She smiled like a schoolgirl who had the rapt attention of her favorite teacher. “If she closes the club, the only place you can get her is at her loft, or at the art gallery on Sunday. She won’t cancel it. It’s her first showing.”
“If she’ll close her business, she’ll cancel the art show.”
Sara shook her head. “I don’t think so. You don’t know how important this is. It’s in all the papers. And what if she thought you’d left town?”
Something clicked. Theodore leaned forward. “I’m all ears.”
Sara smiled, bit her lower lip. “This is my idea. Friday night we drive to Mexico…”
Theodore listened. And for the first time was impressed with the intellect of another human being.
He leaned over and kissed her. Spontaneously-an odd gesture for him.
Her plan just might work.
In fact, it was brilliant.
What a shame he would have to kill the person who came up with it.
“Can you drop me off at the hospice?” Carina asked Will. “Nick is there, he’ll take me home.”
Will hit the steering wheel. “It’s Patrick’s birthday.”
“You remembered.” Her smile was strained.
Will glanced at the clock. “Barely. It’s ten minutes to midnight.”
If Patrick were fully here, he’d have been part of their team. He would have used his extensive skills and easygoing manner to manage their overall security and track Glenn’s financial potential. Patrick didn’t need a committee, his mind was wired differently. He saw connections where few people saw them.
But it wasn’t just his value as a cybercop, it was Patrick’s good nature that Will missed most of all. They’d been friends, and Patrick was one of the few people Will talked to about stuff. They’d kick back, drink a few beers, shoot the breeze. Patrick had been his best friend. Will missed him.
Patrick’s life was in limbo-it had been eight months since an explosion put him in a coma-Carina was getting married, Dillon had moved to Washington…everything was changing, growing, dying, and he was just walking around doing a job.
The job certainly couldn’t keep him warm at night.
Will pulled up in front of the hospice. “I was thinking earlier that we could use Patrick about now.”
“Well, think hard on that. Maybe it’ll bring him out of never-never land.” Carina gave Will a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks. You’re not just a great partner, but a good friend.” She started to get out of the car, then paused.
“You love her.”
He didn’t have to ask who Carina was talking about. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It certainly does.”
“All that matters is that she’s safe. I said things-” he shook his head. “I was wrong.”
“Tell her.”
He laughed bitterly. “You think I haven’t tried? I’ve apologized so many times I sound like a broken record. I said I was sorry then, I said it now. Being sorry isn’t enough. I hurt her. Deeply, irrevocably hurt her.”
“Will, we’ve known each other for more than a decade. You’ve never intentionally hurt someone. You’re one of the most compassionate men I’ve ever met. I’ve teased you about your women, but the truth is, you never hurt them.”
“My track record sucks. I never-I just didn’t want to put my wife second. I couldn’t put any of them in that position again, not after Wendy.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way.”
“It was with my father.”
“You’re not your father.”
“How do I convince her to forgive me?”
“You can’t,” Carina said. “But honesty usually works.”
“I’ve been honest.”
“Have you?” Carina took his hand. “If there’s one thing that Patrick’s coma should have taught you is that life is too unpredictable to not fight for what you want. If you love her, Will, fight for her.”
He didn’t say anything. Carina was more right than he wanted to admit.
He closed his eyes and saw the dead bird again on Julia’s kitchen table. Heard Glenn’s courthouse threats. Thought about what Hans Vigo said, that Glenn would take Robin out even if it meant getting himself killed.
If Robin died, he’d never forgive himself for not at least trying to make it work. He’d never put her out of his mind. Robin had been in his thoughts-or his dreams-every night for the last seven years.
“Tell Patrick to get back to work. It’s an order,” Will said.
She smiled thinly. “Yes, sir.”
Will watched Carina walk into the hospice, the night guard letting her in. It was after hours, but being a cop opened many doors.
He started for his house. He wanted to go to Robin. He wanted to see her, talk to her, touch her.
Tell her one more time that he was sorry.
He pictured Patrick in his coma. Life was too short, too unpredictable…he hung a U-turn at the same time his cell phone vibrated.
Damn. He was off-duty, unless it was related to Glenn.
“Hooper.”
“Detective Hooper, Sergeant Fields here. There’s a 911 call at 101 Fifth Avenue, number 301.”
Will’s heart quickened.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know, exactly, but Robin McKenna-who’s on your Glenn list-called it in. Then hung up. We tried calling back, but no one answered.”
“I’m on my way.” Will hung up and dialed Mario Medina’s cell. “What happened?”
“What do you mean, what happened?”
“Robin just called 911! Where the hell are you?”
“Standing right outside her door. I’ll call you back.”
Why didn’t Robin pick up the damn phone? Oh, God, what if Glenn got to her? What if he was there right now? What if the Descario prank-the allusion in the letter that he was going to go after the former D.A.-was a diversion?
“If you touch her, I’ll kill you,” Will said under his breath.
He screeched up to Robin’s building at the same time as two patrols.
Then Mario called that she was alive.
TWENTY-THREE
When Will burst through the door, Robin had never been so relieved to see anyone. She found herself rushing to him, then she hesitated at the last minute.
What was she doing?
Will grabbed her by the arms and pulled her the final two feet. Held her so tightly that she would have protested except that he was shaking. She breathed in his all-male scent, held on to him as if she were drowning. She never wanted to let him go. She never wanted him to let her go.
“You’re okay. You’re okay,” Will whispered in her ear. She tried to speak, but couldn’t.
Will gently pushed her back. In his eyes was fear. Fear, concern, and something more. Something that had been there seven years ago, something she’d ignored when she walked away. Because he’d hurt her and she didn’t want to see anything else.
But he was back.
“Sit down,” he said, escorting her to the couch. “Are you okay?”
She nodded.
