Gone (17 page)

For a second, Joe stared at her with his mouth open. In his
eyes she could see a faint spark of hope. But in the next second he’d thrown up
that armor he’d developed as a child growing up in strip clubs and never knowing
who was going to be taking care of him. “Don’t, Marcie. Just don—”

She propelled herself at him and hit her target—his mouth with
her lips. It looked like the only way she was going to knock him out of his
cynical, disbelieving attitude, was to kiss it out of him. And if that didn’t
work, if she couldn’t seduce her own husband, then she’d have to admit
defeat.

At first, his lips didn’t move. But he was affected. It didn’t
take her long to notice that he was becoming turned on. She kept on kissing him,
using her tongue as she tried to tease his lips apart. She felt like a
victorious warrior when he relented and she was able to explore the inside of
his mouth. But then he lifted his head to look down at her and she felt her
stomach drop to her toes. Was he going to stop her?

He didn’t. What he did was pull her up against him and bend her
head back and kiss her until she felt faint. Then he kissed her some more. Hard
and deep and sensual. This was a promise and a threat, an awakening and an
ending. It was overtly sexual and by the time it ended, Marcie’s lungs were
heaving with reaction and her body, all the way down to its core, was screaming
for release.

Joe stopped suddenly, his own chest heaving, and eyed her as if
she were some alien siren. “What are you doing?” he gasped.

“Trying to shut you up,” she responded breathily.

“Shut me up?”

She nodded, feeling the tears begin to gather in her eyes. “Oh,
I am so tired of crying,” she muttered. “I was trying to say something, but you
kept interrupting me.”

He pressed his lips together. “Okay. Say what you wanted to
say.”

“Joe, I love you. I always have. Can you please forgive me? If
not for me, for the sake of our baby? Joshua needs you, and not just on the days
I can work up enough nerve to ask you to come over. He needs you every day, and
so do I. I promise you that I will earn your trust again.” She’d done it. She’d
said her piece as simply and clearly as she could. Now it was up to him.

He didn’t find it easy to trust, she knew. Especially women.
His mother had seen to that. Marcie had fought for years to prove he could trust
her, and then, after Joshua was taken, she’d proven to him that he couldn’t. Now
she had to start over.

As she watched, his mouth relaxed and the frown lines between
his brows smoothed out. Her pulse pounded as she waited to hear what he was
going to say.

“Marcie, I—” He took a breath. “You have my trust. And my
heart. I want us to be a family again. I want us to be three again.”

“Oh,” Marcie said, noticing that tears were streaming down her
cheeks again. “Hold me, Joe, and never, ever let me go.”

Joe pulled her close and she tucked her head into her favorite
place, the little hollow between his shoulder and head. He pressed his cheek
against her hair. They stood that way for a long time. Finally, Joe took
Marcie’s hand and led her into the house and up the stairs to their bedroom.

Quite a while later, the two of them lay languid and satiated,
on the bed in the master bedroom. Joe tightened his arm around Marcie and kissed
the top of her head. “I love you, Marcie,” he whispered.

She nodded. “I love you, too,” she said in a small voice. “I
never thought we’d be together again. I thought I’d lost my baby and my
husband.”

“Well, you haven’t,” Joe said. He pushed up in the bed and
leaned back against the headboard, pulling Marcie with him. “And you never will
again. Joshua and I are right here and we always will be. We’re a family,” he
said. “We are three.”

Marcie looked up at her husband. “You know what I’d like?” she
asked.

He smiled down at her. “Tell me,” he said.

“I’d like it if we were four.”

Joe’s smile widened into a huge grin. “You would?”

She bit her lip as she nodded. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds.
“Want to start now?”

Joe bent his head and caught her mouth in a long, deep kiss.
“Absolutely,” he muttered.

* * * * *

Look for more exciting books in Mallory
Kane’s
miniseries,
THE DELANCEY DYNASTY,
later in 2014. You’ll find them wherever
Harlequin Intrigue books are sold!

Keep reading for an excerpt from THE MARINE’S
LAST DEFENSE by Angi Morgan.

We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Intrigue story.

You crave excitement!
Harlequin Intrigue
stories deal in serious suspense, keeping you on the edge of your seat as resourceful, true-to-life women and strong, fearless men fight for survival.

Enjoy six new stories from Harlequin Intrigue every month!

Visit
Harlequin.com
to find your next great read.

We like you—why not like us on Facebook:
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

Follow us on Twitter:
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books:
HarlequinBlog.com

Subscribe to our newsletter for special offers, new releases, and more!

Harlequin.com/newsletters

Prologue

Six Months Ago

“Keep the girl alive. I’m telling you it would be less
complicated,” Griffin Tyler said. “More money for us, too.”

“You don’t tell us nothin’, Tyler.”

Sabrina Watkins flattened herself to the hall paneling.
They wanted to kill her?
She’d been three years behind
Griffin in high school, been in youth group with this man who had become her
business partner. And recently she’d thought of him as a very close friend.
Their mothers even still went to the same church every Sunday morning.

“She has too many friends,” the unknown voice continued. “Too
many that will believe her when she claims she’s innocent. If we leave her alive
to chat ’em up, everybody gets sympathetic. It’s better to kill her. Make it
look like a suicide and then evidence comes out proving how guilty she is. We
lose a little money framing her, but overall the operation survives. You set up
shop somewhere else. Insurance, no one’s the wiser.”

She didn’t know the second voice. Average tone, not deep or
high. She didn’t think he’d ever boarded a pet with her. She’d only seen the
back of the man’s head as she’d rounded the corner from the offices into the
clinic. She had no description for the police and didn’t even know his hair
color since he was wearing a ball cap.

“Whatever,” Griffin said, not trying hard to sway his partner.
“Suicide works. She’s surrounded herself with the business for the past two
years. Everything she has is tied up in it. When it goes up in flames, our
hometown will think she was too depressed to start over.” He put his hands on
his hips, a gesture she’d seen a thousand times when he was ready to move on
from a subject. “When will you do it?”

Oh, my Lord, they really are going to kill
me,
she thought, panicking.
Why? What did I
do?

“Listen, Tyler, you’re the one who screwed up. Too many fingers
in the pie. You should never have involved the local cop who’s getting greedy.
The higher-ups want them both gone, along with all traces of the connection to
us. You’re damn lucky they don’t want you gone.”

Who have you gotten involved with,
Griffin?

Sabrina’s heart pounded faster than Tweetiepie, the miniature
Chihuahua she’d groomed at the truck stop that afternoon. Her hands shook even
while she was plastered against the wall. She wanted to close her eyes and have
someone explain why this was happening. Could someone wake her up from this
nightmare so she could go back to her simple life of boarding pets?

Her thoughts drifted through her last conversation with
Griffin. As far as she knew there had been no indicators that he was upset with
her. But, then again, how did your best friend speak to you three hours before
casually mentioning no one would miss you if you were dead?

Wait. Flames? Had he said
flames?

Was Griffin speaking in metaphors or were they really going to
burn the clinic down? “Gone...all traces.” She had to get to the police. No. The
stranger had mentioned involving a cop. Which one? They didn’t mention anyone by
name. Who could she trust? But they couldn’t all be bad. Right?

What could she tell them if she did trust them? She’d overheard
her business partner plotting to kill a “she,” but unfortunately there were a
lot of “shes” in Amarillo, Texas.

She’d look like an idiot. Griffin continued his discussion with
the stranger. She couldn’t distinguish their words as they walked to the rear
exit. She dropped to the floor and crept around the corner into the operating
room.

Griffin was right about one thing—she had no other life outside
the clinic or pet sitting. He was also right that every dime she had was tied up
in her half of the business.

But right now, she needed help.

No one worked in the clinic on Sundays. She made a special trip
with the house-call van once a month, working with truck drivers. It was five
o’clock and she’d spent the afternoon grooming dogs at the I-40 truck stop and
let Amber borrow her car for a baby shower. If she hadn’t finished an hour
early, decided to restock the van while waiting on her assistant’s return, she
wouldn’t have a clue about their plot to kill her and burn the clinic.

She’d been so dumb. Well, not anymore. It was time to get
closer, find out what they were doing.

On her hands and knees, she scooted across the painted concrete
floor. Staying close to the counters and then behind the stainless steel exam
table, she was careful not to knock any of the rolling trays full of
instruments. She’d never felt comfortable in this room. It wasn’t organized and
certainly didn’t function effectively according to what she’d seen over the past
two years.

There were many times she’d wondered how Griffin made any
money. Now she knew. He made it illegally. She dared to look around the side of
the table. There wasn’t enough light in her section of the room for her to be
seen, but she was still very careful.

“So we’re agreed. Tonight,” the stranger said. “Get your cop
friend to patrol nearby. I’ll nab the girl before the fire’s set and make it
look real enough.”

“You think it’s necessary to burn the place with the animals
inside?”

“You want the fire to look genuine, don’t ya?”

The stranger was near the back door. She caught a tilt to his
lips when Griffin’s back was turned. Her stomach twisted in fear. Whoever this
stranger was, he enjoyed killing. Animal or human, that smile indicated he
looked forward to it.

She swallowed the bile in her throat and hid behind the island
table again.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. They were going to
kill her.

What should she do? Remember his voice. Remember that deadly
smile and his thin, flat lips. She had no evidence, no proof that someone wanted
her dead. And from what she’d overheard, they’d planted evidence that she was
responsible for something. Dear Lord, she didn’t even know where to start. She
knew nothing about police procedures except that they needed more information
than she had to begin an investigation.

Fading daylight briefly filled the room as the back door opened
and closed. The sound of the dead bolt turning echoed through the cold room. Oh,
no, the van was parked out front now. How long had they been here? Would they
notice? Would they come back?

Silence.

She sank to the floor. There was nowhere to hide and if they
did return, what could she do?

The faint whine of an abandoned pup bolted her into action. No
one was going to kill the animals left in her care. She tugged on one of the
rolling tables and opened a bin. She yanked a scalpel, wielding it like a
hunting knife. She could defend herself a little, maybe deter them long enough
to race out the front door.

Explanation or no, she could get to the police to save her own
life. Panda and Pogo barked.

The animals. She had to get them out of the building. She took
a peek through the windows and didn’t see any cars. She ran through the clinic
to the back of the boarding kennels and unbolted the door, slightly propping it
open for quick access. Then another dash through the building and out the front,
moving the van to the back.

Thank goodness she didn’t have a lot of animals at the clinic
or being boarded for the weekend. The three dogs and kitty would fit inside the
van and be safe. She closed the van door with a sigh of relief, dropping her
forehead to the cooling metal. She could meet Amber at the house and have her
drive the animals to their owners.

Then she would drive her car directly to the police station and
take her chances. Crazy sounding or not, she had to report Griffin to the
authorities.

“Back early?”

She yelped like one of the puppies. “Oh, Griffin. You scared
the living daylights out of me.” Her partner jerked her away from the van in a
constricted grip. “You’re hurting me.”

“Don’t play dumb, Sabrina. I saw you loading the animals. You
heard us inside and are moving them before we torch the place.”

She pulled. His grip tightened. “I don’t understand any of
this, Griffin. What’s going on?”

“Get inside.” He shoved a gun in her ribs. “Now.”

“Don’t do this. Don’t kill me, please. Whatever the problem is
we can work it out.” She stumbled as he propelled her through the door. “I’m
sure the police can sort through everything.”

“No, they can’t. I don’t give the orders. I follow them. My
office.”

The gun was securely in his hand and she shuffled through the
kennels sideways, unwilling to turn her back to him. What if he had the same
maniacal smile as the stranger?

Had Griffin shot someone before? He couldn’t have. He wasn’t
the man who drowned kittens—he was the veterinarian who saved them. Right? But
he was an excellent marksman, who wouldn’t miss when he fired.

How am I ever going to get away from you?
she wondered.

“Is it drugs? Money laundering? Who are you working for?” she
asked, stalling.
Think, think, think.
She couldn’t
allow herself to be trapped in his office. There was no way out. Only a slit of
a window, high above her head.

“None of the whys or whos matter anymore, Sabrina. There’s
nothing you can do.”

“Doing nothing is exactly what I did for the past two years
while you plotted to set me up to commit suicide.” She stopped at his office
door, so close to her own.

Unfortunately, her box of an office would be just as bad as
his. The window was just as high. There weren’t any weapons inside. The can of
pepper spray her father insisted she carry was on her key chain, in the van. Her
only path out of the building was blocked by Griffin.

“I didn’t think they’d really kill anybody. You were supposed
to take the blame, but they never said they’d kill you. But it’s you or me and I
won’t let it be me. I’m lucky I came back for my
insurance
before they torch this place. Otherwise, we’d both be dead
by morning.”

The light in his office was already on. The door was ajar
enough to see an open briefcase overstuffed with paper. His insurance?

“I can’t believe you’re going to just kill me.” But she knew he
meant what he said. What if
she
got his
“insurance”?

Tears of fear trickled down her cheeks. She covered her face
with her hands, leaning close to the picture of puppies they’d rescued last
year. But she wouldn’t voluntarily move another inch to her death so she spread
her feet for a stronger fighting position.

He’d relaxed, leaned lazily against her office door. If she
could just delay him long enough to grab the briefcase and get to the van...she
might have a chance.

“It’s no use,” he said. “You might as well stop stalling.”

Sabrina looked up, plucking the scalpel from her pocket. “Would
you stop?” she shouted, lunging at his leg, stabbing him as deeply as she
could.

He screamed. Fell. The gun went off. She darted into his
office, grabbed his briefcase of “insurance” and ran for her life.