Someday Soon
“It might be a good idea if I stayed the night with her,” Linette heard Patty suggest to her husband. “You and the boys can manage one night without me, can’t you?”
“No problem,” John assured her.
“Patty, that isn’t necessary. All I do is sleep. You can check on me every four or five hours if you want, but there’s no need for you to spend the night here.”
“Nonsense. Don’t deprive me of this night of peace and quiet. It’d be like a minivacation for me.” Patty kissed her husband and shooed him out of the room ahead of her. “I’ll be back before you know it,” her friend told her.
Linette tried to smile, but her head hurt and she discovered she was sleepy again. She’d rest her eyes a few moments, she told herself, and be awake by the time Patty returned.
“What is it?” Mallory asked as he raced toward the house.
“I think it’s time,” Francine said. “I felt this sharp pain, and the next thing I knew my water broke.”
“Okay,” Mallory said, sounding calm and collected when he was anything but. “We’ll phone the doctor, get your suitcase, and head for the hospital.”
“You phone the doctor,” Francine said. “There are a couple of items I still need to stick inside my suitcase.”
Mallory froze on the top step. “You mean to tell me that after nine months you still aren’t ready for this baby?”
Francine smiled calmly and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Don’t panic. Everything’s going to work out just fine.”
Panic was an adequate word to describe Mallory’s brewing emotions. They’d been waiting for this moment for weeks, and now that their child’s birth was imminent, Mallory wasn’t sure he was mentally prepared for the ordeal. Already it felt as if his bad leg were about to go out on him. He tried to disguise his fear from Francine and doubted his playacting worked.
As calmly as possible, he walked over to the phone and picked up the receiver. He looked up and punched out the Seattle number, then realized there was no dial tone. To make sure he wasn’t imagining things, he tapped the plunger several times. Nothing.
The flashing red light of the answering machine blinked on and off, reminding him the phone had been working only moments earlier. He hit the switch on the machine and was surprised to hear Cain’s voice.
“Mallory…Cain here. Listen, I hate…alarmist, but…danger…lurking about. Don’t…chances. Enrique…revenge. I’ll explain everything…worried…take care.”
Mallory rewound the tape and listened to it a second time. The connection was bad. One thing was certain, Cain wouldn’t have left the message if he didn’t believe Mallory and Francine were in danger.
That explained what had happened to the lights and the phone.
“Tim?” Francine stood just inside the doorway to his small office. “What’s wrong?”
“The line’s dead.” He couldn’t very well tell his wife, who was in the first stages of labor, that they didn’t dare leave the house for fear of what they’d encounter outside their back door.
“Someone’s out there,” Francine said without emotion. “Someone who wants you dead.”
Mallory frowned. This woman never ceased to amaze him. “How’d you know that?”
“I heard part of Cain’s message. Who’s Enrique?”
“The hell if I know.” Mallory ran a hand down his face. “He wouldn’t be the first man who wanted to see me six feet under. He probably won’t be the last.”
“What are we going to do?” Francine asked, and bit into her lower lip. He admired her for staying calm and wasn’t sure there were many women with her coolness.
“Don’t worry about a thing,” Mallory said, hoping to reassure her.
All at once Francine sucked in her breath and widened her eyes.
“What is it?” he asked, hurrying toward her. He gripped her hands in his own, surprised at the strength with which she held on to him.
After a moment she relaxed and smiled up at him. “That, my darling husband, was a labor pain.”
“How strong was it? Is this your first one? How far apart are they?” His heart was pounding so loud, it was sounding out taps in his ear.
“Slow down,” Francine advised, her hands squeezing his. “I’m fine, and so is the baby. I got a bit frightened there when my water broke, but everything’s going to be all right. What’s our situation like?”
Mallory closed his eyes in an effort to calm his heart and his head. “I don’t know. My guess is that we’re being watched.”
“Can we leave the house?”
“I don’t know that yet.”
“I’m going to lie down,” Francine said without emotion. “More water leaks out every time I have a pain, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be walking around so much.”
Mallory nodded and, taking her by the elbow, escorted her into the master bedroom. He left the lights out and helped Francine onto the mattress.
After adjusting the pillow and bringing her a fresh supply of towels, he asked, “Can I get you anything more?”
“I’m fine.”
Unfortunately Mallory couldn’t say the same thing. He was a wreck. He didn’t know who or what lurked outside his front door. His wife was in labor, and for all his medical experience in the field, he didn’t know shit about delivering a baby.
His phone was out of order. As far as he could see, only one option was left open to him. He had to discover for himself exactly what danger awaited them before he brought Francine out of their house.
His camouflage gear was tucked away in a trunk in the attic. Using a flashlight, Mallory climbed the stairs to where his equipment was stored. He changed clothes quickly and smeared a mixture of black and green paint over his face.
“Tim?”
He heard Francine timid voice almost immediately. “I’m coming, sweetheart.”
Francine gasped and levered herself on one elbow when she saw him. A smile softened her features. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”
“I don’t know,” he said sarcastically. “It seemed like a good time to dress up for Halloween. What the hell do you think I’m doing?”
“Just where are you going?”
“Outside.”
All at once she bit into her lower lip, closed her eyes, and breathed in deeply. She seemed to be counting silently, her head moving almost imperceptibly. “How long will you be gone?”
Mallory knelt down on the floor beside the mattress. “I don’t know. Will you be all right alone for a few moments?”
“Of course.” How confident she sounded, as if she gave birth once a week the way some women did the washing. “Just promise me one thing.”
“You got it.”
“Please be careful, Tim,” she whispered, her hands resting over her rounded tummy. “I don’t want to have to deliver this baby on my own.”
“You haven’t got a thing to worry about, sweetheart,” he said with supreme confidence. When it came to fighting for money, Mallory had been one of the best, but this time it was his family. He was protecting his wife and their child; he’d be more than good.
He’d be lethal.
“Are you feeling any better?” Patty asked Linette. She sat on the edge of the mattress and held a tray in her hand. Linette noted that her neighbor had been thoughtful enough to bring her soup. Chicken noodle, from the looks of it, along with several soda crackers.
Somehow Linette managed a weak smile. She felt worse now than earlier. “I don’t know that I can eat anything.”
“Give it a try. A couple of spoonfuls of soup and we’ll see how your stomach handles that. Have you been drinking plenty of liquids?”
Linette closed her eyes. She’d barely gotten out of bed in two days.
“Don’t answer that, I can tell that you haven’t. Here,” Patty said, setting a glass of water next to the bedstand. She stayed with Linette until she managed two pitiful mouthfuls of the soup, and then shook her head, unable to take more.
“Is there anything else I can get you?”
“No. I’m fine. Really. I’ll rest and feel better by morning.”
“I’m sure you will,” Patty said, brushing the hair away from Linette’s brow. “At least your fever’s broken. That’s a good sign.”
“See, I’m already on the road to recovery.”
Cain was on his way home. Linette wasn’t sure how she felt about that. He’d broken his word. He’d walked out on her. Now he seemed to think that all he needed to do was come rushing back and everything would return to the way it had been before.
Wrong.
What Cain failed to realize was that if he had the option to pick and choose which promises he opted to keep, then she did as well.
Although she’d sold Wild and Wooly to Bonnie, she still felt very much a part of the business. Bonnie was a wonderful manager, but for all her business finesse, the older woman didn’t have the strong personal relationship with the customers that Linette had worked so hard to build. From what Bonnie wrote, several of her former clients had asked about Linette. Even more had inquired about the evening classes she’d once taught.
As much as she tried to tell herself otherwise, Linette missed San Francisco and her life there. She could understand the desire Cain felt to go back to Deliverance Company. Murphy had offered him the perfect reason.
She could understand, but she couldn’t accept that he’d broken his word. He’d left her sitting at home, twiddling her thumbs, waiting like a dutiful wife for her husband’s return.
Patty came back a few minutes later and removed the dinner tray. She carried a thick novel with her. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting to read this book. I’m going to soak in a bubble bath until my skin shrivels up into tiny wrinkles. You’ll call me if you need me, won’t you?”
“I’m feeling much better already,” Linette assured her friend. “Take your time and enjoy yourself.”
“I will. I can’t remember the last time I took a bath without little green army men camped along the edge of the tub. This is going to be pure heaven.”
It might have been the soup or the fact she had company, Linette didn’t know which, but she did feel better. Sitting up in bed, she reached down and plugged in the phone. To her amazement it rang almost immediately.
“Hello,” she said into the mouthpiece.
“Linette? It’s Cain.”
“Hello. Cain?” She wished she didn’t sound so pleased to hear from him, but she was, despite everything.
“Are you all right? Is someone there with you?”
Her hand tightened around the receiver. “I’m perfectly fine. I don’t need a keeper, you know.”
“Who’s with you?”
“Patty Stamp.”
Cain’s response sounded very much like a string of swear words.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“I just landed in Florida. Listen, babe, I don’t know if John fully understands the situation.”
“What about Jack?”
“He hasn’t been found yet,” he answered impatiently.
“Then what are you doing back in the States?” She closed her eyes, already knowing the answer to her questions. “Is it because I’m pregnant?”
“Where’s John?” he asked, ignoring her words.
“His house, I suppose.”
Again his response was followed by a list of words she’d never heard her husband use in her presence before. Linette frowned, not knowing what to think.
“Cain, what’s wrong? Patty said the sheriff stopped by to check up on me.”
“Nothing you need to worry about,” he said in a tight, strained voice that said otherwise. “I was thinking maybe it would be a good idea if you visited Nancy for a few days.”
“My sister-in-law, Nancy Lewis? Whatever for? Cain, there’s something you’re not telling me.” She could hear the alarm in his voice, and if she read him right, it had little or nothing to do with her pregnancy.
“Linette, listen, I made a mistake in leaving you. Jack’s capture was a setup to get me out of the country.”
“A setup?”
“There’s a man by the name of Enrique who wants me to suffer, and the way to hurt me is through the people I love. He’s knows I’m married, and I’m afraid it won’t take him long to discover you’re alone at the ranch.”
Linette sucked in her breath. “Oh, dear God.”
“I’ve already hired a couple of men to watch the house for any unusual activity, but for the love of heaven, Linette, don’t trust anyone. I made a mistake in not making John understand the seriousness of the situation, but I didn’t want to alarm him. I don’t have the luxury of that any longer.”
“What do you want me to do?” Linette’s hand was trembling so badly that it was difficult to keep hold of the telephone.
“You’ll be safer with Nancy. Get there as soon as you can make the arrangements.”
“What about you?”
“I can take care of myself,” he assured her. “But damn it all to hell, Linette, I can do a better job of it if I’m not worried sick about you.”
She stiffened at his words. “I apologize for being such a burden to you.”
He swore again, this time with regret. “I couldn’t live with myself if anything were ever to happen to you or the baby. You’re my life. I was a fool to have ever left you. Trust me, this isn’t a mistake I’ll soon forget.”
“I sincerely hope not,” she told him.
“I don’t want you to worry, you’re safe for now.”
A thought suddenly occurred to her. “But how will I know the bad guys from the good guys?”
“You won’t, but then it’s unlikely that you’ll ever see either. Just get to San Francisco as soon as you can.”
“But what if I’m followed?”
“You will be,” he assured her.
“I mean by the wrong people,” she insisted. “I don’t want to put Nancy or her family in jeopardy.”
“You won’t, babe, I assure you. Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”
“I will. You too.”
“I will. I will.”
“And Cain?”
“Yes.”
“Get that son of a bitch.”
Her husband chuckled. “My thoughts exactly.”
18
There were two men, Mallory decided. The first had positioned himself outside the barn, and the second was stationed behind a tree and was studying the house. Mallory didn’t know how much time he had before they made their move. He wasn’t sure how much time Francine had, either.
Cold fury tightened his muscles until he had to force himself to relax. He didn’t have the luxury of venting his anger. Just yet. Soon, though. Soon enough these men would pay.
Try as he might, Mallory couldn’t get Francine out of his mind. It was vital on any mission to clear his head of distractions. His wife, her body twisted with labor pains, was more than a minor distraction, however.
She’d attempted to disguise her fears, but Mallory had seen through her brave front. She was frightened. Hell, so was he.
Mallory worked his way around the outside of the barn, circling the first man, taking care to remain as silent as possible. Only he wasn’t quiet enough.
Mallory stopped breathing when a shadowy figure emerged from the barn no more than ten feet from where he was standing. For one horrible moment he assumed there was another man he hadn’t known about and he’d blithely walked into their trap. His heart beat in slow, irregular thuds for several seconds until he realized the figure wasn’t that of a man.
It was Bubba, his cantankerous male llama, the bane of his existence.
Bubba had heard Mallory. Apparently the llama assumed that if Mallory was in the vicinity, it must be feeding time, whether the sun was out or not.
Mallory’s attention went to the gunman positioned alongside the barn. The man, dressed in army fatigues, lifted his head and peered into the thick darkness like
a wild beast testing the wind. After a moment he signaled to the second man, who zigzagged across the yard before joining him.
Mallory was a safe distance from the pair but close enough to pick up the majority of their conversation. Luckily he was fluent in Spanish and understood every word.
“What the hell’s that? It looks like a horse,” the gunman stated.
“It’s a llama.”
“A what?”
“A llama.”
“What’s it doing out here?”
“Hell if I know.”
The second man checked his weapon. “Are they still inside the house?”
“The woman is.”
“What about Mallory?”
The second man was silent for a moment, then, “He knows we’re here. He’s out here somewhere, watching, waiting.”
“Let’s get the woman. That’ll flush him out.”
The other man’s soft laugh lacked humor. “Trust me, neither one of us would make it two steps inside that house.”
After a bit more, the two separated. The first man returned to his post near the front of the barn.
Thinking all these visitors should pay him heed, Bubba followed the gunman at a leisurely pace. He stopped and craned his long, sleek neck over the fence, seeking a handout. At first the man ignored the beast, but Bubba, bless his miserable, black heart, didn’t take kindly to being ignored.
He spat at him.
The gunman swore and wiped the slime from his face.
If circumstances had been any different, Mallory would have laughed outright. The hired killer whirled around and cursed the llama vehemently. This was the moment Mallory had been waiting for. Bubba had provided the distraction he needed.
Mallory slithered forward from his hiding place. For an instant all he could think about was Francine and his need to get back to her. All he could see was his wife, waiting inside the house, frightened and worried. His wife, giving birth to his child alone, not knowing if he’d return.
Deliberately he wiped her image from his mind. No longer was he a husband. No longer was he a soon-to-be father. For that moment he was a trained killer.