Gone Too Far (Devlin & Falco), page 33
Hatred whipped through Sadie, mixing with the fury, forming a bitterness that stole her breath. “I guess you did that for me too.”
He shook his head. “No. I did that for me. Pauley was taking my daughter away from me.”
Sadie turned away, grabbed the doorknob.
“You have my word, Sadie; I’ve made right my biggest mistake.”
She didn’t want to hear any more.
“I only asked for one thing, and it wasn’t for me. I suppose perhaps that constitutes a deal, but it was something I needed to do.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” she demanded.
“Just know that I’ve taken care of the mistake I regret the most. The bargain I negotiated before—I allowed them to keep something I shouldn’t have. But I’ve made it right now. You’ll see. I love you, Sadie.”
She yanked the door open and walked out.
Maybe a good daughter would have said she loved him back. But she wasn’t a good daughter, and he damned sure wasn’t a good father.
49
5:40 p.m.
Birmingham Police Department
First Avenue North
Sadie walked across the bullpen. One of the detectives she’d met in the stairwell had told her which cubicle belonged to Devlin and Falco. She spotted Falco as she moved in that direction.
She wasn’t sure what she was doing here. Her first thought after the meeting with her father was to go home and get shit faced—but that was the old her. She was free now. Maybe she didn’t have every single piece of her past intact. Some parts she might never know, she supposed. But today had explained a lot. The past that had haunted her so darkly was out in the light now.
For example, why she was able to escape the cartel. Why she was even alive. Why her father had stopped looking at her the way he had before her mom died. His mounting guilt had put distance between them. His inability to control his daughter had kept him worried.
She couldn’t forgive him for all the terrible things he’d done. He’d killed at least two of the most important people in her life.
Whatever had been left of their relationship was gone now.
No big loss. He’d been preparing her for this complete break for most of her adult life. She understood that now. Maybe he’d known all along he couldn’t do the father thing without his wife to keep him on the straight and narrow.
“Hey,” Falco said when he saw her coming. “How’d your meeting go?”
Devlin was pulling on her jacket. “You okay?”
Sadie still wasn’t sure how down she was with this friendship thing. Barton and Snipes and Heck—they didn’t ask her personal stuff like this. Very possibly they were afraid to do so.
She shrugged. “It went. There was a lot of spilling of guts. Mostly his.”
Devlin said, “The LT told us he confessed to the hits on both Asher and Leland Walsh as well as Kurtz.”
Sadie nodded. “Pauley Winters too.”
Falco made a face. “No shit?”
“No shit. Who knows if there were others. He’s giving a tell-all to the good guys and passing on any bargains.”
“I’m surprised his attorney hasn’t talked him out of that route,” Devlin said.
“Maybe he’s lost it. I don’t know. Whatever happens next, he and I are done.”
“Understandable.” Falco shrugged into his leather jacket. “There are some things that can’t be fixed.”
Enough about her and her bullshit. “How’d the raid on the warehouse go?”
“The DEA is seriously jealous,” Devlin said, a grin tugging at her lips. “This was a big one. Evidently, several huge shipments had just come in. The COO, Elizabeth Grant, is doing some spilling as well.”
“Word is after the deal Warren cut,” Falco said, “Carlos Osorio was taken into custody. The compound has been overrun by locals. A couple of other cartels are running scared. Apparently, our esteemed mayor has the goods on a lot of folks south of the border.”
“Lana Walsh is taking her son’s ashes back to Boston,” Devlin tossed in. “Rumor is she requested her husband’s body be donated to science. And two major cases are closed.”
“And we are going to Devlin’s,” Falco said, “to celebrate with Tori. I’m making dinner.”
“You should join us,” Devlin offered.
Before Sadie could respond, Falco added, “We make a good team. The three of us.” He shrugged. “Just saying.”
“I guess we do,” Sadie admitted. She looked to Devlin. “I appreciate the invitation, but I have some loose ends to take care of at my place. We’ll grab lunch or something next week.”
Devlin gave her a nod. “For sure.”
Falco gave her a fist bump, and Sadie headed out. As weird as this was, it felt good. Maybe she should do some celebrating of her own sans the alcohol, even the beer.
Sadie’s Loft
Sixth Avenue, Twenty-Seventh Street
Birmingham, 6:40 p.m.
Sadie was fairly sure that beyond the morning she woke up under the overpass on Eighteenth, she had never felt so exhausted in her life. She could sleep forever.
As she neared the turn into her alley, she spotted a big black SUV parked at the curb. Her instincts went on alert, no matter that this could be a patron of the pub. Still, in her line of work and with her history, it was better to be cautious. She parked in her usual spot and got out of the piss-yellow Beetle. She hoped to hell she had her Saab back soon. Before closing the door, she reached under the seat and grabbed her Beretta and tucked it into her jeans at the small of her back. She locked up the borrowed car and walked around it.
When she would have started up the fire escape, the driver’s-side door of the SUV opened, and a man climbed out. Big guy. Broad shouldered, dark jacket and trousers. Sunglasses even at night. Typical muscle guy.
Well hell. Maybe old man Osorio had managed one last order before his capture. She reached for the weapon at her back. The big guy held up a hand.
“There is someone who wishes to speak with you.”
Couldn’t be her dad or the mayor. Naomi was dead. Maybe Lana Walsh had decided to stop by on her way to the airport.
The big guy opened the door behind the driver’s door and reached inside.
Sadie kept her right hand on the butt of her weapon just in case.
The first thing she saw was a colorful skirt that reached the ankles of the woman stepping down. Her shoes were gray-leather, well-worn flats.
When she moved beyond the vehicle door, her gaze locked immediately on Sadie.
Old.
Petite—no, tiny.
Long gray hair lay in a thick braid. Wrinkled face as if she were a couple hundred years old.
“Do you remember me, la muchacha?”
Sadie blinked. Her hands fell to her sides. “Yes.” Her pulse started to race. “You’re the healer who took care of me.” Oh shit. Was she hallucinating again? This couldn’t be real . . . could it?
The old woman nodded. “I kept you safe and invisible until it was time for you to go.”
Take my hand and you’ll be invisible.
It hadn’t been Isabella behind the mask that last time. Sadie had lost the baby, and all she wanted to do was die . . . this woman had saved her life. Even during the months of torture and mind games, this woman, this healer, kept her breathing. She suddenly knew this with the same certainty she knew her own name.
“Thank you.” Sadie wasn’t sure what else to say. Her entire being hummed with some kind of anticipation. Not fear. Something far more intense. Something she couldn’t name.
“When they learned what you had done, you were to die. Eduardo had begged for your life and for the life of the child you carried. He came to tell you he could not save you, and you killed him.” Her thin chest rose with a shuddering breath. “A deal was made. A trade. You were returned to your father, barely alive, but alive.”
The voices and images Sadie could never quite grab on to, never fully see or understand, filtered through her mind now. Her father had talked about a trade. “I can’t remember. What kind of trade?”
She nodded to the driver, and he reached inside the back seat as the old woman turned back to Sadie. “Now there is a new deal.”
Sadie watched, her heart pounding, threatening to rupture.
The driver drew back from the vehicle, a small child in his arms. He stood the child next to the old woman. Boy. The child was a boy. The boy looked up at Sadie. Gray eyes—gray eyes exactly like hers—stared back at her. This wasn’t possible.
Her heart lurched. “But . . . but my baby didn’t make it.”
“Another baby was brought to you . . . one from the village who did not live past birth.”
Unable to keep her eyes off the child she had believed for years didn’t exist, Sadie shook her head. “Why?”
“You took her son, and she took yours.” The old woman pulled something from a pocket in her skirt and thrust it at Sadie. It was a small photo of her and Eddie. “I did what I could. I have shown him this picture every day of his life. I have kept him safe from his sister and other threats until this day came. I knew it would come.”
Sadie looked from the child to the woman, long-dormant emotions crowding inside her. “I don’t know what to say.”
The healer smiled and turned to the boy. “Esta es tu madre.”
Sadie’s breath caught. She closed her eyes a moment, certain this had to be a hallucination.
“This is your son,” she said to Sadie.
Sadie forced her eyes open. They were still there, the three of them, including the beautiful boy. It wasn’t another hallucination.
“His name is Edward. He belongs with you now.”
Sadie couldn’t speak, much less move. She could only stare at this child with his beautiful dark hair, his big gray eyes.
The driver went to the back of the SUV and removed two suitcases and placed them on the sidewalk next to the boy.
“You will find his papers there,” the old woman said. She looked down at the boy. “Go to your madre, Edward.”
The boy took the few steps that separated him from Sadie. He looked up at her and smiled.
Sadie dropped to her knees, every part of her bursting with some foreign emotion that overwhelmed all else. “Nice to meet you, Edward.”
He nodded and offered his hand.
Sadie took his hand in hers and gave it a shake. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Take good care of him.”
Sadie looked beyond the boy to the old woman. “I’ll do my best.”
The healer gave a final nod, and the driver assisted her back into the vehicle. He slid behind the wheel and drove away.
Sadie stared down at this child. Her child. Her son.
I allowed them to keep something I shouldn’t have. But I’ve made it right now.
Her father had traded whatever deal the feds might have offered him for her son—the son no one else knew existed . . . the one she thought had died.
More of those overpowering sensations fired through her. Her chest felt so full she could scarcely breathe. Whatever she was feeling, she understood that when the shock wore off, it would evolve into sheer terror.
What did she know about kids? She had no idea what to feed him or . . . anything. She couldn’t possibly be a good mother.
Sadie dragged in a deep breath and reached for his hand. “Let’s take your things and go inside. Then we’ll go meet some friends of mine.”
Devlin was a good mom. She would know what to do.
50
8:15 p.m.
Devlin Residence
Twenty-First Avenue South
Birmingham
Kerri watched Falco and Tori going at it with whatever video game they were playing. Put a game controller in his hand, and Falco turned into a big kid.
He’d made the most amazing rice and orange chicken for dinner. They’d devoured the meal as if they were starving. And maybe they were, a little. More for the unfettered companionship than the food. The past week had been hell, but it was over now.
Kerri was taking a couple of weeks off. She and Tori were going on another vacation. This time Falco was going with them. Warmth and a kind of happiness that made her feel giddy spread through Kerri at the thought. She didn’t know where this relationship between her and Falco was going, but she was ready to take the risk and explore it.
She had called Diana and Jen and given them the good news that the nightmare was finally over. She’d also shared her little secret about Falco going on vacation with her and Tori. Kerri had never heard such uninhibited squealing.
Eventually, she and Falco would figure this all out, and life would get back to normal.
Whatever normal was for a couple of detectives who spent most of their time investigating homicides.
The doorbell rang, and Kerri wandered to the door. She peeked around the blind, and Cross gave her an odd little wave.
“Looks like Cross decided to join us,” Kerri called out to the others as she unlocked the door.
“Better late than never!” Falco tossed back.
Kerri pulled the door open, and Cross had the strangest look on her face. Kerri blinked, realizing she hadn’t come alone.
A child—a little boy, maybe three or four—stood next to her. “Hey,” Kerri said to the child before her questioning gaze shot back to the other woman’s.
“This is my son, Edward.” Unadulterated terror shone in her eyes. “I’ll explain later.” Cross took a big breath and pasted on a wide smile. “I’m determined to do this right—I have to—but I have no idea where to start. I was hoping you could help.”
Her son? But her baby . . . wow. Kerri reminded herself to breathe. This was incredible. She smiled, grateful for one more good thing to have come of these tragedies. “Come on in. I think we can figure this out.”
She ushered Sadie and her son inside and made the introductions. Falco did a good job of recovering quickly from his own shock. Tori immediately got down on her knees and started talking to the little boy, who spoke perfect English.
They solved complicated, high-profile homicides every day. She and Falco could certainly handle whipping Cross into a good mommy in no time.
“Come on,” Kerri said to Cross, “we have a lot to talk about.”
Maybe that vacation would have to wait a bit.
Sadie Cross was pretty much family now.
And family came first.
Always.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
There are many amazing authors out there who write incredible series. I have too many favorites to name. When I first started writing with the hope of publication, I created a cast of characters I wanted to expand into a series. Thankfully, that dream saw fruition, and I went on to write many multibook series. I always fall in love with my characters—it’s my weakness—and I like keeping them around for a while. They become a part of my life.
But it’s really you, the reader, who allows me that privilege. Thank you so very much for buying and reading my books. You have given me the opportunity to live the dream of a lifetime. I was nine when I wrote my first story, and from that moment I knew—no matter what else happened in my life—I would continue writing stories, if only for my own entertainment. I am so very grateful that I can write my stories for you. I hope you enjoy this one as well as all the ones to come. I plan to write many, many more.
Oh, and please do leave a review at Amazon. It means so very much.
Cheers!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2019 Jenni M Photography LLC
Debra Webb is the USA Today bestselling author of more than 150 novels. She is the recipient of the prestigious Romantic Times Career Achievement Award for Romantic Suspense as well as numerous Reviewers’ Choice Awards. In 2012 Webb was honored as the first recipient of the esteemed L. A. Banks Warrior Woman Award for courage, strength, and grace in the face of adversity. Webb was also awarded the distinguished Centennial Award for having published her hundredth novel. She has more than four million books in print in many languages and countries.
Webb’s love of storytelling goes back to her childhood, when her mother bought her an old typewriter at a tag sale. Born in Alabama, Webb grew up on a farm. She spent every available hour exploring the world around her and creating her stories. Visit her at www.debrawebb.com.
Debra Webb, Gone Too Far (Devlin & Falco)
