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But could Haley handle it? After all this time, could she face the man who’d fathered her child? The man she’d loved as long as she could remember?
She could.
She had to!
Spinning, she bolted for the front door. Sean followed hard on her heels.
“Where are you going?”
“To find Luke Callaghan.”
“No way! You’re not setting foot outside this safe house.”
“Safe?” Whirling, she leapt to the attack. “What’s safe about it? Frank knows where I am. He got through your command center’s elaborate electronic screens with one call. If he wanted to, he could probably order one of his goons to launch a shoulder-held missile from a mile away and put it through that window right now.”
The fact that they both knew she was right didn’t lessen Sean’s bulldog stance. “We’ve made it this far together, Dai—Haley. Don’t give up on me now.”
“I’m not giving up. I’ve just decided to play the game by Frank’s ground rules.” Icy resolve coated every word. “He wants two million dollars. As you pointed out, he’s not likely to hurt me or my child until I deliver it. And I do intend to deliver it. With Luke Callaghan.”
“Christ! Callaghan’s a good man. A war hero, no less. But he can’t see a red flag waved two inches in front of his face.”
A new ache pierced Haley’s heart, adding another layer to the hurt and guilt and fear she’d carried for so long. Seeing the pain on her face, Sean backpedaled gruffly.
“Look, I’ll admit Callaghan has moved mountains to help us find Lena. Once DNA tests indicated that he was her father, he let us tap his phones. He offered to provide the ransom, when and if it was demanded. He even volunteered the theory that he was the source the kidnappers intended to milk right from the start. With all his millions, it was certainly a distinct possibility.”
More than a possibility. Since Lena had been taken just days before Luke returned to Mission Creek, everyone on the task force initially suspected his vast wealth had sparked the kidnapping.
“Callaghan also worked his own net,” the FBI agent conceded with a touch of grudging admiration. “He has more contacts than any six men I know. And not just in the government. He and those three buddies of his scoured more dives, bribed more drunks and coerced more lowlifes into spilling their guts than our entire task force. But he can’t—”
“No buts,” Haley interjected swiftly, fiercely. “Luke Callaghan is Lena’s father. I can’t let him stand idly on the sidelines now while Frank Del Brio barters her for blood money.”
Reaching for the door, she yanked it open. Sean’s big, beefy hand smacked hard against the wood panel.
“Don’t try to stop me,” Haley hissed. “Don’t even think about trying to stop me. I’ve done everything you asked me to, Sean. All these months I risked my life to provide the information you wanted. I will not risk my child’s.”
“All right!” Conceding defeat, the FBI operative nodded. “Hang loose a minute. I’ll have my people track Callaghan down for you.”
Haley drove away from the farmhouse a few moments later, trailed by a dusty white van and armed with the 9 mm Glock that Sean had instructed one of his agents to hand over.
She knew how to fire the handgun. She’d grown up in this patch of South Texas, on a sprawling acreage just outside Mission Creek. Indulged by her parents and spoiled shamefully by her older brother, Ricky, she’d spent most of her after-school hours in voice lessons, dance classes and giggling with her girlfriends as they checked out the hunks at the pool of the luxurious Lone Star Country Club. Ricky had taken her out to ping tin cans off fence poles often enough for Haley to know one end of a gun from another, though.
Grimly, she locked her hands around the steering wheel and drove through the night. A million stars winked in the inky sky. The moon hung low, dazzling in its silver glow. Haley didn’t even spare it a glance.
As promised, Sean had pinpointed Luke Callaghan’s present location. He was with one of his buddies. At the Saddlebag. The same watering hole where Haley had bumped into him two years ago, with such earth-shattering consequences.
The irony of seeking Luke out at the Saddlebag ate into her soul. He hadn’t recognized her that hot July night two years ago. The London plastic surgeon who’d altered Haley’s face had more than earned his five thousand pounds. Luke wouldn’t recognize her tonight, either. Not just because he’d lost his sight, but because she’d all but crawled into the skin of the fictional Daisy Parker. No one—until Frank—had penetrated her cover.
Although…
Lately, Luke had been asking questions about the blond waitress with the thick-as-road-tar Texas twang. He’d even cornered her once at the Lone Star Country Club. He’d brushed his mouth across hers, as if testing his memory. He’d tested Haley’s nerves, as well. She’d shied away, refusing to admit she knew him.
Now she’d not only admit that she knew him and that she’d had his baby, but she’d grovel at his feet if necessary to gain his help in reclaiming their child.
Her mouth had settled into a determined line when she wheeled into the Saddlebag’s jam-packed parking lot some twenty minutes later and nosed her car into the narrow space between two pickups. The white van parked some yards away. At this point Haley couldn’t say whether the FBI’s watchful vigilance reassured her or added to the stress that crawled across her shoulder blades like a Texas scorpion.
Her throat tight, she climbed out of the car. The Saddlebag hadn’t changed much in two years. The same wooden sign creaked in the breeze above the door. The same dim spotlights cast arcs of light against its gray, weathered siding. The same motel units were strung out behind the bar like plump, feathered hens roosting for the night. With a stab of acute pain, Haley wrenched her gaze from the largest of the ten or so units and headed for the bar.
When she pushed through the front door, the country-western music pouring through the wall-mounted speakers competed with the remembered clack of pool balls. Haley stood beside an arch formed by branding irons, hidden in its shadows. Narrowing her eyes, she peered through the blue haze. Establishments in this part of South Texas didn’t run to separate smoking sections.
Her gaze skimmed the handful of customers at the long curved bar that wrapped clear around to the back of the lounge. She recognized several patrons. She’d waited on them at the country club. Ignoring the sudden, hopeful gleam in one man’s eye and the welcoming wave of another, she turned her attention to the half dozen tables at the rear of the bar.
With a sudden thump of her heart, she spotted two men nursing dew-streaked long-necks at one of the tables. Her glance skimmed past Tyler Murdoch to lock on Luke. His back was to her, but Haley couldn’t mistake the curly black hair cut military short under his summer straw Stetson or the athletic shoulders stretching the seams of his blue denim shirt. Every inch of Luke Callaghan’s powerful, muscular body was imprinted on her memory.
She’d been in love with him for as long as she could remember. The orphaned son of wealthy parents, Luke had grown up on the Callaghan’s lavish estate just north of Mission Creek, cared for by a devoted housekeeper and an absentee uncle not above dipping into his nephew’s trust fund to maintain his free-wheeling lifestyle. Luke and Haley’s brother had been friends since grade school, then roomed together at V.M.I.—Virginia Military Institute—where Luke and Ricky and three other classmates from the local area had formed their own special clique. The Fabulous Five, Haley had secretly labeled them. A band of brothers so tight and close it seemed that nothing could ever shake their friendship.
Ricky Mercado, the brother she adored.
Flynt Carson, scion of one of the old cattle king families that had settled this corner of South Texas.
Spence Harrison, brown-haired, brown-eyed and all male.
Tyler Murdoch, rugged, rough-edged, with an uncanny flair for anything and everything mechanical.
And Luke. Laughing, blue-eyed Luke Callaghan.
Haley had developed severe crushes on each of her brother’s pals at one time or another, but Luke had stolen her heart. She was so young when she’d first tumbled into love with him, just growing into the seductive curves and smoldering Italian looks she’d inherited from her mother. A typical teenage girl, she’d alternated between outrageously blatant attempts to attract Luke’s attention and tongue-tied shyness when she did.
He’d been kind to her, she remembered on a wave of stinging regret for those golden days of her girlhood. Teasing and big-brotherly and kind. If he’d recognized the signs of adolescent fixation, he never let on.
During her college years she’d seen Luke less frequently, but each time she did, she’d fallen a little more in love with him. He and Ricky and the others had joined the marines by then. They made only brief trips home for the holidays or lightning-quick visits en route to some mission or another. To Haley’s chagrin, Luke didn’t spend enough time at home to notice that Ricky’s sister was now all grown up.
If he hadn’t noticed, however, Frank Del Brio certainly had.
Shuddering, Haley recalled how the handsome older man had started hitting on her soon after her graduation from the University of Texas. It shamed her now to admit that his attentions had flattered her at first. Dark-haired, dark-eyed, and six-two of solid muscle, Frank could charm the knickers off a nun if he wanted to. Only after Haley had come to understand how deeply Del Brio was involved in her uncle Carmine’s more dangerous undertakings did she try to break things off.
He’d given her a first taste of his temper then, and of his ruthlessness. Her father was in the family business, too, Frank had reminded Haley with a smile. Not as deep as his brother, Carmine, certainly, but deep enough to make him a target for the feds or for rival mob members if the right hints were dropped in the wrong ears. The threat was still hanging heavy on her mind when Frank slid a diamond ring onto her finger.
Then Ricky and Luke and their friends had volunteered for a highly classified, dangerous mission during the Gulf War. To this day Haley knew only vague details of that mission. Her brother never talked about it. Nor did any of the other four. All she knew was that they’d been dropped behind enemy lines, destroyed a biological weapons manufacturing plant, were captured and spent agonizing months as POWs until their commander, Phillip Westin, mounted a daring rescue raid.
The Fabulous Five came home to a hero’s welcome. Haley would never forget the parade held in their honor one blazing June morning. Or their wild, lakeside celebration that night.
That was the night Haley Mercado died.
Two
More than a decade earlier
“Guys! Hey, guys!”
Waving wildly, Haley shouted to the occupants of the powerful speedboat cutting across Lake Maria.
“Luke! Ricky! Over here, darn it!”
With a disgusted huff that lifted the tendrils of her mink-brown hair, Haley gave it up as hopeless. The long shadows creeping across the lake had reached the dock. They couldn’t see her, and she knew they couldn’t hear her above the engine’s roar.
Retreating to the sleek little two-seater sports car she’d parked at the head of the pier, she groped for the headlight switch. It took several bright flashes, but she finally caught the boaters’s attention. The man at the wheel waved, leaned right and brought the craft into a sharp turn.
Haley drifted back down to the dock to await its arrival. Her brother, Ricky, and his four buddies had been water-skiing all afternoon, slicing through the water with reckless abandon. She could certainly understand their craving to feel the sun and the wind on their skin.
They’d more than earned these hours on the lake, considering the morning they’d just put in. From nine o’clock on, the returning POWs had been on display. After all, folks around here considered them gen-u-ine Texas heroes, not to mention poster ads for the United States Marine Corps. Spit-shined, square-shouldered, and heart-stoppingly handsome in their uniforms, they’d ridden in the parade organized in their honor. Then, of course, they’d had to sit under the hot sun, steaming in their high-collared dress blues, while local dignitaries gave long-winded speeches about South Texas’s own. They’d even signed autographs for the kids who’d swarmed the platform after the speeches.
The minute the crowds had dispersed, however, they’d shed their decorum along with their uniforms and headed for the lake. They’d been here for a good five hours, tossing down beer and celebrating their hard-won freedom. The sun was now a flaming ball hanging low above the hills surrounding Lake Maria. If they didn’t come in and dry off soon, they’d be navigating in the dark. More to the point, they’d miss the lavish barbecue Isadora and Johnny Mercado were throwing at their lakeside cottage to welcome Ricky and his friends home.
Leaning her hips against a piling, Haley peered across the rippling water at the approaching boat. Her heart contracted painfully as she made out the features of the man at the wheel. Luke Callaghan stood wide-legged and strong, his bare chest glistening in the slanting rays of the sun. Leather-tough Tyler Murdoch sat beside him. Although she couldn’t make out the figures in the back of the boat, she knew their faces as well as her own. Too-serious Flynt Carson. Intense, intent Spence Harrison. And Ricky, Haley’s adored older brother.
Thank God they’d all made it back safely, she thought on a wave of bone-deep relief. With their return, at least one of the worries that had kept her sleepless and hollow-eyed these past weeks had been allayed. The other…
The other she’d take care of tonight.
Her stomach clenching, Haley glanced down at the square-cut diamond on her left hand. The enormity of what she planned to do just a few hours from now started nausea churning in her stomach.
Damn Frank Del Brio!
The speedboat’s throaty roar brought her head up. Squinting, she watched as Luke brought the powerful machine skimming toward the dock. With consummate skill, he throttled back mere yards from the pier, reversed thrust on the dual engines and floated the craft up to the pilings. The man sprawled beside Luke grinned up at her as she caught their line.
“Hey, sweet thing.”
“Hey, Tyler.”
The former all-conference wide receiver skimmed an appreciative glance from her shoulders, left bare by the red-checked halter top tied just below her full breasts, to the long legs showing beneath her red linen shorts.
“You’re looking good tonight.”
“Thanks.”
Luke appeared to share his opinion. Haley’s skin prickled as his gaze made a slow pass from her neck to her knees. But when he addressed her, his voice held the same carelessly affectionate tone he always used with his best buddy’s little sister.
“Want to go for a spin?”
“I wish I could,” she said with real longing. The water looked so dark and green and cool, and Luke so sleek and powerful in his wet swimming trunks. Wrenching her gaze from his broad chest and flat belly, Haley searched the back of the boat for her brother.
“Where’s Ricky?”
“We dropped him off at the marina about fifteen minutes ago. He said he had to pick up Melissa and take her to the party your folks are throwing for us.”
“Well, shoot!”
“Is that a problem?”
“No, not really. Melissa called the house a half hour ago, asking where he was. Like a good sister, I drove all the way around the lake to fetch him. Now I’ll have to drive all the way back.”
She glanced across the wide expanse of water. The lights the Mercados had strung in the backyard of their lakeside cottage in preparation for the barbecue winked like lightning bugs in the gathering dusk. Those pinpricks of light punched a fist-size hole in Haley’s heart.
Isadora Mercado had thrown herself into arranging this party. It looked to be one of the biggest events of the year. A joyous celebration. A gathering of all Ricky’s and Luke’s friends beneath a star-filled Texas sky.
Only Isadora’s daughter—and Judge Carl Bridges—knew it would be the last night Haley Mercado would spend with her family. The last hours she’d share with her friends.
The last moments she’d have with Luke.
Her right hand closed over her left with bruising force. The edges of the diamond gouged into the undersides of her fingers. Frank Del Brio was to blame—for everything.
“We were just planning to head across the lake to the party ourselves,” Luke said, cutting into her chaotic thoughts. “Why don’t you come with us? It’ll save you the long drive.”
“No, I… I can’t.”
Haley would go out on these dark waters soon enough. When she did, she wouldn’t come back in.
“Sure you can,” Spence Harrison countered from his seat behind Luke’s. “Haul your butt back here, Tyler, and make room for the lady.”
She shook her head. “I need my car.”
Her sporty little vehicle represented an integral element of the plan she and Judge Bridges had worked out. Haley would slip away from the party once it was in full swing. Drive to a secluded cove on this very lake. Leave the coverup to her bathing suit on the front seat. Go for a late-night swim. Disappear forever.
“You can retrieve the car tomorrow,” sandy-haired Flynt Carson put in. “Better climb in, kid, or you’ll miss the festivities.”
Haley’s glance darted to Luke. The urge to spend just a few more minutes with him pulled at her like talons dug deep into her heart. She’d never see him again after tonight. Never know if the lazy glances he’d sent her way in the past year or so might have developed into something deeper, something that had nothing to do with the brotherly affection he always showed her.
Misinterpreting the reason for her hesitation, Luke cocked a brow. “Are you thinking we’ve downed too much beer to get you safely across the lake? Don’t worry about the open cans littering the back of the boat. We’re big boys. We knew we were getting close to our limit. To avoid temptation, we emptied the last couple of six packs over the side right after we dropped Ricky off. You’re safe with us, Haley.”
Oh, God. If only that were true!
“Here.” Smiling, Luke held up his hand. “I’ll help you in.”
The fierce desire to slip her hand into his sliced through Haley. Frantically her mind raced to revise her carefully laid plans. She’d leave her car here and borrow one of her parents’ when it was time to sneak away from the party. Then, she could take this last boat ride with Ricky’s friends and steal another few moments with Luke.
Her hand eased into his. His grip was strong and sure and wet from the spray as he helped her into the boat. Once she’d found her footing, he held her fingers up to the light. Turning her hand from one side to the other, he studied her ring. The multifaceted diamond caught the last rays of the sun. Brightly colored sparks leapt from her hand.
Luke had seen the ring before, of course. Haley had been wearing it like a brand since the day he and Ricky and the others had returned home. This was the first time he’d examined it up close, however.
“That’s some rock,” he commented with a grin.
“Yes.” Her response was flat and lacking any emotion. “It is.”
“Funny,” he murmured, searching her face, “I never saw you and Frank Del Brio as a match.”
“Funny,” Haley got out in a strangled voice, “neither did I.”
What a fool she’d been! What a naive, idiotic fool! She’d been so convinced she could turn aside Frank’s increasingly ardent demands. So sure he would understand when she told him she just didn’t feel the same passion he seemed to feel for her.
