Slow Hands (31 page)

Inside, Griggs sat at the kitchen table, the gun still trained on her. "Pour me a glass from that jug." He nodded toward the counter.

Keira did as he asked, pouring two fingers into a glass. Her hands shook.

"I'll say when," he said.

She tipped the jug, filled the glass.

"When. Now bring it here."

Keira set the glass on the table.

Griggs took a gulp, drew back his lips. "The devil's own brew." He took another swig, then raised the gun, leveled it at her. "Now, let's talk. Beau told me about your little show at the lake. How about you take off your clothes for me, Keira. Nice and slow."

The thought of what he had in mind made Keira ill. She took an involuntary step backward, shook her head. She'd never willingly comply.

Griggs slammed the glass down, sloshing whiskey across the table.

"Maybe this will make you reconsider." He cocked the gun.

Keira closed her eyes and screamed as the gun discharged, the sound loud in the confines of the cabin. She braced, expecting pain.

She opened her eyes quickly as she realized she had not been hit. Had he fired a warning shot?

To her horror, she saw Griggs facedown on the table, the back of his head blown to a bloody mess. The gun slipped from his grip, clattered onto the floor. Her stomach lurched, heaved.

"Keira."

She recognized the voice, turned toward it. "Reggie!"

Reggie Reeves stepped past Ian Griggs, kicked the gun to the far side of the room. "Don't worry. He's dead."

Dead.
Shaken, Keira nodded. The urge to be sick grew. "We need to . . . to . . . call—"

Reggie was beside her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, drew her close. "Shhhhh. You're okay. And Griggs will never harm another person."

Keira went willingly into his embrace, desperately needing comfort. Horror mingled with confusion.

Reggie's fingers wove through her hair, gentle.

But only for a moment. His hand closed, taking a handful of her hair and twisting painfully as he pressed the metal barrel of his gun to her temple.

"Where's your grandfather, Keira?"

Alec's supervisor not only vouched for his presence in Freedom, he promised to launch an investigation into Miles Ostman's handling of the case. "As soon as I can get a hold of the bastard, that is."

Neither Ostman nor Phelps had returned Alec's phone calls, so Alec doubted his supervisor would have much luck.

As soon as he left the sheriff's department, Alec returned to Keira's apartment. She had left a note saying she'd gone to her grandfather's. Actually, the note appeared to be unfinished. Had she been interrupted while writing it?

His cell phone rang.

"It's Horace Phelps."

"Where the hell are you? And Ostman?" Alec demanded. "Beau Watson is dead, and I want some straight answers."

Phelps was silent. "Ostman's disappeared. I think Ciccone got wind of what he was doing and had him offed. Beau warned us Ciccone had his own man planted in town. Said it was an electrician. Ostman laughed because he thought they meant you."

Alec's mind flew back to the scene yesterday of Reggie buying oil at the gas station. From Ian Griggs. "I know who Ciccone's man is."
Reggie Reeves.

"Then I better tell you the rest of the story." Phelps quickly explained about the gold coins and Ostman's dreams of glory. "He was obsessed with nailing Ciccone."

Alec started cursing as the confusing pieces fell into place. Stolen gold coins. The Lost Confederate Gold. Keira's necklace. Did Ian Griggs think Willis Morgan had found his stolen gold?

"Call this in. To your supervisor and mine."

No sooner had Alec hung up than Carl Winters called. "Wanted to warn you and Keira. Ian Griggs is AWOL. I went over to the halfway house to interview the staff. Turns out Griggs had promised one guy money in exchange for favors. The guy admitted fudging attendance logs. He's not happy to be left holding the bag."

Alec quickly filled Carl in on his conversation with Horace Phelps. "You go find Reggie Reeves. I'm going up to Fire Mountain to get Keira and her grandfather."

Reggie forced Keira into the middle of the living room before releasing her.

"This is the last time I'm asking. Where's your grandfather?"

"I don't know." She looked at him, at the gun he held. "What do you want with Willis?"

Reggie reached in his pocket and dug out her necklace. He tossed it at her feet.

"That armored truck Griggs robbed belonged to my boss. And he had a very old, very rare gold coin collection on it. That's one of the coins. If your grandfather found the coins, I bet he found the money. Griggs swore they were hidden in the same place. I'm just here to collect my boss's property."

The news stunned Keira even as she tried to sort out the stories.

With awful clarity, she understood why everyone was so interested in finding Willis. Her grandfather hunted for the Lost Confederate Gold regularly. Or at least he had up until a few months ago . . .

Come to think of it, he hadn't been searching for the gold in a while. Claimed he was too busy helping Lacy. What had Willis gotten himself into?

"Am I supposed to believe you're just wanting to take the coins and leave? Providing my grandfather even has them, of course?"

The awful silence was an answer.

Reggie shook his head. "I really did like you, you know. You're a strong woman. I'd hoped to pull this off behind your back, then quit. So we could date. Dempsey is a loser. From what I heard, he was never good enough for you."

Keira's mind raced. "You and I can still—"

"It's too late. I know he's working for the FBI."

Reggie tossed her his cell phone. "No more talking. We need to figure out where your grandfather is.
Now."

Alec stopped before reaching Willis's driveway. A truck was parked in the woods, half-hidden in the trees. He recognized the vehicle.
Reggie's.

Abandoning his Jeep, Alec approached Willis's cabin from behind, hiding in the dense trees lining one side. Keira's truck was in the yard.

Staying low, he peered in a window, saw Reggie with a gun trained on Keira.

He cursed his own blindness. Alec hadn't liked Reggie from the beginning but had blamed it on his own jealousy. He hadn't suspected the other man of anything except wanting to get in Keira's bed. Obviously, he'd been after more.

Alec knew he couldn't storm the cabin and risk Keira's getting hurt. He also didn't want to leave her alone while he went for help.

Tucking his gun in at his back, he walked straight up to the door and knocked.

No one answered.

"I know you're in there, Keira! It's Alec." He hoped to make it sound like he was simply looking for her. Not that it mattered at this point.

He heard a slight sound, like a scuffle. Then Keira said, "Come in. Door's unlocked."

Alec pushed the door wide, then stepped through.

Keira sat in a straight-backed chair in the middle of the living room. Reggie stood behind her, a gun held casually to her head.

"Don't move, Dempsey," Reggie ordered. "Now put your gun on the floor."

Alec lowered his hands. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ian Griggs's lifeless body in the kitchen.

Reggie moved closer to Keira. "Don't try anything stupid."

Moving slowly, Alec tugged his gun free and set it on the floor.

"Kick it over here." Reggie said. "Do the same with your other one. I know you've got a backup piece."

Alec shook his head, doubting Reggie would check. "I came straight from jail."

Reggie shrugged. "I don't believe you."

Keira saw Reggie swing his gun toward Alec. She screamed as he fired, the roar deafening so close to her ear.

Alec jerked, then fell forward.

Moving without thought, Keira swung her legs, kicked Reggie, then dived for Alec's gun, retrieving it as she rolled across the floor, her only thought to get to Alec.

When she sat up, she saw Reggie had his gun trained on her. "You lose. Drop it."

"Go ahead and shoot." Keira steadied the pistol. "But I swear, I'll take you with me."

Reggie smiled. Then moved his gun sideways toward Alec. "I'll shoot him, then. Again. He's still breathing, you know. Maybe he's got a chance."

Keira heard a metallic
click
as a gun cocked.

Not hers. Not Reggie's.

She glanced off to the side. Willis Morgan was crouched half-in, half-out of a trapdoor near the fireplace, a rifle aimed at Reggie. The trapdoor led to a small tunnel that exited south of the cabin, an escape route first used during Indian attacks and later during moonshine raids.

"Drop it," Willis ordered.

Reggie swung his pistol toward Willis.

Keira fired, but her shot went high.

Reggie, however, dropped to his knees, clutching his bloody hand. The gun had been shot right out of his grip.

Bewildered, Keira looked at her grandfather. She knew her shot had missed Reggie.

Willis nodded toward the door. Carl Winters was crouched in the door, revolver in hand.

"I got him." Carl cautiously approached. "Check Alec."

Keira was already at Alec's side. He hadn't moved. Gingerly, she checked for a pulse.
Please be alive,
she prayed.
Please.

Blood was everywhere.

Willis moved up beside her. "Help me turn him."

"Should we move him?"

"Gotta see how bad it is, gal. Stop the bleeding."

Alec groaned when they turned him over. Keira saw the wound in his abdomen. Her heart stopped.

Willis pressed a towel against it to stem the bleeding.

Alec tried to speak.

"Don't talk, boy," Willis said. "Save your strength."

Keira heard Carl, behind her, on his radio, shouting for backup. She bent low, pressed her lips to Alec's temple. "Help is on the way. You're going to be fine."

Alec looked up, saw the pain in her eyes. He'd hurt her yet again, and this time there wouldn't be a second chance.

He'd seen men shot before, knew his injury was severe. And they were miles from a hospital. Already he felt cold, recognized that he'd pass out soon. But there was one thing he had to tell her.

"If I could do it all over, I'd grant your wish," he whispered. "I'd have never come into your life."

Keira's cheeks were wet. "No! I was wrong, Alec. If I could do it again, I'd have still loved you.
Only you.
Then and now."

He coughed, felt the strangling. Time was short. "I'll hold you to that. I—"

The sound of sirens cut off his last words. Carl Winters tugged her back as others surged in. Paramedics. Deputies. Alec was hoisted onto a gurney.

"They're landing a chopper at the base of the mountain," Carl told her. "We've got to get him out of here as fast as we can."

Keira followed to the door, then stopped as the ambulance sped away.

Once again, Alec was leaving Fire Mountain.
With her heart.

"I love you," she whispered through tears. "I'll always love you."

And as long as he lived . . . nothing else mattered.

Epilogue

FOUR MONTHS LATER—THANKSGIVING DAY

Alec
Dempsey pulled into the cabin site but didn't get out of his car.

Completely finished, the cabin looked perfect. Wisps of applewood smoke drifted from the chimney, scenting the air. Curtains hung at the windows.

Keira had built a home.

The thing he'd always looked for but never found.

Until now.

Was it too
late?

He climbed out, pausing to look around yet again, before grabbing the cane. He had intended to stay away until he didn't need it anymore. He had promised himself he wouldn't come back until he was one hundred percent whole.

But he couldn't stay away. He had learned he wouldn't recover without her. She had his heart... He'd left it with her over ten years before, and never even realized it.

God, he'd been a dumb ass.

And like scores of dumb asses before him, he prayed he wasn't too late, that he hadn't totally screwed it up. That Keira would give him the barest of chances.

Right after the shooting, she
had
stayed by his side, night and day, while he clung to life in intensive care in Little Rock.

He'd had complications. Infections. A severe reaction to a medication. He'd been unconscious most of the time, so had only a few scattered memories of Keira being there when he called out in the night. His angel of mercy.

Once he stabilized, he'd been transferred to a Chicago hospital, where an orthopedic wizard knit his lower spine back together. Then he'd endured months of grueling physical therapy. Alone. He hadn't wanted her to see him crawl.

Dumb ass. Dumb ass. Dumb ass.

He hadn't seen her since leaving Little Rock. Wondered how she'd take seeing him now.

He was back for good. He had accepted a position with the sheriff's department—as soon as his doctor released him, that is. Would that please her? Or would she care?

He understood she'd been upset to learn he was ATF. That he'd deceived her.

He also understood he couldn't go back and change the past. Any of it. Life could only be lived facing forward.

He went up to the porch, rapped on the door.

"Door's unlocked," Keira called out. "I'm in the kitchen."

Alec entered, followed the short hall. His eyes took in the warm luster of log walls. Antique woodworking tools decorated the foyer.

He found her standing at the kitchen sink, her back to him. His eyes devoured the long tumble of red curls.

"Hello, babe. I guess you're expecting someone else," he said.

He watched her spine stiffen, her shoulders straighten. She twisted, her gaze sweeping up and down, missing nothing.

She turned away briefly, reached for a hand towel.

"Hello, Alec. I was expecting Franny." She kept drying her hands. "You look good."

"So do you." She looked fabulous. The yearning to touch her, hold her, rose up hard and fast. His carefully planned speech flew out the window.

"The place looks great." He motioned toward the stove, the pots and pans she had set out. "Expecting a crowd for Thanksgiving?"

"Franny and Darryl."

"Willis?"

She shook her head. "He took all his buddies on a cruise with part of his reward money. Old coot's never left the state in his life, and he picks a holiday to start."

Alec grinned. As it turned out, Willis had indeed found the stolen gold, though from what he'd heard, the FBI had a hell of a time convincing him it wasn't the Lost Confederate Gold.

When Willis finally relented and took investigators to the mine shaft where he'd found the coins, they discovered that the money was still there, but buried even deeper, beneath a landslide from a previous collapse.

Willis had promptly claimed the reward.

"I—" Alec began.

"I—" They both spoke at the same time.

"You first," Alec said.

Keira took a breath, recalling the vow she'd made months ago: If Alec recovered, she'd never ask for another favor from life. As much as she wanted to see him, she'd stayed away.

If you love something, set it free . . .

"I'm surprised to see you back here. I know this place doesn't have a lot of good memories for you."

Alec took a step closer. "On the contrary. It's got some of my best. Might be a good place to build more."

Keira felt her heart rate accelerate. "What does that mean?"

"I finally figured out what I was looking for, Keira. A home.
You.
If you'll have me, that is."

She felt light-headed, dizzy. "But, but you didn't like Freedom. You left me."

"I didn't like myself." He shifted his weight. "And I left because years ago I had nothing to offer you. It never dawned on me we could build whatever we wanted together. Right here.
Right now."

At her silence, he took a step closer, held out his hand. "I came back to ask you to give me another chance. To give
us
another chance."

Keira stared at his hand, at the distance separating them. Did she dare close the gap?

She closed her eyes. Felt the doubt. Felt the love. She moved forward.

Alec met her halfway. He drew her fingers to his mouth, kissed them one by one. "I love you, Keira. I always have. Always will. I'm sorry it took me ten years to realize that."

 
"I-"

"Let me finish. Will you marry me?"

Tears overflowed in her eyes. She nodded, unable to speak.

Alec released the breath he'd been holding. "I'd like to get married today, but I'm sure you want to wait until Willis returns."

Keira laughed, recovered her voice. "Actually, we should do it while he's gone. Willis won't be keen on having a revenuer in the family, but he might think twice about shooting my husband."