Mac's Angels Page 14

  As they drove through the city, Conner focused his attention on the mountain. There’d be no ride up the Incline Railroad this trip. On Christmas Eve they probably shut the sightseeing down early anyway.

  Erica directed him along the river to the long, curving road leading up. Already darkness covered the mountain like a gauzy cape. The lights of the Christmas decorations peeked through the low-hanging clouds like pieces of costume jewelry.

  Conner drove slowly because he was beginning to think that he had a concussion. His vision blurred occasionally, forcing him to blink repeatedly to clear away the fuzzy spots. The tension inside the van increased steadily as they snaked upward.

  “Faster,” Karl said.

  “This isn’t easy,” Conner argued gently. “The road is narrow and the fog is rolling in. I don’t think you want me to drive off the side of the mountain, do you?”

  At that moment they came to an open space, where the trees, bare of leaves, looked as if they’d been poked into the side of the hill like picks in a dead floral arrangement. The entire valley was visible below. There were no guard rails and no wide shoulders to protect a vehicle.

  Karl cleared his throat.

  “Drive carefully, Conner,” the ambassador said. “Be quiet, Karl. You’re too close now to blow it with impatience.”

  Karl gave the ambassador a quick look and let out a long breath. “Just get us there.”

  Finally, they reached the top and, with Erica’s instructions, the street on which she lived. Navigating was made more difficult by cars parked along its side. This was Christmas Eve, the time for family dinners and out of town company. They’d have to be careful not to catch an innocent bystander in the showdown.

  And that was what Conner was preparing for—a showdown. He wasn’t sure about the ambassador, but he and the doctor had to overpower two men who expected to find the location of a treasure worth millions of dollars.

  He pulled the van into the narrow space in front of the garage and killed the engine. “Well, there are no lights inside, Erica. I guess we can assume that we’re celebrating Christmas alone.”

  “Give Kilgore the key,” Ernst instructed. “We’ll wait here until you check it out.”

  “Wait a minute,” Kilgore argued. “I told you I wanted out. I’m not going in there by myself. Suppose—”

  Ernst waved the gun. “I said, check it out.”

  “I’ll go with you,” the ambassador said, sliding the van door open and climbing down slowly.

  Kilgore followed. “Great. A lot of help you’ll be if someone is waiting for us.”

  Erica gave out a little sound of impatience. “There is no one in the house. Who would be there?”

  Moments later the door opened and light poured through every window.

  Conner hadn’t known what to expect, but he was disappointed when Kilgore called out, “Everything’s clear.”

  Ernst stepped out and once again grabbed Erica by the arm. “You walk with me, Erica. Just so Mr. Preston doesn’t get any fancy ideas. We don’t want anybody else shot, do we?”

  So much for Conner’s plan to shove Erica inside and take Karl outside the door. He and the doctor stepped into the foyer and moved toward the study at the back of the house. Kilgore was studying the fireplace. “Damn, it’s cold in here. Where’s the thermostat?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Ernst snapped. “We aren’t going to be here long enough for that. Get in the middle of the room—all of you.” He continued to hold Erica as the others complied. “Now, you get the book, Erica.”

  She’d run out of time. Mac hadn’t been able to help. There was nothing to do but admit the truth. “I don’t have it.”

  Ernst lifted the gun. “No more stalling, Ms. Fallon.” He took off the safety and pointed it at Conner.

  “That’s enough, Karl.” The ambassador stepped between Ernst and the others. “So far nobody has been killed. You can’t let this go any further.”

  Ernst shook off the ambassador’s words. “What do you mean, I can’t go any further? I’m not taking any more orders from you. None of this has worked out like you planned. And I’m not taking the blame for shooting anybody.”

  Erica gasped. “You, Mr. Ambassador? I don’t believe that. You were shot!”

  The diplomat let out a shallow breath and nodded. “I’m afraid so, Erica. A necessary action, meant to make you understand the seriousness of our request. It was either you or me. I’m very sorry it had to come to this, Erica, but I’d like the book now.”

  Conner wished he could save Erica from what was coming. But it had to play itself out. “How’d they get to you, Ambassador? From what I’ve learned, you’re a man easily led, but a servant of the people involved in international theft? Is that a new part of your diplomatic job description?”

  “Job description?” The old man spat out bitterly. “Where in the job description does it tell you what you’re supposed to do when your life’s work is suddenly taken away, and you’re offered retirement or reassignment to a nothing little country that nobody has ever heard of?”

  “I always believed you cared about me,” Erica said softly.

  “I did. I still do. In spite of Karl’s contention otherwise, I was satisfied that you didn’t know about Bart’s discovery.”

  Conner didn’t like the sound of the diplomat’s voice. It was thready and weak. Even in the watery light, Conner could see that his color was ashen. Ambassador Collins had become a desperate old man who was past being a threat. Still, Conner couldn’t let up now.

  “So when did this unholy alliance with Kilgore and Ernst begin?” Conner asked.

  “What difference does it make now?” He propped himself on the table at the end of the couch. “Karl has been searching for the hiding place ever since Bart turned over the piece of broken marble. He identified it immediately as being from a statue stolen from a church in Italy. But Bart swore there was nothing else in that passage.”

  Erica gave a troubled laugh. “He was right. Conner and I were there when he found the marble. That was all we found.”

  She noticed the doctor moving back into the shadows and slowly toward the table where Kilgore stood. She needed to keep the two men talking. “You knew about Bart’s black book from the beginning, didn’t you, Ambassador Collins? And it was your idea for those men to pretend to be Green Berets and kidnap me.”

  “Yes. I knew about the book,” the ambassador admitted. “I’m very sorry, Erica. I never intended for anyone to be hurt. Then those fools Karl hired got trigger-happy and Bart was killed.”

  “Hah, let anybody prove it,” Karl said.

  The ambassador took a weary breath and continued. “Conner was gone and though we searched everywhere, the book had disappeared.”

  “And that’s the real reason you hired me to work for you,” Erica said. “You were still looking for Bart’s notes.”

  “In the beginning, yes.”

  Conner couldn’t take a chance on moving. The doctor was almost even with the ambassador. Just a few more seconds. “What about Kilgore’s part in all this?” Conner asked.

  Karl snorted. “Kilgore’s a fool. The statue had to go to somebody who had the money to buy it. We knew he wouldn’t ask questions when we told him that it came from Shadow. And we also knew he wouldn’t be able to resist showing it off. We counted on somebody coming forward with the truth.”

  “A fool?” Kilgore rushed toward Karl. “What do you mean, a fool?”

  This time there was no storm, no lights, only whatever expertise Conner had spent years developing. Before anybody knew that he’d moved, he caught Ernst’s hand, closing around the gun and shoving it toward the ceiling. But the man was stronger than he looked. He let Erica go and turned toward Conner, elbowing him in the chest. As they struggled, both men went down. The gun fired and fell to the floor.

  Erica screamed.

  “Run, Erica!” Conner yelled as he fell on top of Ernst. “Call 911.”

  “I’ve got this one,” the
doctor called out as he twisted Kilgore’s arm behind him.

  But Ernst wasn’t ready to give up. He kneed Conner in the groin and managed to crawl away. Just as he reached for the gun, Conner put him out with a karate chop to the neck. In a matter of seconds it was all over.

  Erica knelt by the ambassador, who lay on the floor, moaning.

  “I’m so sorry, Erica,” the old man said. “I never meant this to happen. I just wanted to go back to Berlin. If I found the artifacts, they’d have to reward me.”

  “About Bart’s notes, Ambassador,” she asked. “Are you convinced that there really was a book with the location of the treasure?”

  “Yes, Erica. There really was. I saw it.” He gasped and closed his eyes. The front of his shirt was seeping blood.

  Erica raised her eyes to meet Conner’s. “I think you’d better come over here, Doctor. Karl’s shot hit the ambassador. That is, if you’re really a doctor.”

  “I’m really a doctor,” he said, turning to the man lying prostrate on the Oriental rug.

  Erica, still shaking at the possibility of what could have happened, folded her arms across her chest and held on to her elbows.

  “So where did Kilgore get the statue?” she asked.

  “From me,” the ambassador replied in a thready voice. “The night that Bart came to see me, he brought not only his book, but two statues that proved his claim. He left this one with me for safekeeping. Then he was killed, and the secret hiding place died with him.”

  Erica looked at the ambassador with sadness in her eyes. “It was you all the time. You knew Mr. Kilgore had tried to hire Shadow to look for the treasure. You just didn’t know that Shadow had turned him down. So you had the statue sent to Brighton in Shadow’s name. Then Professor Ernst authenticated its history—all so that Brighton would fund your committee. The committee would make the search legitimate enough to smoke out the diary, either from me or Preston.”

  Conner shook his head. “So many things could have gone wrong. How could you believe your plan would work?”

  Ernst groaned and struggled to sit up, leaning his back against the wall. “It did work. That book is out there somewhere. I would have found it if it weren’t for you, Preston.”

  At that moment, flashing blue lights and sirens sounded outside the door, announcing the arrival of the police and an ambulance.

  The police explained that the house had been wired. They’d been listening to everything that had happened. Conner turned over Ernst’s gun while Ernst and Kilgore were placed under arrest. The paramedics loaded the ambassador into the ambulance. At the last moment, one of the officers shoved Conner into the departing vehicle.

  “No!” Erica shouted. “I’m coming with you.”

  As the door was closing, Conner called out to Erica, “Wait here for me. I’ll be back.”

  The caravan of blinking lights snaked back down the road, leaving Erica alone on top of the mountain. She looked out at the moon peeking through the clouds and felt a drop of moisture roll down her face.

  It was Christmas Eve and she was alone.

  TWELVE

  Erica glanced at the clock over the mantel for the hundredth time. It was almost three o’clock in the morning. Mac had called to say that the report from the hospital was good, but Conner had been gone for over three hours.

  “Idiot. You know that hospitals insist on keeping a patient with a concussion overnight.”

  But he could have called.

  He wasn’t going to call. He’d protected her as Mac had asked him to do and he’d found out what happened to Bart. She’d never see him again. Why should she expect to?

  But, dammit, he cared about her. Oh, he hadn’t said the words, but she knew. They were good together. Each of them made the other stronger. She was no longer an unwanted child, no longer an adult who made things run smoothly for someone else. She was Erica Fallon, Dragon Lady. Shadow’s Dragon Lady.

  Erica let out a deep sigh. The past two days had shown her that action solved problems and the time had come for her to take some in her own life. Maybe she’d start by going to the hospital first thing in the morning. This time she wouldn’t give up. If Conner wouldn’t come to her, she’d go to him.

  Erica stood and began turning off all the lights. Though the house was finally warm, she shivered. She crossed her arms over her chest, rubbing them slowly. She wondered if she’d ever feel warm again.

  She moved down the hall to the front door and turned off the porch light. Then she started back toward the kitchen, pausing for a moment when she reached the spot where she’d been sitting the night Conner came.

  As if on command, a shaft of moonlight cut through the clouds and focused on the deck, catching a man in its beam. He was dressed all in black, from his head to his feet. Except for a red cap with a band of white fur around it.

  Erica’s heart stopped.

  The door opened.

  “I don’t know who you are,” she whispered, “but if you’re not Shadow, you’d better be Santa.”

  He closed the door and came slowly down the hall, a bell jingling like spurs with every step. “Have you been a good little girl?”

  “Would that get me what I want?”

  “Depends on what you want,” he said.

  “I don’t think you can fit it in your bag.”

  “Try me.”

  They were standing only inches apart when she answered. “I want to get married.”

  “So do I. To anyone in particular?”

  “Oh, yes. I’ve had my eye on the groom for ten years. If he’ll still have me.”

  “He’d be very honored to have you. Will tomorrow be soon enough?”

  “I guess it will have to be as long as we don’t have to wait until after the ceremony to start our honeymoon.”

  He pulled off his Santa cap and dropped it on the floor. He hooked his finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up. The moment shimmered between them, the tension dissolving her very bones.

  “God, I still want you,” he said.

  “Lust, I believe you called it. Is that enough?”

  “Hell no, lust isn’t enough. I want a woman who’ll nurse my wounds when I’m hurt, who’ll take on the world if she thinks she can save my life, who waits for me even when I’ve let her down in the past. What do you want?”

  She could have given him a laundry list of the things she loved about him: his compassion, his dedication, his willingness to risk his life for her. Instead, she simply said, “You.”

  Erica could feel his need, the intensity of his holding back. The air around them seemed to get hotter. She gasped and swayed toward him, no longer able to tolerate the distance between them.

  Then Conner kissed her, long and deep.

  “There’s never been another woman for me, Dragon Lady,” he whispered. “We’ve wasted too much time. I want to be beside you, inside you, with you for the rest of my life.”

  But he didn’t touch her, except to support her waist with his big hands. He seemed intent on drawing out every nuance of heat that was scorching her very skin. It was as if he knew she was about to explode.

  He pulled back and looked down at her, his blue eyes stormy in the half-light, his lips grim.

  “What’s wrong, Conner?”

  “Not a thing. For the first time in a very long time, everything is right.” He lifted his knee and shucked one boot, then the other, and finally, his socks, his gaze planted firmly on Erica all the while.

  She glanced down at the floor and Conner’s bare feet, then smiled. “No fair, you’re getting a head start.”

  His lips relaxed, curling into a smile that made the blood in her veins churn. “We can’t have that, can we?” His gaze drifted to her breasts and down. “No zipper?”

  She shook her head.

  He caught the bottom of her sweater and pulled it up, bending her back across his arm as his lips feasted on breasts that were covered by a scrap of lace.

  Before Conner had been the leader. T
his time Erica pushed him away and moments later, in the faint light of the one lamp still glowing in the kitchen, she stood before him totally nude.

  He whispered her name and reached for her.

  “No, Conner. Let me. We don’t have our tree and there is no snow, but it’s Christmas. You’re exactly what I wanted Santa to bring me. Let me unwrap my present.”

  She removed his sweater, unfastened his pants, and slid the zipper down. As he drew in a deep breath, she took him by the hand and led him up the stairs, kissing him upward, one step at a time.

  But every time he tried to pull her closer, she stopped him. “Not yet. Anticipation is half the fun.”

  At the top of the stairs she hooked her thumbs inside his jeans and briefs, sliding them down, freeing his erection to be tortured by her lips and her tongue.

  Conner groaned, and pulled her up. “I’ve had just about as much anticipation as I can handle for one night, darling.”

  She laughed and danced away from him and down the corridor into the bedroom, where she’d once come to hide from the world. Conner followed, closing the door behind him, throwing the room into total darkness.

  At that moment the clouds outside parted, allowing the light of a silver moon to flood through the crocheted valance at her window. Suddenly the room was cast with a delicate pattern that looked like snow. The wind whistled against the house, moving the curtain slightly, turning the design into a swirling storm of white.

  “Oh, Conner. Thank you.”

  Too filled with emotion to reply, Conner lifted her in his arms and laid her on the bed. And there, amid nature’s canopy of light, Conner Preston made love to the woman who would at last become his wife.

  There were no words to describe their coming together, except her cry of ecstasy at his touch. She threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled him against her.

  As Conner thrust himself inside her, Erica lifted her hips to meet him. Conner gritted his teeth and held on with every ounce of control he possessed. But it had been too long and his need too great. He couldn’t hold back his intense release, and it took him a moment to realize that she was climaxing with him.