Cry No More (13 page)

12

A week went by in which Milla didn’t hear anything from either True or Diaz; she didn’t expect to learn anything from True, now that she knew she’d been on the wrong track thinking Diaz had been involved in Justin’s kidnapping, but she did expect True to at least call and
tell
her he didn’t have any new information.

She felt constantly on edge, expecting to see Diaz every time she turned a corner or opened a door. Sometimes she had the sensation of being watched and she would look around, but if he was there, she never spotted him. Why would he be trailing her anyway? He was probably somewhere in Mexico, doing whatever it was he did, legal or otherwise.

She should feel more relaxed, with him gone. Whenever he was anywhere near, all her senses were on high alert, as if she were in the presence of a half-tamed animal that she couldn’t fully trust. But when he wasn’t there and her sense of danger faded, then her guard dropped and she would sometimes be blindsided by an insidious pang of desire.

It was insane. She’d been attracted to other men since David, had tried to have other relationships. She was aware that there was some chemistry between her and True Gallagher, though her reasons for not responding to it were valid and she didn’t have even the smallest temptation to change her mind. Being physically attracted to Diaz, however, was alarming. He was the most
unsafe
man she’d ever met, and she didn’t mean in terms of sexually transmitted diseases. He could be devastatingly violent. She hadn’t seen it, had tasted only a small fraction of his potential the night he’d jumped her in Guadalupe, but she could read it in his eyes, in the reactions of people who had heard of him or had anything to do with him.

She would have to be a fool to consider anything other than a working relationship with him—and that was assuming he was capable of
having
a relationship. Sex, yes—relationship, no. That would require an emotional bond she didn’t think he wanted to make, or was even capable of making. Besides, did she really want to crawl into bed with a man she was half afraid of?

Maybe just once,
her libido whispered, which told her how tempted she truly was, because she’d never before had a problem refusing personal gratification if it interfered with her relentless search for Justin. Diaz was the best shot she’d ever had at finding out what had happened to her son, and she didn’t dare do anything to upset the status quo.

Once she acknowledged the dangerous attraction she felt for him, she became even more nervous as she waited for him to turn up in that unexpected way he had. Part of her, the deeply feminine part that yearned for the touch of a strong male, wanted to see if the tug of desire was there in person, or if she had just imagined it in the safety of his absence. Logically, however, she knew she should never give him the slightest indication that she saw him as a sexual being, and the best way to do that was to stay away from him. Since that wasn’t possible, the big question was could she clamp down on her response and keep him from seeing the slightest glimmer of interest? In view of his acute awareness of his surroundings and the intense way he watched people, she would have to be doubly careful.

After he located Pavón for her, perhaps—

No. She couldn’t let herself even think that. She couldn’t hang the possibility out there like a constant temptation, a reward at the end of the trail. She had to put her physical responses in deep freeze and concentrate on only one thing: Justin. That had worked for ten years, and it would work again. The only relationships she had allowed herself to have were with men who didn’t elicit a strong enough attraction that she wasn’t always in complete control. She could and had put them in second place without a moment’s thought. With Diaz she was afraid she wouldn’t have that control, and now of all times, when she finally had a concrete lead to Justin, she couldn’t afford to give that control up.

Because she was so nervous, when Susanna happened to catch her on a night when she didn’t have anything to do and asked her out to dinner with them, she gladly seized the chance to get away from her own thoughts for a while. Normally she preferred to enjoy her rare free evenings at home, but she felt as if the other shoe was waiting to drop and the mental tension was driving her crazy.

Determined to enjoy the evening, she put on one of her favorite dresses, a pale, creamy yellow sleeveless silk, with a swingy skirt that flirted with her knees when she walked. Though rain had indeed broken the heat wave and eased temperatures back down to normal, normal in El Paso in August was still hot, and the dress was wonderfully cool. Back when she and David were dating, they had often gone dancing, and this dress reminded her of the dresses she had worn then. Now that she was older, she realized what an effort David had made in his courtship of her, because he’d been in his residency program then and perpetually short of sleep. She loved to dance, though, so he had used his precious off-time to take her dancing.

The memory had her smiling as she opened the door to Rip when he and Susanna came to collect her. She had offered to drive herself and meet them at the restaurant, but Rip was protective of her, had been since the day Justin was stolen and she herself had nearly died from her wounds. He nearly always insisted on picking her up and making certain she was safely home whenever she had dinner with them.

“Hi there,” he said, smiling at her. “Spiffy dress.”

“Thanks.” She returned his smile as she switched on a lamp in the small foyer for her return; then they stepped outside and she locked the door. “It’s nice to dress up sometimes and not have to make a speech.”

“You’ve been doing this a long time.” He opened the back passenger door for her, and she slid inside. As he got under the wheel he said, “Can’t someone else at Finders take on some of the PR duty?”

“I wish. I’m the face everyone associates with lost children, though, so I’m the one they ask for.”

“But you need a life of your own,” Susanna said, turning around in the front seat and regarding her with somber eyes.

“I have a life,” Milla said. “This is it. This is what I’ve chosen.”

“Or what was chosen for you. You don’t have to keep doing it, you know. You could step down from the day-to-day grind at Finders, only do fund-raisers. The stress you’re under . . .” Susanna shook her head. “I don’t know how you’ve gone on as long as you have. You should at least take regular breaks.”

“Not yet,” she said. Not until she found Justin.

Susanna sighed. “At least get regular checkups, and take vitamins. Prenatal vitamins would be a good choice for you, since you’re under so much stress.”

“Yes, Mother,” Milla parroted, making both Rip and Susanna smile. Vitamins were a good idea, though. She didn’t want to get sick now, when she had the feeling that some breakthrough could happen any day. She had to be ready, had to be in good physical condition.

Susanna gave up nagging, and they began talking about mutual friends, catching up on gossip. Rip made a few comments, but it didn’t take long for Milla to notice that he wasn’t his usual self. His voice and smile were warm whenever he spoke to her, but there was an almost palpable tension between him and Susanna. They had obviously had an argument, which made her uncomfortable. She would rather they had canceled than force her and themselves to sit through a stiff, awkward dinner, but she was caught now.

The restaurant they chose was casually elegant, the type where a tie wasn’t required but jeans were definitely unwelcome. It was, in fact, one of Milla’s favorite places to eat, because they had a wonderful grill. She chose the salmon, which was grilled on a cedar plank, and set about plowing through the evening with relentless small talk. She could enjoy their company even if they didn’t enjoy each other’s.

The meal dragged on, but at last they were almost finished and had just ordered coffee when Milla felt a presence beside her and glanced up into True Gallagher’s lean, weathered face. “True!” she and Susanna said simultaneously. She shot a suspicious look at her friend. Had Susanna set this up, when Milla had specifically told her she wasn’t going to go out with True?

“I just happened to see you,” he said, putting his hand on the back of her chair and touching the back of her shoulder. “Susanna, Rip, how’re y’all doing? Too bad I didn’t spot you earlier, or you could have joined me.”

“We’re fine,” Susanna said, smiling. “Overworked, as usual. You?”

“The same.”

“We just ordered coffee; why don’t you join us, if you aren’t in a hurry?”

“Thanks, I think I will.” He settled his tall frame into the empty chair between Milla and Susanna and slanted one of his intense looks at Milla. “I haven’t seen you lately; is anything new going on? You look—”

“If you say ‘tired,’ I’m going to swat you,” she said firmly.

He grinned. “I was going to say you look great.”

“Um-hmm.” She wasn’t convinced. “And, no, nothing new is going on. Looking for lost people, trying to raise money. I did pick up a new sponsor in Dallas, a software company.”

True said, “That’s good.”

Rip hadn’t contributed anything to the conversation, hadn’t even greeted True. Milla glanced at him and saw that his expression had lost all its usual warmth; his gaze was hooded in a way that reminded her of Diaz.

Damn
. She had gone out with the intention of forgetting about Diaz, not being reminded of him. But what was going on with Rip? He was normally a very friendly man. What had True done to get sideways with him?

A beeping noise suddenly erupted in Susanna’s purse. She groaned. “At least it waited until I was finished eating.” She dug her pager out and glanced at the readout. “It’s the hospital. Let me just step outside and call in, and I’ll be right back.” Taking her cell phone, she hurried toward the door.

“A page is never good when you’re a doctor,” True said. His hand was once more on the back of Milla’s chair, and his thumb rubbed gently over her shoulder before he seemed to think better of it and moved his hand back into his own space. Or maybe he was just sneaky, and didn’t want to give her time to move away.

Rip’s jaw was tight, and he didn’t respond to True’s comment. Rather than sit in silence until Susanna returned, Milla said, “Did you find out any more information for me?” If she didn’t ask, he’d be curious.

“Nothing that fits the time frame. I’m afraid it’s a dead end.”

“Information about what?” Rip asked abruptly, and though his question was uncharacteristically rude, Milla realized she had been just as rude in excluding him.

“I thought I’d finally found a name connected with the kidnapping, and I asked True to check it out.” She didn’t have to specify
which
kidnapping, even though Finders had been involved in many. That awful day was a center of reference for them all.

Rip didn’t even glance at True. “Why not ask the police to run the name? You know they’d do it for you.”

“I know, but True has contacts on the other side of the border—”

Susanna hurried back in, her expression tense as she interrupted them. “I’m sorry, I have to go. Felicia D’Angelo has a fever and her blood pressure is up. She’s only twenty weeks along. I’m meeting her at the hospital.”

“Which one?” Rip asked, since she had privileges at two.

She told him, then leaned down and kissed Rip’s cheek, ignoring the way he stiffened. “I’m taking the car. You can get a cab, can’t you?”

“Don’t bother with a cab,” True said, looking from Milla to Rip. “I can drive both of you home.”

“No, that’s too much trouble,” Milla said. “We live on opposite sides of town.”

“I knew that when I offered. It’s no problem.”

Rip said, “We’ll take a cab. I’d like to see Milla safely home, so I’ll have the cab drop her off and then take me home.”

“That’s rid—” Susanna began, then cut herself off and gave Rip a frustrated look, which made Milla think she had indeed been set up. “Never mind. Arrange things however you want. I have to go; I’ll see you later tonight, I hope.” She grabbed her bag and hurried out the door.

The waiter brought the coffee and poured it, and Milla sat uncomfortably between the two men while she sipped her coffee, they ignored theirs, and the polite tug of war over her continued. True was determined to take her home; Rip was just as determined that he wouldn’t. She saw Rip’s hold on his temper start to shred, and decided she’d better step in.

“Hold it,” she said calmly. “Neither of you have asked me what
I
want to do.”

Both of them immediately turned to her, and Rip’s expression was faintly apologetic. “Sorry. Were you feeling like a wishbone?”

“A bit.” She smiled at him, because she knew he wasn’t going to like what she said. “I need to talk to True, so I’ll go with him.”

She was right; Rip didn’t like that at all, though he had the grace not to argue once she made her decision. True didn’t look triumphant, but then maybe he was smart enough to realize he wasn’t going to like their talk.

“Whatever you want,” Rip said as the waiter brought their bills, and he fished a credit card out of his pocket, placing it in one of the folders. True made a motion as if to take the folder containing Milla’s bill, but she stopped him with a glance. She slipped several bills in that folder.

They waited until the waiter had taken both folders away, then returned with Rip’s credit card and receipt for his signature. He asked the waiter to have a cab called for him, and while that was being done, he added a hefty tip, then scrawled his name and pocketed his card.

“The cab company said ten minutes,” the waiter said when he returned.

“We’ll wait,” Milla began, but Rip shook his head.

“No, go on. It’s just a few minutes. I’ll finish my coffee while I wait.” He stood as she and True did, and kissed Milla’s cheek. “It’s been too long since we did this. Don’t be such a stranger.”

She chuckled. “Like yours and Susanna’s schedules are any better than mine.”

“Ain’t it the truth. Be careful going home.” He nodded a good-bye to True, and sat back down as she and True left the restaurant.

“My truck’s this way,” he said, indicating the left and gently steering her in that direction with his hand on her back. “I get the feeling Rip doesn’t like me.”