Nine
Nick was in the kitchen making breakfast when his doorbell rang. He glanced at the clock and frowned: 8:04 a.m.
“Who the hell comes visiting at this time of the morning?” he muttered, then set the skillet of bacon off the fire and went to find out. He glanced down the hall as he passed, looking to see if the sound had awakened Quinn, but her door was still closed.
The doorbell rang again.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” he said to himself and then looked through the peephole and groaned.
He was about to catch hell. Might as well start off with a smile.
“Hey! Aunt Juana... Uncle Tonio...just in time. Coffee’s done, and you must have smelled the bacon cooking. Come in, come in!”
Juana was just a little over five feet tall, but she came across like a Titan when she was upset, and today her voice was high-pitched and scolding.
“Look at you with this bandage on your head! You get shot and you don’t call us? Who does this?”
“Your nephew the cop does this,” Nick said, then swung her off her feet and into his arms until she started laughing and begging to be put down.
He did so, with a kiss on her cheek.
She spent a couple of minutes fussing with her dress and patting her hair.
“You are a loco popo!” she said, wagging her finger in his face.
Nick threw back his head and laughed. Popo, the slang word for cop, cracked him up. Crazy cop fit him far better than he would have cared to admit.
“Good morning, Uncle Tonio! You knew she was going to chew me out, and you brought her anyway?”
His uncle, who wasn’t a whole lot taller than his wife, chuckled and gave Nick a big hug.
“It looks like that was a close call, mi hiho. So glad you are okay.”
Nick ran a finger along the bandage.
“So am I, but you’ve both fussed enough. Come to the kitchen with me. I need to finish cooking bacon. I have a convalescing houseguest to feed.”
“Someone else is shot besides you?” Tonio asked.
“Yes, but not at the same time. She was shot first. Then I was shot when the bad guy came to the hospital to finish her off.”
Juana made the sign of the cross.
“Madre de Dios. Who is this person?”
“Just a thug and he’s dead. Let it go. It’s part of the job, and I’m fine and she’s healing.”
Juana’s dark eyes flashed.
“Why do you have a stranger in your house? Why is she not healing in a hospital where she belongs?” she asked.
Nick was turning bacon as he talked. He needed to explain this right. It mattered to him that they like her.
“She’s not a stranger, and she isn’t safe in the hospital. And she has no one in the world to belong to, Aunt Juana...except me.”
Juana frowned. “This is the first I’m hearing that you have a woman in your life.”
“It’s not like that. She’s an old friend...from my life before. We were foster kids together in the same family for almost two years. The one where I lived when you guys came for me.”
“And she just found you?” Tonio asked.
“Not like you mean. It was about as random as a chance meeting could be. She staggered into Homicide with a bullet wound in her back and a toddler zipped up inside her jacket. She fainted in my arms. Look, the less you know about this case, the better. Just know that she was way out in the desert when she saved a baby’s life and got hurt in the process.”
“She sounds like quite a hero. When do we meet her?” Tonio asked.
“Here I am. Look all you want,” Quinn said.
They all turned in unison to see the leggy redhead in scrub pants and a wrinkled shirt standing in the doorway.
Juana and Tonio were a bit taken aback. She was very tall, and all that red hair gave her something of a wild, exotic look. She had a sling on her arm, but she looked less like a victim than anyone they’d ever seen.
Nick was eyeing her too, but with appreciation.
“Good morning, Quinn,” he said.
“Morning. Sorry to interrupt. I could just really use a cup of coffee and one of those pain pills.”
Nick could tell by her narrowed eyes and the way she was cradling her arm in the sling that she was hurting.
“You got it, honey. Oh... Aunt Juana, Uncle Tonio, this is my friend Quinn O’Meara. Quinn, my aunt and uncle, Juana and Antonio Chavez.”
Nick handed the kitchen tongs to his aunt.
“Aunt Juana, would you please finish the bacon for me? Uncle Tonio, if you would pour Quinn a cup of coffee, I would appreciate it.”
He led Quinn to a seat at his kitchen table. “You sit. I’ll be right back with the pills.” Then he loped out of the kitchen, leaving the trio to deal with the awkward moment.
But Juana also saw the pain on the woman’s face and her mothering instincts kicked in.
“Tonio! Andale! Get her coffee...and a napkin. Don’t forget a napkin.”
Tonio smiled as he set a cup of hot coffee in front of Quinn.
“It is good to meet you, Quinn. Do you take sugar or cream?”
“No, thank you. Just black,” she said and smiled.
Nick hurried back into the kitchen with the pill bottle in his hand, shook one out and handed it to her, then set the bottle on the counter as Juana took the last pieces of bacon from the skillet.
“Thank you, Aunt Juana,” Nick said and set her down at the table with a cup of coffee before she took over his whole kitchen.
“Hey, Quinn...want your eggs scrambled or fried?” he asked.
“I’ll have mine however you eat yours,” she said.
Juana rolled her eyes.
“Then that would be by the dozen.”
Quinn grinned.
“Two will be sufficient,” she said.
“Good. That leaves the rest of them for me,” he said and began breaking eggs into a bowl while his aunt grilled him about his head wound.
Quinn was taken by his family. It was obvious how much Nick meant to them and how much they meant to Nick. She was glad they’d taken her presence so matter-of-fact and weren’t asking her questions she didn’t want to answer.
“Uncle Tonio? Aunt Juana? Do you want some breakfast?” Nick asked.
“Thank you, but we already ate,” Juana said.
“I would eat some toast and jelly,” Tonio offered.
Juana glanced at his belly and frowned, but he ignored her.
Quinn hid a smile. It was obvious both men adored the little woman no matter how loud and fussy she became.
Nick set a plate of bacon on the table and then absently pushed a long curl away from her eye. He started to pull his finger away and then chuckled.
“What’s funny?” Quinn asked.
“Your hair is alive. It’s curling around my fingers.”
“You should see it when it rains. It becomes this red monster, impossible to tame.”
“I like my women wild,” he said beneath his breath, then quickly turned to get her food before she could respond.
The toast Tonio wanted popped up in the toaster on the counter. He slid them onto a plate and carried it to the table. Quinn saw him eyeing the bacon and quietly pushed the plate to where he could reach it.
He winked when he saw what she was doing.
She grinned and then tuned in to the fuss going on at the stove. Nick was arguing on her behalf.
“Aunt Juana, Quinn might not like my eggs if they are too hot.”
“Don’t worry about the heat on my account,” Quinn said. “I lived a whole year in Mexico. As the old man I worked for used to say, ‘It can’t get too hot for me. I done burnt the hair off my tongue years ago.’”
Laughter followed, but what was funnier to Quinn was watching Juana take the bottle of hot sauce out of Nick’s hands and shake more into the eggs. The byplay between them was adorable. Their love for each other was obvious. She kept thinking what a stroke of luck it was for Nick that they found him when they did.
Unaware he was the object of Quinn’s attention, Nick dished up the eggs, added toast on both plates and took them to the table.
Quinn ate while the rest of them talked and argued, then laughed and argued—dinner theater entertainment for breakfast.
* * *
Special Agent Gleason was shaving and getting ready for the day when his phone rang. When he saw it was his partner, he put it on speaker.
“Hey, Lou, what’s up?”
“Remember the car the O’Meara woman said her shooter was driving...the one you said probably didn’t exist? No windshield? Shaky headlight?”
“Yes, why?”
“We found it in an impound yard on the south side of the city.”
Gleason put down the razor.
“Do we know who it belongs to?”
“It’s registered to Anton Baba.”
Gleason grinned.
“I love it when a case begins coming together,” Lou said. “I honestly didn’t think this was anything that we could use to our advantage. So, the O’Meara woman’s testimony will be useful after all.”
“Have that car taken to our lab. I want to know the name of the man who was driving it.”
“Pretty sure I can answer that for you right now. There was a speeding ticket and a handful of parking tickets in the glove box. The name on the speeding ticket was Dev Bosky.”
“Why do I know that name?” Gleason asked.
“It’s the name of the guy who tried to kill O’Meara in the hospital—the one Detective Saldano put in the morgue. Bosky worked for Baba and his prints were all over the inside.”
“So Baba did know his woman was running,” Gleason said, “and thanks to our gaffe, she’s running again. Any news of her whereabouts yet?”
“It’s not good. The bounty hunters all think she’s gone.”
“Gone where? As in out of the city?” Gleason asked.
“Yes.”
“We need to talk to Baba. Now.”
“According to his housekeeper, he’s out of the country.”
Gleason’s stomach knotted.
“The hell you say.”
“That’s what I was told.”
Gleason groaned.
“I don’t like how this sounds. Baba is out of the country, and Star Davis is missing. We blew this twice,” he muttered.
Lou didn’t argue.
“What do we do next?” Lou asked.
“We already know Baba has his own plane at a private airport. We’re supposed to have a man staked out there. I’ll call him to see if there’s any activity there. You go talk to O’Meara. Lock her in as a witness and keep looking for Star. If you get any new info, let me know.”
“Will do,” Lou said and disconnected.
Gleason moved his phone to the side and finished shaving. He was going to have to explain this royal fuckup to his boss and didn’t know where to start.
As soon as he was dressed, he called headquarters to see who was staked out at Baba’s private airport, then got contact information and put in the call.
He was walking to the kitchen to get a coffee to go as he waited for the call to pick up. Instead it went to voice mail. He frowned, got in his car and drove in to the office and then made the call again—again it went to voice mail.
He told himself there were any number of reasons why the agent wouldn’t answer, but this was Anton Baba they were dealing with, and it bothered him. He thought about sending someone out to check on him, but then decided, what the hell, I’ll do it myself. He called his boss to tell him where he was going, grabbed his coffee and left the building.
The day was already hot, and it was barely past 8:00 a.m. when he drove out of the parking lot and back into traffic. He kept thinking back through the entire case, from the time they put Agent Lacey Lane undercover, to the night she and Agent Ryker were murdered. Losing them and the witness they needed had been a blow to the whole team. It was another home run for Baba, an out for them, and downhill ever since.
He took the exit off the highway that led out to the private airport and then grabbed his sunglasses as he turned east into the sun. It was still glaring on the hood of his car and into his eyes when he topped the ridge above the airport.
He saw the old green Jeep, which was what he’d expected, but he didn’t see a driver sitting in the seat. He pulled up behind the Jeep and parked. He was getting ready to get out when he happened to look up through the windshield and saw a buzzard circling overhead and another one higher up.
It doesn’t have to mean anything.
The moment he opened the door, he smelled something dead. The hair rose on the back of his neck as he reached for his gun and began to approach.
“Chalmers! Agent Chalmers! This is Agent Gleason. Are you there?”
No answer.
The Jeep was empty. The keys were still in the ignition, and binoculars were lying in the seat beside a cell phone and a notepad and pen.
“Son of a bitch,” Gleason muttered and started walking up the slope.
Chalmers’s body was facedown in the sand and crawling with ants. Gleason turned away before he threw up and contaminated the crime scene, then turned his face to the breeze as he called it in.
* * *
Star’s night had not passed as calmly as Quinn O’Meara’s. While Quinn had been settling in at Nick Saldano’s home, Justin Davis and his men parted company as soon as he hit the city limits of Henderson. They drove off in their respective directions without breaking radio silence. As far as they were concerned, this night never happened.
Justin was riding an emotional high and had yet to wipe the smile off his face. His wife, Donna, had seen past Star’s clown-colored hair and makeup the moment they met and went into her angel-of-mercy mode. As a nurse, it came natural to her. She cried when they were introduced, then asked Star what she wanted to do first. Sleep or eat?
Star couldn’t stop shaking. She needed pain meds, but all she asked for was someone to let her parents know she was safe.
“They already know,” Justin said. “I called them on the ride home after you fell asleep. What do you need, honey?”
“Something for pain and a fried egg sandwich.”
Donna frowned.
“Where do you hurt?”
“My back,” Star said.
“Show her,” Justin encouraged.
Star took off her T-shirt and turned around.
Donna gasped.
“Oh, my God! You just had surgery. So many staples. Antibiotics! You need antibiotics as badly as you need pain meds.”
Star pulled her shirt back over her head. She didn’t know what they were thinking and didn’t much care, but they needed to understand where she was coming from, and this was as good a time as any to explain.
“I survived the last seven years by prioritizing. I have a son because I chose not to kill myself. I finally saw a chance to escape with him and trusted the Feds, but it nearly got us both killed, and it put me back under Anton’s thumb anyway. When I found out he was coming to check me out of the hospital, I knew he intended to eliminate me so the Feds can’t use me as a witness against him. Since the Feds failed me miserably the first time, this time I chose to rescue myself. I stabbed my guard in the throat with the plastic knife from my food tray, broke his nose with the butt of his own gun and set a fire in the wastebasket of my hospital room to get away. I’ve suffered worse pain than what’s going on with my back, and with nothing to deaden it, and I’m serious about wanting that sandwich. I’ll happily settle for over-the-counter pain pills until I can get to a doctor.”
Justin felt like he’d been sucker punched. The self-centered teenage sister he remembered had morphed into a warrior.
“I’ll get those pain pills,” Justin said.
Donna’s hands were shaking.
“I’ll fry the eggs. How do you like them?”
“Well-done, please, with mayo.”
“You’ve got it,” Donna said and left the room.
For a few moments Star was alone, trying to come to terms with the fact that her brother was a highway patrolman, that she’d just met his wife and was sitting in their living room like any relative who’d just come for a visit. Except that she was on the run and scared to death she might bring Baba into their world because of her presence.
She looked up as Justin came back with a glass of water and a bottle of over-the-counter pain pills. He shook some out in her hand, and she downed them with the water. When she glanced up, she caught Justin staring at her again.
“I’m sorry for staring,” he said. “I’m just trying to see you beneath the disguise.”
“If you’ll show me where the bathroom is, I’ll wash it off,” she said.
“Sure thing,” Justin said, then helped her up and led her down the hall to a bedroom. “This is our guest room, and you’ve got your own bathroom in here, too.”
Star gazed in awe at the four-poster bed with a cream-and-gold bedspread, the thick fluffy rug over gold-flecked tile, and the big windows, now shuttered against the dark.
“This is wonderful. I keep saying thank you, but the words aren’t big enough.”
Justin shook his head, too close to tears to speak.
Star sighed.
“Tell Donna I’ll be there soon. Don’t want that sandwich to get cold.”
Justin gave her a thumbs-up and left.
Star went to the bathroom, decorated with the same color scheme, and looked through drawers until she found some wet wipes and began cleaning the makeup from her face. Once the bulk of it was gone, she got a washcloth and scrubbed it clean. She couldn’t do much about the color on her hair right now. It would have to be shampooed out.
As soon as she was finished, she looked at herself in the mirror. Once again she was naked to the world.
Justin grinned when she walked back into the kitchen, and Donna gasped again.
“Oh, my word! You look like a younger version of your mother.”
Star blinked back tears.
“I haven’t heard that in years.”
“Don’t cry! I’m sorry. Here’s your sandwich. Would you like milk to go with it?”
“That would be great.” Star sat down and pulled the plate close. “Both of you...sit with me and talk.”
“What do you want to talk about?” Justin asked.
“Anything but the danger you’re in for bringing me here,” she said.
“No danger, little sister. We all had permission to participate, but this whole rescue was on the down-low. There isn’t a record of it anywhere, and I trust the officers who came with me with my life. As far as their families will be concerned, they were at work as usual. It will never be discussed among them.”
“Really?”
Justin heard so much in Star’s voice, including a desperate need to believe.
“Yes, honey. Really. And just so you know, Mom and Dad are on their way here. They’ll be here tomorrow by midafternoon.”
“Oh, my God...that doesn’t seem real,” she said. “I used to dream about them finding me. I can’t believe this is all coming true.”
“You’ll settle in during the days to come. Right now just eat your sandwich before it gets cold,” Donna said.
“I used to dream about these, too,” Star said and took a big bite.
“Mmmmm.”
Justin grinned.
“I think she likes it.”
“I think you’re right,” Donna said.
Star chewed and swallowed.
“If I ignore the pain on my back and close my eyes, I can almost believe I’m still home in Mother’s kitchen eating my after-school snack.”
She ate in silence and then went back to her room, crawled between the sheets and tried to sleep, but all she heard was her baby calling for Mama. It was a long night.
She woke the next day, unaware of the ongoing drama back in Las Vegas.
* * *
After finding Chalmers dead and getting a phone call from Lou telling him Quinn O’Meara was no longer a patient at Centennial Hill Hospital, he was trying to wrap his head around what that could mean. The thought went through his mind that Anton Baba might have both Star and Quinn. But he remembered the Las Vegas cop in her room, how dedicated he’d seemed to protecting Quinn. He was breathing a little easier as he drove back into Vegas, and waited until he was back at the office before he called the police precinct.
He asked to speak to Detective Saldano, only to be told he was off duty for the time being. That’s when he remembered the cop was wearing a bandage on his head. So if the cop was home and the redhead was missing, even if they weren’t still together, he was betting the cop knew where she was.
* * *
It took one phone call to Dr. Munoz, Quinn’s doctor, to get prescriptions ordered, but it took a couple of hours before Nick’s local pharmacy called to let him know they were ready.
Tonio and Juana were just getting ready to leave when Nick got the call, and he ran to catch them at the door.
“Uncle Tonio, please do me a favor. Quinn’s prescriptions are ready. Would you pick them up for me?”
“Sure!” Tonio said. “Down at the CVS in your neighborhood?”
“Yes. There will be two. I don’t know how much they’ll be, so take my wallet.”
“You got it,” Tonio said. “We’ll be right back.”
“Not that fast. We will be observing the speed limit,” Juana snapped.
Tonio shrugged.
“What she said,” he muttered, and then they were gone.
Nick shut the door and then paused in the foyer, listening. Quinn had disappeared soon after breakfast with an excuse about brushing her hair, but he had suspected she just wanted to be alone. When he walked into her room and saw she had fallen asleep with the covers down around her waist, he pulled them up over her injured shoulder. He didn’t know if she was in pain or if she was dreaming, but there was a slight frown between her eyebrows.
He noticed the duffel bag was no longer on the desk, which meant she’d already settled in. The thought of her in his home made him happy, and he reluctantly left the room.
About a half an hour later Tonio was back with his wallet and the prescriptions.
“Did I have enough cash to cover the meds or do I owe you?” he asked.
“You had enough with some left over.”
“Thanks again, Uncle Tonio,” Nick said and gave him a quick pat on the shoulder.
“You are most welcome. Call anytime you need me to run another errand. It will give me an excuse to get away from Juana’s constant need to keep me busy.”
Nick grinned. He already knew the story. Juana had read an article about retirees passing away soon after their retirement because of sudden inactivity, and she took it upon herself to make sure her husband was not another statistic.
A car horn sounded.
Tonio frowned.
“Madre de Dios, that woman! I better go.”
Nick walked him to the door and waved as they drove away.
He paused as he turned, looking at his house anew—wondering what Quinn thought about it, hoping it would become the place of peace and shelter to her that it was to him.