Criminal Promises (20 page)

With BD at her elbow and sleep deprivation
from a night of trying to decipher the symbols on the scrolls and
Jared’s ceiling dogging her steps, Maggie opened the front door to
find Craig dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, holding a case of soda
and sporting an outrageously infectious grin, as if he’d come over
for a cookout or something equally fun.

“Did someone forget to
tell me we were having a party?” Shaking her head, she looked
between the two men. “As hostess, I require time to properly
prepare these things.”

“Sorry, Maggie.” Craig
winked at her. “We like to be spontaneous.”

“Yeah.” She reached up and
patted his cheek un-gently. “Stop. You always bring bad news and
it’s exhausting.”

“We’re doing our best.”
Craig sobered as he stepped inside when she moved back.
“BD.”

“Craig.” BD’s eyes shifted
deeper into cop mode. His stance adopted an edge of violence as he
closed the inches to her side. “Any luck figuring out who Adalia’s
inside man is?”

“No, but Cap’s on board
with our plan.”

“You already have a plan?”
Maggie closed and locked the door shaking her head. “I guess now I
know why you were on the phone so long last night.”

“Yeah.” Craig pulled an
envelope from a side pocket in his shorts. “This was left at the
front desk at the station. Do you mind if I borrow BD for a
bit?”

“I think I might.”
Irritation that they seemed to be continuing the secret keeping was
cut off by the doorbell.

“You expecting anyone?”
Harte’s oppressive side was ruling him.

She raised a brow at him.
“I didn’t know I was expecting Craig.”

He went to the door and
glanced out the window. “It’s Grace.”

“Crap. I’ll just go put
these in the fridge” Craig darted to the kitchen with the
sodas.

Maggie looked from his
retreating back to Harte standing sentry and then at the door. “My
sister, whom I love dearly, is a meddler. She won’t back off if she
gets wind of what’s really going on or any plan you
have.”

He sighed. “Let her in.
We’ll handle it.”

She opened the door with
what she hoped was a convincing smile. “Hey, Grace.”

“Don’t mess with me.”
Grace breezed past, looking around the house. “I want to know what
is going on around here. Where’s Craig? Craig!” Grace bellowed
without waiting for responses. “Get your ass out here!”

Maggie blinked. She wasn’t saying anything
until she knew what Grace knew. And how she’d found out, though she
had a strong suspicion judging by the angry blush on her sister's
cheeks.

“Good morning, Maggie, how
are you?” She mocked Grace, hoping to buy some time. “Oh, I’m
great, Grace. Thanks for asking. What brings you over?”

“You aren’t funny.” Grace
braced her legs apart and tapped her fingers on her crossed arms.
“Something is going on around here, and I’m going to find out what.
Or I’m calling Dad.”

Harte closed the door and jerked his head
toward the kitchen. Maggie rolled her eyes and, still in the dark
as to BD’s plans, led the way to where Craig waited. Whatever he’d
done, he was going to suffer one way or another.

Grace shoved past her when
she saw Craig by the island. “You son-of-a…”

“Grace!” Maggie protested
as she stumbled. BD steadied her with a solid and lingering save
when she would have slammed into the wall.

Grace ignored the sisterly
assault, marched up to Craig standing by the counter and slapped
him across the face. “You used me.”

“Get out of firing range.”
BD murmured as he took Maggie’s hand and pulled her to the other
side of the island. As protection against Grace’s temper was
concerned, the island wasn’t great, but it did provide shelter to
duck if she started throwing things.

“Grace,” Craig smiled,
oozing charm. “I thought you were sleeping. What are you doing
here?”

“Following you. You
deceitful, dick-for-brains, piece of scum!”

Maggie choked back a laugh.
Her eyes darted between her sister and Craig. Harte calmly watched
the exchange, as if he wasn’t remotely surprised. “They’re…dating?
Did you know about this?”

“You used me!”

“No.” He covered his lips
with a finger, shushing her. Not that they seemed to be disturbing
Grace and her tirade.

“You have a conversation
with
him
during a
date.” Grace’s finger pointed at Harte as if everyone in the room
didn’t know who she meant with her disgusted
him
. “Then, after we’ve…when I ask
what’s going on, you lie to me.”

“Now, Gracie.”

Maggie winced. No one,
absolutely no one ever called Grace “Gracie”. Only one person had
been given that right and it had ended violently.

“Don’t. You.
Ever.
Call. Me. That.”
Each word was delivered low and threatening with utter calm and
drove the force of the punch she planted in Craig’s gut. To his
credit, he sucked it up and didn’t wince. Much.

Craig held his hands up as
if to ward her off. “Calm down.”

“Calm down. You
dare
to tell
me
to calm down?”
Grace’s voice began to rise again. She slid her gaze, her eyes
bulging with irrational wrath, across the island. She paused at the
knife block.

Maggie moved the knives to the counter behind
her and smiled sweetly. She’d rather not be cleaning blood off her
floor.

Craig tried on a smile of his own and circled
around Grace, keeping out of the reach of her arms.

“He needs to watch out for
her legs,” Maggie muttered out the side of her mouth. “She’s the
one who taught me to kick.”

“Oh, this is gonna be
good.” BD chuckled and wrapped a companionable arm around her
shoulders, pulling her close. Her belly rumbled with pleasure.
Maybe from the easy touch. Maybe from the suggested
connection.

“I did not lie. Or use
you.” Craig’s smooth voice would have calmed anyone else, but Grace
wasn’t going to cool off anytime soon.

“Bull!” She pointed over
at Maggie and Harte again. “You canceled on spending the day with
me to come over here. You’re both armed and checking into
Mike.”

Craig had spent the night
with Grace?
Whoa.
She hadn’t allowed a man in her home since…well, since Alex
Kord, the violent ending.

“How would you know I
checked into Mike?”

“Wrong move, cutie,”
Maggie mumbled. Questioning Grace when she was mad could be
lethal.

Grace spun through the air, leading with a
foot aimed at Craig’s head.

Maggie winced.

Craig ducked.

Harte laughed.

Landing back on both feet,
tapping her fingers on her hips, Grace stared at Craig—not remotely
put off by his size advantage or the fact she’d missed her target.
The desire to take another kick ramped up in her blazing stare. “I
read your emails while you were snoring in my bed.”

BD roared with laughter. Maggie choked back
her own laugh. They’d have to tell Grace everything. It was the
only way to keep Craig’s body parts where they belonged, and she
liked him too much to see him maimed. She especially liked that
he’d clearly broached some of Grace’s defenses.

Grace spun toward her and
Harte. “You think this is funny? Maggie, do you know they’ve run a
major background check on Mike? Harte’s been searching your house
when you’re gone or asleep.”

She turned to face BD. He sobered
instantly.

Grace stood on the other side of the island,
chest heaving, smug pleasure spreading her lips. Craig looked on,
probably eager to see someone else besides him get their ass chewed
out.

“You could have told me
that part.” He’d lied to her about suspecting her husband. She
should feel angry or betrayed. She felt…protected.

“What?” Grace
gasped.

Harte slid his hand down
her arm and linked his fingers with her. “I would have if I learned
something that would change things.”

Definitely protected. The
necessity hurt, but knowing he’d wanted to watch out for her eased
the sting. It was nice to rank so high for someone. “You still
could have told me.”

“What is going on around
here?” Grace shrieked her question. “I feel like I’m in a crazy
sitcom.”

“We’re going to get her,
Mags.” BD moved his hands to her hips and held her gaze.

“I trust you.”
I love you.
Whoa! Back
up, Maggie.
Hadn’t expected that. She sure
didn’t know what to do with it at the moment.

“Hello!” Grace smacked her
hands on the counter top to get their attention. “Remember
me?”

“Oh, all right.” Maggie
snapped as she turned to her sister. “You get the Cliff Notes
version. You’ll not pepper me with questions or badger me with your
constant presence.”

“You’re giving me
orders?”

“It’s a new concept, but
yeah.” Maggie grinned. Tingles traipsed along her arms and neck and
spine. Strength. If the moment weren’t so charged she’d close her
eyes and relish the development. “And you’re going to follow
them.”

Grace tapped her
meticulously manicured nails against the tile counter. “Fine. Spill
it.”

Craig moved closer to Grace, as if he needed
to protect her. She shifted fractionally closer. They’d be good
together, if he could get her to not run, but that was for another
day. In a two-minute summary, Maggie told Grace everything she
knew.

“What?” Grace lurched
toward the counter. Craig laid a hand on her arm. She smacked him
away, but when she looked back it was with concern filling her
gaze. “You didn’t think I needed to know this?”

“What were you going to
do, Grace? Harte’s here.” Maggie glanced at him, inches away.
“Hovering constantly with a loaded gun. Craig’s a phone call away.
They’re doing everything they can to catch Adalia and protect
me.”

“This is why the kids are
at the farm. You tell Dad and Phil?”

“Yes.”

“We don’t expect Adalia to
stray far from Maggie,” Craig said. “The kids are safe.”

“I mean it.” Grace turned
on him. “Back off. You should have told me.”

“Grace,” BD rested his
elbows on the counter and leaned forward. “He couldn’t tell you any
more than I was supposed to tell Maggie.”

“But you did tell
her.”

“Different circumstances.”
He turned his head toward Maggie. “And it’ll be over.
Soon.”

Maggie sucked in a pained
and iced breath that stabbed deep in her heart. More than the case
would be over. He would leave, taking any chance of a
them
with
him.

Maggie closed the door
behind Grace and locked it before turning to face BD. “What’s in
the envelope?”

“Let’s find out.” Holding
his hand toward the kitchen, he waited for her to precede him to
where Craig had chosen to stay as a way of avoiding more of Grace’s
wrath. His only surprise at the Craig and Grace coupling was how
polar opposite she was from the reserved kindergarten teacher types
he normally went for. The Malones bred strong women.

How strong?

They had to know what was in the envelope,
but BD’s instinct to shield Maggie warred with the fact she’d
figure it out anyway. She was getting under his skin. The more time
he spent around her, the more he wanted to be with her. She
especially disturbed him when she paced the house in the middle of
the night.

Checking blinds and locks he’d already
checked or sitting in the chairs in each kid’s room—sad and alone
in the silence until he drew her into watching one of her many
action DVDs.

Every minute in her company made resistance
increasingly difficult.

Back in the kitchen,
standing at the island, with Maggie at his side and Craig on the
other side of the counter, BD pulled the envelope closer. “You sure
about this, Mags?”

“We can do it without
you,” Craig added.

“No.”

“Adalia doesn’t play
fair.” BD stopped himself from giving her the warning of how Adalia
tortured her victims mentally, emotionally and physically. Maggie
had experienced a little of the first two. She would never know the
last.

“Message
received.”

As vitally as he knew hoping she wouldn’t
argue was pointless.

Craig leaned forward and
covered her hand with his. “Bear that in mind the next time you
give BD hell.”

“Surely he hasn’t been
whining. I think I’ve gone along pretty well.”

“Mostly. A blind man can
see how you enjoy tormenting him.” Craig winked at her. “I’m not
blind.”

“If you two don’t mind.”
BD tapped the envelope.

Maggie pulled latex gloves out of a box in a
drawer for each of them. After putting them on, BD withdrew a piece
of blood red cloth. Gripping the scratchy linen, he pulled back the
folds.

3 - TICK TOCK