Nobody's Angel (41 page)

His head slowly lifted as a new path emerged through the crowded forest of his mind. He and Faith had put the fear into McCowan, not Tony. Piggy hadn't once mentioned Tony.
Sammy
was the one who had known that Tony was alive.

Someone had chased Tony's car and driven him off the road. Sammy already had a suspicious history of that sort of activity. Sammy's sister was in a position to inherit half a million dollars if Tony could be proved dead.

McCowan might have power, but Sammy was the wild card, playing both ends against the middle.

If McCowan had thought Tony dead, he would almost certainly
have found some means of cashing in their ill-gotten gains. Returned from the dead, Tony would scream bloody murder at the betrayal.

If Sammy was in jail, he could be desperate enough to play his wild card by telling McCowan that Tony was alive. From all points of view, Tony needed to be dead.

And Faith was alone in that room with him.

Adrian was already halfway down the hall as all these thoughts snapped into place. He had to get Faith out of there before Sammy called McCowan. Or McCowan found some means of—

Faith's scream shattered the last remaining shard of his peace. Not looking to see who else heard, Adrian dodged IV stands and linen carts, shoved past startled visitors and crashed through the doorway he'd seen Faith enter earlier.

Faith lay still and crumpled on the floor.

Anger seared him. The futility of the loss of all that was good and right washed over him, followed by blind rage at the man who had deprived the world of a treasure.

Swinging toward the bed, Adrian caught the bulky intruder in the process of straightening up, grabbed him by the seat of his pants and shirt collar and hurled him at the wall.

McCowan's shoulder crashed into the plaster, and as he staggered to right himself, Adrian grabbed his shirtfront, rammed the top of his head upward into the larger man's jaw, kneed him in the groin, and flung him along the small stretch of floor not occupied by Faith. Bedpans and IVs crashed and clattered as Piggy slid into them.

Rage flooded Adrian each time he saw Faith's inert form, and without waiting for McCowan to rise again, he leaped on his back and began smashing his face into the tile.

Strong hands grabbed Adrian's arms and jerked him backward.

“Enough, Adrian. I've got cuffs. I'll use them on you if I have to.”

Adrenaline still boiled through his veins, but Adrian recognized Jim's voice and forcibly throttled the fury that required he beat the man on the floor into a bloody pulp.

Shoving up without looking at Jim, he fell to his knees beside Faith.

A nurse was already with her, testing her pulse, lifting her head, and providing a pillow as Faith stirred. He'd thought her dead.

Adrian took a deep breath to quell his remaining panic, and with tears stinging his eyes, poured his gratitude into prayer. It took another moment to control his shudders.

He didn't want to be caught wiping his eyes, but he couldn't stay away. He lifted Faith into his arms, so the first thing she saw when her lashes lifted was him.

She smiled, and his heart swelled with joy. And love. He touched his forehead to hers, absorbing that insanity.

“Tony?” she asked.

His swollen heart crumbled back to the dust from whence it came.

Grudgingly, he glanced up. Jim had McCowan in cuffs. A hospital security guard had joined him. An intern bent over the bed, examining the patient, who was fighting to sit up, issuing obscenities through plastic tubing. That was Tony all right. Adrian couldn't believe he'd just saved the bastard's life.

“He's alive,” Adrian said, answering Faith's unspoken question. “Sandra doesn't get her half million. McCowan goes to jail. Pity we can't arrange to send Tony there as well.”

“Oh, we can.” Her smile was stronger as she positioned herself more comfortably in Adrian's arms and poked at the sore spot on her head. Taking that as a good sign, the nurse stood up and returned to her other patient.

“Tony might give evidence against McCowan, charge him with attempted murder even, but he isn't about to produce evidence on himself,” Adrian said with suspicion. She might have torn his heart out and made muddy clay out of it, but she hadn't turned his brain to mush. Yet.

“I lied and told Tony I would give the keys to McCowan if he didn't cooperate with the D.A., but first I would tell Sandra where to find him,” Faith said with satisfaction. “He hadn't known she was in town.”

Adrian stared at her in disbelief. “He didn't come up out of the bed and strangle you, right then and there?”

She snuggled against his chest until her words were muffled. “Nah, I told him I'd just cut Sammy with a beer bottle, and I had no compunction against doing the same to him. I think he believed me—I know where the bank boxes are now.”

Adrian laughed. He couldn't help himself. Every head in the room turned, but all he could manage was not rolling on the floor while the laughter billowed out of him. He loved her. Oh God, how he loved this insanely wonderful woman.

And he couldn't have her. That shut him up fast enough.

“So, who does Tony fear most, you or Sandra?” He tried to hide the turmoil boiling through him. She'd given him hope for a future, and dashed it at the same time.

Faith chuckled. “Me, I hope. He thought Sandra had collected the life insurance, was living in wealth in Florida, and had probably married. He'd calculated he had time to provide adequate compensation before she discovered she'd have to pay it all back. Knowing she'd been living hand-to-mouth for three years and that she was here in town scared the devil out of him. That's what comes of keeping dangerous company.”

They couldn't sit here like this forever, as much as he hated the idea of letting her go. Adrian set her back from him, stood, and pulled her up.

“He hasn't figured out that Sammy was probably the one who chased him off the road?” he asked as Faith looked at him with a question in her eyes.

“I think he's still a little fuzzy about the accident. Tony had just gone to the bank to pick up some spending money, but he made the mistake of letting Sammy know he was in town. Sammy must have been waiting for him.”

Faith clung to his hand and stood close enough that their arms brushed as they watched the intern shooting Tony with a sedative. Adrian didn't want her watching Tony. He looked helpless, and all women liked mothering the helpless. Faith especially. Disgruntled, Adrian dragged her from the room.

“Must have startled Sammy to have the dead rise again,” he
said cynically, drawing her down the corridor. They still needed to press charges against McCowan and company. He'd bet his future wages that McCowan had figured it would be easy to shoot a hospital patient full of something painful, and discovering Faith in the room had simply provided him with the perfect suspect. If he hadn't arrived when he did … He wouldn't think about it.

“I imagine Tony's appearance more than startled Sammy,” Faith agreed, “especially if Piggy had convinced him he could collect the life insurance. Sammy must have totally lost it. McCowan's apparently had that policy for years, and never acted on it.”

“I should think the only reason Piggy bothered talking to the Shaws this time was because he wanted Sammy to stop us. If I'd known we'd stir up such a hornet's nest, I never would have brought you here.”

“Yeah, you would. You thought I was one of the hornets, and you wanted to stomp me,” Faith said complacently as the elevator door opened.

Yeah, just one of the many errors in judgment he'd made over the years. How many more would he have to make before he got it right?

He vowed that this time, whatever errors he made wouldn't hurt Faith, no matter what the cost to him.

November

Adrian hadn't called her—not once in the nearly two months since he'd helped her load her box of photos and her vase into the Isuzu and kissed her good-bye. The kiss had told her everything he hadn't said in words. It had been as cautious as their stilted farewells. After the impact of Tony's return, perhaps they'd needed that civilized leave-taking to collect themselves.

But time had run out, and she wanted—needed—to see where things stood.

Faith sat quietly on a back bench of the courtroom as the judge set bond on Tony to the tune of half a million dollars. Tony might have that kind of money stashed in offshore accounts, but she doubted he could access it easily. Her lawyer told her Tony had spent the last three years in South America with a lovely Brazilian señorita who was undoubtedly far less demanding than Faith or Sandra. The day they'd run off together, he'd decided to take her on a cruise rather than fly down to Rio.

The plane's crash without him must have seemed an act of fate, and Tony had never been one to discard an opportunity.

Faith wondered if his pretty señorita was enjoying his ill-gotten gains now, or if Tony had managed to secure them somewhere where the courts and no one else could touch them. Either way, he could be behind bars for a long time. Not as long as McCowan, however. Tony may have committed
perjury and fraud and deserted his kids, and been stupid enough to believe he could live happily in Rio with his new mistress, but he hadn't tried to kill anyone, as McCowan and Sammy had. With all the evidence Jim and his police buddies had jubilantly gathered, none of them would go free for a good long while. With due diligence, the court might even squeeze them of every penny they had stolen as well. Tony would finally suffer as Adrian had.

Her gaze slid to a corner of the courtroom. She wouldn't have come here today at all if it wasn't for the man sitting on the front bench. He didn't need her here. Hadn't asked her to come. But this was excuse enough to see him one more time, and she had come with hope—and heart—in hand.

She still couldn't believe she'd fallen for another lawyer, but she thought—she prayed—Adrian was different. Unlike Tony, Adrian's greed had been for his family. He'd even put her before himself. He had so many good things going for him, she couldn't blame him for his arrogance—if only that arrogance hadn't convinced him he was responsible for the whole damned world.

He looked different already, more like the lawyer she remembered from the trial. The defiant ponytail was gone. Raven black hair still brushed his suit collar, but it had been carefully styled to look civilized, even as it emphasized the savage sharpness of his facial structure. He wasn't wearing the earring, but she wondered if he would pin it on when he walked out of the courthouse. Adrian knew the rules when he chose to apply them.

Faith blocked out the yearning sweeping her. She couldn't change Adrian if he didn't want to change. If he still thought he had to carry the world on his shoulders, that he had to be rich and powerful to deserve a life of his own, then they had nothing to say to each other. She'd had enough of that kind of misery to last a lifetime.

She'd stayed in touch with his family. Juan had told her Adrian was working with him at the pottery while the wheels of justice ground slowly. Belinda had said working with Juan
put a crimp in Adrian's visits home, but he was available when his family needed him. He was managing to send them money. The girls were cheerleading again. He was teaching the boys wrestling. Their mother was back on her feet. Belinda was convinced that happiness at Adrian's return had healed her. Faith loved him too much to take him from all that, or to add to his burden.

A twinge of regret tugged at her heart, and she pinched the bridge of her nose to fight tears. She had every reason in the world to be happy except one. She'd learned to live with far worse. She'd proved she could survive and fashion a decent life for herself, but she was tired of just surviving. Living without Adrian ate at her night and day. He had taught her so much in those few weeks.… She couldn't pack all that passion in a box and store it away again.

As the courtroom proceedings ended, Adrian stood and turned around. At sight of her, he produced a genuine smile and hurried forward. Faith had forgotten how easy it was for a lawyer to produce that kind of charm, but she'd learned to judge men by their actions and not their smiles. She'd hoped and prayed for two months now, and he hadn't called. She'd already let enough time pass her by. She knew she had to move on—but she had to give him this one last chance. She didn't smile as he took her hand.

“Faith! You didn't have to drive all the way back here to see this. I could have called you.”

“But you wouldn't have.” She withdrew her hand. She'd lived inside this man for over two weeks, knew when he was happy, knew when he was holding back. Knew he didn't want her here. She hid her tears. “I had Belinda ask Jim to keep tabs on the court date. I wanted to be very certain Tony didn't wiggle out of this one.”

Placing a familiar hand at her back, Adrian guided her out. “They were so busy squealing on each other that the evidence I put together was scarcely necessary.”

“They'll let you have your license back,” she said politely. “I'm happy for you.”

“Are you?” He looked down at her quizzically. She thought she saw sadness there, but they all made choices. The two weeks they'd spent together wasn't such a very long time. Perhaps he'd gone past it, as she hadn't. Perhaps, in time, she would get over it, too, find another life, another path.