Countdown (14 page)

Heat rushed to his face. Sitting on two couches were two of his brothers, their wives and his mom and dad.

He was going to kill David.

David jumped up from the couch at the sight of him. “You're here,” he hollered.

“What is it?” Rachel stepped backward into the shadow of the palm trees, holding Caleb's hand in her right and Ethan's hand in her left.

“It's fine,” James muttered. Though it wasn't.

David opened the sliding-glass door. “Hey.”

“What are you trying to pull?” James demanded.

David held up both hands. “You asked for a beach house. You didn't ask for an empty one.”

“You knew what I meant.”

“We were already here. You just never asked.”

James tried to digest that little tidbit. “You guys went on vacation without me?” He shook his head. That wasn't the point. “None of you should be here.”

David raised an eyebrow. “Why?” His eyes drifted over James's head and onto Rachel. His mouth hung open for half a second. “Uh. What's going on, bro?”

“I'm afraid your little omission has put you all in danger.” James said it softly so no one else would hear.

“Uncle David,” the twins cried. They wrenched free from Rachel's grasp and ran toward David.

“Then it means
you're
in danger,” David said. “And from where I stand, that makes it a good thing we're here.” He took a knee just as the boys reached him and opened his arms wide for a giant hug.

Aria, Luke, Gabriella, Mom and Dad all piled through the door, attacking his boys and him with hugs and exclamations. “Guys, guys, we need to get inside,” James tried to argue. He looked over his shoulder and grimaced. “Rachel, meet my family.”

FOURTEEN

R
achel's heart pounded fast, which made her shoulder throb painfully. His family was here?

James accepted a one-armed hug from one of the men as he waved her forward. One man shared the same tall, streamlined build as James, except with a full head of dark blond hair. While the first one—David, she thought the boys called him—was built like a lean football player with wavy hair. The older man was somewhere in between the two types with silver hair. All in all, the McGuire men made a handsome crew.

The older woman's hair, pulled back in a loose chignon, looked most like David's with its copper highlights. The other two women were both gorgeous but very different. One blonde, one dark brunette, they both had smiles that could light up a town.

The older woman's eyes met Rachel. She smiled the same way James did, a smile that seemed genuine and friendly, but before she could say anything the dad caught her gaze. “Whoa, son, what do we have here?” he asked.

Rachel's entire body burned with embarrassment. What must they think? A romantic getaway? She wasn't that type of girl, and she almost said it aloud. She stepped out of the shadows of the palm tree and approached them.

“Dad, stop,” James said. “There's been an attempted...several actually...” He patted the top of the twins' heads while he mouthed the word,
kidnappings
. “It's a long story, but Rachel's my neighbor and because of me, she's also been targeted. We need a place to lay low.”

His mom walked out of the pack and put her hands on Rachel's shoulders. “I don't know what happened, but my boys seem to have a knack for getting beautiful girls into danger.”

“Mom—” Two of the brothers started to object in unison.

“I apologize for all of them,” the mom said, ignoring her sons. She studied Rachel and paled. “Are you bleeding? What happened?”

James stepped closer. “She was shot, Mom. I tried to patch her up, but I'd appreciate it if you took a look.”

His mom's jaw dropped. “Inside now. Everyone.”

They stepped inside a beige kitchen with a large round table for eight. The twins took off running through the house, eager to be out of the car. The rest of the family introduced themselves and Rachel tried her best to commit their names to memory.

She sat still while James explained the entire situation to his family. His mom checked her son's handiwork. “Unorthodox, but this should heal nicely. We need to watch for infection, though.”

Gabriella rushed in with a clean cotton jacket for Rachel. The men remained impassive as James finished his recap. They listened, nodded and asked the occasional question. Aria and Gabriella kept looking at Rachel with wide eyes but said nothing.

His mom, who chose a seat directly to her right, grabbed Rachel's forearm each time James mentioned the men who chased them. “You saved the boys,” she whispered.

All the attention was enough to drive Rachel batty. She needed space, time to think...

“You need a plan,” his mom cried.

“Mom, the plan is to wait it out so I don't put any more family members in danger.” James sent a pointed look in David's direction. “What I'd really like to know right now is why my entire family is taking vacations without me.”

“Oh, please. This isn't a vacation,” his mom replied. “We were already here when you called for your brother's business. Tell him, David.”

“We were already here when you called. It's how I had the address handy.” David placed his elbows on the table. “There's a property here that's about to go up for auction.”

James leaned back, the surprise evident on his face. “You're ready to start another conference center?”

“It's why I asked Dad and Luke to join us. I wanted a contractor and a real-estate developer's opinion.”

“What, you didn't need Matt? Isn't he managing a conference center in San Antonio?”

Luke stretched one arm around his wife's shoulders. “He couldn't get away.”

James shook his head. “I see how it is.”

Rachel didn't realize he was the only one in the family that didn't have a job somehow related to the rest of his family. And, she hadn't heard about Matt, but the other two brothers had wives. Judging by how close the couples sat to each other, they were very much in love. Did James feel like an outsider in his own family?

Aria leaned forward. “James, we didn't call you because your mom told us you had a launch scheduled. We know how crazy it gets.”

“We were going to ask you on Tuesday to come spend a couple days with us,” his mom added. “I know you can never leave before a launch. And if I'd asked you beforehand or told you about it, you'd be stressed, feeling like you were missing out or disappointing us. Am I right?”

James rolled his eyes. “Maybe.”

She frowned. “Which brings us back to your situation. You need a plan.”

James slapped a hand on the table. “Sunday is the launch. Since you're here, I'll leave the boys and Rachel with you and take the risk of going to the authorities. But I'm praying Derrick recovers before then. You guys need to pretend we're not here, but you also need to stop using your phones.” He pointed at the windows. “I should be watching. Someone always needs to be on the lookout.”

“Phones,” Rachel repeated. “James, we should call Cynthia.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I didn't want to argue with Cynthia at the time, but it's still kind of risky to call her. They might be tracking her phone.”

“Didn't you say a prepaid is harder to track? Besides, she said she wouldn't even answer if she didn't have news.” Rachel hated the thought of sitting around, waiting. If Derrick had pulled through his surgery, Cynthia could relay information, maybe even tell them what to do...

James stood and paced, peeking through the front windows at the road. “I'd want to get far away from here before I do that. Just to be safe.”

David glanced at his smartphone. “We actually have a meeting. How about you let us take the boys? There are some sand dunes and a giant golf course they could run around on. The boys can give us an opinion if kids would like the place.”

Uncertainty crossed his features. “I'm not—”

“You said it yourself. No one knows you're here. And you've got two uncles, two aunts and a grandpa standing guard who would do anything for them,” his dad said.

“I'll stay here with Rachel,” his mom added. She patted Rachel's hand. “We'll get to know each other and get the rooms ready for you guys. I imagine you'll want to call it a night early. You look like you could fall asleep standing up.”

“You have no idea, Mom.”

The family moved as one, everyone standing up and getting ready to leave. The boys squealed in excitement when Uncle Luke asked them if they wanted to go run on sand dunes. Within moments the house quieted as everyone left.

Rachel's heart pounded in her throat. James was going to leave her here with his mom? She tried to send a signal to James by widening her eyes, but when he looked at her he just smiled.

“Dad, I'm borrowing your beach hat.” He picked up a floppy brown hat that looked ridiculous. It certainly worked as a disguise. “I'm going to walk a couple miles south and call Cynthia. Mom, keep watch,” he said and walked out the door.

“So you're the neighbor,” his mom said. “I've heard loads about you.”

Ah, the Sunday phone chats James had told her about. Wasn't his mom the one that advised they stop car-pooling? So that meant she knew Rachel dated other men. Did that mean she automatically didn't like her? Did she think she was taking advantage of James for the gas savings? Rachel jiggled her knee up and down, trying to release the anxiety, trying to focus her thoughts.

“The boys and James speak very highly of you.”

The sun streaming in through the windows heated her to the core. At least, she told herself it was the sun's fault.

“Want to keep me company while I start on dinner?”

“I think I better keep a lookout, Mrs. McGuire.”

“Call me Beverly. You can do both at the same time.”

“I've got just a great taco bake recipe on my tablet.” Beverly propped up her tablet on the counter. The screensaver displayed a slide show of pictures of her boys then wedding photos...including a photo of James and Nikki. The boys had Nikki's bright smile and blond hair.

Beverly caught her gaze. “It took me over a year before I could put that picture back in the slideshow, but Nikki was the type of woman who wouldn't want us to wallow forever. She will always be missed.” Beverly took a deep breath. “But I know she'd have wanted James to find a partner in parenting the boys. She'd want what was best for all three of them.”

Rachel wanted to run out of the room. It was likely her imagination, but it was almost as if Beverly was insinuating...

“Of course, I'd never push James,” Beverly continued. “I'm not one of those meddling moms. My friends think I should give him a little nudge, but that seems a bit much, don't you think? No, matchmaking doesn't suit me one bit.”

While a relief Beverly didn't want to interfere, the entire topic made her uneasy. The slide show switched to a family photo of all the boys and their parents. “You must be very proud,” Rachel said, hoping she'd switch subjects.

Beverly put her hands on her hips and nodded. “Yes, by God's grace.”

“Sure, but you can take some credit. You made sure they had a good start,” Rachel added.

Beverly studied her with a sharp eye before she swiped the tablet and pulled up the recipe. “My own parents divorced at age five. Tim also came from a broken home. We had parents who loved us but made mistakes, just as every parent does. I'd like to think we gave them a good start, but in the end, like I said, it's by God's grace.”

“How'd you make sure they grew up better than you?”

Beverly laughed. “Oh, we could never have guaranteed that. Each of the boys was so different. Even if I had the best parents, the best childhood, the best parenting books, I'd still have been on my knees asking Him for wisdom.”

Rachel stared at the recipe and tried to contain her surprise. It was hard to imagine Mrs. McGuire not knowing what to do in all situations.

Beverly tapped her finger on the countertop. “He gently leads those that have young. I found that somewhere in Isaiah once. I clung to it because it meant that motherhood wasn't all on me.” Beverly moved around the kitchen, preparing ingredients.

“I'm sure your experience as a cop had to come in handy with parenting,” Rachel said.

Beverly chuckled and moved to brown the beef on the stovetop. “I suppose some of the skills I developed helped in raising boys.” She waved the wooden spatula in the air. “The power of observation helped the most. Detective work.”

“I wouldn't have anything like that to draw on,” she said.

Beverly let the spatula rest on the side of the pan and turned to her. “It doesn't matter. Don't let your past stop you from a future God may call you to eventually. There are a lot of motherless in this world.” She held up both hands. “Don't misunderstand me. My grandchildren will be just fine. I'm no matchmaker.” Beverly winked at Rachel.

Rachel felt her eyes widen and tried not to make eye contact.

A shadow crossed the deck. Rachel reached for the gun in her purse, slung across the back of a kitchen chair. James appeared at the glass door, and she exhaled. He slid open the door and stepped in, his face grim. “Bad news. Cynthia never answered.”

“It doesn't mean Derrick's not okay,” she said. Her encouraging words didn't move the weight that had dropped in the pit of her stomach.

James nodded, but his head hung low. The strain of not knowing if his friend would live or die had to hurt. He removed the gigantic beach hat from his head. “You guys doing okay here?”

Rachel glanced at Mrs. McGuire. That was a loaded question.

* * *

Loud talking came from the side of the house. James rushed to the side of the door and waited. His gun rested in the back of his jeans. The moment he recognized David's voice he relaxed and stepped away but not before his mom's concerned gaze met his. “I don't even know if we should be here.” He ran his hand through his hair. The last thing he wanted was to bring any more of his loved ones into danger.

“This is exactly where you should be,” she answered.

The rest of the family entered. Luke held Caleb, and David carried Ethan. Everyone was talking over each other, the noise almost deafening. Rachel crossed the room, peering out the windows. His family was sure to draw attention at this volume.

A shrill whistle echoed through the room, the vaulted ceiling echoing it. James turned to find everyone staring at Mom.

“Since when did you know how to do that?” David asked, incredulous.

Mom shrugged. “Gabriella taught me. Now, James, I'm going to take a look at my network to see who you should contact.”

“I told you, Mom, I'm waiting until Sunday.”

Mom raised her eyebrows and blinked slowly, obviously irritated. “Fine. When's the launch?”

“Eleven p.m. GMT NET.” They always announced launch times in GMT. The number stuck in his head more than the actual time.

“What?” Rachel asked.

“Greenwich Mean Time,” James clarified. “No earlier than.” He put a hand on his head, mentally calculating when that would be. “Uh, that's 4:00 p.m. Pacific time, Sunday.”

“James, that's tomorrow. You need to talk to someone now,” Mom said. “I don't know who I can get on a Sunday so we need to get right to it... I'll need to make some calls.”

“Mom, that's the one thing you can't do.”

“If you don't stop this in time—”

“Don't you think I know that?” Every muscle tensed in his back. He should've known he'd get pushback from Mom. “I know the facts, and the risks. The satellite has to make a full orbit, coming up from the south, before it gets in any place to do any damage to our electrical infrastructure. If I can reach someone after launch that's still time for the air force to shoot it down before it gets near the target.”