Dream Huntress (A Dreamseeker novel) (Entangled Ignite) (19 page)

Chapter Sixteen

“I want your word you’re not going to fly out of here half-cocked, or I’ll cuff you to the closest coma patient.” Bahan said.

Ty didn’t answer. He was making no such promises. As far as he was concerned, the earth would rotate much more smoothly without the stink of Arlo and Warren Buck polluting the surface. If anything happened to Jordan, he was going to do his part to clean up the environment before sundown.

But the Fed’s threat to cuff him may not have been an idle one, so he kept quiet. He figured he could take Bahan, but there were twelve other cops huddled around, and all of them seemed to be kissing Bahan’s ass. The odds weren’t in his favor.

Ty straightened, lunging forward when a doctor walked into the waiting room. “Are any of you Detective Delany’s next of kin?”

“She’s a cop, we’re all cops, so yeah, we’re family,” Bahan answered.

“I need to contact her legal family. Does she have—”

“No husband, her parents are dead, no living relatives. I have her power of attorney, so spill it.”

The doctor looked around at the large huddle of cops with a skeptical glance, then must have concluded the odds weren’t in his favor, either. “She’s doing remarkably well under the circumstances. She’s had some head trauma and comes in and out of consciousness. She has four cracked ribs. That’s what we’re dealing with first.

“A more minor concern is an injury to her eye. We’ll have a specialist look at it, but she’s quite a fighter and doing quite well, I’d say. We’ll know more in an hour or so.”

Those were much needed words. Ty inhaled deeply, feeling like it was his first real breath since they’d found her. Gauging by the collective sigh that shot through the waiting room, he wasn’t the only one that had been holding his breath. As the doctor left, Ty said to Bahan, “I want to see her, but then I’m taking off for a little while.”

Bahan nodded toward the hallway. Ty followed him out of the waiting room and into a deserted hospital room.

“You want to be in this investigation, hotshot, you’re in,” Bahan said. “What’s your plan? Who’s your backup? We just learned the hard way that everybody needs backup.”

Ty had a Colt 1911 with seven in the clip and one in the chamber holstered to his chest. He didn’t figure he needed any other kind of backup, but he kept quiet.

“You’re pissed and not thinking it through, I can see it all over your face. You think I don’t want payback. Jordan and I have worked together for ten years. She’s a good friend and great cop. But if you go kill him, you spend the rest of your life in jail. You try to arrest him without lab reports and a statement from Jordan, his daddy will have him out and on an airplane to God knows where within the hour. Then we really
might
never see him again.”

Ty walked over to the window and stared out. It was the very last thing he wanted to admit—but the Fed was right. Ty understood better that anyone what was at stake. “So you want me to do nothing?”

“That’s exactly what I want you to do,” Bahan answered. “Think about it. Why did Warren do this?”

Ty jammed his hands in his pockets and turned to Bahan. “I think he did it because I screwed up.” He shrugged a shoulder. Guilt cut as sharply as a knife blade. “Either he figured out she was a cop, which I doubt. Or Warren beat the hell out of her because he saw me kiss her in the parking lot last night. My money’s on the second reason.”

“And now you’re the only connection we have on the inside.”

Ty let out a humorless laugh. “Some connection. You don’t honestly think Buck will let me step foot in his place now, do you?”

“Well, let’s think about this for a minute.” Bahan paced the length of the tiny room. “Whether it was Arlo or Warren who dumped her, they took her over an hour away from town and left her in the middle of nowhere. See, they thought she was just a worthless cocktail waitress with no family, because that’s how she played it. They never intended for anyone to find her. Hell, they probably figured it would be quite a while before anyone even bothered to report her missing. So we work with that. Get her to a safe house. For all intents and purposes, she’s dead.”

“But they know my connection with her. I’d lay money on it.”

“Good,” Bahan said. “Go back in there. Be distraught. Ask if anyone’s seen her.”

Ty tossed it around in his mind. “That might actually work.” It wasn’t a bad plan. In fact, he liked it better with every lap Bahan made across the room. “I could tell him we’d only been together a few times, but I thought we might have really had something. Cry on his shoulder a little, confess to him how worried I am because she hasn’t returned my calls.”

Bahan grinned. “I have a feeling Buck won’t be at all angry about the fact you were with her. He’ll be relieved. He may still hope no one finds her body, but if they do, he’ll pray that it’s your DNA, instead of Warren’s, that’s all over her. He’ll think he’s found a nail for your coffin and Warren’s ticket to freedom. Oh, I think Big Daddy Buck is going to want to keep you—his son’s get-out-of-jail-free card—very, very close.”

Chapter Seventeen

Jordan suspected she was at Ty’s boyhood home. Of course, she had no idea where that was. Nor did she care. An exorbitant amount of pain did that to a person, reduced curiosity to nil.

After four nights in the hospital, she’d been stable enough to leave. The following four days whirled by in a blur of exhaustion, discomfort, and Vicodin
,
all accompanied by Ty’s placating answers when she did work up enough energy to ask a question.

But when she woke this morning, the fog had lifted. Likely because she refused the handful of pills Ty attempted to poke down her last night. Oh, yeah, her aches were starting to spike a little, but she was coherent for the first time in over a week. And the perpetual stomach grinding from all the medicine was easing. That alone was worth tolerating some discomfort.

A shower sounded like heaven. Had she dreamed of Ty washing her off with a wet rag and feeding her milkshakes through a straw, or was the man really that much of a saint?

The clock read 8:58 a.m. Where was he?

She remembered periods of time when he’d been gone. An older woman had sat by her bedside. His mother? Grandmother? She couldn’t remember. The days and nights and details ran together.

She gingerly scooted to the edge of the bed. There was pain and stiffness, but moving felt good. Today, Ty was
not
going to dodge her. Once and for all, she intended to get answers.

She walked out of the bedroom, stopping at the top of the stairs. Never before had one flight looked so daunting. But she took them slow and easy and made it to the first floor without incident.

“What are you doing down here?” Ty grabbed a rolling chair and scooted it under her legs when she staggered into the kitchen. “I think you’re pale, but it’s hard to tell for sure through the bruises.” He pushed her to the table and shook his head.

The crooked tilt of his lips made her heart skip a beat.

“You know that scene in
Rocky
,” he said, “where he was getting beat up, and his trainer had to cut his eyelids open so he could see?”

Not at all amused, she narrowed her one good eye at him. “I’m a disaster. I get it.”

“Yo, Adrienne. You want I should make you some eggs and bacon,” he said with a pathetic Rocky imitation.

“You’re a real comedian.” She continued to glare. “Don’t give up your day job.”

He pulled up a chair facing her. “You didn’t take any pain meds last night. How do you feel?”

“Better. Everything’s better.” She moved a hand to his cheek. “I don’t know how to thank you for taking care of me.”

“I’ve got a few ideas about that. See if you feel good enough to start with this.” He kissed her, as light as a feather, then leaned his forehead against hers. Fatigue and worry weaved noticeably through his long sigh. “It’s so good to have you back. You just don’t know—”

“Shhh.” She stroked his face and kissed him. “I do know. You’ve been through hell, too, and I’m sorry.” She picked up his hand. “But I need you to talk to me. For real this time. No beating around the bush.”

Her words were met with silence. He stood, walked to the stove, and cracked a couple of eggs. “What do you want to know?”

“Start with something easy. Who’s the little gray-haired woman who’s sometimes in the bedroom when I wake up?”

He glanced over his shoulder as he whipped the eggs.

“My nana.”

Jordan couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped. Couldn’t help the ache that punched through her ribs, either.

Ty turned, fisted his hands on his hips. “What?”

“Big, bad, stud-muffin Tyler McGee has a nana.” She laughed again, gentler this time.

“A nana who was a nurse for forty-one years, thank you very much.” He turned back to the stove.

“Does she bake you cookies and pinch your cheeks?”

“No, smartass.” He poured the eggs in the pan. “She makes rockin’ pies and teaches ballroom dancing at the high school every Thursday night.” He slipped back into his Rocky imitation. “You got a problem with that?”

“Not at all,” she said. “No problem at all.” She watched him cook, noticing he looked pretty much at home in front of a frying pan. “I can see how much you love her. I’m grateful, and I’ll want to thank her, but I don’t want her coming here anymore. She’ll be in danger. I don‘t want that kind of responsibility.” She looked around the room. “Why are we here anyway? And where exactly
is
here?”

He scooped the eggs onto a plate and slid them in front of her. “This is my parents’ house, a farm in Longdale. It’s private—no close neighbors. Good security system I personally installed. Mom and Dad spend winters in Florida, and I keep things running around here. They won’t mind.”

“And it’s close enough so you can still work at Buck’s, right?” His quiet hesitation answered her question. Her heart hammered against already painful ribs. “How the hell can you still be working inside Buck’s?”

He sat next to her. “I told Buck about us.”

She dropped her fork and pushed the eggs away. Her throat squeezed so tight, she could barely speak. “You did what?”

“Told him I was worried and didn’t know what happened. Didn’t understand why you’d just take off.” With two fingers, Ty tapped a thudding beat into the table. “It was Bahan’s call, and he called it exactly right. Buck was downright warm. Offered me sympathies about irrational women and assured me you’d show up. Said you probably just took off with a friend for a week or so.”

Jordan didn’t look at him, didn’t want to hear what he was saying.

“Buck wants me close so he can point the finger at me if and when your body is found.”

“Oh, God, they still think I’m dead?”

Ty nodded.

Of course they did. She had to admit, it was a good plan. Ty was still inside Buck’s, still the best chance they had to nail Arlo and Warren, and the thought of him under the same roof as the Bucks made her absolutely sick to her stomach.

She picked up his hand, twined her fingers though his. “Look, I’m a cop, so I understand the job. I understand the risks. I’m not a neurotic, panicked female asking you to give up a career or anything.” She looked him in the eye, hoping it was enough. “But please don’t go back there. I really don’t want you inside that nightclub, or anywhere inside Buck’s organization.”

His jaw clenched, and she recognized the stubborn set of his eyes.

“And
I
really need to finish this.”

“Why?” she asked. “Revenge? You don’t need to prove anything because of me.”

“It’s not because of you, Jordan.”

That’s a lie, she thought, cocking her head as she eyed him.

“Okay, it’s not
only
because of you. All the things we talked about before, they still apply.”

“I understand, I really do. How could I not? But for the first time in my life…” She looked away, deciding she really needed to shut up and get a handle on her emotions.

He touched her face, gently turned her head until she looked at him. “What? For the first time in your life, what?”

She waved him off, then stood to get away, but pain shot through her chest and froze her in place. She eased back into the chair, attempted to bend forward and bury her face in her hands. But the tenderness in her ribs wouldn’t allow that, either.

“Damn it,” she growled, leaning back and realizing she couldn’t move fast enough to hide her emotions. She gave in and peeked at him. He was clearly fighting a smile.

“It’s not funny,” she said through the tears. “I hate being weak.”

He scooted his chair closer and took her hands. “No, baby, I know. It’s not funny. And it’s damned hard to make a dramatic exit with so many boo-boos, isn’t it?”

She socked him in the shoulder. “You’re such a jerk sometimes.” But he’d broken the tension. Which she supposed was his plan.

He leaned forward and kissed her lightly.

It felt like years had passed since they’d been together. She raised both hands to his face and parted his lips with a gentle lick. He fell deeply, quickly, into the kiss, and she sucked at his tongue, desperate to have some part of him, any part of him, inside her.

The lingering rough edges of pain began to smooth and numb. She gasped as his lips traveled across her cheek and down her neck. The way the real world and all of its darkness faded under his touch was nothing short of miraculous.

His hand smoothed around her ribs. At her slight wince, he jerked away, breathing heavily. “Baby, I’m sorry.”

She smiled. “I’m not. If fact, I was just working out the logistics—”

“No.” He scooted back but still held her hands. “You’d never survive that today.” He smiled, but then his gray eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You were trying to distract me,” he accused.

“You kissed me first.”

“Quit avoiding my question. Spill it, detective. For the first time in your life, what?”

Pausing for a long moment, she finally said, “For the first time in my life, there is something besides the job.” She looked into his eyes and swallowed hard. “I didn’t think I’d ever find that. Being a cop has given me sanity in a lot of ways, ways I can’t explain. But without you…” Damn it, she
had
become a neurotic, panicked female.

“Let me ask you something.” He held her head in place so she had no choice but to look at him. Softly, he brushed her tears away with his thumbs. “And answer me honestly. If Warren had beaten me almost to death, and you had a chance to shut him and Buck down, would you walk away? Could you walk away?”

It was an unfair question, because they both knew the answer was no.

“Warren doesn’t need to figure out you’re still a cop to kill you. He hates you because of me. Any moment you let your guard down, he could hurt you.”

“If we don’t stop Warren and Arlo, they continue to hurt all of us. You, me, this town, the whole damn Midwest. Their drugs are going everywhere, Jordan.” Obviously frustrated, he stood, pacing away and back again. “Bahan retrieved your phone and all the photos you snapped in Buck’s office. There was a picture of Warren on a beach with a couple other guys. One of those guys was identified as Fredrick Lopez. Lopez is a suspected drug runner for Julio Delago. Solid proof of the connection between the Bucks and the Delago Cartel.”

Jordan exhaled a shaky breath. She
knew
something about that picture was off.

Ty tilted her head up. “You’ve spent your whole career fighting against this kind of thing.” He leveled her with a pointed look. “And unlike someone else I know, I’m wearing a wire and carrying a gun. You know I’ll be careful. I know you understand this.”

What she understood was that he would continue with or without her blessing, and that guilt was a dangerous distraction he couldn’t afford. She’d already put him through hell. So she nodded and choked back the horrible images of how the last two officers she’d worked with ended up after crossing the Delago Cartel.