Chapter 21
“Just listening,” Rafe said as Blaine came up beside him. “Making sure I didn’t miss anything.”
“I doubt you did,” Blaine said. “That thing sounded like a berserk sledgehammer before.”
“A quick test drive and she’ll be mobile again.” Rafe glanced toward the house. “You two okay?”
“We had a fairly civil conversation, if that’s what you mean.”
“Good start.” He walked over to the driver’s door. “Thought I’d go throw some gas into it. It’s pretty low.”
“She’s worried about paying for all this,” Blaine said frankly, “so let me give you—”
Rafe cut him off with a shake of his head. “You’re Foxworth clients now.”
“But that can’t include vehicle maintenance. Not to mention the price of gas here.”
The former sniper smiled. “It can if the Foxworth agent in charge says so. And right now that’s me.”
Blaine studied him for a long, silent moment before saying, “Man, no wonder you like this job.”
“I do,” Rafe agreed. “It’s the best thing—”
He stopped as the door opened behind them.
Erin stepped outside. Blaine braced himself.
He didn’t really regret that parting shot, since it was pure truth, but he didn’t expect to walk away unscathed.
Although as he watched her come toward them, she did not look like someone looking for payback.
In fact, she looked like someone barely hanging on. And that got his gut churning.
Just as she reached them Rafe’s phone rang. He looked at it, and answered so quickly Blaine figured it had to be his lady or his boss. Boss, he decided, when Rafe explained to the caller about what the pet store video had shown them, that as of yesterday Ethan was still okay and still local.
If it had been the brave lady he would have walked away to give the guy some privacy. Or to avoid hearing him talking to the woman he loved, and who still loved him despite whatever it was that had pulled them apart?
Rafe was listening now. Then he said, sounding a little surprised, “He doesn’t have to—” He stopped, and for a moment closed his eyes. Then, quietly, in a tone of utter respect Blaine doubted he gave many, he said, “Yes, sir…thank you.”
The call ended and Rafe looked at them. “Let’s go inside. We have a couple of things to talk about.”
He leaned in and shut off the car, then handed Erin back her keys. “It sounds…new,” she said.
“Should run better. I wasted some gas doing it, so we’ll top it off later,” Rafe said as he headed for the office door. The guy had learned some tact along the way, and he wondered if the lady had managed that.
Maybe she could teach me.
He smothered a sigh as he followed Erin back inside. Rafe walked over to the workstation they’d been using, hit a few keys, but then came back and indicated they should go back to the couch, specifically together, in front of the flat-screen on the wall.
Erin gave him a sideways look, but sat. And feeling he had no other choice, he sat down beside her. Only when he looked up did Blaine realize the flat-screen on the wall had come to life.
“Call coming in in a few,” Rafe explained.
Then he sat down to one side and looked at them both. In the manner of someone giving a briefing, he said, “Quinn’s going to fly Walker back to help. He’s been here long enough now that he’s got some more local contacts. Plus he’s got some special experience that might help.”
“Special experience at…?” Erin asked.
Rafe shifted his gaze to her. “Do you remember that big terrorist sleeper cell the Feds took down a while back? The ones behind those bombings at local arenas in Chicago and Philadelphia?”
“Yes.” Blaine saw she looked horrified, no doubt wondering what that had to do with Ethan. As he was.
Rafe continued. “Remember the civilian they credited with getting all the intel necessary, and saving thousands of lives? The one who just happened onto them, but risked his life and practically lived undercover with them for five years to help take them down?”
“Yes,” she said. “I do. I remember thinking how incredibly brave he was.”
“That guy,” Rafe said with more than a touch of wonder himself, “was Walker Cole. My boss’s brother-in-law, his wife Hayley’s brother.”
Blaine stared at him. “The Walker you said runs this office?”
Rafe nodded. “And apparently he’s adapted that undercover experience to where he’s got some connections with the local gangs that have been occasionally…helpful.”
Blaine let out a low whistle. This had to be what Rafe had been so…awed by, when he’d been on the phone with his boss. He himself was a bit awed, that his boss would have somebody drop everything to come back and help a guy he’d never even met. “And he’s coming back here?”
Rafe nodded again. “Should be here by late this evening. Jace—” He stopped and explained to Erin that this was one of the local Foxworth guys, then went on.
“Jace is going to stay there to finish the location search, and Quinn has to head back home, but he’ll drop Walker off on his way, and I’ll go pick him up.
That way I can read him in on the way back. ”
“This Walker…he’s really coming back here to help look for Ethan?” Erin sounded a little stunned.
Rafe looked at her again. “You’re a Foxworth client now. You’ve got the full power of the Foxworth Foundation behind you.”
A sound came from the workstation where the video call from St. Louis had come in.
“Speaking of power,” Rafe said, his mouth quirking slightly. He leaned forward and pulled open a drawer beneath the coffee table in front of them. He grabbed a remote control from inside and aimed it at the flat-screen. It came alive, an image immediately appearing on the screen.
Blaine wasn’t one who followed such things as famous lawyers, and the man on the screen didn’t look quite like he had in the days when the media had so adored him for his gorgeous looks, dramatic presence and his brilliance in the courtroom.
But Blaine still immediately recognized the world-famous Gavin de Marco, if only because he’d recently seen that photograph on the wall here.
The man was less…polished now, his hair a bit longer, a little stubble on his jaw.
And there was no sign of the custom-tailored suits that had made him look as expensive as he no doubt was.
Instead he had on what looked like a long-sleeved Henley-style shirt, as dark as his eyes appeared on the screen.
He also looked a lot less wound up than he had, back in the days not so very long ago. Just as Rafe did. And Blaine couldn’t help wondering if going to work for the Foxworth Foundation had the same effect on everyone. If it did, he envied them all.
Rafe performed quick introductions. Blaine felt a little edgy when the legendary attorney fastened his gaze on him. “I understand we have you to thank for Rafe’s life.”
Feeling a bit awkward as he always did, but even more so now that he had called in that debt, Blaine said simply, as he usually did, “Right place, right time.”
“And the right man,” de Marco said. Then he shifted his gaze to Erin. “You’ve got the best on your side now. They’ll find your boy. I’m just here to talk to you about what happens then. What might arise if there are any legal ramifications.”
“You mean if he’s broken any laws?” Erin asked. “He’s already—”
She stopped abruptly as Blaine tensed. Should they not tell the man that they already knew he’d stolen at least one thing?
“Anything you tell me,” de Marco said, clearly not having missed a thing, “is subject to attorney-client privilege.”
“I don’t care if he’s in legal trouble, as long as he’s home safe,” Erin said flatly.
Blaine nodded in agreement. Inwardly, he was recovering from the little shock that had gone through him when Erin had instantly sensed his concern and stopped midsentence. It had been like the old days, when they’d been so in tune people joked that they could read each other’s minds.
So they told the man everything they could think of, and answered all the questions he asked. Blaine figured the guy was probably pretty adept at hearing what they didn’t say as well. You didn’t reach the heights Gavin de Marco had without being able to read people.
The man on the screen nodded. “All right. I’ve already spoken to Marcus Rockwell, and he’s agreed to help. He served in the Navy himself, and does a lot of work with active and former service members, so he gets it. And if it comes to proceedings, I’ll be there.”
“That oughta do it,” Rafe said, giving the man on the screen a rather crooked smile.
“Might as well use all that fame for something good,” de Marco said.
“As you often have,” Rafe agreed.
“Thanks to Foxworth.” There was such satisfaction in his voice Blaine felt that tug of envy again. “Keep in touch. Oh, and Rafe?” de Marco said with a grin, “Charlie wants to know if you’d mind a red house.”
Blaine saw Rafe pull back slightly, and saw a look that was probably as close to fear as the man ever got. After a moment he grimaced and said, “I’m guessing ‘I don’t care’ isn’t the right answer here.”
“Good call,” de Marco said. “I’d say ‘Depends on the inside,’ would be better.”
“Thanks,” Rafe muttered. De Marco was laughing as the image on the screen clicked off. Rafe glanced over at them. “Time was he could have charged a grand for that one sentence of advice.”
“Given the two options, I’d say it would be worth it,” Erin said, and Blaine was glad to see she was smiling. “That is, assuming Charlie is your lady.”
“Yeah,” he said, and that half smile was back. Then, with a clearly self-directed eye roll he added, “The financial brains behind the whole foundation. Charlaine Foxworth.”
They both drew back in unison. Blaine figured he was gaping, because the last name hadn’t come up before.
“Foxworth?” Erin asked.
“The boss’s sister.”
“Well, that must keep things interesting,” Blaine said, smothering a laugh.
“You don’t know the half of it,” Rafe replied, but he said it with the look of a man totally in love. A look Blaine had once worn.
A look he wished he could have back.