Linda Conrad - In Safe Hands

Absently, she fingered the protection charm that was tied to a leather thong around her neck, reminding herself of the alternate ways to defend herself, in lieu of wielding ordinary weapons. Her thoughts turned to her Mexican grandmother, Abuela Lupe, and all the lessons in witchcraft and magic she’d learned at her knee.

Maggie had also learned a few lessons in self-defense from her Irish-American private-investigator grandfather before he died, and those would serve her well. But right now she thanked goodness for Abuela Lupe. Her Mexican curandera grandmother had located this dangerous-looking man in her crystals and then told Maggie where and when to find him.

All that Maggie knew so far was that his name was Colin and he was the key to solving all of her problems.

He took her by the arm and dragged her closer. “I expect an explanation—now,” he demanded in his clipped English accent. “What’s all this nonsense?”

His touch sent heat scorching through her body. She couldn’t remember a time that she’d had such a spontaneous, emotional response to a man. Well, not since the idiocy of an ill-advised engagement during her college years. If she’d had a mind to start that kind of thing again, this intense man, with his quiet British accent, his tailored slacks and expensive black leather jacket, would not be her choice of fiancé.

“Can we…um…sit down? To talk.” Looking around, she found that the only chair had papers stacked on the seat.

He scooped up the papers and moved them to the bed. “Sit, then.” Folding his hands behind his back in military style, Colin began to pace up and down the tiny room.

“What or who could be so important, Maggie Ryan,” he said with an arrogant half smile, “that you sought me out through…a…” He shot his hand in the air as if lost for words. “What? How did you find me? A magic spell?”

He didn’t know how close to the truth that was.

Maggie sat on the shaky chair with its one leg shorter than the others and stared up at him. “I’ve come all the way from south Texas to find answers about a lost child. It’s the most important thing in the world. I’m trying to locate relatives for the orphaned baby girl in my custody. It’s vital that—”

“Why me? Why come looking for me?”

Instead of answering she threw a question back at him. “You don’t live in this room, do you? This can’t be your home.”

It was a good guess, since her grandmother had been so specific about her arriving at this place at just the right time. Besides, this man didn’t look as if he belonged in a dump like this one.

She sucked up a breath and took a chance. “Why are you here?”

Colin’s whole body seemed to jerk at her question. The smile disappeared and the dangerous man returned. She could see the change in those glacial eyes.

Bloody hell, Colin thought. She knows something and she’s just playing games.

He swept closer, loomed over her, grabbed a handful of her hair. With a swift jerk, he tugged her head back, exposing the exquisite, smooth column of her neck.

“You haven’t answered my question. Stop playing around. What do you know about my brother? Tell me quick, love, or I’ll break that pretty neck of yours.”

Maggie blinked. “Let go of my hair.” She said it in a steady voice, though he could feel her trembling.

Without warning, a heated tingle traveled from her silky hair into his fingers and right up his arm. He released her involuntarily and rubbed his hands together to quiet the electric jolt he’d experienced.

“Your brother?” she asked, acting as if nothing happened when he released her. “I’m not sure. I mean…what’s your brother’s name?”

Outside the filthy window, winter storm clouds covered the moon. Colin’s heart clouded over, too, with a gut instinct about what this eccentric beauty would say. For months now, he’d been feeling that the worst had happened. But he needed to hear the words.

“His name is John Fairfax,” Colin managed to say in a strangled voice. “And if you know anything about his whereabouts, you had better speak up.”

She looked thoughtful. “That could be it, I guess. The man’s name was John. But the last name was Sheridan.” She paused. “What’s your full name?”

Suddenly furious with her for answering questions with more questions, he growled, “Sir Colin Fairfax, Baron Derwent. Also referred to recently as Major Colin Fairfax of the Third Royal Tank Regiment, Her Majesty’s British Army, retired. Look, skip over any other questions that may pop into that lovely head of yours and get to the point. What do you know of John?”

Suddenly weary, Colin turned his back on her and began pacing again. She had used the past tense. He knew what that implied. His younger brother, the one he had lost track of several years ago due to his own misplaced arrogance and indifference, was very likely dead.

Maggie heard the hoarse but heartfelt words and began to experience Colin’s growing misery herself, by way of empathic sympathy. “I have to start with the story of the baby.”

Looking up into his bleak eyes as he strode by, she wished she wasn’t so sure about the facts. “That’s how I got involved in the first place. I live near the border, and about six months ago a couple and their two-month-old daughter were involved in a terrible car crash on our side of the river. The couple died on impact, but the baby in the backseat survived.”

Sighing, she continued. “The sheriff asked me to take the child into my home, as our isolated county doesn’t have any local child welfare services. My neighbor, who runs a day-care center, helps me out when needed.” Maggie swallowed hard, wishing she could be wrong but knowing full well she wasn’t, and went on. “I’m a trained private investigator, so I’ve been looking into the deceased’s backgrounds ever since I took in the child, trying to trace any relatives of the little girl.”

A perplexed expression crossed Colin’s face as he quit pacing and slowly shook his head. “I don’t understand. Are you saying my brother married? Fathered a child? Impossible. I would’ve known.”

“How long has it been since you’ve seen him?” Maggie asked, going on instinct. “Why are you searching for information about your own brother?”

Even in the dim lighting of the sordid room, Maggie could clearly see the pain streak through Colin’s eyes. She hurt for him. If it had been one of her brothers…

Nevertheless, she was still wary. When Colin accepted the facts, would he be willing to leave Emma in her care? Or would he do the unthinkable and demand she hand over his niece? Maggie’s life would stop if that happened. She needed this child. Emma had become her heart—her only chance. With cold fear trickling through her at the possibilities, Maggie reminded herself to take things slow and not jump ahead.

“I…uh…” Colin looked around, staring absently at his surroundings as if he’d only just arrived. “Our family was divided when John and I were children, ages ten and twelve, respectively. As the eldest, I stayed in my father’s care, went to his old school and joined his regiment in due course. John went with our mother to her family’s ancestral home in Ireland.” The words, sounding as if they were spoken by rote, seemed to grow small in Colin’s throat. “As long as my father was alive, we continued to receive word of my brother’s welfare.”

Maggie’s icy, worried feelings began to melt, as warm tears welled in her eyes. “Your father died recently?”

“It’s been several years since he passed away,” Colin answered with a bleak expression. “But I only returned to civilian life four months ago, after a long tour of duty, and then began looking for my brother.”

Maggie waited. There was a lot more to tell, she was sure. But she wasn’t sure how much of it Colin would be willing to give up to a complete stranger.

Funny, though, sometime in the last few minutes she’d stopped thinking of him as a stranger who could take away her whole world. Something about him called to her. Disturbed her, yes, yet made him appear much more like a friend in stranger’s clothing.

Still, she hoped he wouldn’t touch her again. The last two times had completely thrown her out of balance with shots of sexual energy the likes of which she hadn’t known existed.

A few moments of silence had apparently given Colin a chance to regain some self-control. He stopped pacing and turned to her. “Why are you asking questions? Weren’t you sent to talk to me by El Cuervo?”

“The Raven?” Maggie let the English translation roll off her tongue, but a chill ran down her spine. “No one sent me. I sought you out because—”

She sensed the danger an instant before catching sight of a flash of color outside the window.

“Watch out!” Maggie jumped up, knocking hard into Colin’s side at the exact moment the window exploded. Shattered glass and bits of broken wood frame sprayed everywhere as the two of them hit the floor.

Surprised but unhurt, and by no means out of commission, Colin rolled Maggie under him for protection and reached for the SIG Sauer at his back. A loud bang was quickly followed by a hail of bullets through the window. He ducked his head, and when he looked around, fire had ignited in a corner of the room. Bugger it.

From beneath his body, he heard Maggie mumbling what sounded like a chant, but the words weren’t in English. They weren’t in Gaelic, either, which could’ve been expected from her name. They sounded for all the world like a unique kind of Spanish.

The idea of her speaking Spanish made him wonder if she might be part of the Mexican drug lord’s conspiracy. It could be that she was lying about everything just to set him up. Did she know more than she’d said? Especially concerning the international drug sting that had sent John into hiding in the first place?

Ignoring his suspicions for the moment, Colin tensed further at the sudden, deadly quiet and got to his feet. He stayed hunched over as he palmed his weapon and flattened his body against the wall between the door and the window. He took aim out the window, trying to get a fix on the shadowy fire escape of the opposite building—without making himself too great a target.

He gave Maggie a swift glance. If she was guilty, then her own cohorts had turned against her. But Maggie Ryan could not be left to die in a burning room. It was unthinkable, despite the fact she could have betrayed him. It would be up to him to fight their way out.

“Colin, move farther away from the door. Hurry!”

Maggie crawled closer and jerked at his hand, trying to pull him down. He twisted from her grip and concentrated on targeting anything that moved outside the window. From the corner of his eye, he saw Maggie grab again at his pant’s leg, finally giving it one gigantic tug.

Off balance now, he heard another blast just as the wall at his side burst apart. By then it was far too late to move out of the way.

Everything faded to black.

Maggie dragged a woozy Colin and his duffel down the shadowed sidewalk. Good thing darkness still reigned in the wee small hours here in the valley between skyscraper mountains. Not many people were out in the crisp night air, though quite a lot of cars still filled the streets. A big red bus stopped at the corner of the block, belching smelly exhaust. The few people who’d been waiting began to board.

She’d considered taking the subway back to her hotel, but had dismissed the idea when she thought about Colin negotiating all those station steps. He seemed delirious, and she wasn’t positive he knew what was going on. He could barely walk. His wound wasn’t bleeding anymore, but if he was in shock, there was nothing she could do for him until they returned to her room. A taxi would be simple, of course, but they were scarce here and she didn’t want to deal with a curious driver.