Chapter 4 Under Fire

Five hours earlier

“ N ice.” Gil gave a long, low whistle as he drove Dave out to the runway of the newest private airstrip in Heart Lake. It was only a couple of years old and mostly used by the agriculture pilots contracted to spray the crops on the surrounding farms. The sleek turboprop airplane idling on the tarmac tonight, however, was no crop duster.

Its white paint gleamed in the moonlight for a moment before being plunged into the shadows of the snarling clouds overhead. A rainstorm was rolling in. The dropping, mid-January temperatures could easily turn it into slush and snow.

Dave wouldn’t be surprised if the weather delayed his takeoff. If the Lord was smiling big enough on him, it might even cancel his flight out of town this evening. It certainly wouldn’t break his heart to return home to Jillian for the wedding night they’d been cheated out of .

Thunder rumbled as he stepped out of Gil’s new silver Land Rover. He opened the passenger door on the right and reached for his suitcase.

Gil glanced over his shoulder. “Listen, there’s something I’d like to tell you before you leave.”

He looked so serious that Dave braced himself for more bad news.

“Never thought I’d be in this position.” Gil lifted his Stetson to run a hand through his longish auburn hair.

Despite the number of years they’d spent on the football field together, followed by three decades in law enforcement, this was the first time Dave had ever seen his best friend look downright vulnerable. It wasn’t a look he enjoyed seeing on him. “Dude, spit it out! I have a flight to catch.” He also had a criminal to track down, and he needed to know Gil was going to have his back like he always did.

“Bliss is expecting twins,” Gil blurted, without any further preamble.

Dave’s jaw dropped. “Twins,” he repeated slowly. “As in two babies instead of one?”

“One girl and one boy.” Gil sounded short of breath, like he’d been running the last few miles instead of driving.

Good gravy! Dave hardly knew what to say. “How?”

Gil burst out laughing, making Dave turn red.

“I’m not asking for a birds-and-bees lesson, you moron!”

“I know.” Gil sobered. “Apparently, the risks of multiple births is higher at Bliss’s age. The doc told us earlier today that it could’ve been triplets or quadruplets.”

Dave choked and had to cough to catch his breath. “Like a blasted litter of puppies, eh?” It had never entered his mind to ask if Jillian was expecting more than one baby. As badly as he suddenly wanted to call and ask her, it was probably best if he waited until he returned home. It felt like a conversation that would be better to have face to face.

“Something like that.” Gil ran a hand through his hair again before clapping his hat back on his head. “Just needed to get that off my chest before you left town. We haven’t told anyone else yet.”

Ignoring the first raindrops pattering down intermittently, Dave rolled his suitcase around to Gil’s door and rapped on the window with his knuckles.

Gil rolled it down.

Dave gave him a fist bump. “Let me be the first to congratulate you, you stud you.”

Gil rolled his eyes. “Just…don’t.”

“My bad.” Dave held in a snicker. “I meant stallion.”

“I said don’t.” Gil started to roll up his window.

Dave gave an innocent shrug. “Would you prefer steed?”

Gil revved the motor of his Land Rover ominously. “If you’re finished making light of my new-dad terror, the doc also read us the Santa-sized list of risks involved in a multiple-birth pregnancy.”

“Man, Gil!” Dave’s smile vanished as it dawned on him that the fearless retired sheriff of Heart Lake was craving a rare ounce or two of reassurance. “I hear you. I do.” He dug deep into his faith, trying to come up with the right words. “But there’s no way God would’ve allowed two guys in their fifties to meet the loves of their lives, only to turn His back on us when things got tough. I have to believe He’s going to see us all the way through to the delivery room.” Little did he realize it was a statement he’d be repeating to himself again and again in the coming days .

Gil nodded as he absorbed his words. “You’re right.” He raised the brim of his Stetson to wipe his sleeve across his forehead. “A few months from now, I’m gonna be the father of twins. Two perfectly healthy gifts from Above.”

He sounded so winded that Dave reached through the window to grip his shoulder. “It’s gonna be alright. Anything you and Bliss need, I’ve got your back, man. Me and Jillian both.”

“I know you do. Thanks.” Gil straightened the brim of his hat.

“Anytime.” Dave lowered his hand to his side as he bent closer to the window. “Did you get any takers at Lonestar to patrol our corner of the neighborhood?” He was waiting to tell Jillian about it after he received confirmation when the patrols would begin. He hoped it would make her feel safer while he was out of town.

“Yep. A guy by the name of Gage Hefner said he’d be glad to do it.” Gil drummed his fingers on the steering wheel while he gave Dave the lowdown on him. “He’s one of Lonestar Security’s newest recruits. An Army Ranger with combat experience. He and I are gonna tag-team the job.”

“You?” Dave was surprised to hear it. He’d figured a simple patrol gig would be passed off to someone with lesser experience.

“Yeah, me.” Gil glared indignantly at him. “It’s Jillian we’re talking about.”

And that’s why we’re still best friends after all these years. The relief flooding Dave’s chest made him want to kneel down and kiss the ground. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

Gil snorted. “I just finished telling you that you’re about to become the godfather of twins. Every time you babysit, that means twice the number of diapers. Twice the number of?—”

“I don’t remember signing up to babysit!” Dave pretended to be indignant.

Gil shook his head. “You are not backing out on me now, bro. Just think of it as more parenting practice,” he wheedled. “Between my kids and yours, you’ll become an expert dad in nothing flat.”

The truth was that the two of them couldn’t wait to become dads — dirty diapers and sloppy kisses included — which felt like the biggest miracle of all.

They grinned like idiots at each other. Dave finally shook his head. “I’m still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that we’re both married with babies on the way. Us! At our age!”

Gil curled his upper lip at him. “Speak for yourself, old man. I’ve never felt better.”

Dave backed away from the door with his hands up. “My apologies. I forgot I was speaking to the stallion of Heart Lake.”

Gil rolled up his window, still grinning, and popped his horn a few times as he drove away.

The rain pelted down harder as Dave rolled his suitcase to the door of the turboprop plane. As he drew closer, he could make out red and blue stripes running down the sides of it. It had propellers jutting out from the front of both wings.

The cabin lights were on, so he had no trouble seeing the pilot lean closer to the window and wave a two-fingered welcome at him.

Dave waved back and waited for the steps to descend. His overcoat was damp by the time he entered the cabin. It was an eight-seater with upscale executive accommodations. The cream leather seats were oversized, with the whole gamut of outlets for cell phone chargers, headsets, and other e-devices.

“Sorry about the weather, sir.” A steward relieved him of his carryon and placed it in the storage compartment. His sandy hair was pulled back in a man bun. He was thin to the point of gaunt with a sprinkling of freckles across the backs of his hands. Diamonds glinted from the cufflinks at the wrists of his pale blue dress shirt. Real ones. Dave’s latest client was sending him into the skies in style.

“Eh, it’s alright.” He shrugged out of his overcoat and handed it to the man. “Farmers need the rain.” Even in January. There were a ton of farmers in town operating greenhouses and producing crops year round.

A jarring clap of thunder drew a frown from the only other passenger to Dave’s right. He neither looked up at Dave, nor made any sign that he’d noticed his entrance.

Dave took the seat closest to the door, facing the guy. He didn’t mind being in the air for a couple of hours with a fellow passenger who happened to be a man of few words. He would get a lot more reading in, and maybe a little shut eye.

His guess was the guy was a Federal Air Marshal. The black dress shirt he was wearing didn’t hide the fact that he was wearing a bullet-proof vest underneath it. Plus, he was openly carrying a pair of weapons in a holster around the waist of his dress slacks. Like Dave, he had a receding hairline. Unlike Dave, he wasn’t wearing his hair shaved to hide that fact.

Though they were probably around the same age, the man had more lines creasing the corners of his eyes. More bags beneath them. There was a hard, shuttered cast to his gaze that told Dave he’d seen recent action — the bullet- flying kind. His gut told him it hadn’t ended well for the other guy.

As Dave settled into his seat and clasped his seatbelt, he experienced the prickly sensation that the marshal was watching him from his peripheral vision. While the pilot went through his pre-flight checks and the steward was rattling around the beverage bar, Dave made an effort to catch the guy’s eye. Sometimes, the best way to break an awkward encounter was to make eye contact and exchange greetings. However, the man continued to stare out the window.

An awkward flight it will be, then. Dave finally gave up trying to be sociable. As the plane rolled to the beginning of the runway and waited for the clearance to take off, he pulled out his cell phone and opened the digital copy of Jillian’s paperwork from the surrogacy clinic.

The plane started moving again almost immediately, quickly picking up speed and ascending into the air. It canted right, circled around, and headed in a northeasterly direction. During the plane’s climb to its cruising altitude, they passed through several pockets of turbulence.

“Good evening, folks.” The pilot’s voice blared across the speaker system, warning his two passengers and single crew member that it was going to be a bumpy flight. “I’m gonna climb a little higher to see if we can find smoother sailing up there. As soon as our steward can serve beverages without giving you an unwanted shower or taking an unplanned seat in your lap, he’ll take your orders.”

Dave’s lips twitched at the pilot’s attempt at humor.

“Thank you for your patience with the weather,” he concluded, “and thank you for entrusting your flight to Eagle Charters.” He switched off his microphone and flew the plane a few thousand feet higher. Unfortunately, the air up there proved to be equally turbulent.

Wondering why the pilot didn’t have a co-pilot assisting him, Dave returned his attention to the agreement Jillian had made with the surrogacy firm in Dallas. It didn’t take long to read through it, which was mildly concerning. He’d been expecting more long-winded legalese — point after nauseating point designed to cover the clinic’s potential liabilities from A to Z at least three times over. Instead, he found himself reading a surprisingly truncated document.

The final addendum to the contract stated that the firm’s client had chosen to exercise the exit clause of their traditional surrogacy agreement. No reason was given. The payments made to Jillian as the biological mother of the child were hers to keep in full. The document went on to state there were no further paternity rights or financial obligations on the part of the surrogacy firm’s client toward her, and she had no legal grounds to demand or receive further compensation for the services she’d rendered. The contract had essentially reverted to a donor agreement — one in which the donor had paid an exorbitant amount of money to impregnate a woman with a child he no longer wanted.

It was complete hogwash, in Dave’s opinion. From what he knew about surrogacy laws in Texas, Jillian most definitely had legal grounds to request further compensation. If she wanted to, she could sue the donor for child support. Assuming she won her case, the donor might convince the court he was due visitation rights in return. It was a murky legal situation at best. He decided on the spot to consult an experienced reproductive lawyer at the soonest opportunity to review the document in his hands .

Not that Jillian and I need one more thing to worry about right now.

Tension radiated through his shoulder blades, tightening the muscles there into knots.

Another pocket of turbulence shook the small airplane, making it bounce like a basketball across the sky. At one point, the aircraft was so buffeted by the wind that it was flying nearly on its side. As Dave gripped the arms of his seat, he wondered again why there wasn’t a co-pilot present.

Lord, please direct the eyes and hands of our solo pilot. Way down deep, he didn’t feel any major alarm. As a man of faith, he was a firm believer he wouldn’t leave this earth until it was his time, and tonight didn’t feel like his time. Not a mere few hours after marrying Jillian. Not on his way to begin working a new case. All available evidence suggested that God still had a plan for his life.

The skinny steward made a gagging sound, making Dave’s sympathy kick in. He sounded motion sick, and anyone in the air this evening who was prone to motion sickness was in real trouble.

The pilot’s voice crackled over the speakers again. He informed them they were experiencing some sort of mechanical issue in the cockpit that made no sense to Dave. “We’re being rerouted to the nearest airport, where we’ll make a short stop for servicing.”

Since Dave didn’t recognize the name of the airport, he assumed it was small and private, like the one they’d departed from in Heart Lake. Though he didn’t relish a delay in reaching Dallas, he appreciated the fact that the pilot was doing everything he could to get them there in one piece.

He felt the plane start its descent. A few short minutes later, the wheels touched down on the pavement with the mildest of bumps.

Dave drew in a deep breath. Though turbulence didn’t normally bother him, he was mighty glad to be back on the ground. Rain sheeted down against the windows, and a blast of wind nearly blew them off the runway. He expected they would remain grounded until the storm passed.

Lightning flashed and thunder rolled as they coasted to a stop. He peered out the window, but couldn’t see much through the rain. There were no outlines of buildings, no lit-up skyline in the distance. Only when he heard the clicking sound of a gun being cocked did he return his attention to what was happening inside the cabin.

To his astonishment, the skinny steward and the unsociable passenger were pointing guns at him.

Dave slowly raised his hands, palms facing out. “Y’all wanna tell me what’s going on?” Nothing good, that’s for sure. His mind raced over the possibilities and quickly discarded the idea of a robbery. He never traveled with much cash, and anyone attempting to swipe his credit card for out-of-the-ordinary transactions would soon find themselves holding a frozen card. Nope, this was something else. Considering the number of criminals he’d helped put behind bars, his best guess was that someone was seeking revenge.

“Your flight’s been diverted, buddy.” The beefy fellow in the black shirt motioned with the butt of his pistol for Dave to stand.

His patronizing tone made something inside of Dave snap. Buddy? What kind of moron held a person at gunpoint and called them buddy? It was an insult on top of injury. Forthcoming injuries, in his case, since the bullets had yet to start flying in his direction.

As he unclasped his seatbelt, he cast a furtive look at the exit door to his left. The pilot was opening it and lowering the stairs to the ground. As best as Dave could tell, the guy wasn’t armed like his two associates were. Either that, or he was too busy getting ready to disembark to pull out his gun yet.

“Don’t try anything stupid,” the skinny steward warned. “Just do as we say, and this will all be over soon.”

I bet it will. The picture of his bullet-ridden carcass in a ditch briefly flashed across Dave’s mind. On the upside, the two men didn’t seem to have any interest in shooting him inside the plane, probably due to how messy forensic evidence was to clean up. Whatever they had planned for him would be taking place after they exited the aircraft.

Which meant his best chance of survival was regaining control of the situation before leaving it.

“Oh, come on,” he cajoled, stalling for time as he mentally assessed the distance between him and the two men. “What kind of charter service are you running here? You didn’t offer me a pillow or a blanket. I didn’t even get my beverage and peanuts. Talk about cheap!”

His words were initially met with stony silence. Then the skinny steward broke into a chuckle that held a note of hysteria. “Sorry about that. It was too turbulent to?—”

“Shut up,” his companion barked. He gestured at Dave again with his weapon. “Turn around and start walking.”

“Sure thing, buddy .” Dave infused an extra dose of snideness into his retort as he stood and slowly spun around. “Where are we going?” He kept his head averted as long as possible to watch his would-be assailants from the corner of his eye.

He saw the beefy fellow hand over a burlap sack to the steward, presumably to place over Dave’s head .

You can’t be serious! Did they honestly expect him to stand there meekly while they acted out some mobster movie fantasy? He was so angry that he snarled, “You’d better throw in a steak dinner or something when we get to wherever we’re going. Otherwise—” The rest of his blustering became muffled when the skinny fellow made a fumbling attempt to pull the burlap sack over his head.

He pretended to gasp and flounder for a second or two, just long enough to play up the drama of the moment and make the thugs behind him feel like they had the upper hand. Then he made his move. He pivoted and crouched into one of his old football stances, then charged.

Back in high school, he’d been nicknamed the D-Dave Invasion in honor of his legendary tackles. A classmate on the school newspaper staff had coined the phrase, claiming it reminded him of the D-Day Invasion tactics on Normandy Beach in France. A frontal attack with no mercy and no retreat.

Dave plowed through the skinny steward, knocking him over like a bowling pin. He must have stepped on one of the guy’s arms, because he started screaming that Dave had broken it. He continued forward, shoving the beefy guy’s gun hand into the air as he body slammed him. The gun went off as they flew through the air together and crashed to the aisle.

Growling like an animal, Dave head butted the man to further stun him and delivered a few punches for good measure.

“Should’ve worn a helmet, buddy .” Man, but the term buddy rubbed him every which way but the right way! He spun around and discovered the screaming steward scrambling to pick up the gun he’d dropped. Dave kicked it out of reach and kneed him in the temple on his way to the door .

The steward slumped back to the floor, blubbering faintly.

Dave kicked the handle off the storage bin and yanked out his carryon. He probably should’ve left it behind, but he was too mad to think straight. Adrenaline was pumping through his blood, making the veins in his neck throb.

He stomped to the doorway of the plane and found himself facing the pilot, who was holding yet another gun.

Can’t catch a break tonight. Even so, Dave almost felt sorry for the guy. He was shivering uncontrollably in the icy rain. There was no way he could shoot straight while shaking that badly. However, now wasn’t the time to test out that theory. Better to play it safe and stay on the offense.

Dave leaped over the stair railing, using his suitcase as a shield, while slinging it forward with all of his might. The pilot’s gun went off while the suitcase was sailing in his direction. The suitcase caught him in the chest as Dave’s feet hit the ground, knocking the pilot backward. He remained where he fell, writhing and panting.

Dave didn’t hang around to assess the situation. He took off running in a zigzag motion to make himself a hard target. The tarmac was slick with freezing rain, making him slip a few times, but he righted himself and kept running. As he put distance between him and the idling turboprop plane, he heard the crack of gunfire. Once. Twice. Three times. He had no way of knowing if one or all three of the goons behind him were shooting at him.

From the dim glow of the moon, he determined he was running on a single-lane airstrip. It appeared to be in the middle of nowhere. Trees lined both sides of it. Out of the sheer will to survive, he veered off into the trees to his right.

He was immediately plunged into darkness, forcing him to slow his pace. Men’s voices shouted in the distance, but they didn’t sound like they were getting any closer. Regardless, Dave wasn’t taking any chances. He trudged deeper into the forest. As he plodded one foot in front of the other, his right shoulder started stinging. The pain swiftly grew more intense.

The next time he passed through a shaft of moonlight, he gave his aching shoulder a cursory glance. A dark trail of blood ran down the white fabric of his dress shirt. Bummer. He hadn’t realized he’d been shot. He was going to have to stop and take a look at it soon.

He also needed to find shelter. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the icy rain had just about soaked him to the skin. Since there were no buildings in sight, he had no choice but to keep moving. He wouldn’t last long in these temperatures if he stopped. The cold wetness felt like it was trying to sink through his bones. Numbness crept up his arms and legs. He fought it by increasing his pace. If he lost consciousness, it was over.

The trees grew abruptly thinner. Hoping he was getting closer to civilization, he forced himself to increase his pace again. A few minutes later, he caught sight of a glow in the distance. The glow became brighter as he drew closer to it.

He stumbled out of the tree line and found himself facing a truck stop and service station. Neon signs advertised that it housed a trio of fast-food restaurants.

Feeling a burst of renewed energy, he broke into a jog and was soon pushing his way through the double glass entrance doors. The sudden blast of fluorescent lighting made him wince.

A lone clerk glanced over the counter at him and grimaced at his appearance. “There’s no wait for the showers, sir. It’ll cost… ”

Dave silenced him by digging in his pocket and producing a few soaked dollar bills. “Sorry about the mess,” he muttered. “Got stranded in the rainstorm.”

“It’s just water. It’ll clean up.” The clerk was an elderly gentleman with a scruffy white beard that reminded Dave of a scraggly Santa. After ringing up his purchase, the man slid the receipt across the counter to him. “Stall number one is all yours, sir.”

“Thanks.” Dave picked up the receipt, instantly dampening the end of it with his wet fingers. “Mind if ask exactly where I hiked to?”

The older man chuckled. “You made it to Smiley’s Truck Stop. ‘Bout ten miles down the road from the last service station. Probably felt more like a hundred miles in this weather. I reckon you broke down somewhere in the middle?”

“Good guess.” Dave gave a rusty chuckle, trying to sound nonchalant. “Was worried I might’ve walked all the way to Mexico.”

“Nope. You’re still in Dallas.”

Dallas? So much for the rogue pilot’s claim about rerouting their flight! Dave swung away from the counter in disgust.

The clerk’s kindhearted gaze landed on his injured arm as he lurched in the direction of the shower stalls. “You’re hurt!” He reached for the store phone. “I’d be glad to call an ambulance for you.”

“Nah, it’s just a scratch, but thanks.” Dave hobbled down the aisle between rows of candy and other junk food, still unable to open his eyes all the way beneath the blast of lights. Reaching the shower in stall one, he shut himself inside and locked the door.

Someone had just tried to shoot him, well…three so meones, and he had no idea if and when they might return to finish the job. He gritted his teeth against the pain as he unbuttoned his sodden dress shirt and peeled it off. His movements caused a fresh trickle of blood to run down his biceps. On the upside, he couldn’t locate a bullet hole. He’d been grazed. Nothing more.

His shoulders slumped in relief. He was fortunate. Very fortunate. Before he spiraled into hypothermia, he tugged off the rest of his soggy clothing and turned on the shower. He stepped beneath the warm spray, grateful to be thawing out again.

Afterward, he kept the water on to keep the room warm while he dialed the one man in the world he’d always been able to trust. As a precaution, he dialed his work number instead of his personal cell phone.

Gil picked up in the middle of the first ring. “Dave?” His voice grated hoarsely across the line.

“It’s me, man.” Dave slicked a hand over his wet head.

“Where are you?” his best friend demanded.

“Dallas, despite an interesting detour.” The most harrowing detour of his life.

“Glad to hear it!” Gil sounded close to weeping from relief. “Your flight status has been listed as rerouted for hours. Naturally, Jillian has been frantic. Have you called her yet?”

“Afraid I’m gonna need you to do that for me.” Dave had no way of knowing if anyone was currently tracking his calls or movements, and the last thing he wanted to do was lead his enemies back to his wife. “So, uh…about that detour. It was an ambush.” He quickly described the weather leading up to the hasty landing of his charter flight, and the ensuing holdup at gunpoint that he’d miraculously escaped from. “I’m starting to get the impression th at someone doesn’t want me taking that case here in Dallas.”

“Sounds like it.” Gil’s voice vibrated with suppressed anger. “I take it you haven’t called the police yet?”

“It’s on my to-do list. At the moment, I’m in a shower stall at a truck stop, washing off blood and staving off hypothermia.”

Gil snorted out a laugh. “Thanks for that mental picture.”

“You’re welcome.” Despite his pain and exhaustion, Dave couldn’t hold back a grin.

“Just so you know,” Gil sounded cautious, “Jillian received another ransom request this evening.”

Dave’s exhaustion fled. “Anything different from the last one?”

“Yep. It had a deadline. Her baby’s due date.”

“Unbelievable!” Rage flooded Dave’s chest. “When I get to the bottom of who’s behind this?—”

Gil kept talking over him. “A third ransom request was delivered in a sealed envelope to your doorstep.”

“What?” Dave’s voice rose nearly to a shout.

“This one was for you.”

“Me?”

“A demand for a million dollars if we ever want to see you again.”

“Please tell me you’re kidding!”

“Wish I was,” Gil sighed.

“Is Jillian, uh…how is she?” Dave couldn’t bear the thought of what she must be going through right now.

“She’s hanging in there. She’ll be better after she hears you’re safe.”

Safe? Dave was alive, but he was in no way convinced that he was safe. But first things first. “Any chance your new hotshot friends at Lonestar Security could help rustle me up a change of dry clothes?”

“In Dallas?” Gil pretended to be aghast. “Just kidding. We’ll have friends on their way shortly. Thirty minutes tops.”

By friends, he was referring to a pair of plain-clothes detectives from the Dallas Police Department and two paramedics in an ambulance. They provided him with a pair of black running pants that were a little too snug and a hoodie that both he and Jillian could have fit inside of at the same time.

“Sorry.” The tallest detective, who’d introduced himself as Detective Miller, shrugged. “It’s the best we could come up with from our lost-and-found bin.” They also provided him with a pair of dry socks that gave him a layer of protection against his damp boots.

While he endured an unwanted medical exam in the back of the ambulance, he gave his official statement to the police. It took some careful wheedling on his part to get them to admit that the turboprop plane he’d been flying in had been hijacked.

Dave scowled in contemplation. “What happened to the original pilots and crew?” He didn’t recall seeing anyone else on the plane other than the three men who’d held him at gunpoint.

Detective Miller exchanged a grim look with his partner. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.” Within the hour, they had a search party scouring the remote airstrip Dave had described to them. They found his sodden suitcase. However, he wasn’t the least bit surprised to hear that the turboprop plane was no longer there. They did, however, find a shell casing located roughly in the same spot the pilot had been standing when he’d shot at Dave .

After a wider search, the bullet was located. It had become lodged in mud at the base of a tree. There were trace amounts of Dave’s blood on it but no fingerprints. Essentially, it was a dead end.

It was the next day before Dave could get his hands on a burner phone. After checking in to his hotel, the first call he placed on it was to his wife.

“Dave?” Though Jillian’s voice was choked with emotion, it reached his ears like a welcome caress. “Is it really you? Please tell me it’s you. Gil said you might call on a number I didn’t recognize, and?—”

“It’s me, babe.” He cradled the phone against his shoulder, aching to have her back in his arms. Moving to the window, he peeked out at the parking lot from behind the curtains. Nothing suspicious caught his attention among the slow-moving cars five stories below his window.

“I’ve never been so scared in all my life,” she confessed breathlessly. “The thought of never seeing you again?—”

“You will,” he assured firmly. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.” He wished he could give her a more specific timeframe.

“I can’t wait.” She sobbed out the words. “I’m so glad you made it to Dallas safely.”

“Me, too.” He didn’t tell her about getting grazed by a bullet. It was something he’d sworn Gil to secrecy on. Jillian had been through enough. Right now, the only thing he wanted her to focus on was carrying a healthy baby to full term. “I love you.” He hadn’t realized it was possible to miss another person this much. He craved her presence right now. Her touch. The way she always made him feel when they were together.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.” Her voice grew dreamy. “Miss you like crazy. ”

“The feeling’s mutual, babe.” He let out a gusty sigh of self-pity over the number of miles currently separating them. “So, uh…I read through that paperwork you signed with the surrogacy firm.”

She drew a tremulous breath. “When did you find the time for that?”

“En route to Dallas.” He omitted the part about how turbulent his flight had gotten. “Bottom line is this. They’re smoke-screening you with the paperwork. Since you’re the biological mother, it’s within your right to sue the donor for child support.”

She fell silent.

“Did you hear me, Jills?”

She started speaking again in a rush. “Is that what you want, Dave? Child support?” Her voice rose incredulously.

“Honestly? I’d rather not risk having them counter-sue you for visitation privileges.”

She made a whimpering sound of protest. “They could do that?”

“In exchange for child support? Yes. Whether visitation privileges would be granted is another story.”

“That’s something I’d rather not risk, either.” She sounded adamant.

“I’m good with whatever you decide, babe. Just wanted you to know your options since the surrogacy firm hasn’t been straight with you.” Dave didn’t like the fact that they’d provided no reason for the donor backing out of the agreement. Had they done it under duress? Were there any extenuating circumstances? He wasn’t a fan of legal loopholes. Loopholes could come back to bite a person.

“I’d much rather return to work and earn my own income,” Jillian continued in the same fervent voice.

“That’s not what this is about.” Getting her to return to work was the last thing Dave had been trying to bring up. He couldn’t have cared less if she ever earned another penny. He made more than enough to provide for their family.

“I know, but I fully intend to pull my weight in our marriage, Dave.” She sounded anxious.

“I’ve never doubted it.” He should’ve put more thought into the topic before bringing it up. He hadn’t meant to upset her or make her feel inadequate.

“I’d like to talk more about this when you get home.” Her voice grew pleading. “I, um…have some ideas about what I’d like to do with the rest of my life.”

“Like loving me and helping me raise a kid?” he teased, though he knew she was referring to her professional endeavors. Knowing her, her ideas would be good ones.

“Those two items are at the tippy top of my list,” she assured softly, “second only to loving and serving God.”

“Where have you been all my life?” he groaned, flopping back against the queen-sized bed in his hotel room. The moment his shoulders connected with the mattress, he regretted the flop. He’d all but forgotten about the wound on his arm.

“Only a few miles down the road from your office while I was working in the ER.” Jillian’s voice was rueful.

“I know, right?” In a town as small as Heart Lake, it was crazy that it had taken so long for them to meet. He spoke through gritted teeth, hoping the pain he was feeling didn’t mean his wound was getting infected. He was probably going to have to pop a few pain pills before his first meeting with his client later this morning. Gil had done him a favor and called Jan Jacobson to apologize for his late arrival.

“Dave, are you okay?” Jillian asked suddenly.

“Yep.” He focused on breathing through the pain .

“You don’t sound okay.”

“If you and the baby are okay, I’m okay,” he assured huskily.

“Right back atcha, big guy, and you’re not okay. I can feel it,” she insisted. “So quit pretending you are. I’m your wife, remember? You don’t have to be okay with me. You can just…be.”

Her words brought tears to his eyes. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”

“Yes, so quit dodging the question and tell me what’s wrong!”

“Man, Jills. I really didn’t want to bother you with this.”

“Nothing that concerns your well-being is bothersome to me, Dave.”

“Fine.” Gil was probably going to slap him silly when he found out his best friend had caved and told his wife everything, but he’d deal with that later. “I was shot at last night. More than once.”

“Oh, honey,” she murmured brokenly.

He gave her the short version of his diverted flight and the ambush that had followed. “It’s only a scrape. If you don’t believe me, I’ll send you a snapshot. The bullet did nothing more than graze my arm.”

“Of course, I believe you!” Her words were drenched in sympathy. “Thanks for telling me the truth. As hard as it is to hear what happened to you, it’s better than not knowing. We’re in this together, you know.”

“I would’ve told you sooner, I just didn’t want you to worry.” To distract himself from the pain in his arm, he pictured her hand on his cheek and her head resting against his shoulder.

“As one really hot guy told me recently, you’re mine to worry about now. ”

“A hot guy, huh? Should I be jealous?” He was two blinks away from breaking down and squalling like a baby. Loving her and being loved by her in return was the most incredible gift God had ever given him. After nearly a lifetime of being alone, it felt good to matter to someone else. To truly matter.

To his surprise, she changed the subject. “I really wouldn’t have minded seeing the D-Dave Invasion in action again, tackling those monsters on the plane and flying like Spiderman over the railing outside.”

He burst out laughing. “From now on, you get to tell the story, babe. Your version is better than mine.”

“Ha! Just go get those guys for us, sweetheart.” Her voice grew low and fierce. “Nail them to the wall for what they did to you.”

“The police are on the case.” Surely she knew that.

She made a scoffing sound. “They’re the kings of inactivity where this Prophet bozo is concerned, and you know it. I’m more convinced than ever that he’s tied to the case you’re working.”

“Agreed.” Maybe it was her mother bear instincts in play, but she was proving to be an unexpectedly resilient attorney’s wife.

“Do what you have to do in the name of justice, but promise me you’ll be extra, extra careful,” she pleaded. “No unnecessary risks, you hear?”

“Roger that, Mrs. Phillips.” He closed his eyes, imagining the next time her lips would brush against his. “You’ve given me two very powerful reasons.” A thought crossed his mind, making him sit straight up in bed. “I was referring to you and our baby.”

“So I gathered.” Her voice was infused with humor. “Who else would you be referring to? ”

“I said two reasons,” he explained quickly, “because I’ve always assumed you’re only carrying one baby. However, a friend recently explained to me that late maternal pregnancies could result in, er…more babies.”

There was a pause on Jillian’s end, followed by a female expulsion of delight. “Oh! My! Lands! Bliss is expecting twins, isn’t she?”

He grinned at her perceptiveness. “You didn’t hear it from me, babe.”

“I kind of did,” she chuckled. “Wow! This is so amazing! Did Gil pass out or what?”

“Almost.” Dave chuckled along with her. “If there’s such a thing as happiness laced with terror…”

“You bet your boots there’s such a thing, esquire,” she shot back. “The past twenty-four hours of my life are proof of that.”

As much as he hated being the cause of her angst, it came with the territory of being married to an attorney who specialized in criminal law. He was kiss-the-ground grateful that she was proving to be up to the task.

“You never answered my question,” he reminded.

“One baby, Dave. That’s all I’m carrying. I hope you’re not disappointed, because the Lord probably knew that was all I could handle.”

“He’s pretty smart.” The relief coursing through Dave was borderline laughable. As much as he was looking forward to starting a family with Jillian, he didn’t relish the thought of juggling two babies at once. “It doesn’t change the fact we’re about to become the godparents of twins.”

“Yeah, but after we spoil them to pieces, we get to hand them back to Gil and Bliss.”

“Good point.” He liked how she thought. “Very good point. ”

“I’m full of them, sweetheart. That’s why you married me,” she joked.

“Among other reasons.” His voice dropped to a silky note. “I can’t wait to come home and show you exactly what I’m talking about.”

“So hurry home,” she whispered.

“That’s the plan.”