“You okay?” Nikolai leaned close, looked into her eyes.

Her vision was still blurry, and the angles and planes of his face seemed to shift and sway as she tried to meet his gaze. Or maybe it was the tears swimming in her eyes that made it seem that way.

“I’m sorry, Jenna. There was nothing you could have done to save her. You know that, right?”

“I know that my head hurts. I know that I’m more tired than I’ve ever been in my life. I know that I wish I’d never agreed to go on that mission trip.” But she didn’t know that what Nikolai was saying was true. Maybe she’d missed an opportunity. Maybe she could have done something that would have changed things.

“Jenna—”

“I hate crying in front of strangers,” she said.

“I don’t think we’re strangers anymore,” he responded, and the first tear slipped down Jenna’s cheek. He wiped it away.

SHIRLEE MCCOY

has always loved making up stories. As a child, she daydreamed elaborate tales in which she was the heroine—gutsy, strong and invincible. Though she soon grew out of her superhero fantasies, her love for storytelling never diminished. She knew early that she wanted to write inspirational fiction, and she began writing her first novel when she was a teenager. Still, it wasn’t until her third son was born that she truly began pursuing her dream of being published. Three years later she sold her first book. Now a busy mother of five, Shirlee is a homeschool mom by day and an inspirational author by night. She and her husband and children live in Washington and share their house with a dog, two cats and a bird. You can visit her website at www.shirleemccoy.com, or email her at shirlee@shirleemccoy.com.

Running Blind
Shirlee McCoy

MILLS & BOON

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In that day the deaf will hear the words of the scroll, and out of gloom and darkness the eyes of the blind will see. Once more the humble will rejoice in the Lord; the needy will rejoice in the Holy One of Israel.

—Isaiah 29:18,19

To Brenda Minton, Love Inspired author, friend, sister of the heart. Of all the things that being a writer has brought into my life, I value your friendship the most.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

LETTER TO READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

ONE

Jenna Dougherty woke to darkness, the pulsing agony in her head drowning out sound, wiping away thoughts and memories. For a moment she knew nothing but darkness, nothing but pain, and then she knew it all.

Three men breaking down the door to the hotel room, dragging Magdalena Romero away. Jenna following, screaming for help as she tried to save her friend. Both of them being shoved into a van and driven for hours before being dumped into a basement room.

Had they been there days or hours before the men had returned? Jenna wasn’t sure, she only knew that she and Magdalena had fought for freedom.

Fought and lost.

For Jenna, there had been a moment of agony, and then nothing.

Until now.

Jenna tried to move her arms and legs, tried to call out, but the bonds were too tight, the rag over her mouth oily and old. She gagged, her heart racing with terror, her fingers scratching against dirt-covered cement as she tried to gain leverage and mobility. She twisted onto her side, trying to shimmy closer to the area where she’d last seen Magdalena. Was she still there? Or had she been taken?

Please, God, let her still be here.

A sound drifted through the darkness. Fabric rustling as someone moved. Soft footfalls on cement.

Jenna tensed, her eyes straining in the darkness. She saw nothing, not even a hint of light or movement, but the blackness seemed to pulse with energy. Someone was there. She felt what she could not see, and she braced for the attack she knew was coming.

A humid breeze tickled her cheeks, carrying a hint of rain and the dusty, thick scent of sun-baked earth. Was a door open? A window?

She needed to get her numb hands moving, try to undo the heavy rope that bound her. Only then would she have a chance at survival. She shifted, hoping to ease the pressure on her arms, get some blood flowing to her fingers. She could do this. She would.

The sound came again. Closer. Maybe only feet away, then right beside her. The air alive with it. Someone touched her neck—warm, dry fingers probing the pulse point there—and Jenna jerked back.

Or tried to.

Her movements were sluggish, the retreat nothing more than a subtle recoiling of muscle.

“It’s okay. I’m here to help.” The voice was as deep and velvety as the darkness, but Jenna didn’t believe the lie. She wanted to kick and punch and claw her way to freedom, but her body would not respond, and she could do nothing but lie still as hands slid down her arms, felt the rope around her wrists.

“I’m going to use a knife to cut you free, Jenna. Hold still. Your brother will have my hide if I hurt you.”

Her brother?

Kane? Had their folks called him when she hadn’t made her Monday evening phone call?

She tried to ask, but the gag kept her from speaking, and she choked on the oily cloth.

A hand smoothed her hair, the cold blade of a knife pressing close to her head for just a second before the gag fell away.

“I—” she started, but her mouth was dry, her throat tight, and she could do nothing but suck in great gulps of humid air until she thought she would drown in it.

“Shhhhh. Whatever needs to be said can be said when we’re out of here.” He spoke quietly, his hand gentle on her cheek. There and gone as he bent over her wrists, sliced through the ropes. Her ankles were next, and then she was free but not free, her body still numb from hours spent tied up.

“Can you stand?”

“Yes.” If it meant escaping, she could do anything. She pushed against the floor, struggled to her knees.

His arm wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her upright. “Come on. We may be on borrowed time.”

“I can’t leave my friend,” Jenna rasped out. “Magdalena?”

“There’s no one here. Just us.”

“She was here. She has to still be here.” Jenna took a step away, her legs trembling, sharp pain shooting up from her feet as the blood began flowing there again.

“There’s no one here. Let’s go before that changes.”

“It’s dark. Maybe if we find a light…”

“What did you say?” He put a hand on her shoulder, holding her still.

“We need to turn on the light.”

Fabric rustled and hands cupped her cheeks.

“What can you see, Jenna?”

She wanted to shove his hands away, tell him that they had more to worry about than what she could or couldn’t see, but something in his tone held her motionless. “Nothing.”

“No shadows? No light?”

“No.”

“It’s broad daylight. There’s light spilling in from the window I climbed in through. You can’t see it?”

She went cold at his words, everything within her stilling.

And then she reached up, touched her eyes, not sure what she expected to feel. What she hoped to feel. Maybe a blindfold. Something that would be blocking the light. But there was nothing.

“I can’t see anything.”

“You’ve got a deep bruise on your forehead. Maybe that has something to do with it.” His fingers traced a line from the bridge of her nose to her hairline, probing the tender flesh there.

“It doesn’t matter how it happened. I’m blind!” She could feel herself panicking, feel the breath catching in her throat, her mind spinning away.

“Hey, it’s okay. Take a deep breath. Let it out slowly.” He laid his palm against her cheek again, let it rest there as she tried to catch her breath.

“No. It’s not.”

“Yeah. It is. You’re alive, and you’re going to stay that way. We’ll worry about the rest after we’re out of here.”

He was right.

She needed to calm down, get a handle on her emotions the same way she had the day she’d been told she had cancer and had less than a year to live. She’d fought that diagnosis, and she’d won. This was simply another battle, another challenge.

“Okay. I’m okay,” she managed to say, even though she wasn’t sure it was true.

“I knew you were. Now, let’s get out of here and get you to a hospital.” There was a hint of an accent to his voice, but Jenna couldn’t place it.

“We have to find Magdalena first.” She pulled away, turning around in a circle, the darkness suddenly deeper, more oppressive. She was blind, and that was something she couldn’t think about. Not if she was going to help her friend and herself.

“I told you, she’s not here.”

“Then they took her. We have to figure out where they brought her.” She took a step, her arms out in front of her as she tried to navigate her way through the blackness.

“How? Who would we ask? The men who beat you? We don’t know what happened to your friend. Maybe she’s alive. Maybe she’s not. What we know is that you are alive, and if you’re going to stay that way, we’ve got to get out of here.”

Maybe she’s alive.

Maybe she’s not.

The words slammed into Jenna’s already pounding head. She and Magdalena had met in college and become good friends. Jenna had been Magdalena’s maid of honor when she’d gotten married and had been on hand for the birth of her son three years ago. When Jenna was diagnosed with leukemia, Magdalena had left her busy Houston medical practice and flown to New York to be by her side.

They weren’t just friends; they were sisters.

And there was no way Jenna was going to leave Mexico without her.

She yanked away from her rescuer’s hold and ran, arms stretched out, feeling through the darkness. Her feet tangled in something, and she tripped, momentum carrying her forward too quickly for her sluggish body to compensate. She went down hard, her hands and knees sliding across concrete, pain stabbing up her arms.

Hot tears slid down her cheeks and she didn’t have the strength to wipe them away. Didn’t have the strength to get up and run again.

She caught a whiff of leather and mint, felt a warm palm brush the moisture from her cheeks, the touch so tender and light, so filled with compassion that more tears burned behind her eyes.

“You’re in no condition to hunt for your friend. Do you see that now?” His voice rumbled through the darkness, steely and hard, much different from the gentleness of his touch.

Jenna stiffened, struggled to her feet, wishing she had the strength to prove him wrong. “You’ve made your point.”

“I don’t have a point. I have a goal, and that’s to get you back home alive.”

“What about Magdalena? She’s got a little boy.” All Jenna had was a black cat named Dante who came and went as he pleased.

“I know.”

“Then leave me here and go find her. I’ll be safe enough until—”

“Shh. Someone is upstairs.” He pressed a finger to her lips, and she froze, listening as a floorboard creaked above her head.

“We need to get out of here. Come on.” He swooped her up, carrying her across the room and setting her down again almost before she realized what he was doing.

“There’s a window high up on the wall. I’ll climb out, make sure the area is secure and then pull you through. Okay?” He whispered against her ear, his breath ruffling her hair.

There was a whisper of noise, and she knew she was alone again.

A minute ticked by. Then another.

Or maybe just seconds had passed, the darkness and ominous silence stretching each second into minutes, each minute into hours.

Floorboards creaked again, the sound reverberating through the tomblike basement.

Would the door fly open?

Would men pound down the stairs and haul Jenna away, just as they had Magdalena?

She reached forward and touched cement blocks, ran her palms up the rough surface, unwilling to wait another second for her rescuer to pull her through the window. Splintered wood dug into the palm of her hand, but she didn’t pull back.

The windowframe. It had to be.

It was high. Maybe two feet above her head, but not so high that she couldn’t manage to pull herself up and out. She felt along the wood with both hands, running her palms to the edge of the frame and as high as she could on either side. It was large enough to escape through, and she boosted herself up, ignoring the pain as slivers of wood pierced her skin.

If there was broken glass, she didn’t feel it as she maneuvered her shoulders through the opening, felt hot sun bathe her face and realized her mistake. Was she at ground level? Or higher? Was anyone watching her escape? Was her rescuer standing nearby, or had he run?

She didn’t know, but she was fully committed to her escape, and she wasn’t going to back down now. She reached forward, trying to feel the ground, and shrieked as someone grabbed her hand.

“Shh. Do you want whoever’s hanging out in that house to come after us?” her rescuer hissed.

“You could have warned me you were there.”

“I was trying to maintain silence for the safety of both of us.” He grabbed her other hand, tugged gently. “The ground is two inches below you. Come on. Let’s get moving.”

He gave another tug and Jenna maneuvered the rest of the way out the window. Humid air enveloped her, filling her nose with the scent of sun-baked earth and rotting garbage. Somewhere in the distance, people were talking or arguing, their rapid-fire Spanish beyond what Jenna was able to understand. Aside from that, the day was silent. No hum of traffic. No roar of buses. Nothing like the bustling Mexican border town where Jenna and Magdalena had been working with Team Hope.

“Where are we?” she whispered, as her rescuer urged her forward.

“Santo Trista. It’s twenty miles from the border. Now, how about we stay quiet until we’re in my car and out of here? I don’t like the feel of things.”

Neither did Jenna.

As a matter of fact, every hair on the back of her neck was standing on end.

Somewhere behind them, a voice called out, the Spanish words faint and unintelligible.

Her rescuer tensed, his hand tightening on Jenna’s. She could feel him shifting position. Was he looking for the source, searching for some sign of what was to come?

A loud crack split the silence, and Jenna screamed, the sound cut off as she was lifted, thrown over a shoulder. Her head bounced against warm leather, the jarring motion only adding to the throbbing agony in her head.

They were moving fast, and she could hear her rescuer’s steady, deep breaths as he covered ground. He was in shape, she’d give him that, but Jenna doubted that was going to be enough to save them. Another sharp crack, and something whizzed by so close that Jenna felt it slice through the air.

She wanted to scream. Would have screamed, but her throat was too tight with fear.

Please, God, please.

The prayer was only half-formed when her rescuer skidded to a stop, shifted her weight. “In. Quick.”

He slid her down in front of him, and she reached out blindly, her hands sliding against warm leather seats as her rescuer urged her to move.

And she did. Crawling onto the leather seat, barely managing to move aside as he climbed in after her. The engine roared to life, and the vehicle jerked forward, picking up speed at an alarming rate.

“Get down!” He shouted the order as he pressed a hand against her back, forcing her to lean forward, her head slamming into something as she went. Pain wiped away all thought, and for a moment she floated in darkness, hearing nothing, feeling nothing. Glass shattered, dragging her from the edge of unconsciousness, pulling her back into reality.

She tried to sit up but was pressed back down as the car continued to accelerate, the tires spinning as her rescuer took another sharp turn. Jenna flew sideways, banging into the door and bouncing back again. She gripped the seat, her fingers digging into soft leather.

Had she escaped the basement so that she could die in a fiery crash?

Please, God, get me out of this alive.

The prayer filled her mind as the car took another sharp turn. She lost her grip on the seat, flew into the door again, her shoulder hitting first, her head following. Pain exploded through her and she felt a brief moment of panic, and then she felt nothing at all.

TWO

Nikolai Jansen had survived enemy fire in Afghanistan and a roadside bomb in Iraq. He didn’t plan to die twenty miles from the U.S. border during what should have been an easy assignment.

He took a sharp left, smiling grimly as the squeal of tires and the sound of shattering glass filled the car. The old truck that had been following hadn’t been able to make the turn.

Good.

One less carload of bad guys to deal with.

Beside him, Jenna groaned, straightening in her seat and nearly toppling forward into the dashboard. He grabbed her shoulder, holding her up as he eased off the accelerator. She was in bad shape. Beaten and blind, the wound on her forehead three different shades of green and blue. The sooner he got her to a hospital the better, but stopping now wasn’t an option. The Mexican drug cartel that had grabbed her was notorious for silencing people it took issue with. It seemed that Jenna was one of them. Or, perhaps, it had simply been her friend the Mexican Panthers were after.

“Did we lose them?” Her words were soft and slurred, her face colorless, aside from the bruise on her forehead and the freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks. According to her brother, Nikolai’s boss, Kane Dougherty, she’d been in Mexico working as a physical therapist at a pediatrics clinic. She hadn’t gotten anything but trouble for her effort.

“For now.”

“What if they find us again?”

“Let’s not borrow trouble.”

“I’m not talking about borrowing it. I’m talking about having it handed to us on a silver platter,” she muttered, leaning her head back against the seat.

“If they find us again, we’ll deal with it the way we did before.”

“By running?”

“Or fighting. Whichever will get us out of the situation alive.”

“I’m not sure I’m in great shape for fighting.”

“No worries. I’ve got enough fight in me for both of us.”

“You said my brother sent you.”

“I work for your brother’s PI firm and was following a lead in San Antonio. Kane asked if I could take a trip across the border to see how you were doing.”

“Typical Kane. Always keeping an eye on the people he loves.”

“That’s not such a bad thing, is it?” he asked, more to keep Jenna talking than because of any real need for conversation. Twenty minutes and they’d hit the U.S. border and the medical help Jenna obviously needed. Twenty minutes wasn’t long in the grand scheme of a life, but with head injuries, twenty minutes could be all a person had.

“No. And, right at this moment, I’m really glad he likes to keep an eye on me. I couldn’t have escaped that basement without your help.” She paused, took a deep shaky breath. “I don’t suppose you have any kind of pain relievers on you?”

“There’s a bottle of Tylenol in your purse, but I’m not sure a doctor would approve of you having any.”

“You’ve got my purse?” Her head was tilted down and her hair fell forward, covering her face and preventing him from seeing her expression.

He reached over and brushed straight red hair from her forehead and cheek, and she turned her head, her light blue eyes eerily empty. Blind, she’d said, and looking in her blank stare, Nikolai had no doubt that she was right. “Do you have my purse?” she repeated, and Nikolai jerked his attention back to the road and to the conversation. He’d have time to feel sorry for Jenna after they made it to safety. Until then, all his focus needed to be on the mission.

“I grabbed it from your hotel room. I figured you might need your passport and ID.” And he’d also figured that if the police found the purse, they’d keep it until Jenna or a family member retrieved it. That would have made it difficult for him to follow through on his plan to find Jenna and to get her out of Mexico.

“I guess your foresight paid off.”

“It will if we make it to the border.”

“How far are we from it?”

“Fifteen minutes.” But it only took seconds for things to change. For good to turn bad. For easy to become difficult. He’d seen it dozens of times as a Marine in Iraq and Afghanistan. Had nearly died when a peaceful day had exploded into violence. Expecting the unexpected was what he’d been trained to do. Returning to the United States and to life as a civilian hadn’t changed that.

“Fifteen minutes. That’s not so bad, and I guess if we’ve made it this far, there’s no reason to think we won’t make it the rest of the way,” she said.

He didn’t bother to tell her that there was every reason to think they wouldn’t. There was no point in stating the obvious. “Once I get you across the border, I’ll go back and search for your friend.”

“If that’s what you’re planning, why cross the border at all? We can both go look for her.” Her voice was weak, the adrenaline that had been keeping her going, fading.

“We’ve covered that ground before, Jenna. Right now, my priority is you.”

“Because my brother is paying the tab? If that’s the case—”

“No one is paying the tab. I came down here as a favor to a friend.”

“Then let’s go back. Magdalena—”

“Wouldn’t want you to die for her.”

At his words, she fell silent, dropping her head into her hands, her thoughts about his comment hidden. Either she realized the truth of his words, or she’d run out of energy and no longer had the strength to argue.

Nikolai wanted to comfort her, but there was nothing he could say. No way that he could convince her that they were doing the right thing. Leaving someone behind never felt right, regardless of the circumstances.

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Kane Dougherty’s number. Owner of Information Unlimited, Kane had asked Nikolai to join the private investigative firm two months ago. The job offer had come at the right time, and Nikolai had accepted. Since then, he’d tracked down missing relatives for two clients, traced the money trail of a man who’d left his wife and kids for another woman, and followed a suspected embezzler from Houston to San Antonio.

And now he’d found Kane’s sister bound and gagged in the stronghold of the Mexican Panthers.

“Dougherty here.”

“Are you still in the States?”

“In Denver. I’ve got a three-hour layover here. I’ll be in Mexico at three. Do you have any news?”

“Better than news. I’ve got your sister. We’re a couple of miles from the border.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’s injured.”

“How badly?”

“She’s blind.”

Dougherty didn’t respond, his silence speaking volumes. He was worried about his sister. Desperate to be there to protect her. Frustrated because he wasn’t. Nikolai understood all those feelings. He’d felt them all in the twenty years during which he’d been separated from his sisters. He’d been blessed to be reunited with Morgan, but Katia was still out in the world somewhere. An adult now, but still his little sister and still, in some indefinable way, his responsibility.

“Tell him I’m okay.” Jenna roused herself enough to speak, and Dougherty must have heard.

“Is that her? Let me speak to her.”

“Are you up to speaking with your brother?” Nikolai asked, and Jenna nodded.

He placed the phone in her palm, felt her hand trembling. She was still terrified and probably in shock, her skin cool and clammy to the touch. He should have grabbed the blanket he kept in the trunk of the car and wrapped it around her shoulders, but there hadn’t been time for anything but getting her in the car and getting her out of the line of fire.

“Kane? No, I can’t see anything, but I’m sure it’s not permanent.” There was confidence in her voice, and Nikolai wondered if she really believed what she was saying or if she was simply trying to reassure her brother.

He didn’t ask, just took the phone after she finished her conversation and tucked it into his pocket. The border checkpoint was just ahead. Several cars were waiting to pass through, and Nikolai pulled into line behind them.

“We’ve slowed down. What’s going on?” Jenna asked, her voice much weaker than it had been when she’d spoken to her brother. Her lips and face were colorless, the bruise on her forehead deep purple.

“We’re at the border.”

“Then I guess we’re home free.” There was no relief in her voice, no indication that she was happy to be within reach of safety.

Was she thinking about Magdalena?

Or had she realized that making it to the border and making it across were two different things?

Nikolai didn’t ask. Just inched the car forward, his gaze on a car pulling up behind him. It looked like any other car, and maybe it was, but the hair on the back of Nikolai’s neck stood on end, his pulse thrumming. Danger hung in the air, and he couldn’t ignore it.

He turned the steering wheel, maneuvering out of line, and speeding toward the border checkpoint.

“What’s happening?” Jenna’s panicked cry mixed with the roar of the engine, but Nikolai didn’t have time to answer. The doors of the other vehicle opened, and two men climbed out.

“Get down!” He shouted the command, and Jenna obeyed, diving down as the first bullet exploded through the rear window. Another followed, the sound reverberating through the car as Border Patrol agents streamed from their stations. Nikolai slammed on his brakes, the tires squealing as the car shuddered to a stop.

“Are w—” Jenna started to rise, and Nikolai shoved her down again, throwing his body over hers.

Gunfire blasted around them, the sound blocking out everything but the thundering beat of Nikolai’s heart.

For a moment he was in Afghanistan again, diving for cover as the enemy fired from a rooftop. He could smell the dirt and the coppery scent of his comrades’ blood, could hear his own desperate prayers rising from the deepest part of his soul.

And then there was silence, and he was back in the present, pressing Jenna down into leather seats, smelling flowery shampoo and fear.

Jenna tried to move, but he held her down. “Wait another minute. Let’s give everyone time to calm down. We don’t want to get shot by the good guys.”

“Right.” She panted the word, and he shifted his weight, trying to give her room to breathe. He could feel her trembling, could hear the quick, sharp intake of air as she struggled not to panic.

“It’s okay. Everything is going to be fine,” he said quietly, smoothing deep red hair from her cheek. Her skin was silky and much too cool for such a warm day.

“You. In the car. Sit up slowly. Keep your hands where we can see them.” The shouted command was repeated in Spanish, and Nikolai did as he was told, rising slowly, his hands in the air.

Jenna did the same, swaying slightly as she moved.

Nikolai wanted to put a hand on her shoulder and hold her steady, but he doubted he’d live long enough to regret it if he did.

The car doors opened, and Nikolai was dragged out.

“Watch out for my friend. She’s got a head injury, and she can’t see. We need to get her medical attention,” he said as the patrol officer frisked him.

“Let’s take things slow. Why don’t you tell me who you are and why you’ve got someone gunning for you?” The officer took a step back, allowing Nikolai to turn around and face him. A body lay on the road a few yards away, and another gunman was being frisked by a border patrol officer.

“I’m Nikolai Jansen. My friend was kidnapped and held prisoner by the Mexican Panthers. She managed to escape, and I’m trying to get her across the border and to the hospital.”

“Do the police know about this?”

“They know she was kidnapped, but I haven’t let them know that she’s escaped. I thought it would be safer to get her across the border first.”

The officer frowned, and then nodded. “There’s been some trouble with the Mexican police being on the payrolls of several different drug cartels, so I can understand your concern. How about we move inside? We’ll check out your story and see what the police have to say.”

“Sounds good.” Anything to get Jenna out of the open.

A female officer finished frisking Jenna and stepped back, nodding with satisfaction. “She’s clean.”

Nikolai took Jenna’s forearm, steering her toward the narrow border patrol station. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. I even think my vision is returning.” She offered a brief smile, but her pallor and the tentative way she moved belied her words.

“Are you able to see light?” He slipped an arm around her waist, knowing that she needed the support whether she wanted to admit it or not.

“I think I’m seeing shadows moving. Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wishing.”

“No, but wishes usually don’t come true. If they did, I’d wish bigger than getting my vision back.”

“Yeah?”

“I’d wish Magdalena were here with me.” Her voice broke, and Nikolai tugged her closer to his side.

“It really is going to be okay, Jenna.”

“For me, but that’s not what I’m worried about.” It was what Nikolai was worried about. He didn’t have time to say it.

One minute Jenna was walking and talking, the next she was slipping out of his grasp. He just managed to catch her, pulling her up into his arms and shouting for the border patrol officer to call for an ambulance. As he looked down into Jenna’s colorless face, he could only pray that the ambulance would get there in time.

THREE

Gray and black. Shadows and light. Fuzzy images that didn’t quite make sense. Jenna blinked, trying to bring the hospital room into focus. There was a clock on the wall, but she couldn’t make out the time. That was just as well. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know how many hours had passed since she’d arrived at the hospital, or how much time had passed since she’d last seen Magdalena.

Too much time. There’s no way she’s still alive.

The thought flitted through her mind and lodged there, the words repeating over and over again until Jenna wanted to scream.

Magdalena was not dead.

She was alive and waiting to be found.

Jenna refused to believe anything else.

Refused to, but the thought was still there, echoing through her mind, chasing her out of the bed she’d been brought to just a few minutes before.

She swayed, the IV needle in her arm pulling a little as she grabbed the bed railing to keep from falling. The throbbing agony in her head intensified as she crossed the room and pulled open a heavy curtain, letting in bright sunlight that seared its way into her skull.

She winced, pulling the curtains closed again, sweat beading her brow, her body shaking from the pain. It didn’t matter, though. Nothing mattered except finding out what had happened to Magdalena. She wanted to pull out the IV, walk out the door and search for her friend, but she knew she wouldn’t make it out of the hospital parking lot. She had no car. No other means of transportation. Even if she had, how far would she get with severely limited vision?

Jenna scowled as she paced back across the room, grabbed her clothes from a pile on a chair and pulled on her jeans. Her T-shirt wouldn’t go on over the IV, so she tossed it back onto the chair. She’d never been one to give up easily, and she wouldn’t give up now. There had to be a way to get back to Mexico.

But was going back the right thing to do?

God had brought her safely out of a dangerous situation. Should she throw herself back into it?

She didn’t know, couldn’t concentrate enough to figure it out.

I wouldn’t mind a clue, Lord. Some hint as to what You want me to do. She prayed as she paced to the chair in the corner of the room. A small table stood beside it, and Jenna could see something lying on top of it. She reached out, felt soft leather. Her purse. It had to be. She opened it, checking for her passport and wallet. Neither were there. Nikolai must have brought the purse into her room and left it while she was down in radiology.

Nikolai who had found his way into a drug cartel’s stronghold and freed her. He’d said he’d done so as a favor to her brother, and he’d said he would go back for Magdalena as soon as he got Jenna to safety. Had he? Jenna grabbed a blanket from the bed and tossed it around her shoulders, determined to find out. It seemed to take too much effort to open the door, and she swayed as she stepped out into the hall.

“Going somewhere?” The deep, gruff voice was so unexpected, Jenna jumped, whirling to face the speaker and regretting it immediately. Lights flashed in front of her eyes, the world spun and she was falling. Firm hands wrapped around her upper arms, supporting her until it settled back into place.

“Thanks.” She took a step back, looking up into a rugged, handsome face. Nikolai’s face? It had to be. The voice, the gentle strength of the hands—those were things she’d never forget.

“You can thank me by sitting down. I don’t think a woman with a fractured skull should be walking around.”

She didn’t argue as she was urged down into a chair against the wall outside her room.

“Better?” Nikolai crouched in front of her, and she could just make out dark hair and striking features. High cheekbones. A strong jaw.

“Yes. Thanks.”

“You’re supposed to be in bed resting.”

“And you’re supposed to be on your way back to Mexico to find Magdalena.” Even as she said it, she knew how ungrateful she sounded. He’d saved Jenna’s life, and she had no right to ask him for more. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t what I meant to say.”

“No apology necessary. I said I would go, and I would have, but Border Patrol won’t let me back into Mexico.”

“Then, I’ll go.” She started to rise, but he put a hand on her arm, holding her in place.

“You know that won’t work, Jenna.”

“It might. I just need my passport. Do you have it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’ll get a nurse to take out this IV, and I’ll be on my way.” She struggled to her feet, and this time he didn’t try to stop her.

“To do what? Border Patrol isn’t any more likely to let you cross the border than it was me.” His voice was gentle, and Jenna blinked back tears she’d been refusing for hours.

“If they won’t, I’ll find another way to get across.”

“Do you really think I’m going to let you make an attempt at an illegal border crossing?”

“You did your job, Nikolai. You got me out of Mexico. What I do now is up to me.”

“Not if you aren’t thinking clearly.”

“I’m thinking plenty clearly.”

“Telling yourself that won’t make it true and throwing yourself back into danger won’t save your friend.”

“I have to at least try.” She stepped to the door, her stomach roiling, stars dancing in front of her eyes.

“You’ve got a fractured skull and you can’t see…”

“My vision is coming back. The doctors said it should be completely normal in a few hours.”

“Jen, you can barely walk.”

“I’m fine!” But she wasn’t. Not fine enough to take another step let alone attempt to walk across the border into Mexico.

Nikolai must have sensed her defeat. He slid an arm around her waist, supporting her as they walked back into the room.

She dropped onto the bed, blinking hard to bring Nikolai into sharper focus. “I just want her to be okay.”

“I know.” He pulled a chair over and sat across from her.

“If she’s not—”

“You’ll go on. That’s how life is.”

“You make it sound as if it’s a done deal. Do you know something I don’t?”

“All I know is that your friend is still missing. I called the Mexican police less than an hour ago, and they still haven’t located her.”

“But they’re looking?”

“Of course.”

“And?”

“They’ve searched the building where I found you, but it’s empty. The Mexican Panthers cleared everything out before the police arrived.”

“You’ve mentioned them before.”

“Who?”

“The Mexican Panthers. I’d never heard of them before today.”

“Consider yourself fortunate. They’re one of the most notorious drug cartels in Mexico, and they don’t believe in letting their enemies live.”

“I don’t understand what that has to do with me or Magdalena.”

“Neither do the Mexican police or the DEA. It’s what they’re hoping to find out.”

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. The Mexican Panthers are quick to murder enemies, but they’re not known for taking out innocent people.”

“You’re not implying that Magdalena and I were involved in the drug trade, are you? Because if you are—”

“I’m not implying anything. I’m telling you what the police are probably thinking.”

“Then, they’re thinking wrong.”

“Maybe. Or maybe there’s information that you know nothing about. Something that might have led the Mexican Panthers to you and your friend.”

“Like?”

“It’s possible Magdalena—”

“No way.” There was absolutely no way that Magdalena was involved in drug trafficking.

“Hear me out, Jenna.” He leaned close, his dark eyes staring into hers. Were they brown? Dark blue? She couldn’t tell, and she was tempted to move closer, look more deeply.

She leaned back instead, unsettled in a way she hadn’t been in years.

She didn’t like the feeling.

Didn’t like it at all.

“Say what you need to say, Nikolai, but it won’t change what I know about Magdalena.”

“It’s possible your friend wasn’t the person you thought her to be. She may have had secrets she couldn’t share with you.”

Magdalena had seemed tense in the weeks leading to the trip, but Jenna had chalked it up to stress. Was it possible something else had been weighing on her mind?

Jenna shook her head, denying her doubts as much as she was denying Nikolai’s words. “Everyone has secrets, but Magdalena’s weren’t the kind that get people killed.”

“Then perhaps Magdalena got in the way of a transaction between someone she knew and the drug cartel. Is it possible someone working at the clinic was trafficking in narcotics?”

“I don’t know. There were fifteen people on our medical team, and Magdalena is the only one I knew.” Jenna shook her head, wincing as pain shot through her skull. Her stomach heaved and she swallowed hard. No way did she plan to lose her lunch in front of Nikolai. She bent forward, trying to ease the nausea, wishing her thinking was less muddled. Maybe Nikolai was right and someone at the clinic had been involved in drug smuggling, but she couldn’t think of who it might be. Couldn’t even begin to imagine any of the volunteers stooping so low.

Nikolai touched her knee, his fingers warm through thick denim. “Why don’t you lie down? I’ll make some more phone calls. Perhaps the police have new information.”

“I’m okay.” She straightened, sweat beading her brow as her stomach heaved again.

“You’re as pale as a ghost.”

“So maybe I should have said that I will be okay.” She stood, swaying as she took a step toward the window.

Her vision seemed to be clearing, the steroids the doctors were pumping into her doing their job. God was in control, and everything would work out okay. It was a mantra that she’d repeated to herself often during the two years she’d fought leukemia. Chemotherapy had sapped her strength, turned her into a person she didn’t know, and she’d had to remind herself every day that she’d be herself again when it was over. When it finally was, when she’d thought she would celebrate with longtime boyfriend Ryan Mayer and had, instead, listened as he’d told her how much he cared about her and how sorry he was that he’d fallen in love with someone else, she’d reminded herself that she would be okay. Her hair would grow back, her body would be strong again, her heart would heal.

Yes, God was in control, and Jenna would be okay.

But would Magdalena?

Jenna wanted to believe that she would be. Wanted to have hope that Magdalena would be found alive and healthy and anxious to go back to her husband and son.

She wanted to, but hope was elusive, her hold on it tentative. She swallowed back tears and turned away from the window, nearly falling backward when she realized Nikolai was right behind her.

“Careful.” He grabbed her hand, holding her steady as she regained her balance, the warmth of his touch seeping into her chilled flesh.

“Thanks.” She pulled her hand away, her cheeks heating for reasons she refused to acknowledge.

“You look feverish. I’ll call the nurse, and—”

“No!” She nearly shouted, her cheeks heating even more. “You’ve already done plenty, Nikolai. Actually, you’ve done more than plenty. You saved my life, and I won’t ever forget it. I hope you know that.”

“It sounds like you’re getting ready to say goodbye.” He offered a half smile that transformed him from handsome to drop-dead gorgeous, and Jenna’s heart skipped a beat.

“It’s time, isn’t it? I’m safe in the hospital, and I’m sure you have a lot of other things you could be doing.”

“I can’t think of anything.”

“You could go home.”

“Now it sounds like you’re kicking me out.”

“I’m not, but I’m sure my brother will be here soon, and there’s no need for you to wait for him to show up.”

“I spoke to Kane after we arrived at the hospital. He’ll be here in about an hour. I’ll take off once he arrives—”

“You really don’t have to—”

“I want to. Besides, my flight to Houston doesn’t leave until tonight.”

“Houston?”

“I live there.”

“So does Magdalena.”

“I know.”

“What else do you know?”

“That she’s a pediatrician who specializes in orthopedic surgery and that she’s been running medical clinics in Mexico for several years. That she has a three-year-old son named Benjamin and a husband named John.”

“You’ve been busy.”

“I like to know the people I’m searching for.”

“Searching for?” Surprised, Jenna stepped toward him, misjudging the distance and bumping into his chest. She blushed as he grabbed her arms, steadying her for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“You’re not the only one who doesn’t believe in leaving people behind. I haven’t given up on going back across the border. I’ve got some friends in Houston who may be able to help me do it.”

“Who—” She was interrupted by a sharp rap on the door, and Nikolai whirled toward the sound, his broad frame blocking Jenna’s view.

She stepped sideways, her stomach dropping as she saw a suited man standing in the threshold of the door. He was bringing news. Jenna was sure of that, but her vision was still too impaired to read his facial expression.

“Jenna?”

“Yes?”

“I’m Agent Skip Bradley with the DEA.” He pulled something from his pocket and held it out, but Jenna couldn’t make out any details.

Nikolai moved toward the man, offering a hand. “I’m Nikolai Jansen.”

“Good to meet you, Nikolai. I’d like to speak with Jenna in private. I’m sure you won’t mind waiting out in the hall.”

“Actually, I would.”

“I’m going to have to insist.”

“I’m sure you are, but I’m not going anywhere until Jenna’s family arrives.” Nikolai pressed a hand to Jenna’s back, urging her to the chair.

She sat quickly, her head spinning from the movement. “Do you have news, Agent Bradley?”

“I’m afraid that’s why I’m here.”

Afraid?

That meant the news was bad. “You’ve found Magdalena?”

“The Mexican police found her body. She was shot execution-style and left on the side of the road about twenty miles from where you were being held.”

Dead.

Magdalena was dead.

The words echoed through Jenna’s mind, and she took a deep breath, trying to silence them. “You’re sure it’s her?”

“Her husband is flying to Mexico to identify the body, but we’re confident it is.”

“I see.”

But she didn’t.

How was it possible that Magdalena was dead? That a mission of mercy had turned into a death sentence?

Nikolai squeezed her shoulder, his hand resting there as Agent Bradley continued. “I’m really sorry to have to bring you this news, Jenna, but we’re hoping that something you know can help us find your friend’s killers.”

“Magdalena was one of the kindest, most selfless people I’ve ever known. I can’t think of any reason why someone would want to harm her.”

“Would it surprise you to know we found thousands of dollars worth of cocaine hidden inside the lining of her suitcase and purse back at the hotel room you shared?”

“Nothing would surprise me at this point.” She stood, pacing across the room, away from Agent Bradley’s questions and Nikolai’s gentle support.

“Did you know it was there?”

“Of course, I didn’t. Neither did Magdalena.”

“It seems unlikely that Magdalena didn’t know what was hidden in her things,” Bradley responded, a hint of impatience in his voice.

“I’ve told you what I know and what I believe. I’m not sure what else you want me to say.”

“Who did she spend time with when she wasn’t working at the clinic?”

“Me. A few of the other medical professionals who were on the mission trip with us.”

“She didn’t go on errands alone? Perhaps take a few late-night strolls?”

“We were only there a couple of days, and she never went anywhere alone during that time.”

“How about phone calls?”

“What about them?” Jenna’s temper rose, washing over her in a wave that drowned out fatigue and pain and sorrow.

“You sound upset.”

“Of course, I’m upset. My best friend is dead. Murdered. And you’re accusing her of being involved in drug trafficking.”

“I’m not accusing. I’m questioning.”

“I don’t see the difference.”

“We need answers, Jenna. I’m sure you understand that.”

“I’m giving them to you, but I get the impression you’d rather me tell you a fantastic tale about late-night phone calls and strange disappearances than the truth.”

“The truth is that your friend was executed by the Mexican Panthers. The truth is it wasn’t just a random act.”

“It had to be.” Jenna bit back her temper, knowing it wouldn’t help. Losing control never made things easier, and it certainly wouldn’t convince Agent Bradley that she was telling the truth.

“Did you miss the part where I told you that Dr. Romero had thousands of dollars worth of illegal drugs in her suitcase and purse?”

“Someone else must have put that there. Magdalena was absolutely opposed to illegal drug use.”

“Who would have done that? When?”

“I don’t know. I just know that it wasn’t hers.”

“You think that it wasn’t, but—”

“It’s your job to find the truth, Agent Bradley, so perhaps you should go do that.” Nikolai broke into the conversation, and Bradley stiffened.

“Part of finding the truth involves interviewing people who knew the deceased.”

The deceased.

He said it as if Magdalena were a faceless, nameless body. Someone who had lived and died and whose life no longer had value.

“The deceased was a woman of integrity. The deceased had a son and a husband who loved her and hundreds of patients who respected and admired her. The deceased was a dear friend of mine, and if you think that I’m going to roll over and play dead while you accuse her of drug-related crimes, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“All I’m asking you to do is think back over your time in Mexico. See if there’s something that stood out as odd or out of character for Magdalena. Perhaps she was pressured into carrying those drugs. Perhaps someone on the team pulled her into something she didn’t want to do.”

“She wasn’t like that. She couldn’t be pressured into doing something illegal or immoral,” Jenna said, but knew Agent Bradley wouldn’t believe her. Did it even matter? They could argue all day and it wouldn’t bring Magdalena back. That thought was a splash of ice water that cooled Jenna’s temper, stole the energy that had pulsed through her. Her legs went weak, her body numb, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stay on her feet.

“Is it possible that she—”

“I don’t think I’m up to this, after all. Maybe we could finish the interview another time,” Jenna cut him off, dropping onto the edge of the bed.

“It’s imperative that we get as much information from you as soon as we can.”

“She said that she was done.” Nikolai spoke before Jenna could, stepping between her and the agent and bending down to look into her eyes. “Would you like me to call the nurse?”

“No. I just need to close my eyes for a while.” What she really needed was to be alone with her thoughts so that she could wrap her mind around what Agent Bradley was saying, what he was accusing Magdalena of.

“I’m sure Agent Bradley understands that.”

“I’ll come back in a few hours. I’m sure you’ll be feeling well enough to answer more questions by then.” There seemed to be a threat behind the agent’s words, and Jenna was still letting it sink in as the sound of footsteps and voices drifted in from the corridor.

“Ms. Dougherty?” A nurse stepped into the room. “You have another visitor.”

A tall, masculine figure appeared behind her. “Hey, sis. Sorry it took me so long to get here.”

“Kane?” She wanted to say more, but her voice caught.

“Who else?” He hurried across the room, his dark hair and familiar face so welcome, Jenna blinked back tears of relief.

“Magdalena is dead.” She said it without thinking, the truth bursting out and into the air, hanging there.

“I know. I heard on my way here.” He sat beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders.

“I should have tried harder to keep them from taking her.”

“You did everything you could.” He smoothed her hair just as he had when she was a kid and had run to him with a scraped knee or a bruised ego.

She didn’t respond, just closed her eyes, fighting back tears, knowing that if she let them fall, she’d never stop crying.

“I’ll come back in a few hours.” Agent Bradley spoke quietly, and for the first time since he’d entered the room, he sounded compassionate rather than businesslike.

“I’ll walk you out,” Nikolai said, and Jenna forced her eyes open.

“Will you be coming back?”

“Do you need me to?”

It was an odd question, and despite the fact that Kane was sitting beside her, Jenna almost said yes. “I guess not.”

“Then I’ll leave for the airport. I’ve got some business to take care of in Houston.”

But not the business he’d spoken of before. There would be no effort to cross the border, no desperate search for a missing woman. Magdalena had been found, and the truth of her death settled deep into Jenna’s heart. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she brushed it away, closing her eyes again, and turning her face so that the men wouldn’t see. Footsteps sounded on the tile floor, and someone leaned close. She could feel his warmth, smell the mint that seemed to hang on the air around Nikolai. A warm finger traced the path her tear had taken, but she didn’t open her eyes. Couldn’t. Not without letting everything she was feeling out.

“It will be okay, Jenna. You will grieve, and then you will go on. That’s how life is.” Nikolai echoed the words he’d spoken earlier, his voice seeping into Jenna’s self-imposed darkness.

She knew she should respond, but what was there to say? Magdalena was dead. Words couldn’t change that, so she kept silent, listening as Nikolai said goodbye to Kane and walked away.

FOUR

Hundreds of mourners picked their way across rain-soaked earth, following the pallbearers to a large tent covering the open grave. Black umbrella butted against black umbrella, the drip of rain and rustle of fabric mixing with hushed conversation and the slosh of feet on wet grass. Nikolai followed the crowd, his eyes on the vibrant blue umbrella near the head of the pack. It had been a week since he’d seen Jenna, but he had no trouble conjuring up an image of her face. He’d thought about her often in the days since he’d left her at the hospital.

Too often.

He’d wondered how she was doing. Worried that her vision hadn’t returned the way it was supposed to. He’d found himself calling Kane to check in on a daily basis, had almost given in to temptation and gone to the airport the day Jenna and her family had flown in for the funeral. That annoyed him. He was, after all, a confirmed bachelor. A guy who enjoyed freedom from the trappings of family and relationships.

At least he had been.

Things had changed in the past year. He’d reconnected with the sister he’d thought had been lost to him forever. He’d accepted a job working for Information Unlimited. He’d found himself with family ties and career ties, a small apartment in Houston and a church family that prayed for him when he was on assignment.

And now he found himself attending the funeral of a woman he didn’t know, offering support to someone he barely knew.

For sure he was changing, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

He skirted past a young couple carrying a crying toddler, bypassed several older couples and found a spot a dozen yards from the gravesite. Rain splashed onto his head and dripped down his face, but he didn’t bother wiping it away.

Under the tent, the pastor began to speak, his deep voice carrying across the cemetery, the words meant to comfort. How, though, could one find comfort in death? Even knowledge of God and Heaven did not take away the sting of goodbyes said too early. Nikolai had said enough of them to know that.

Magdalena Romero had been shot in cold blood. The truth of that tainted the victorious message of everlasting life that the pastor offered. Had a woman so admired by so many been involved in drug trafficking? That seemed to be the angle the DEA was pursuing. Nikolai had heard the same from the Mexican police he’d spoken to.

Yet Jenna was convinced of her friend’s innocence.

Either way, a young mother was gone, her son childless, her husband a widower.

The pastor finished speaking and family members placed pink and white roses on top of the casket. One by one, the mourners who’d braved the weather did the same. One by one, they said their goodbyes, shook the rain off their shoes and got back into their cars. A dark-haired man ushered a toddler away from the grave. The little boy splashed in a puddle near one of the limousines. Was he Magdalena’s child? If so, he was much too young to understand the finality of his mother’s death and burial.

It didn’t take long for the gravesite to empty of all but a few mourners. The dark-haired man and the child were joined by an older couple, and the four climbed into the limousine. The driver slowly pulled away.

Jenna stood beneath the tent, her umbrella held loosely in her hand. Kane and an older couple stood to her right. She said something, and the three walked toward a dark sedan parked nearby, leaving Jenna in front of the casket.

Alone, she seemed much smaller than Nikolai remembered. More fragile and less tough. In his memory, she’d been someone for whom losing would never be an option. Looking at her now, seeing her bowed shoulders and head, he had the impression of defeat rather than victory.

Grass and water sloshed under his feet as he crossed the space between them. The tent was nearly empty, the funeral home staff hovering a respectable distance away, waiting for the last mourner to leave. Hundreds of roses covered the gleaming mahogany casket, and the area surrounding the grave was littered with glistening petals. Nikolai lay his rose on top of the pile, saying a silent prayer for Magdalena’s family.

“She would have loved this.” Jenna spoke quietly, and Nikolai turned, his breath catching as he looked into her eyes. He’d been wrong to think she was vulnerable, to believe that she was defeated. There was fire in her pale blue eyes, and a need for revenge that Nikolai understood only too well.

“You’re Nikolai, right?” She smiled and took a step toward him, the scent of vanilla hanging in the air as she offered her hand.

“That’s right.” He clasped hands with her, feeling the strength of her fingers and the calloused ridges on her palms.

“I thought so, but my vision wasn’t that great when we last saw each other, and I wasn’t sure.”

“I wondered if you’d recognize me.”

“I almost didn’t. I wasn’t expecting to see you again.”

“I wanted to pay my respects, and I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Thank you. For both things.” She stepped past him, the scent of vanilla stronger as she placed her hand on the lid of the coffin. “She was much too young to die.”

“Isn’t everyone?”

She glanced over her shoulder, offering a sad smile. “I suppose so, but Magdalena really was young. Just thirty. With a young son who needed her.” She shook her head, let her hand fall away from the casket. “It shouldn’t have happened. I want to know why it did.”

“Your brother told me that when we spoke last.”

“And that’s why you’re really here? To make sure I don’t go running off to Mexico in some mad quest for revenge?”

“I already told you why I’m here.”

“And it has nothing to do with the fact that my brother needs to get back to Washington and doesn’t want to leave me here for a few days?”

“He mentioned that, but it’s not my reason for coming.”

“No? So Kane never asked you to play bodyguard when he returns to Spokane?”

“Not in so many words.”

“I knew it. I’m going to have to have a talk with that brother of mine.” She would have walked away, but Nikolai put a hand on her arm, holding her in place. Despite the fire in her eyes and the calluses on her hands, she was very thin, her bone structure fine. He loosened his grip, not wanting to bruise her.

“Your brother simply asked me to check in on you a few times while you were in Houston. Since I live just a few miles from the hotel, it wasn’t an unreasonable request.”

“You don’t need to check in on me at all, Nikolai. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“That’s what I told your brother.”

“Yet you’re still here.”

“Would you rather I not have come?”

She frowned, smoothing a hand over her hair, her thick bangs parting to reveal the fading bruise on her forehead. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. Too many people asking too many questions that don’t make sense, I guess. But, then, none of this makes sense.” She gestured to the casket. “I still can’t believe she’s gone.”

“How are her husband and son holding up?”

“John is…stoic. There’s been a lot of media attention surrounding the case, and I think he’s trying to keep his emotions in check. Little Benjamin keeps asking when his mother is coming home. I don’t think he can wrap his mind around the word never. He’s too young to understand and too young to retain many memories of his mother.”

“He’ll have you and his father and his family to remind him.”

“Yes. That’s true.” She turned back to the casket, bowing her head, perhaps praying as Nikolai had done. Did she wonder, as he often did, how God could allow good people to die so brutally? Or did she simply accept that the world was a sinful and fallen place and that tragedy was not limited to those who truly seemed deserving of it?

The wind gusted, blowing rain under the tent and scattering rose pedals across the slick green grass. Jenna shivered. “I guess this is it, then. Goodbye, dear friend.” She kissed her fingers, set them on the casket one last time and turned away.

Nikolai fell into step beside her as she walked away, not speaking, knowing there was nothing he could say that would ease Jenna’s grief.

The silence lasted until they reached the black sedan and the door opened, Kane stepping out into the rain. “Umbrellas are more useful when they’re open, Jen. You’d better get in the car where it’s dry,” he said, nodding a greeting at Nikolai.

“A little rain never hurt anyone,” she responded, not bothering to do as he’d asked. “Will you be coming to the reception, Nikolai?”

“I understood it was only for close friends and family.”

“And their guests. There’s no reason why you can’t be one of mine.”

“It might be best if I leave the family to their privacy.”

“John is expecting 150 people. I don’t think privacy is something he’s worried about. Besides, I had a proposition I’d like to discuss with you.”

“A proposition?”

“A job.”

“What are you talking about, Jenna?” Kane sounded exasperated, and Jenna patted him on the arm.

“Nothing worrisome. I just needed some help doing some research. You said Nikolai does freelance work for you, and I thought he might like an extra job.”

“Does this have something to do with Magdalena?”

“What if it does?” She met her brother’s eyes, the fire back in her gaze.

“The men who killed your friend are dangerous, Jenna. I don’t want you going after them. Leave that to the police.”

“So far, the police haven’t done squat. Will you come to the reception, Nikolai?”

The look Kane sent his way told Nikolai exactly what his answer should be, but he’d never been one to conform to others’ expectations. Obviously, Jenna had a plan for finding her friend’s killer. Obviously, she was going to keep searching until she found someone to help her. Nikolai wasn’t sure he’d be the person to do that, but there was nothing wrong with hearing her out.

“Sure.”

“Good. You can follow us over.” Jenna’s smile was brilliant, and Nikolai found himself smiling in return as she slid into the car and turned to speak to one of the occupants.

“You’re not seriously considering helping my sister,” Kane asked quietly, and Nikolai’s smile fell away.

“It depends on what she needs and what she’s willing to pay.”

“That’s rather mercenary, even for you.”

“It is what it is.” Nikolai shrugged, not at all offended by Kane’s assessment. If he chose to help Jenna, he’d probably do it free of charge. But that was his business and his decision, not something he planned to discuss with Kane.

“She’s been through a lot in the past few years, Nikolai. Don’t make things worse by stringing her along, promising her something you can’t deliver.”

“If I promise her something, I’ll deliver.”

Kane frowned, but didn’t push the conversation any further. He’d been the one, after all, who’d called Nikolai when he couldn’t reach Jenna by phone during her trip to Mexico. He’d been the one to call him and ask him to check on Jenna during her stay in Houston.

“Are you two done? We need to head over to the reception,” Jenna called out from the car, and Kane nodded, shooting Nikolai a hard look as he got in and closed the door.

Nikolai ignored it. He wanted to know Jenna’s plan. Only if he knew it could he be sure that she wasn’t going to put herself right back in the path of danger. He jogged the few yards to his GTO and climbed in, following Kane to an upscale neighborhood on the edge of downtown Houston. Executive homes stood on large lots, their mature landscaping speaking of a well-established community. Dozens of cars lined the street, and Nikolai found a parking spot and waited as the Doughertys got out of their vehicle.

“I’m glad you came,” Jenna called out as she walked toward him.

“It’s not a problem.”

“I’m sure my brother asked you not to.”

“I did not,” Kane said as he and an older couple joined Jenna. “I don’t think you’ve met my parents, Nikolai. Lila and Richard Dougherty, this is Nikolai Jansen.”

“Nice to meet you.” Nikolai offered each a brief handshake.

“We can’t begin to tell you how grateful we are for all you’ve done.” Mrs. Dougherty pulled Nikolai into an unexpected hug, and Nikolai wasn’t sure if he should pull back or let her have her way.

“Mom, give the poor man some room to breathe,” Jenna said, tugging her mother away.

“Sorry, but I’ve been waiting nearly a week to thank you.” Mrs. Dougherty patted his arm, and he smiled. Her eyes were the same pale blue as her daughter’s, and looking at her gave him a glimpse into what Jenna would be like in thirty years.

“There’s no need to thank me. I did what anyone would have, given the chance.”

“You went above and beyond, and we won’t forget it,” Mr. Dougherty added, and Nikolai met his gaze, saw the worry there.

“Why don’t you guys continue your lovefest inside?” Jenna broke in, her cheeks blazing.

“Good idea. Is that the house?” Nikolai gestured to a large Greek Revival that sat far back on a manicured yard.

“Yes.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is,” Jenna agreed, but she didn’t sound like she meant it.

“You don’t like it?” Nikolai walked up the driveway with her.

“It doesn’t seem like Magdalena’s style.”

“What do you mean?”

“Big fancy house, big fancy lawn. She liked simpler things.”

“Yet she lived here.”

“John wanted something larger than the little condo they had downtown. This is the first time I’ve been to the house. The opulence surprised me.” She reached out to ring the doorbell, but before she could, the door opened and a young man ushered them inside.

He took their coats and umbrellas, then disappeared, leaving them standing in a large foyer. Marble tiles gleamed in light from an ostentatious chandelier, and a wide curved staircase led to a second-story landing. Obviously, the doctor and her husband had been doing well financially.

“The reception is in the ballroom,” Jenna said, leading the way through a long hallway.

“A ballroom? I thought ballrooms went out of style a century ago.” Richard Dougherty spoke in a hushed voice as they made their way through wide double doors and into an expansive room.

“Apparently they’re back in style,” Kane replied, but Nikolai wasn’t sure he agreed.

Maybe ballrooms were in vogue, but the cavernous room echoed with the sound of quiet conversation and clinking glassware, and Nikolai couldn’t imagine that such a place would ever be in style. The waitstaff milled around the mourners, offering drinks and finger foods. Off to one side of the room, in a back corner where it was barely noticeable, a poster-sized photo stood on an easel.

“That’s Magdalena. Would you like to see what she looked like?”

“Sure.” He followed Jenna across the room and studied the photo of the dark-haired, dark-eyed woman. “She was lovely.”

“As lovely on the inside as she was on the outside.” A tall dark-haired man moved toward them, his brown eyes meeting Nikolai’s briefly before he turned his attention to Jenna. “I’m glad you made it, Jen. I was worried this all might be too much for you so soon after…” His voice trailed off and he shook his head.

“You know I wouldn’t be anywhere else, John.”

John? As in John Romero, Magdalena’s husband?

Before Nikolai could ask, the other man pulled Jenna in for a hug, keeping his arm around her waist as he met Nikolai’s eyes again. “You must be Nikolai. I was hoping Jenna would ask you to come. I know that if my wife had survived, she would have wanted to thank you for saving her best friend’s life.”

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to save her as well.”

“I am, too, but I know that you did all you could.” John offered a sad smile that didn’t sit well with Nikolai. Something about the guy’s response seemed rehearsed. As if he’d stood in front of a mirror and practiced just the right smile and just the right words.

Then again, his family had been in the spotlight since Magdalena’s death. Some people were jumping to Magdalena’s defense. Others were whispering about the possibility of drug addiction and illegal drug trafficking. Perhaps John merely wanted to avoid more undue attention and was hiding his true emotions because of that.

“How is little Benjamin doing?” Jenna’s mother asked, and John offered a more relaxed smile.

“As well as can be expected. He’s down in the playroom with some of his buddies. My mother and the nanny are watching them.”

“I think I’ll go down and see him.” Jenna stepped away from John’s arm, and Nikolai wondered if the embrace had made her uncomfortable. Did she know John well? Or were they simply two people brought together through their mutual love for Magdalena?

“Would the rest of you like a tour of the house? It was Magdalena’s pride and joy. Showing it off makes me feel a little closer to her.”

The Doughertys were quick to accept the offer, though Nikolai was sure he saw tension in Kane’s shoulders as he walked away. Maybe he, too, sensed something phony about Magdalena’s husband.

And maybe Nikolai was looking for trouble where there wasn’t any.

He didn’t join the group following Romero. Instead, he followed Jenna back through the large ballroom and into the corridor. He expected her to find the basement door and retreat to the playroom, but she veered to the left, walking into a large dining room. French doors opened onto a covered patio, and she pushed them open, walking out into the gray day.

She probably wanted to be alone, and Nikolai probably should have respected that. But there’d been something about the look in her eyes when Romero talked about his wife, something about the tension in her face that begged questions.

He crossed the room, walked out onto the patio. Rain pattered against the roof and dripped from the eaves, the sound quiet and soothing. “Did you come out to get away from the crowd or from Magdalena’s husband?”

“Both,” Jenna responded, not turning to look at him.

“You don’t like him?” He walked up beside her, the wind splattering rain across the porch.

“Magdalena loved him.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“I’ve never thought my opinion of John mattered much. He was Magdalena’s husband. He supported her dreams and her humanitarian missions. He’s a good father to their son.” She shrugged.

“But you’ve never liked him.”

“I’ve never not liked him. It’s just that aside from Magdalena, we had nothing in common. Now that she’s gone, we have nothing to say to each other.”

“Has he asked about your time in Mexico?”

“Once, but the details were too difficult for him to hear. Magdalena and Benjamin are his life, and he couldn’t stand to think of Magdalena terrified and hurt.” She shuddered, and Nikolai put a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry for all you’ve been through, Jenna. I know how difficult it is to lose someone you love.”

“Then you’ll understand why I need your help.”

“I understand that you want your friend’s killer to go to jail, but you have to understand that the likelihood of that happening is slim to none.”

“Did you think that’s what I was going to ask you to do? Go after her killer?” She turned and they were inches apart, her hair dark with rain, her skin dewy. Long lashes brushed her cheeks as she blinked, and Nikolai found himself being pulled into her gaze, losing himself in the pale blue of her eyes.

“Is there something else that you need?”

“Magdalena was a woman of faith. She was committed to God, to her family and to humanity in that order. She never, ever would have done anything that would hurt another person. Ever. Now people are talking about her as if all the things she did while she was alive mean nothing.”

“The circumstances of her death were unusual.”

“That doesn’t mean she was guilty of a crime.”

“What is it that you want me to do, Jenna?”

“I want you to prove that Magdalena had nothing to do with the Mexican Panthers.”

“That’s a tall order.”

“You seem like the kind of person who would be up for the challenge.”

Nikolai could have said no. He’d said it before to other people in other situations. As sorry as he felt for Magdalena’s family, he could have walked away, let things play out however they would. It was the responsibility of the Mexican police and the DEA to uncover the truth about why Magdalena had been executed.

He could have said no, but he’d always liked a challenge, and he’d always had a passion for the truth. And he found he couldn’t look in Jenna’s eyes, couldn’t see the sorrow there and deny her request.

“I can’t promise you anything.”

“I don’t need promises.”

“Then I guess I’m your man,” he said, before he could think better of it.

“Thanks.” Jenna smiled, shivering again as the wind blew more rain under the porch.

“Thank me after I’ve done the job. Come on. We’d better go in before you freeze.” He took her hand, started to lead her back to the door. A sharp crack split the air, and Nikolai dove for cover, grabbing Jenna by the waist and pulling her down, covering her body with his as another crack followed the first. Dirt and grass flew into his face, water and mud splashing into his eyes. He blinked it away, scanning the area beyond the porch. Trees lined the back edge of the property, and he was sure he saw someone there.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” Someone called out from the house, and the figure in the trees moved away.

“You okay?” Nikolai looked down into Jenna’s face.

“I will be once I can breathe again.”

“Sorry.” He stood, searching the tree line again, tracking the figure. “Go in the house, okay?”

“What—”

“Have someone call the police. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Nik—”

He didn’t wait to hear what Jenna said. The shooter had disappeared, and if Nikolai planned to catch him, the time for doing so was now.

And he did plan to catch him.

Jenna had escaped death in Mexico, but it seemed that it was hunting her again. Why?

It was a question only the gunman could answer, and Nikolai had every intention of making sure he did.

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