Over the Line Read online

  Gabriella leaned against the railing. The muscles in her legs quivered. “Maybe. But it’s all we’ve got at this point. It’s got to be a lead. The more time that passes, the more I’m sure—”

  His knuckles were white on the railing. “I know.”

  “If Jake was bringing in the guy, he didn’t do it alone. The ATF doesn’t work that way.”

  He let go of the railing and propped himself up on his forearms, his head down. “Have you ever met your brother’s partner?”

  Gabriella wracked her brain. “Teeter? I don’t think so. I’ve heard his name, that’s it. It turns out there’s so much about my own brother that I don’t know. We used to be so close. How did that happen?”

  “Did it ever occur to you that we’re a lot alike in some ways? After your parents divorced, you got quieter. More self-contained. Paolo died. Natalie ended up in a wheelchair. You got quieter still.” Eli took a breath. He’d just strung together more sentences than she’d ever heard him complete on a subject not related to his work. “Then you broke up with me. Maybe Jake didn’t want to add salt to your wounds with his happy news.”

  “That’s ludicrous.” Gabriella paused. Not really. And the carefully chosen words signified Eli had given her emotional state over the years considerable thought. “But thank you for trying.”

  “I have my own experience with siblings.”

  Eli rarely talked about the fabulous four as he called his older siblings. Most of what she knew had come from his mother, Virginia, or Christmas cards sent from faraway places. His oldest brother was career Air Force. Another served as a missionary in Africa. One held a post as a physician with the World Health Organization. His lone sister taught school in inner-city Dallas.

  Only Eli lived close to home and aging parents who always seemed to be trying to hide their disappointment at his choices. The child with the most unresolved issues would be the one who would care for those parents in their old age.

  None of that could be solved tonight. “Larry Teeter might know more about my brother than I do.”

  He faced her again. This time, his hand really did touch her face. A deliberate gesture. One finger traced her jawline. She froze. Her skin burned white hot. He brushed her bangs back from her eyes. “Only about what was going on recently. Jake’s still your little brother. When we find him, you can chew him out about not keeping in touch. And things will be different.”

  The question implicit in the words hung in the air between them. Despite a split second of hesitation, she edged away from his touch. “Good night, Eli.”

  His hand dropped. His gaze enveloped her. “Do you ever wonder why you’re thirty-four and I’m the closest you’ve ever come to getting married?”

  She edged toward the door. “Apparently, I had good reason to be hesitant.”

  “Your parents aren’t a good example of how marriage works.”

  “Examples don’t matter. Your parents have been married sixty years and you still—”

  “We’ll do it better.”

  “Who is she to you?”

  He shook his head.

  Gabriella grabbed the door handle and slipped inside her room. “As always, it was good talking to you, Eli.”

  He remained at the railing, his back to her. “Tomorrow will be a long day. Get some sleep.”

  Fat chance of that now.

  She closed the door and double locked it. Was she locking herself in or Eli out? The question ran laps in her head long after she slipped under the sheets and closed her eyes.

  Chapter 16

  The whole “Are we there yet?” thing wasn’t a joke. Kids really did ask that question over and over again on road trips. Cullen and Ava had taken turns interspersing that question with two dozen other ones. Was that a cow by the side of the road? Did cows drink milk? How did airplanes fly? Where was Aunt Gabriella? Would Uncle Jake be in Laredo? Did Deacon’s uncle have dogs? Cats? A playscape? Natalie answered every question with a patience that seemed to come from an unending well.

  Finally, they finished their third snack of animal crackers and apple juice and nodded off. The hiss of air streaming from the AC combined with the steady beat of the wind against the Toyota Sienna soothed Deacon’s frazzled nerves. He could almost fall asleep now that he had accepted that Natalie could, in fact, drive with the help of a computerized system that allowed her to do everything with her hands.

  Her presence, on the other hand, kept him awake. In the enclosed space she smelled wonderful—like roses. And she was good at small talk, good at drawing him out. She didn’t seem to mind the steady stream of 18-wheelers that passed the van like it was standing still. The way their speed and bulk made the van sway in their wake. She didn’t even mind when the only radio stations left were in Spanish or played country music.

  “Stop looking at me like that.”

  “What? I’m not looking at you.” Deacon forced his gaze back to the passenger-side window. Nothing but darkness. It didn’t matter. He’d made this drowsiness-inducing trip down 1-35 South hundreds of times. Just a bunch of mesquite and prickly pear cacti dotted the scenery with an occasional ranch gate that led to an unseen sprawling ranch house. “Why would I look at you? I’ve seen a woman drive before. It isn’t pretty.”

  “You flinch every time a semi passes us.”

  “I do not.”

  “I’m a good driver. Maybe even a better one than I was before the accident.” She patted the controls that allowed her to drive with her hands. “This baby has all the bells and whistles. It’s an AEVIT system.”

  “I know. You told me. You’re doing great.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad you approve.” Her tone was dry. “Gabriella sounded exhausted.”

  “And determined, as usual. She might be a chef now, but she’s still tough as any prosecutor I’ve ever known.”

  “You knew her when she still practiced?”

  “I covered a couple of her cases right after I started at the Express-News, right before she quit and opened the restaurant. She had cross-examination down to an art form, and her opening and closing arguments were perfection. Students should study them in law school classes.”

  “You stayed in touch because her ability to argue impressed you?”

  Over the years, they’d parried over her cooking on numerous occasions. She had a sharp, analytical mind and she was well informed about world issues and politics. “And I liked her tiramisu.”

  “You liked her.”

  “Like I said before, not like that.”

  Natalie’s gaze meandered his way. She sought something. He gave her his best you-can-trust-me look. Which probably made him look more like SpongeBob SquarePants. She focused on the road. “You’re sure your aunt and uncle won’t mind a dog?”

  “Aunt Piper says Cleo, their cat, will love the company.” A little white lie. Aunt Piper was being nice. She was like that. “Cleo is short for Cleopatra, Queen of the Cats.”

  “How long did you live with Piper and George?”

  “About ten years.”

  “A long time.” The compassion in her face made her that much more beautiful. “And your parents? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

  “They died in a small plane crash when I was eight.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  Silence for sixty seconds filled with Artemis’s snuffling snores mingled with Ava’s more ladylike little-girl snores. “I know how it feels to lose people suddenly and tragically. Your life is divided into before and after.”

  “I was blessed to have family who took me in and loved me.” His early memories were filled with swimming lessons and T-ball and birthday parties, but the later ones were just as good. George and Piper Seville had stepped in with hugs and kisses and the same firm discipline as his parents. “They raised me like their own. They never missed a beat.”

  “Very blessed.”

  Deacon glanced over his shoulder. Cullen and Ava both slum
bered, their heads back against booster seats. He settled back in his seat. “It must be hard for the kiddos. Losing their dad, moving into their aunt’s house. Adjusting to you . . . your . . .”

  “The biggest challenges aren’t the ones you expect.” She rescued him. “Like my bedroom being downstairs and theirs upstairs. They take their baths and then come cuddle with me downstairs. We read stories and then they go upstairs and put themselves to bed.”

  Not having kids of his own had Deacon at a disadvantage. “Kids don’t usually do that?”

  “I don’t tuck them in.” Her voice quivered ever so slightly. “I miss that. Gabriella and I talked about buying another house, one more suited to our situation, but we love this house and it’s familiar to the kids. They’re fine with it. Kids mature faster in these circumstances, faster than you want them to . . .”

  Silence prevailed for a few miles.

  “Paolo was larger than life. Funny. Sarcastic. Passionate about being a surgeon. Passionate about everything.” She spoke as if there had been no pause. Her left hand touched the lever mounted on the car door. It allowed her to accelerate and brake. Her right hand fingered the mini steering wheel mounted in front of the console. “At least that’s the way I remember him now.”

  “Now?”

  “Some people talk about memories fading. For me, it’s not like that. I think sometimes that my memories get shinier with age, more sparkly with time. Paolo’s picture is clearer in my mind than the photos on the fireplace mantel. He was seven feet tall, pure brawn. Antonio Banderas gorgeous.” She chuckled. “When really he was five eleven in his boots, cute in a sort of nerdy way—”

  “Us guys really like being called short and nerdy.”

  “But he was so charismatic. Romantic. He loved the big flourish and the small touches. I never knew what would be next. A week in Hawaii or a single rose on my pillow.”

  Hard shoes to fill. “You miss him.”

  “I have a full life. My practice. The kids. Trying to keep Gabby in line.”

  “That would be a full-time job. Especially with Eli in and out of the picture.”

  “Eli’s Eli. He has a good heart. At least I thought he did until he did what he did.” Silence filled the van with white noise from the radio. “I never thought he would do something like that.”

  “It boggles the mind why anyone would do that to your sister.”

  “No woman deserves it.”

  “Gabriella doesn’t talk about it.”

  “Of course not. It reminds her too much of what happened with my parents. She still hasn’t forgiven them for being human. For having their own lives. My dad is of French-Creole descent. We have pirates in our family tree. He loves the ocean and sailing and the French Quarter. His idea of fun is a crawfish boil, a Cajun band, and an occasional icy-cold beer.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  “My mom is your stereotypical British subject.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yeah. A severe case of opposites attract.”

  “Until they don’t.”

  “Exactly. Their split was awful and bloody and full of histrionics—on my dad’s side. My mom slipped away all prim and proper, but I know she tried. She tried so hard. She was tired and homesick. She never really liked South Texas with its mesquite and heat and droughts. She couldn’t do it anymore.” Natalie sighed. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. I haven’t talked about it in a few years. Gabby refuses to engage in any rehashes. I miss my mom and dad, but I don’t begrudge them their lives now. Life is short and hard.”

  “The divorce doesn’t bother you?”

  “Of course it does. I prayed that they would get back together. Then I left the struggle at God’s feet. It’s not something I can control. He’ll take it from there.”

  The lights of Laredo twinkled in the distance. Deacon had seen them hundreds of times over the years. Tonight, with a sensitive, intelligent woman at the wheel, they looked different. Brighter. Beckoning. “You’ve been through so much. Yet you still believe and trust.”

  No response for several miles. She glanced his way. “After the accident, I considered all the possible ways for a paraplegic to kill herself.”

  Deacon breathed a prayer of thanksgiving that she hadn’t chosen that way out. “Why didn’t you?”

  “Ava and Cullen. Gabby. Jake. My parents. I had many reasons to live. Only selfish reasons for choosing not to. It took time, but counting my blessings over and over again allowed me to start to believe that living was better than dying.”

  “I’m glad you decided to live.”

  She didn’t look his way again, but she did smile. “Me too. Every day is living proof that God is working for my good. The first thing I did after rehab was learn to drive and buy this vehicle. I loved taking road trips before. I love taking them now.”

  “I wish it were under better circumstances.” He groped for words that didn’t sound like a corny come-on. “I always liked the beach.”

  “Me too.”

  Quiet filled with promise lasted until the next exit.

  “This is our exit. Take a left onto Del Mar Boulevard.”

  She followed his directions, but she kept glancing in the rearview mirror. “You’ll think I’m paranoid.”

  He perused his side mirror. Headlights behind them. Not unusual. “If anyone has the right to be paranoid, we do.”

  “There’s a pickup truck behind us. It passed us a while back. Then slowed down. So I passed it.” Her tone was dispassionate. Like a doctor’s recounting of symptoms before delivering an unwelcome diagnosis. “It’s been hanging back behind us since then.”

  “For how long?”

  “I don’t know. I first noticed it around Dilley. Then I didn’t see it again for a while. Then it was back.”

  Eighty miles and some change. “Probably nothing.”

  “Probably.”

  What were the odds? The thugs after Gabriella were smart. Follow sister number one to find sister number two. Had they led these monsters right to Gabriella? To the place he’d promised them would be a safe house? “You know what? Let’s take a right up here on McPherson Road.”

  “Is that the way to your house?”

  “No, but I feel like a cruise down memory lane in my old hometown. I haven’t been here in ages.”

  “Right.” She snorted. “You won’t see much in the dark.”

  “Yeah. I said right on McPherson.”

  She followed his instructions. A surprising amount of traffic hummed on the streets of Laredo, considering the hour. “Okay, now turn left here at Calton Road.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Just cruising, like I said.” He swiveled in his seat and stared through the back windows. It was tough to see anything but headlights blinding him. He faced front and tried to relax against the leather seat. “Is the truck still there?”

  She glanced in the rearview mirror and her side mirror. “When I stopped at the stop sign back there, I could still see it. Are you planning to spirit us away on an airplane? I see airport signs.”

  “No, although it doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” His stomach clenched. Too many cups of coffee and not enough food in the last twelve hours. Adrenaline pulsed through him. “Right on Maher Road.” He glanced back again. “Do you see the truck?”

  “I think so, but they’re backing off.”

  “I bet they are.”

  “Ah-ha.”

  “What?”

  Natalie shook her finger at him. “I also see signs for the Laredo Police Department Headquarters.”

  “Yep. It’ll be on our right in a few blocks. I used to go there all the time to pick up copies of reports and interview officers. Like I said, memory lane.”

  “Nice view of the airport.” She eased the van into the parking lot and pulled into a van-accessible space. “Nice building.”

  A few smaller airplanes were parked on the tarmac across the road. “Fairly new. A lot of the city offices have transitioned to
this area from downtown.”

  “You could be a tour guide.”

  His chuckle sounded weak in his ears. An older model Ram or Toyota Tundra rolled past the entrance to the parking lot and kept going south on Maher Road.

  “You’re a very smart guy.” Natalie turned off the van. Silence prevailed. She sighed, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes. “Are we going in?”

  “We could get a police escort to my uncle’s.”

  “Because that would be flying under the radar.”

  “I know. It was just a thought.”

  “Are we spending the night here?”

  “I don’t think the police would take kindly to us camping out in their parking lot.” As much as he wouldn’t mind spending the night this close to a beautiful woman with her two children and a snoring bulldog as chaperones. “Let’s give it a few minutes and we’ll reverse our steps.”

  “Are we there yet?”

  Deacon jumped and turned. Cullen yawned and stretched. “Are we there yet? I want milk. I need to brush my teeth. Is Aunt Gabby here? What time is it?”

  Natalie laughed. Deacon joined her. The hysterical laughter of two people on the run.

  Chapter 17

  People who live in subdivisions with gates fool themselves. Gates only keep honest people out. Eli kept that thought to himself as he pulled through the gates into the neighborhood where Deacon Alder’s aunt and uncle lived in one of the older subdivisions on Laredo’s north side. Decidedly elegant in an upper-middle-class way. The streets were lined with palm trees—not native to this part of Texas—and the houses were mostly two-story white adobe with red tile roofs. A long way from his parents’ simple wood home on the south side with its wraparound porch and tiny front yard full of esperanza, Pride of Barbados, and lantana in purple, red, and pink.

  Gabby had been silent and distant during the short ride from the hotel. If she slept anything like he did, they both should’ve forgone the cost of two hotel rooms and spent the night watching movies on pay-per-view. One prickly look from her and he’d dropped any attempt at conversation. Three cups of coffee, and his eyes were still gritty and his mouth dry.