Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Marlowe fidgeted in the chair as Kendric and his friends went over the plan for what seemed like the hundredth time. She was nervous, and listening to them talk about what to do if something went wrong wasn’t helping.

She was wearing a pair of onyx earrings, each of which held a tiny camera that recorded visual and audio. Chappy’s Jeep had a camera in the rearview mirror, as well as one on the central high-mount brake light, both filming the interior of the vehicle. She wasn’t wearing any kind of police mic, because no one wanted Ian to accidentally spot it or insist she prove she wasn’t wired.

No one was planning on Ian West getting anywhere near her, but everyone wanted to cover all the bases and make sure they captured the evidence they needed not only to get the charges against Marlowe dropped, but to bring West down at the same time.

The chief of police and his deputies were ready to pounce the second Ian produced the coins—if he actually brought them. There was also a representative from the FBI in town, two from US Customs and Border Protection, and a woman from Homeland Security, who would all be watching the feed from the chief’s office. Rutkey had secured written promises that Marlowe wouldn’t be extradited, since she was cooperating with the authorities to get the priceless artifacts returned.

Of course, if Ian didn’t produce the coins, or he didn’t admit to his role in Marlowe’s arrest, things could get messy for all three agencies, since she was still technically an escaped fugitive. They were all banking on Ian not being able to keep his mouth shut.

Everyone wanted to take him down, but they had to have irrefutable proof that he’d broken the law. Any good lawyer would be able to rip apart a circumstantial case. So it was up to Marlowe to not only get Ian to admit he’d pilfered from the dig site—and framed her for the pills—but convince him to actually give up one of the coins.

It was a lot of pressure, and honestly, Marlowe was second-guessing her insistence on being the one to meet with her former coworker. What did she know about being undercover? Nothing. That’s what.

She much preferred to be hanging out with Kendric when he was on a job.

Their hike to Table Rock two days ago was awesome. It was much nicer being in the woods of Maine than the jungles of Thailand. They’d laughed as they’d hiked and talked about nothing and everything. And he’d been right, the view from the huge boulder that seemed to be hanging off a precipice as if by magic was spectacular. Even the turkey-and-ham sandwiches Kendric had made them for lunch seemed to taste better when enjoyed with an amazing view.

She couldn’t wait to see the same view in the fall when the trees were changing colors. Kendric had promised to bring her back.

Then yesterday, she’d gotten her wish to accompany Kendric when he’d been called out to cut down a tree that looked as if it was one storm away from crushing a house. She’d been fascinated by the precision and planning it took to ensure the tree didn’t fall in the wrong direction and cause property damage or hurt someone.

And seeing her husband in a tight T-shirt, his muscles bulging as he operated the chain saw and cut the tree into manageable pieces, wasn’t exactly a hardship. She’d helped him pick up the smaller pieces and load them into a trailer, and throughout it all, she couldn’t stop smiling.

Now she was back in the small interrogation room at the police station, getting ready to meet with the last person she’d ever wanted to see again.

“Are you listening, Marlowe?” the chief of police asked.

Mentally scolding herself, she nodded.

“Good. Because once you get in that Jeep, you’re on your own. We’ll be listening, and people here at the station will be watching, but we won’t be there to give you advice or tell you what to say.”

Marlowe nodded again, chastised. She knew this was high stakes for everyone involved, but she simply wanted to go back home and climb into bed with Kendric. He’d woken her up early and had made slow, sweet love to her. She was nearing the end of her period, and he made it seem like not a big deal at all . . . which was a refreshing change from some other men she’d been with, who’d acted as if she had the plague when it was that time of the month.

Everythingto do with Kendric was going amazingly well. He’d even brought up last night how he was looking into the details involved to make sure their marriage was legal here in the States. She loved him so much, it was almost scary.

“I’m thinking the faster you get to the point, the better,” Chief Rutkey said. “Just like you did on the phone. Get him to give you one of the coins if he brought them, try to get him talking about the drugs found in your tent, but don’t push too hard. And get out of there as quick as you can. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, we’ve got thirty minutes until go time. We all need to be in place and ready, if and when our mark shows up. Marlowe, we’ll do some audio and visual checks before you head out. Two of my deputies will be playing Frisbee at the park and can get to you in seconds if you need them. Bob and JJ will be in the woods around the parking lot. Cal and Chappy will be in their cars down the street. As soon as West arrives, I’ll be blocking traffic along Highway 2 to make sure he can’t get away, and the reps from the various agencies will be here, watching and listening to everything. We’ve got this.”

Marlowe was reassured by all the planning the chief had done. It was highly unlikely anything would go wrong, but if it did, there were a lot of people who would be nearby, ready to help.

April, Carlise, and June had insisted that as soon as the meeting was over, she come to Jack’s Lumber, where they’d be waiting to hear all about how it went . . . with champagne. They wanted to celebrate Marlowe successfully taking down Ian. She was humbled by their confidence.

Knowing she had such good friends, and so many people at her back, made her feel a little more confident about what she was about to do. But she was still uneasy. She’d been a little rash in suggesting she take center stage at his takedown, but she’d so desperately wanted to help. To ensure Ian suffered the consequences for what he’d done.

Everyone began to stand up, and sudden panic made it hard for Marlowe to breathe. But then Kendric was there. He took her elbow and helped her stand, leading her out of the small room and toward the front door of the station.

The soup she’d had for lunch before they’d left the apartment churned in her stomach.

Kendric led her toward Chappy’s Jeep and turned her so her back was to the door. Then he took her in his arms and held her so tightly, it was almost painful. But she welcomed the slight hurt. She held him just as securely.

“I’m going to be just out of sight,” he murmured into her hair as he held her. “I’ll be patched into the audio feed, so I’ll be able to hear everything that’s going on. You’ve got this, Punky. I’ve got your back, and all my friends do too.”

She nodded and closed her eyes. It wasn’t until then that she realized how badly she was shaking. The hair on the back of her neck was standing up. She wanted to call this whole thing off, but it was too late. The chief had already set everything up. His deputies had been taken off other jobs to assist. The other agency representatives were in town, leaving the physical surveillance to Chief Rutkey and his officers. Kendric’s friend Tex had overnighted the earrings.

So many people had done their part in what was about to happen. She had to suck it up and do hers.

Not to mention, Ian was almost there. The mysterious Tex had been tracking traffic cameras, letting everyone know his progress as he headed north.

“Bob? It’s time!” JJ called out.

Marlowe took a deep breath and let her arms loosen around Kendric. He held on for a beat longer before moving his hands up to cradle her face. “Whatever happens, know that I’m here,” he said earnestly. “If shit goes sideways, you just hang on, stay in your role. I’ll get you out.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Marlowe reassured him, only half believing what she was saying. “Ian will pull up, we’ll talk through our windows, he’ll give me a coin. Easy peasy.”

Kendric’s expression didn’t lighten in the least. “Tonight,” he said, “we move on with the rest of our lives.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

“We’ll start looking around here for a house with several bedrooms for our kids. I’ve got a ring that I was going to surprise you with, but you know I suck at secrets. It’s waiting for you back at the apartment. I’m going to put it on your finger, and it’s never coming off.”

She smiled at that. “All right.”

“You’re mine,” he said fiercely. “My friend, my inspiration, my love.”

“I love you,” she whispered.

“Not more than I love you. Now . . . go kick some butt.”

“I will.”

Marlowe wanted to cry again, but she held back her tears. She needed to look tough, not greet Ian with a blotchy face and red eyes. She’d see Kendric again in less than an hour. They’d celebrate with the girls back at Jack’s Lumber and go home, she’d get her ring, and then she’d show him exactly how much she loved and appreciated him.

It was eerie how alone she felt as she drove Chappy’s Jeep toward the park. Even knowing people were listening and watching her, she still felt as if she was the only person in the world at that moment.

Her heart beat way too fast in her chest and her hands shook as she parked the Jeep in the spot that had already been staked out ahead of time. She saw two men about fifty yards away, Newton officers, playing Frisbee in the grass. Their car was the only other one in the lot.

Looking into the trees, she couldn’t see any glimpse of JJ or Kendric, but they were there. She knew that down to her toes. She could do this.

Taking a deep breath, Marlowe removed her seat belt. Kendric had told her to do so, wanting to be sure she could bolt out of the car if necessary. Minutes seemed to go by like hours. Ian was apparently mostly on time, but there weren’t traffic cameras on the outskirts of Newton, so they were flying blind as far as his exact arrival time was concerned.

Just when Marlowe didn’t think he was going to show, that he’d changed his mind and turned around and headed back to Boston, a black older-model Honda Civic pulled into the parking area.

Her heart immediately started pounding once again as adrenaline shot through her. Marlowe took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm herself. Ian parked to her right, backing into the spot. He rolled down his window, motioning for her to do the same.

Marlowe did as he asked, glad that things were going according to plan.

But that feeling disappeared with his next words.

“Get in,” he ordered, gesturing to his car.

Thatwasn’t part of the plan. She’d specifically been told several times not to get out of the Jeep. Not to go anywhere. To stay right where she was.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Do you think I’m stupid? You’ve probably got your car wired. I don’t trust you. Get in and we’ll go somewhere else to talk.”

“I don’t trust you either,” Marlowe said, feeling the same irritation and bravado that she’d had while talking to him on the phone.

“Then you aren’t getting the coin,” Ian said flatly. “Your choice.”

“And you’ll go straight to jail. No collecting two hundred bucks,” she countered.

Ian studied her, and Marlowe had a split second of relief, thinking she’d be able to stay put in the Jeep . . .

Before he lifted his hand—and she was staring down the barrel of a gun.

“Now. Or you’re dead,” Ian threatened.

Her stomach dropped violently. Just a few feet separated their cars. Too close for Ian to miss. Yes, he’d definitely be arrested if he shot her—but it would be too late for Marlowe. If she complied, at least she’d have a slim chance of surviving.

Reluctantly, she reached for the handle of the Jeep.

She could practically hear everyone watching and listening, screaming at her to stay put, but she couldn’t let this deal fall through now. If she died, it couldn’t be for nothing.

She climbed out of the Jeep and slammed the door, standing there for a moment with her hands on her hips. “You want to strip-search me as well?” she asked sarcastically, doing everything in her power to stall, to give someone time to get to her.

But no one came. Either something was wrong with the audio and video, or the officers playing Frisbee weren’t aware of what was happening. Which seemed unlikely. The whole reason they were there was for her safety.

“Get in,” Ian ordered. “Hurry up.”

Marlowe held her breath as she reached for the door handle. She couldn’t imagine why the officers weren’t intervening, why Kendric and JJ weren’t rushing in from the forest the second they saw the gun.

Like a bolt of lightning, it struck her that if anyone moved in, Ian would shoot her before they could get near her. It was the logical conclusion—and Kendric and the others would know that.

It totally sucked, but she understood it.

She had no choice but to finish what she’d started . . . and trust that Kendric would get her out of this, just like he’d gotten her out of that prison.

The second she was inside the car, Ian pulled out of the parking space and took off. There was no sign of Chief Rutkey, and Marlowe couldn’t decide if she was pleased or upset about that. She imagined there was a lot of scrambling going on to figure out how to follow them while not being spotted.

She also didn’t see the roadblocks that were supposed to be put up after Ian pulled into the park. She wasn’t sure what happened to them. Maybe they just hadn’t had time to put them up yet? Ian had acted very quickly, after all. She was in his car seconds after his arrival.

“Where are we going?” she asked as Ian turned east, both for her own knowledge and for those listening.

“There’s a cemetery not too far from here. I figure that’ll be private. I’ll be able to see if anyone follows us.”

Marlowe rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as she spoke with more bravado than she was actually feeling. “No one’s following us. Haven’t you figured that out yet? I’ll be in just as much trouble as you if anyone sees you giving me a coin. I’m not an idiot.”

Ian didn’t respond, simply kept driving. It took longer than Marlowe would’ve liked to reach the cemetery. And he was right. There was absolutely no one around, and to her dismay, there weren’t a ton of trees either. So it would be harder for anyone to hide and come to her rescue if needed.

If she thought she was alone before, she felt even more so now.

Ian parked the car in the parking lot and unclipped his seat belt. Marlowe hadn’t even put hers on; it had simply slipped her mind with everything else happening.

“So?” she asked. “You have the coins?”

“I don’t get it,” Ian said conversationally, not moving to reach into his pocket, or the glove compartment, or the console between them. Anywhere he might have stashed the coins.

Marlowe sighed. “Don’t get what?”

“How the hell you’re here. No matter how good your lawyer is, Thailand is known for locking people up for life for drug offenses.”

“Yeah, well, too bad for you, I also have a powerful brother. Now stop stalling. Give me my coin and take me back to the park.”

“I thought you were a pushover,” he went on, staring at her with dead blue eyes.

Marlowe resisted the urge to shiver. She had to stay strong. Make him believe she wasn’t bluffing. She looked straight at him, wanting to get everything he said on video and audio.

“I had you pegged for a Goody Two-shoes. Weak,” he said. Then he smiled slightly, the look so sinister, her gut clenched. “I mean, look how easy it was to plant those drugs in your tent that night. It was bad luck that you caught me with the coins, especially since that dig was one of the easiest ones to steal from yet. You were a complication that I thought I’d already dealt with.”

“And yet, here I am,” Marlowe said darkly, her heart beating so fast she felt almost light headed. He’d admitted to planting the drugs and stealing the coins! Actually admitted it!

“Here you are,” he agreed.

“So you’ve done this before? Stolen artifacts from other digs?” she asked, knowing this was also important info.

“Of course. It’s not hard. People pay top dollar for arrowheads and shards of pottery and other stupid shit they think means something.”

Marlowe frowned. “Then why are you living with your parents?”

Ian chuckled mirthlessly. “Subterfuge. It wouldn’t be smart for someone as young as I am to flaunt my wealth. And believe me, I am rich. I’ve got money socked away in several foreign banks, and when the time is right, I’m going to move somewhere with lots of sun and easy women, and live happily ever after.”

Marlowe’s blood ran cold. She’d had no idea this baby-faced moron was a hardened criminal. She suddenly felt way out of her league and wanted to go back to the park, now. “Great. Woo-hoo, you’re rich. But you still owe me, Ian. You had me thrown in a damn foreign prison. I want my share. Give me the coin and you can go on your way. I’ll go mine, and we’ll call it even.”

Ian laughed again, and Marlowe’s skin crawled at the sinister sound. He’d kept the gun in his hand throughout the drive, and now he placed it on the dashboard, then leaned to his left and reached into his pants pocket. He fumbled a bit, then drew his hand out.

“You mean these coins?” he asked.

And there, sitting on his palm, were three innocent-looking coins. They each had a hole in the middle and seemed completely ordinary. But Marlowe knew she was looking at something worth millions.

Irrationally, she had the urge to scold him like a child, tell him he shouldn’t be handling ancient coins with his bare hands, that the oils from his skin could literally disintegrate the metal of the precious artifacts. But she managed to swallow the words.

She reached for his hand, wanting to get this over with, but he fisted the coins and said, “Ah ah ah, not so fast.”

“What now?” Marlowe seethed, trying to sound annoyed instead of completely freaked out.

“How do I really know you aren’t going to turn me in the second you have one of these coins in your hand?”

She huffed impatiently. “How many damn times do I have to spell it out for you? If you go down, I go down. I can’t explain it any simpler! I’m done going on digs. I’m sick of it. Sick of not speaking the languages, sick of the dirt, sick of not getting the money I deserve for the work I do. I want to settle down right here in Nowhere, Maine. Live off the money from the sale of that coin. I deserve it. After everything you put me through, after all the work I’ve done for other countries to save their heritage, I’m owed this!”

He stared at her for a long moment before nodding. “Yeah, you probably are,” he agreed.

Just when Marlowe felt as if this was going to be over soon, he lunged.

“What are you—!”

That was all she got out before her words were cut off by the hand closing around her throat.

Immediately, her own hands flew to his fingers, trying to pry them off her neck. But it was no use. Ian was taller, meaner, and stronger than she was.

Before she could blink, he’d hauled her up and over the front seat to the back.

He slammed her onto the back seat and brought his other hand up to join the first, wrapping it around her throat.

“Fucking whore! No one blackmails me!” he gritted out as he tightened his hold. “I’m not giving you a damn penny. You should’ve stayed where you were, locked away in that shithole prison. You’re a pain in my ass, and there’s no way you’re getting a fucking cent! I was gonna shoot you in the head, but that would be too easy. I want you to look me in the goddamn eye while I watch the light go out in yours!”

Marlowe wasn’t thinking about anything other than getting oxygen. She raked her fingernails down his face, but he growled and simply held on tighter. She kicked, tried to use her knees to throw him off her, dug her nails into the skin of his hands.

And he still didn’t loosen his hold even a fraction.

“Die, already! Just fucking die!” he shouted as he leaned forward, putting more weight on her neck.

Blackness began to creep in behind Marlowe’s eyelids—and she had a moment of such sorrow, it felt as if she was having a heart attack. Everything she wanted to do, she’d no longer get the chance. Her life with Kendric. Watching her nephew and niece grow up. Celebrating the births of her new friends’ babies, having her own . . .

Everything was being taken away from her because she thought she was some sort of badass undercover spy.

Her last thought before blackness overwhelmed her was of Kendric. How he’d probably blame himself for not protecting her. Even though it was Marlowe who’d been stupid enough to get into Ian’s car.

Kendric would start having nightmares again, would never forgive himself for what he’d perceive as his own mistakes . . . and it was all Marlowe’s fault.

Panic threatened to overwhelm Bob as he watched West drive out of the park with Marlowe in the passenger seat. He was utterly livid that she’d gotten into the man’s car, but even more pissed at the officers in the park for not preventing it from happening. Something had briefly interrupted their audio, so he didn’t know what West had said or done to get her in the car, but now her life was in serious danger. He knew it down to his bones.

Their departure from the park left everyone scrambling to follow. Rutkey hadn’t had a chance to put the roadblocks in place, and he was still trying to troubleshoot the faulty audio feed for the officers at the park when West pulled out. They could all hear the conversation in the car and knew exactly where they were headed. Bob hadn’t been to the cemetery Ian was allegedly driving toward, but he’d been in the area on a job in the past.

Cal’s SUV careened to a stop in the parking lot, and he and JJ hopped in. Before the door was even shut, Cal was moving. Bob heard Chief Rutkey talking to his deputies on the radio, but it was as if the man was speaking down a long tunnel. All Bob’s concentration and thoughts were of Marlowe.

There was only one road leading to the cemetery, and thankfully there was a large curve right before the entrance, which allowed Cal’s vehicle—and those of the other officers and Chappy—to stay out of sight. Bob didn’t even wait for Cal to stop before he opened the door and ran toward the scant grouping of trees way too far from the parking lot.

He and JJ went to their bellies and crept as close as they dared while watching the Civic. They could hear the conversation between Marlowe and West as if they were standing right by the car, but they couldn’t see what was happening. They didn’t have access to the video portion of the recording. Only the agents back at the station in Newton were watching.

Bob stiffened when he heard West brag about how rich he was, how he was going to move somewhere warm with his ill-gotten gains.

“This guy’s unhinged,” JJ whispered.

Bob nodded. He was, and they’d all missed it. They’d assumed he was a harmless kid, taking advantage of an opportunity for crime. While he might be young, he was anything but harmless.

“We need to get her out of there,” he told his former team leader. In situations like this, they all fell back into the familiar roles they’d played while on missions for the Army.

“I know,” JJ said. “But there’s no cover. The second we stand up, he’ll see us, and Marlowe is a sitting duck in there with him.”

Bob scowled with frustration.

He heard West ask, “You mean these coins?”

Bob assumed he’d finally revealed them. Satisfaction swam through his blood. West had screwed himself. No matter what happened, Marlowe would get those coins on video. Ian had proved to everyone that he really did have the artifacts, that he’d stolen from a dig site, just like he’d apparently done many other times before.

West replied, “Yeah, you probably are,” in response to Marlowe’s statement about being owed—then a loud scuffling sounded over the audio.

Bob frowned, trying to see what was happening in the car. He could only see shadows, and . . .

And the car rocking slightly, from the movements of the people inside.

The hair on the back of his neck stood straight up, and Bob felt sick. Something was wrong.

“Fucking whore!No one blackmails me! I’m not giving you a damn penny. You should’ve stayed where you were, locked away in that shithole prison. You’re a pain in my ass, and there’s no way you’re getting a fucking cent! I was gonna shoot you in the head, but that would be too easy. I want you to look me in the goddamn eye while I watch the light go out in yours!”

Bob was on the move before West had barely begun speaking. He had no idea what was happening, but it was bad. He knew that without a doubt. He saw Cal and Chappy running toward the car from the other side of the parking area. They’d obviously managed to work their way around and hide out in the scant trees, or maybe even behind the tombstones.

Bob felt as if he was running through molasses. He couldn’t get to the car fast enough. The woman he loved was in danger, and he couldn’t get there! It was as if he was living one of his many nightmares. Not being able to get to his teammates when they were being tortured.

He ran and ran, but didn’t seem to get any closer.

Then he heard West shout, “Die, already! Just fucking die!”—and Bob nearly had a heart attack right then and there.

Suddenly, he wasn’t running anymore. He was slamming into the car.

He wrenched the door open and grabbed West by the back of the shirt and hauled him off Marlowe’s eerily still body, onto the gravel lot. He punched the man in the face once. Twice.

He had his fist cocked back to punch him again, but JJ caught his arm.

“Bob! Marlowe. See to Marlowe!”

Without hesitation, Bob let go of West’s shirt and turned back to the car. He vaguely heard JJ dragging West’s unconscious body away, but all his attention was on Marlowe.

He was afraid to touch her for a second. Then his brain kicked in. He’d seen West’s hands around her throat, but he prayed it hadn’t been long enough to kill her. It took no time at all to make someone pass out, but several minutes to kill someone by strangulation, and she’d been talking not that long ago . . .

He crouched in the open car door and leaned over the woman he loved, putting two fingers to her carotid artery—and the relief that swept through him at the feel of her steady pulse would’ve brought him to his knees if he wasn’t there already.

“Marlowe!” he yelled.

To his surprise and relief, her eyes popped open, and she gasped. Then she began to thrash and fight. Her arm flew up, and her fist popped him right in the eye. It hurt like a mother, but Bob didn’t back away.

“It’s me!” he shouted. “Kendric!”

She was lost in her terror, and either didn’t hear him or didn’t understand. She tried to sit up, but Bob grabbed her shoulders.

“No! Nononononono!” she yelled as she fought and kicked.

Even as he struggled to subdue her as gently as possible, Bob couldn’t help but be proud of her for fighting with everything she had. “You’re safe! It’s me, Kendric. He can’t hurt you anymore, you’re good,” he reassured her.

It took several more seconds of his calm words to break through her panic. Before she finally stilled and looked up at him.

“Kendric?” she croaked.

“Yeah, Punky, it’s me. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Bob expected her to burst into tears. Instead, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and simply nodded.

“Marlowe?” he asked gently, concerned about her unexpected reaction.

“Did you get him? Did they get all that on tape?”

“Yes, and I’m assuming also yes.”

“Good. Can we please go now?”

Worried that she was suffering from shock, from the idea that she’d almost died, Bob lifted his head to look at Chappy, who was crouched in the back door opposite him, the same concern reflected in his gaze.

“In a second,” Bob reassured her. “Can you sit up?”

She nodded and slowly sat up. Bob moved to sit on the seat next to her, his arm around her back. “Do you feel dizzy? Light headed?”

“No,” she said. “Although I could use some water or something. My throat hurts.”

Of course it did. West had his damn hands around her neck. Bob could see dark bruises already forming on the skin of her throat, and it made him want to finish what he’d started when he’d hauled the asshole out of the back seat.

He forced himself to stay next to Marlowe as he said, “Yeah, Punky, we’ll get you a water real soon.”

She looked down at her hands then, and frowned. She held them up. “I scratched him,” she said.

Bob saw blood under her fingernails. She’d done more than scratch West. She’d gouged the hell out of his skin. He took hold of one of her hands, and to his surprise, found his own eyes filling with tears. His lip began to quiver.

He’d never been as scared as he’d been in the seconds between realizing something was wrong, and when he’d reached the car.

He’d almost been too late. He’d promised to have her back, that he’d keep her safe, and yet, West had almost killed her with his bare hands.

A sob escaped, and Bob frantically tried to stop the others that wanted to follow. Marlowe was alive, but she wasn’t all right. She was acting as if she was in a fog. She was clearly in shock, and it was the most distressing thing he’d ever witnessed.

But when he made another choked sound, Marlowe turned to look at him. She stared for a beat, then blinked.

And that seemed to be all it took for his Marlowe to return. One blink.

“No,” she said firmly, shaking her head.

“No what?” Bob managed.

“You don’t get to feel guilty. I knew you would. As I lay there under him, and he was choking me, I knew you’d blame yourself. It was my last thought. Stop, Kendric,” she begged. “You got him. You saved me. We’re going to have a ton of babies and live happily ever after. Got it?”

Bob couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“Good. Can you please get me out of this stinky car now? I have a celebration to get to.”

Bob looked behind him at the still-unconscious Ian West. JJ had trussed him up so tightly, he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Bob could hear sirens coming in hard as well. His hand flexed as he thought about hitting West one more time, but a touch of Marlowe’s hand to his arm had him forgetting about the man in an instant.

“Kendric?”

“We’re going,” he told her, gesturing to the other door, where Chappy was still hovering. He didn’t want her even looking at West. “But we’re going to make a stop at the clinic before we do anything else.”

“I’m fine,” Marlowe insisted as she scooted across the seat.

“Humor me,” Bob pleaded.

Chappy grasped her hand and carefully helped her out of the car. Bob was immediately at her side. Marlowe turned to him and leaned her forehead against his chest. They stood like that for a long moment, soaking in the fact that they were both alive and well.

He caught a glimpse of Chief Rutkey running toward them as other officers screamed into the lot, sirens blasting, driving way too fast.

Marlowe looked up at Bob and smiled. “Men and their toys,” she joked quietly.

Bob closed his eyes for a fraction. He’d almost lost this. Her. He needed her so badly, had no idea what he’d have done without her. By the grace of God, today wasn’t the day he’d find out.

He opened his eyes and touched a gentle finger to her neck.

Marlowe reached up and took his finger in her grasp. “I’m okay. Honestly.”

Bob nodded.

They both turned as Alfred Rutkey reached them. “Are you okay?” he barked gruffly.

“Yes,” Marlowe said. “Did you get it? Was it enough?”

Alfred smiled. It was a satisfied and almost bloodthirsty grin. “It was more than enough,” he told her.

“Good. Oh! He had a gun,” she blurted.

Bob thought his knees might give out yet again at hearing that. He clutched her to him even tighter as she continued.

“That’s why I got in his car. The only reason. It was either get in and hope I survived, or let him shoot me in Chappy’s car.” She turned to Bob. “I had to do it. If there was even the slightest chance I’d get back to you . . .”

Bob couldn’t possibly love this woman any more than he did right that moment.

Before he could speak, Rutkey nodded and said, “We know. Got a call from one of the agents watching the feed. You were in the car before I could even notify my officers on the scene, but I wouldn’t have let them intervene regardless. The chance of Ian shooting you if he realized he was being watched was too high.”

Marlowe seemed to take that information in stride. She nodded, then said, “I don’t know where the coins went. He was holding them when he grabbed me. They might be on the floorboards or something. But . . . if it’s okay, Kendric and I are going to leave. We’ll be at Jack’s Lumber if you need a statement. Although I’m probably going to have too many drinks, so it might be better if you waited until tomorrow to talk to me.”

The police chief smiled. “All right. I think we’re good. I mean, we have the recordings, so there’s no pressing need to interview you immediately.”

“Right.”

“Although, if I can make a suggestion?” Alfred said, still smirking.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t forget to take off those earrings. Wouldn’t want you broadcasting anything you’ll be embarrassed about later.”

Marlowe looked up at Bob, and he almost melted at the look of love on her face. “Right, I’ll do that,” she agreed.

Bob could practically read her mind. He wanted to take her straight home, strip her, and check every inch of her body to make sure she really was all right. Then he wanted to bury himself inside her and not leave for the rest of the night.

“Party,” she said, as if she could read his mind.

“Doctor, then party,” he countered.

Marlowe pouted but took a deep breath and nodded.

She turned to Chappy then, and surprised him by hugging him hard. “Thank you for having my back.”

“You’re family,” he said simply.

Marlowe grinned.

Bob wasn’t surprised when they stopped near JJ on the way to Cal’s SUV, and she hugged and thanked him too. She also thanked the deputies and the chief, and when she got to Cal, wrapped her arms around him as well. “Thanks for getting here so fast . . . although I’d expect nothing less from a car that costs more than most houses.”

Cal grinned. “Knew there was a reason I bought this car.”

Bob helped Marlowe into the back seat, then turned to Cal. He was suddenly at a loss for words. His teammates had been there for him without question once again. He’d lied and gone behind their backs, and yet they still hadn’t hesitated to support him and Marlowe when they needed them most.

Cal shook his head. “No, mate. I get it. I’ve been where you are. When June was lying on that floor, bleeding out . . .” His voice trailed off before he cleared his throat. “I was going to get you here before it was too late, no matter what.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now come on, let’s get Marlowe looked at, then we’ll go meet everyone at the office.”

Bob had a feeling Cal needed to see June, to make sure she was all right. Everything that just happened had reminded him of almost losing his wife, and yet he was still going to stick with him and Marlowe until she was cleared by the doctor.

Surprising himself, and Cal, Bob grabbed his friend and gave him a hard hug, thumping him on the back before letting him go. “Right. Let’s get this hunk of junk moving,” Bob quipped.

Cal chuckled. “Hunk of junk, my arse,” he mumbled before climbing behind the wheel of the ridiculously expensive SUV.

Bob carefully buckled Marlowe’s seat belt before doing the same for himself. Then he took Marlowe into his arms once again. It would be a long time before he’d be able to stop touching her, but he didn’t even care. That had been way too close of a call.