Cavanaugh Heat Page 16

  Anger at the violation smothered her feelings of vulnerability. "What do they want?" she cried.

  "We haven't figured that part out yet," Brian confessed.

  She knew him inside and out, despite the long gap that had transpired between her leaving the force and her seeking him out. "There's something more, isn't there?"

  Brian paused, sincerely debating how much he should reveal. After a beat, he told her only what she needed to know immediately.

  "Someone set fire to the house." He saw her mouth drop open as she stared at him in shock. "The fire department saved most of it." he assured her quickly. "Only the kitchen and part of the family room were destroyed."

  But she only heard one thing. That the fire had been deliberately set. "Someone tried to kill me?"

  He hated not being able to shield her, hated having to expose her to something so brutal. Dealing with the underbelly of life on a day-to-day basis was one thing. Having it spill over into your personal life was quite another.

  "Looks that way," he answered grimly, then added quickly, "look, the second they release you, you're coming home with me."

  Her shoulders locked rigidly and Brian was infinitely familiar with the pose she struck. Lila, being stubborn. "I'm not going into hiding."

  Another time, he might have indulged her, might have let her talk, but he'd come too close to losing her. That was not about to happen again.

  "Lila, there is no arguing," he told her firmly. "I won't have you sitting in your house with a target on your body."

  She knew that tone. She was going to have to let him wind down before she could convince him to let up. And then a thought hit her out of nowhere. The last thing she remembered was crawling into bed. The gap between there and here was huge.

  "Who rescued me?" she asked.

  "I did," he said simply. He had his story in place about how he'd called to ask her something and began to worry when she didn't answer. She didn't need to know about the lab's DNA findings just yet.

  Lila started to ask how he'd happened to have been in the right place at the right time when the door to her room suddenly opened. Zack, Taylor, Riley and Frank all burst in together, talking at once. Brian moved aside to give them room.

  For now, he thought, somewhat relieved, their conversation was tabled. The cavalry had arrived.

  * * * * *

  Lila insisted on going back to work the next day. He let her win the argument, but not the one that involved her going back to her house, even for a few minutes. Instead, he brought her back to his house again, telling her that anything she needed, he could pick up for her. Used to independence, she bristled at that.

  Brian remained steadfast. Lila gave in—for the time being, she underscored.

  "Good enough for me," he told her.

  They had supper and quiet conversation. But when Lila suggested that they watch an old favorite movie running on one of the cable stations, Brian surprised her with his answer.

  "I'd love to, Lila, but I can't. I've got to go out again."

  Lila stared at him, stunned. "You're going out?" she demanded as he crossed to the front door.

  "Just for a while," he assured her. He was confident that she would be safe here. Especially since he'd asked Jared to keep an eye on the house for him. "I've got an off-the-clock meeting with someone from the D.E.A."

  She was immediately alert. The D.E.A. had been involved in the operation that had gone all wrong and supposedly gotten Ben and his partner killed. "Is it about Ben?"

  He wanted to keep her safe. And the only way he had a prayer of accomplishing that was by capturing a man who was supposed to have died over three years ago. That meant lying to her. He tried to keep it down to a minimum and hoped that she'd forgive him when she finally found out.

  "I can't talk about it yet." That much was true. "As soon as I can, I will," he promised her. He paused to take her into his arms. "Why don't you give one of your kids a call, have them come over to keep you company?"

  She resented the fact that he thought she needed a keeper. She'd been caught napping once, it wouldn't happen again. "I'm not some invalid, Brian. Please don't treat me like one."

  In her place, he'd probably react the same way. But he wasn't in her place, and he'd move heaven and earth to make sure nothing happened to her. "Invalids aren't the only ones who like company," he told her evenly. "I hear mothers like it, too."

  He was right, she thought. She was acting like a shrew. "I'm sorry, I'm just edgy," she apologized. "Have you heard any news about the DNA?"

  It took everything he had not to avoid her eyes. They would have given away the truth.

  "Not yet." He hated lying but he knew her. If he told her the truth, that the man in Ben's coffin wasn't Ben, then she'd make the same assumptions he had. And she'd want to go with him because she'd immediately guess that he wasn't meeting anyone from the D.E.A.

  And he wasn't. He was planning on staking out her place. He was positive all this had something to do with the house. All the pieces pointed toward getting her out and keeping her out. Why?

  He could only come to one conclusion. If he was right, then Ben would go back to the house until he got what he wanted. Now that she had finally vacated the premises, nothing stopped Ben.

  And he didn't want Lila anywhere near the house when Ben came back.

  Resigned, Lila sighed. "Will you be gone long?"

  He lingered at the door. "Hard to say. You know these D.E.A. types, they don't always show when they say they will. I might have to wait for him."

  Lila nodded, familiar with the breed. She threaded her arms around his neck, "Give me a call if you're going to be very late." Rising on her toes, she brushed her lips against his cheek, loving him more than she could ever say. "Stay safe."

  "Always," he promised. "And call someone. I'd feel better if I knew you weren't alone." He hesitated, debating on whether or not to tell her that Jared would be watching over her. He decided to gauge her reaction first. "If you don't want to call one of them, I can have one of my sons—"

  Lila cut him off. "Not to worry," No way was she going to inconvenience one of his family with a babysitting detail. "I'll call Zack or Taylor, or maybe the whole bunch."

  "Even better," he told her with a smile.

  He'd already released her and was on his way out the door when he doubled back, took her into his arms and kissed her again, long and hard.

  "Wow," she breathed as she tried to get her bearings once he drew back. Her bones were melting. "Is that supposed to hold me until you get back?"

  "No," he told her honestly, "that's supposed to hold me until I get back. I love you."

  And then he left before she could say anything. Left her to wonder why he'd said it with so much emotion throbbing behind the words.

  It wasn't like him.

  * * * * *

  Last night, the fire department and a large gathering of neighbors had been all over the general vicinity of the house. If anyone other than the fire department had attempted to enter, it wouldn't have gone unnoticed. But tonight was a completely different story.

  The neighborhood had reverted back to its peaceful state. Occasionally, the headlights of a car would slice through the darkness, but as the hours crept by, fewer and fewer vehicles passed the house. Fewer people to notice anything out of the ordinary.

  Brian figured that Ben was counting on that.

  He sat in the living room with the lights off, the smell of the extinguished fire all around him. He hardly noticed. He was listening for the sound of someone trying to come in.

  A little after midnight he began to think this was a wild-goose chase, that Ben's only purpose was to scare Lila as an act of revenge because she'd gone on with her life. He debated calling it a night and just going home. After all, Lila was waiting for him.

  And then he heard something. Not from within the house, but outside. The window he'd broken in order to get in last night made it easy to hear the sounds of the night.

&n
bsp; Someone or something was out in the detached garage.

  Any sleepiness he might have felt instantly evaporated. Brian took out his weapon and slowly made his way outside. The noise he'd heard continued. It sounded like a sledgehammer coming in contact with a hard substance.

  Concrete?

  Gun at the ready, Brian slowly approached the garage. A low light seeped out from beneath the door. He was right. Someone was in there.

  * * *

  Chapter 16

  « ^ »

  Where was he?

  Dropping the corner of the drape, Lila moved away from the window. At this rate, she would wear a path across the carpet from the living room sofa to the bay window. For the umpteenth time, she'd thought she heard Brian's car approaching.

  Lila dashed back to the window. This time it was one of the neighbors down the block, coming home late.

  Late.

  It was past eleven and Brian was now officially more than just a little late. He was a lot late. For a fleeting moment she debated calling him on his cell, then abandoned that idea. She didn't want him thinking she needed her man to account for every moment spent out of her sight. She wasn't trying to keep him on a short leash. That wasn't her way.

  Lila ran her hand along the back of her neck. Not one but all four of her children had shown up tonight with one vague excuse or another to check up on her. She appreciated it and while they were here, distracting her, that small, nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach faded. But now that she was alone, it was back. She'd been wrestling with her nerves for the past forty-five minutes, ever since Frank had gone home. Something was wrong.

  When she and Brian had been partners, she'd learned to trust those feelings, to go with them. It was like having a sixth sense. She had to admit the alarm in her hadn't gone off in a long time, but now here it was, whispering in her ear, telling her that something was off.

  She was letting her imagination run away with her. Ever since she'd begun to entertain the possibility that Ben wasn't dead.

  Closing her eyes, she ran her hands up and down her arms, as if that would somehow help her shed this feeling. It wouldn't go.

  Go to bed, she ordered herself. Who knew how long Brian would be gone and she did have work in the morning. She should be sleeping, not pacing and watching for cars.

  Lila sighed. Who was she kidding? She couldn't sleep, not when she was keyed up like this. No way in hell was she going to resort to her old remedy and drink a glass of warm milk. Right about now she doubted if she would ever be able to face another glass of milk— warm or cold—again.

  Okay, no milk. Then what?

  Maybe she could read herself to sleep, Lila thought. That had worked more than once, even if the book she was reading was one of those exciting, edge-of-your-seat kind of thrillers. Two pages and she'd be gone. Three, tops.

  Lila frowned. That sounded good, but the problem was, she had no books with her. But Brian did, she recalled suddenly. She knew for a fact that he had several shelves' worth of bestselling mysteries as well as a slew of technical books dealing with the latest advances in police procedures. She smiled to herself. Now there was something that was guaranteed to put her to sleep.

  Feeling hopeful, trying her best to squelch the uneasy feeling, she made her way to Brian's den.

  It was at the rear of the house. The door was open but the lights were off.

  She peered in for a moment.

  Next you're going to be afraid of monsters in the closet, she mocked herself.

  After flipping on the light switch, she crossed to the shelves on the right. Brian kept his mysteries there, his nonfiction books on the shelves on the left. Between the two bookcases was his desk, a scarred, highly polished piece that had originally belonged to his grandfather. It was Brian's favorite piece of furniture. He'd told her that he could remember hiding under the desk as a boy, spinning scenarios of bravery in his head. He'd been thrilled when his grandfather had willed it to him.

  Lila smiled. She could almost see Brian now, sitting on the black, swivel, high-back chair, poring over some case file—just like the one that was carelessly tossed on it now.

  As she passed, Lila accidentally hit a corner of the file with her hip. The slender manila-colored file did a half turn and fell from the desk onto the floor. The two sheets that had been housed inside slipped out.

  "Getting clumsy in your old age, Lila, my girl," she muttered under her breath. With a sigh, she bent down and picked up the folder and the sheets.

  Neatly printed words across the top of the first sheet caught her attention. Instead of putting the sheets back into the folder, she began to read first one, then the other.

  And when she was finished, she reread them. Twice.

  It took several minutes for her heart to stop pounding so wildly in her chest. But that was only because the pounding had moved up to her ears.

  * * * * *

  There were no windows looking into the garage, no way for Brian to see in or get a heads-up as to where the intruder was in relation to the side door. He only had the sound of the sledgehammer to guide him.

  Holding his breath, he waited for the next burst of noise, hoping there would be more.

  He didn't have long to wait.

  One hand on the doorknob, his gun ready in the other, Brian eased open the side door. As he'd hoped, the intruder wasn't close. Swinging the sledgehammer, the man was making contact with the rear wall.

  Completing the swing, he broke through. The plasterboard beneath the thin veneer of concrete gave way. A gaping hole exposed a pocket of space. Approximately a foot beyond it was another wall.

  Most likely the true wall, Brian thought.

  Brian's eyes immediately shifted back to the intruder. He saw the man's profile.

  Damn.

  "So I was right." As he said it, the last of his disbelief slipped away. "You are still alive."

  Startled, Ben spun around, surprise and anger stamped on his face.

  Brian caught his breath. Even in the dim light, Lila's husband looked far more than merely three years older. His face was a mask of lines and leather. The malevolent expression in Ben's dark eyes bore into him. He was still clutching the sledgehammer.

  "Put down the hammer," Brian ordered, his voice rumbling across the stillness.

  Ben made no move to obey. Instead, for a moment, his face appeared to soften. As if Ben knew something about him that he didn't.

  He nodded toward the hole he'd just made. "There's more than enough here," Ben told him. "You could be richer than your wildest dreams."

  Brian wasn't even remotely tempted. Money had never meant that much to him. At most, it was a way to take care of his own.

  "What makes a man rich isn't something you can stuff behind a wall, Mclntyre."

  Despite the gun, Ben sneered at him. "Don't give me that crap, Cavanaugh. That was the kind of stuff that Lila would spout." The laugh that escaped his lips was dark, threatening. "But then, I guess if you've been sleeping with her, it probably rubbed off." His thin lips spread out in a cold, nasty smile. "How about that, Cavanaugh? You finally got to sleep with my wife the way you wanted to all these years." He raised his chin in a pugnacious, silent challenge. "So, how's it feel? Good? Does she make you feel good?"

  Brian had no intentions of dignifying the taunt with an answer. "Is this why you've been playing mind games with her?" he demanded, indicating the hole Ben had made. "To get her to leave so you could come and finally get the money you stashed there?" All this time, he thought, the money had been right under their noses. Who would have thought it?

  Ben's eyes narrowed. "She was supposed to sell the damn house. She always said she'd sell it once the kids moved out. I even had Ri—someone come by and offer to buy it from her. Made her a damn good offer for the lousy place. But she said she wasn't selling. She always was perverse," he bit off.

  The near slip had caught Brian's attention. So Ben was working with a partner. Who? He was going to have to ask Lila if
she remembered the name of the person who'd approached her about buying the house.

  "So when she wouldn't sell, you decided to burn it down instead and kill her in the process? What the hell happened to you, Mclntyre?" Brian spat out. "You used to be a decent cop."

  "Don't you judge me," Ben warned. "Don't you stand there like some high-and-mighty king and judge me. And no, damn it, I didn't try to burn it down. I wouldn't kill Lila. Rita did that. Rita and her damn jealousy because she thought I was still in love with Lila."

  "Rita," Brian repeated the name. No image came to mind. "Is that your accomplice?"

  A haughty look came into Ben's eyes. "I guess I can satisfy your curiosity, seeing as how one of us is not leaving here alive." His hands tightened around the sledgehammer. "Walker and I were double-crossed. Funny, right? The double agent was double-crossed. The drug cartel's man killed Walker, damn near killed me before I shot him. He was my height, close to my coloring. I figured I had to disappear because his pals would be after me. So I took his clothes and gave him mine. Gave him my wedding ring, too."

  "And the teeth?"

  "Smashed in as insurance. I figured you'd think I was tortured." That was exactly what they did think, Brian recalled. "Rita's the one who saved my life, gave me a place to stay while I healed. It took all this time before we were finally ready and I could get the money back." The angry frustration rose in his voice. "If she hadn't been so damn jealous of Lila, all this could have gone off without a hitch." He cursed the woman roundly. "The bitch almost ruined everything."

  "Where is she now?" Brian asked, taking care not to have his back to the door.

  Ben's eyes narrowed to slits. "She brought it on herself," was his answer.

  He'd killed her, Brian thought. Maybe, in his own way, Mclntyre still did love Lila. But that changed nothing.

  "Put that hammer down," Brian ordered again. He cocked his weapon, aiming the barrel straight at Ben. "Now."