Outsider (20 page)

“I agree.” Rodrigo moved forward. “I'll make it right with Cobb. I owe him a few apologies before he can draw his sidearm,” he added enigmatically. “But I want to see how Sarina is.”

Colby followed Rodrigo back into the warehouse. He knew that she was right, it was a flesh wound, and not life-threatening. But he felt guilty and outraged and upset, all at once.

She was out front with the paramedics, one of whom was looking at her arm.

She looked up when Colby and Rodrigo approached, but she wouldn't meet Colby's cold glance.

Rodrigo squatted down in front of her, his face concerned. “Are you going to be all right?” he asked gently.

She smiled at him in a way that made Colby turn to stone. “I'll be fine.” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

He nodded, catching the hand to hold it tightly in his.

“Did you get Vance?” she asked Colby, her eyes meeting his for the first time.

“No,” he replied. “He didn't recognize you and he still has ties to Dominguez and her operation. We're going to pretend he wasn't involved and see if we can use him to lead her into a trap.”

She started to protest angrily, but Rodrigo pressed her hand, hard.

“He's right,” he told her firmly. “Vance can't be apprehended just yet.”

“He shot me!” she raged, her dark eyes fierce and outraged. “Assault on a federal officer is a felony!” She glared at Rodrigo. “And why are you suddenly taking his side against me?” she demanded, jerking a thumb toward Colby.

Rodrigo glowered. “He…saved my life,” he said reluctantly. “One of the mules had the draw on me. He knocked him down with a bullet and questioned him about Vance.”

“Uh-oh,” Colby groaned.

“You feel guilty for saving my life?” Rodrigo mused.

“Not that. I used Vance's name in front of the mule,” Colby corrected. “We'll have to have Houston PD find a way to hold him incommunicado until we wind up this case.” He turned away from Sarina's accusing eyes. “I'll go talk to them.”

“Calm down,” Rodrigo told Sarina when Colby was out of earshot. “Smoke is coming out of your ears.”

She almost shuddered with anger. “Ouch!” she protested as the medic put on a temporary bandage.

“Sorry, ma'am,” he apologized with a grin, “but we have to get you ready to transport.”

“It's a flesh wound,” she growled at him, her dark eyes sparking with temper. “I don't need to be transported anywhere!”

“Oh, yeah?” he replied. “When was your last tetanus shot?”

She blinked. She couldn't remember ever having had one, unless it was when she was a child.

“If you can't remember, that's another reason to get in my truck, Rambo,” the medic said, chuckling.

“A bullet wound can easily get infected,” Rodrigo interjected. “I spent a week in hospital some years ago for doing what you're trying to do. You can't go home and wash it out with peroxide.”

She sighed angrily. “Okay, I'll go. But I'm not staying,” she added as she got into the ambulance.

Rodrigo didn't say another word, but he and the medic exchanged knowing glances.

 

C
OLBY
,
MEANWHILE
, had hunted up the policeman who'd followed him into the building. “I need a favor,” he told the man, a corporal, judging by his name tag.

“What is it?” the man asked.

He started to reach into his pocket when he noticed that one of the servos in his artificial arm had stopped working. Cursing violently, he took off his jacket, draped it over a nearby rail, and shot up his sleeve, exposing a bullet lodged in the prosthetic arm.

“Damn the luck!” he raged. “This thing is more trouble than it's worth.”

The policeman was eyeing it curiously. “How'd you lose your arm?”

“In Africa, doing covert ops,” he replied absently, checking the damage. “Well, I'll have to go home and get my spare.”

The police officer had straightened. “Listen,” he said, “I'm sorry about that rent-a-cop crack earlier,” he said genuinely. “It's just that I've had my problems with security guards who thought they were Eliot Ness.”

Colby gave him a grin. “So have I,” he mused. “In fact, we had one like that in D.C. when I was working security for the Hutton Corporation. He made such a nuisance of himself that we locked him in a closet with one of the terrorists. When he came out, he said he was going back to walking dogs for a living.”

“Terrorists?” the policeman queried.

Colby nodded as he replaced his sleeve and put his jacket back on. “They tried to blow up one of Hutton's oil platforms. We turned them over to Interpol.”

The man was very still. “Hutton was involved in that kidnapping overseas, the one that almost started a war. It made international headlines.”

Colby shrugged. “That was before I went to work for him. I was doing a stint for one of the covert agencies in D.C.” He leaned toward the man. “Just between you and me, private sector pays better.”

The policeman chuckled. “Maybe I'll hit you up for a job one day.”

“Yeah? And maybe I'll hire you,” Colby replied, grinning good-naturedly. “Listen, I asked that goon I shot about Vance's whereabouts. We've decided to let Vance go back to work and pretend we don't know how involved he is in the drug smuggling plot. We need to make sure he doesn't pass that information on to any of his colleagues.”

“The one you shot? Didn't you know?” the policeman asked.

“Know what?”

“The fool tried to take another patrolman's pistol while he was handcuffing him. They struggled and the pistol went off. The perp's dead.”

Colby whistled. “Solves my problem, but not in a way I'd prefer.”

“I know what you mean. Better take care of that arm,” he added, noting that the servos seemed to be moving without purpose and making a lot of noise.

“Yes, I had,” Colby said. “Thanks for the backup, by the way.”

“No problem. I like working with the local DEA boys. They never hog the credit when we go along on raids with them. See you.”

“Yeah.”

Colby made his way back to Hunter and laid his MP-5 alongside the other special weapons that Hunter had borrowed.

“Damn, Hunter, will you and your people stop lifting our stuff?” the SWAT sergeant muttered as he checked the weapons and unloaded them.

“As God is my witness,” Colby told the man, hand over his heart, “I have no idea how that weapon managed to get in my belt!”

Hunter dragged him away just in time.

When he was alone, Colby's mood darkened. He'd told Sarina that they shouldn't keep secrets from each other ever again, and she'd agreed. She'd been lying the whole time. How could she be so intimate with him and not trust him? It destroyed his faith in her.

But there was Bernadette, his daughter, his child. He couldn't turn his back on the little girl now, regardless of how he felt about her mother. He grimaced. What did he feel for her mother? He was confused.

Nevertheless, he drove straight for the hospital when he left the warehouse, despite the malfunctioning arm. Certainly the wound wasn't fatal, but he couldn't help worrying about Sarina. He couldn't leave Rodrigo to take care of her, either, despite his changed opinion of the man.

He found Sarina still in a cubicle in the emergency room. The doctor had ordered X-rays and she was waiting for the radiologist to read them.

“I told him it didn't hit the bone,” she was telling Rodrigo, “but he wouldn't listen.”

“You should have showed him your medical degree,” Rodrigo drawled.

She glared at him.

“What did the doctor say?” Colby asked, joining them, his face giving away nothing of his feelings.

“He's a resident,” she corrected curtly, holding her arm. “He said that I seem to have a gunshot wound.”

Colby couldn't suppress a grin.

“He's busy reporting it to the police,” she added.

His eyebrows went up. “Did you show him your ID?” he asked.

The glare got worse. “I didn't get the chance. He thinks I'm an escaped criminal, apparently. I couldn't bear to deprive him of his evening's entertainment!” she scoffed.

Rodrigo shrugged, as if to say,
you talk some sense into her.

Just as he started to, the resident, a solemn tall young man with fair hair and thick glasses walked back in with a police officer on his heels.

All at the same time, Rodrigo, Colby, and Sarina produced their badges for his inspection.

The police officer gave Colby's a long stare. He gave the resident a speaking look, apologized for inconveniencing a wounded agent, and left.

Just for spite, Colby allowed the resident a peek at his ID. It was the old one, of course, his “company” card.

The resident cleared his throat. “I am obliged by the hospital regulations to report all gunshot wounds to the police.”

Colby folded his wallet. “You can take my word for it that the young woman is not an escaped fugitive. However,” he added with narrowed eyes, “if her wound is not treated promptly, I will have a word with the administrator of this hospital.”

The resident got busy.

 

A
PRACTICING PHYSICIAN
came in to check the resident's diagnosis, and approved the treatment, but would not allow Sarina to go home.

He held up a hand when she began to argue. “We have plenty of empty beds, and better safe than sorry, especially when the bullet passed so close to the bone. If you do all right tomorrow, I'll allow you to leave first thing Monday morning.”

“Monday?” she exclaimed.

“See how it feels when people won't let you do what you want to do?” Colby asked.

She glared at him. “You had malaria! You had no business out of bed!”

“Tit for tat,” he retorted.

“He's right,” Rodrigo interrupted. “You don't need to be in the apartment alone, especially now. And Bernadette wouldn't know what to do if something happened.”

Sarina glared at him, too. “She's staying with the Hunters,” she said after a minute, when she realized that raging at the men wouldn't do any good. “I'll ask Jennifer if she can stay until Monday. They can drop her off at school with Nikki. But what do I tell her?”

“I'll go by there tomorrow,” Colby said quietly, “and tell her you had an emergency meeting out of town for Mr. Ritter.”

She hesitated. “All right.”

“I could take her to the zoo tomorrow,” Colby added.

Sarina's dark eyes flashed angrily. “You and your new lover?”

Rodrigo perked up, staring curiously at Colby's darkening cheeks.

Colby glared at her, ignoring the Mexican. His face hardened. Not for worlds was he going to admit the truth. Let her sweat. “As it happens, she's flying out in the morning,” he drawled. “I'll be all alone!”

“Pity,” she bit off. “You're good at keeping secrets, aren't you?”

“And you're a fine one to talk,” he shot back. “What the hell sort of mother risks her life for a job when she's got a child to raise?”

S
ARINA
'
S FACE
went white. She'd expected that question from the minute Colby saw her on the floor in the warehouse, but she still didn't know how to answer it. She didn't want to answer it. He'd given her hope that he cared, that he wanted a future with her. And then he hadn't phoned her, and she'd found him half naked with another woman. It was just like before, when he'd had Maureen in the background and pretended to be interested in Sarina. He'd betrayed her once. Why wouldn't he be willing to do it again? He was never going to be a faithful husband. She'd been living in a dream world of happy endings. Here was the reality.

She lifted her face belligerently. “I'm a good agent, and I very rarely walk into situations this dangerous. Rodrigo can tell you that.”

“I don't care what he tells me,” Colby replied before the other man could speak. “You took a bullet in the arm tonight. A few inches to the left, and you'd be dead!”

“I'm not,” she pointed out. She glared at him. “You have a job that's more dangerous than mine is,” she added. “Planning to give it up for Bernadette and take a nice safe desk job, are you?”

“This isn't about me.”

“You're her father,” she burst out.

“You're her mother,” he shot back. “Do you plan to raise her in between gun battles?”

“You shot a man!”

“You tried to shoot one!” he returned hotly.

Rodrigo stepped in between both of them. “She's wounded and you're malfunctioning,” he pointed out. “Both of you need some minor repairs. It wouldn't be a bad idea to postpone World War III until you're in better shape.”

Colby glowered at him. Then he shrugged and drew in a long breath. “I suppose it wouldn't be a bad idea, at that,” he had to admit. “I need to go home and find my spare arm.”

She held her arm. “I could use something for pain,” she confessed.

Rodrigo nodded. “That's more like it.”

Sarina glared at him. “You're on his side,” she accused.

He shrugged. “He saved my life. Temporarily,” he added with a wry glance at Colby, “I owe him.”

“You can save my life at your convenience and even things up,” Colby said agreeably.

“I still owe you for the other time,” Rodrigo said without thinking, remembering Africa. But he stopped short and looked uneasy.

“What other time?” Sarina asked curiously.

“There were two guys in the warehouse,” Colby said easily. “I've got to go. Don't let her assault the resident and escape,” he told Rodrigo.

“He isn't my type,” she said irritably. “I don't like fair men.”

“We noticed,” Rodrigo drawled.

Colby glared at him.

The resident came back before he could speak. He looked from the men to Sarina, who was giving him a cold stare. Her hand went to the butt of her .45.

“Now see here, I was only obeying the rules,” the resident said quickly.

She lifted the pistol out and handed it, slowly, to Rodrigo. “Keep it for me,” she told him.

He gave the resident a bland smile. “I wouldn't worry, she missed the last guy she shot at.”

Colby was feeling the effects of the night. He glanced at Sarina and tried not to let it show that he was still concerned. “You going to be all right?”

She nodded. “It's just…”

“…a flesh wound. Right.”

“Sure,” she said.

“We're sending you along to a room,” the resident told Sarina, with quick glances at the two men. “There are some papers to be filled out, but we'll send one of the office workers down to your room to take care of all that. Uh, if you're ready?” he added with a meaningful, but nervous glance at her two visitors.

“I have to go,” Rodrigo said. He touched Sarina's hand gently. “If you need me, I'm as close as the phone.”

“Thanks,” she said and smiled at him.

He left. Colby drew in a harsh breath. “I'll keep Bernadette in the dark. I'll come and pick you up Monday and take you home.”

“Rodrigo can do that,” she bit off.

“Certainly he can. But he's not going to,” he replied. “You can go with me to pick Bernadette up at school Monday afternoon, if you're feeling up to it.”

She wanted to argue, but her arm was hurting and she felt sick.

He nodded to the resident. “I'll go, so that you can get her settled.” He noticed her grimace as she moved off the examination table. “I know how that feels, by the way,” he told her, nodding toward her injured arm. “I've been shot several times over the years. Tomorrow, you'll be glad they didn't let you go home.”

“Quite right,” the resident agreed. “You'll be sick and in a good deal of pain, more than you're feeling now. I'll write up something for that as well.”

“Good night,” Colby told her.

She glared at him, but she was already wilting. It wasn't much of a glare. He turned away without comment. He had more reason than she did to be mad, but this wasn't the time for it.

He went out of the cubicle still feeling betrayed. He could have shown her the photograph of Tate and Cecily, but he was too angry. Let her think he had a woman on the side. He didn't care. She'd lied to him.

 

H
E WAS ON HIS WAY
home when a small, tragic face flashed before his eyes. It was Bernadette. She was crying, distraught. He couldn't get the picture out of his mind. It made no sense. It was almost midnight. She was asleep. He couldn't go to Hunter's house and wake everybody up…

Yes, he could. He did. The door opened and Hunter whistled softly.

“Thank God you're here, although I don't understand why.” He stood aside and Bernadette came running to Colby, wearing purple pajamas, her face wet with tears, her eyes red and swollen.

“Daddy!” she exclaimed, throwing herself into his arms. “Daddy, Mommy got shot, just like in my dream! Is she dead?”

Only then did Colby remember Bernadette's premonition, about her mother getting shot in a big place among a group of boxes. He'd promised her he'd take care of Sarina. But he hadn't known about her DEA work then. He drew Bernadette close and walked the floor with her, soothing her gently.

“It's all right, baby,” he whispered. “Mommy's fine. Mommy's just fine.”

“But she was bleeding,” Bernadette whimpered. “I saw!”

Colby's arms tightened even more. The damaged servo was loud in the room, but he didn't notice. He sat down on the sofa with Bernadette on his lap, and pulled out a handkerchief to dry her eyes.

“Listen,” he told her, “Mommy's very brave, so you have to be brave, too. They're going to keep her in the hospital until Monday. But I promise that she and I will pick you up at school Monday afternoon. I promise, Bernadette.”

She began to calm, just a little. She looked up into his eyes and saw no lies there. She slowed her breathing. “Okay, Daddy.”

The word, still rare, made him feel taller, stronger. He smiled at her, brushing back the damp hair from her big, brown eyes. Tears were still trickling from them, but slowing. “I'll never lie to you,” he said.

She nodded. “I was so scared.” She drew in a shaky breath. “Why do I have to see bad things?”

“I don't know, baby. But your grandfather did, too. He rode all the way to school on a horse one day I was in grammar school because he knew I'd had a bad fall. Nobody told him, he just knew. I'd broken my leg. He showed up just as the ambulance got there.”

She smiled. “He told me.”

The Hunters, all three of them, were standing beside the sofa, listening. Nikki was in her gown. The adults were wearing sweatpants and robes. Bernadette was in pajamas. Colby sighed. “I guess I'm overdressed,” he told Hunter. “I think I should either put on pajamas myself, or go home.”

Hunter was listening to the artificial arm. “I'd say the second idea was your best bet,” he agreed, noting the arm. “Did it miss everything vital?”

Colby nodded. “Just a badly placed shot,” he said lazily, smiling at Bernadette.

“I wouldn't say that,” Hunter chuckled.

Colby got up, placing Bernadette back on her feet. “Can she stay until Monday morning? I can take her to school,” he volunteered.

“No need,” Jennifer said with a smile as she cuddled up sleepily to Hunter. “She and Nikki can ride together.”

“Then Sarina and I will pick her up Monday afternoon at school. That reminds me,” he added, looking down at Bernadette. “Would you like to go to the zoo tomorrow?”

“Oh, yes!” she exclaimed. “Can Nikki come, too?”

“Sure,” Colby agreed, smiling.

“In that case, we'll all go,” Hunter said, “and make a day of it. I like zoos myself.”

“That's because you've spent so much time around animals,” Colby murmured, tongue-in-cheek.

“Present company excepted?” Hunter chuckled.

“Well, sort of.” Colby held his left arm. “I'd better get my gizmo home before it self-destructs,” he added. “What time tomorrow?”

“About twelve-thirty?”

“That works for me. I can sleep late. I'm still a little rocky from the malaria,” Colby had to admit, “and tonight wasn't exactly a picnic.” He bent and picked Bernadette up with his right arm and hugged her close. It was getting to feel very natural, hugging the child. He smiled as he kissed her wet cheek. “Go to bed now, okay?”

“Okay. Night, Daddy.”

“Good night, baby.”

 

T
HE ZOO WAS A TREAT
for Colby, who hadn't been to one since he was small, and that one had been more of an exotic animal farm than a zoo. This one had very elegant outdoor confinements for the animals, so that they didn't seem to be caged at all. He especially liked the reptile exhibit. Bernadette didn't seem to mind it at all. She held Colby's hand proudly, smiling at other children she met as if to put him on display. He felt her pride in him, and was humbled by it.

They ate hot dogs and walked until his legs ached. Then they went to the park, where the cold didn't seem to deter swinging, and he and the Hunters rested on benches while Nikki and Bernadette ran to the swings. It was a good day, he reflected. Being a parent was nothing like his expectations of years ago. It was better.

Jennifer Hunter phoned the hospital later, since Colby had refused to, without stating any reason for it. She talked to Sarina. Rodrigo had been to see her, but she was feeling vaguely deserted, especially by Colby.

“We went to the zoo,” Jennifer told her. “You should have seen Bernadette at the reptile house. She's fearless, just like Colby. The keeper actually let her hold an albino python, and she wasn't the least afraid.”

“She likes snakes,” Sarina said, smiling to herself. She shifted in the bed and winced, because the arm was really sore and she had some fever and nausea as well. “Did Colby…say anything about me?”

“No,” Jennifer replied. “I think he's still in shock. Phillip said he had no idea what you really did for a living. He's taking it hard.”

“He might as well get used to it,” Sarina said angrily. “I'm not giving up my job!”

“Both of you are going to have to make some major adjustments one day,” the other woman said gently. “A child needs two parents. I don't have to tell you that.”

There was a brief silence. “No, you don't. I suppose I'm still upset.”

“About the shootout?” Jennifer asked.

No, about the almost nude blonde in Colby's apartment, but Sarina wasn't comfortable sharing that with Jennifer. “Yes,” she lied, “about the shootout. I'm having some fever and pain today. I suppose they were right about making me stay here.”

“I'm sorry you missed the zoo, all the same,” Jennifer chuckled. “Bernadette was having the time of her life.”

“I'm glad. I've spent so much time working the past few years that she hasn't had as much fun as I'd have liked.”

“Now that Colby's around, he'll take her from time to time,” Jennifer suggested. “Nikki loves going places with her daddy, and showing him off.”

“Phillip's a good father.”

“Colby's going to be a good one, too.”

There was a pause. “I don't suppose you know that Colby came by in the wee hours of the morning?”

“What? Why?”

“He said he saw Bernadette crying. A vision, Phillip calls it. When he got here, we were all in the living room trying to convince her that everything was all right. Colby told her just a little of what happened, but he reassured her. She was smiling when he left.”

Sarina was silent. Then she sighed. “I thought he might have that emotional link with her that his father had with him,” she said softly. “Bernadette had a premonition about him getting shot in Africa, you know. They had an encounter the day they met because she told him all about it.”