,” the ambulance driver said. “I didn’t hit you. You ran into my arm.” He bent and held out his hand. “Take my hand. I’ll help you up.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Grace could see the EMTs with the gurney had made it down the hallway with the old lady and Declan had circled wide, coming around the other side of the ambulance. He was about to step through the doors when the ambulance driver straightened and started to turn to where his teammates had gone.
Grace had to do something, or the man would see Declan slipping through the door. She reached out and grabbed the driver’s hand, bringing his focus back to her.
He pulled her to her feet, his brow dipping low. “Are you all right?” he asked.
She would be as soon as Declan made it inside. Grace swallowed hard.
And Declan was inside, the door closing behind him.
Letting go of the breath she’d held, she nodded. “I think I’ll be okay.” She gave the driver a weak smile. “I’ll just go in through the main ER entrance, like you said. I’m sorry I caused such a commotion.”
“Don’t worry.” He patted her arm. “They’ll take good care of your grandmother. I’m sorry I had to be so stern with you, but it’s against policy to let unauthorized personnel in through the back door.”
“I understand. You were just doing your job.” Grace brushed the dirt off her clothes, turned toward the main entrance to the ER and left the ambulance driver to close up the ambulance and wait for his team to return.
Now all she could do was wait for Declan to resurface, hopefully with some clues or information from Moretti.
She fished her cell phone from her pocket and stared down at the messages she’d received prior to the shoot-out between the three Mafia guys and Moretti.
GET OUT
GET OUT NOW!
Who had sent the messages? Could it have been Riley? Had she been somewhere close by and seen the three men coming in? Or was it the people who’d warned Riley to get out of her office?
The more Grace learned, the more she realized she didn’t know.
She prayed Declan would find out something from Moretti. If not, they had very little to go on and still had no idea where Riley was. One thing was clear: if what had happened to Moretti was any indication, Riley was in danger.