Dead End (21 page)

27

“Here. Catch.” Annie stood on the back steps of Evan’s townhouse and tossed him a bottle of water.

“Thanks,” he said, catching it in one hand. “The sun is brutal today.”

She looked up and squinted. “I don’t think this is a good time to be planting roses. We’re better off waiting until later in the day, when the sun drops down a little. I read someplace that you’re not supposed to plant in the heat of the day.”

“Hey, that works for me.” He jammed his shovel into the overturned dirt in the flower bed they’d spent the morning preparing and wiped his brow with the hem of his T-shirt. “I’d just as soon wait until it gets a little cooler.”

“We can still finish getting the bed ready, dig the holes, put in that stuff you bought that’s supposed to be good for the roots.”

“Or we could wait until later and do everything when it cools off.” He grinned hopefully.

“I say we dig now, plant later.” She walked to the side of the yard, where four rosebushes stood, still in their black pots, in the shade. “The poor rosebushes have already been waiting an extra week to be planted. It’s a miracle they’re still alive.”

“They look awfully comfortable there, in the shade. Are you sure we should move them?” Evan opened the water and took a long drink.

“It’s going to be overcast tomorrow morning, then rain for the rest of the weekend. Planting them tonight will be perfect.”

He took another drink, then replaced the plastic cap and set the bottle on the fence, between pickets, where it tottered unsteadily.

“I am worried, though, about them drying out while we’re in Santa Estela.” Annie frowned.

“Maybe I can get Amanda to stop out a few times during the week to water them.”

“Good idea.” Annie pulled her hair back behind her ears and looked for the container of root food she’d left near the fence.

“How do you think that’s going to go, meeting the girls’ parents?” she asked.

“I hope it goes okay, at least with two of the families.” He leaned on the handle of the shovel. “The police suspect that the third girl, the one who still hasn’t been identified, was probably sold by her family in the first place. They aren’t likely to come back now and claim the body.”

“Maybe by the time we get down there, they will have.” She pulled on her gardening gloves and tossed a handful of granules into the first hole Evan had dug.

“I still can’t get over John pulling all those strings, getting the locals down there to start showing the girls’ pictures around until they located the families. Arranging for the bodies to be transported back to Santa Estela, and for us to accompany them . . .”

“John understands how important it is for you to take them home, sweetie. And if you want to look beyond that, I think it’s important for the new government down there to assure the people that every effort is being made to find their lost children and to bring them home. It’s a brilliant PR move on the part of the new president of Santa Estela, and a goodwill gesture on the part of our government.”

“For whatever reason, I’m grateful. And I’m really happy that they’re sending Don Manley as well. He’s so grateful for the chance to go, to take his vics back. It was good of John to suggest it. If it weren’t for Don’s girl, and the little vial of bean seeds around her neck, we never would have been able to put this all together.”

“That’s what happens when everyone pools their info. Things get done.” She smiled and added, “I’m really looking forward to the trip. I just know this will be something I’ll always remember.”

“Yeah, real romantic vacation.” Evan stopped digging and looked at her almost apologetically. “Ten days in a hot, steamy, third-world country whose most lucrative export is its kids. With luck, maybe we’ll even get some mosquito netting for our tent. Maybe the piranhas will be migrating and we’ll be able to get in a swim.”

“It’ll be the best vacation either of us ever had, you wait and see.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. “We’ll still be talking about this when we’re old and gray. You will always have the memory of having returned those children to their families, to be buried with love and respect. I’m proud of you, that you cared enough to take that on when no one else seemed to give a damn about them.”

“John said something like that when he offered me the job.”

“Are you still thinking about that?”

“No. Right now, I’m thinking about planting a garden with my best girl, and taking a trip with her through a snake-infested jungle. I’ll think about the job offer when we get back.”

“Fair enough.” She gave him a tap on the butt before getting back to work, measuring another spoonful of fertilizer and dumping it into the next hole.

“Two more,” she told him, pointing to the rest of the plot, where holes had not as yet been dug.

“Here?” he asked, the shovel poised to dig, and she nodded.

“Hey,” he said, “while I dig these last two holes, why don’t you plant those geraniums in that big planter at the end of the deck?”

“Wouldn’t you rather wait until you finish the deck?” She frowned. “If I plant this up now, you’ll have to carry it up onto the deck, and it’s going to be heavy.”

“No big deal.” He shrugged. “Just go on and plant the flowers, we’ll worry about moving it later.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

Annie carried the pot of geraniums and ivy to the large planter Evan had left at the foot of the deck, and poured in a bag of potting soil. Next she pulled the plants from their pots and started to transplant the ivy. When she started on the geraniums, he heard her exclaim, “Oh.”

She looked at him from across the small yard.

“There’s a little box in the bottom of the geranium pot.”

“Is there, now?” He stuck the shovel into the dirt and started walking toward her. “Well, maybe you should open it.”

She shook the small dark blue box from the pot and opened it.

“Evan,” she said softly, meeting his eyes as he walked toward her. “Evan.”

“What do you think, Annie?” he asked. “Think it’s time to make it legal?”

She nodded.

“Well then, let’s see if it fits.” He took her hand, then took the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger. “What do you think? Does it fit all right?”

“It fits perfectly.” She had not taken her eyes from his face.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

“You haven’t even looked at it.”

She looked at her hand, at the simple gold band with the round diamond and nodded. “It’s perfect. I love it.”

“So, I guess this means yes?”

“This means yes.”

He gathered her in his arms and kissed her.

“Will this get me out of digging for the rest of the afternoon?”

“Probably not”—she laughed—“but it might get you a bonus at the end of the day.”

“I like the sound of that.” He kissed her again, then said, more seriously, “I’m thinking a Christmas wedding might be really nice, you know? All those red flowers they always put in the church—”

“Oh! Bad timing on my part. Sorry, guys.”

Annie and Evan looked up to see Grady Shields walking down the drive that ran behind the house.

“Hey, Grady,” Annie called to him. “This is a surprise.”

“Yeah, well, I just wanted to drop by to see you before I left. I wanted to thank you and Evan for what you did to bring that bastard Luther Blue in.” He turned to Evan. “The only thing I’m sorry about is that you didn’t blow his head off when you had the chance. He’s still trying to make deals, you know that? Still offering to give up other members of the kidnapping and trafficking ring in exchange for a reduced sentence.”

“Maybe the feds will offer him something on the kidnapping, but he’ll still have to face murder charges in Montana,” Annie assured him. “I spoke with Sheriff Brody a few days ago. I had promised I’d call if we found Melissa’s killer. He understands the situation very well, but he’s willing to wait his turn to prosecute Luther for Melissa’s death. He won’t be getting away with it, Grady. It may take a while, but he will stand trial in Montana.”

“That’s the first good news I’ve had since this started,” Grady said. “Maybe I’ll still be out there when that day comes.”

“You’re going to Montana?” Annie asked.

“Melissa left the property to me. At first I thought I couldn’t live in the house where she died. Then I started remembering all the good times we had there, and I was thinking maybe it would help her spirit to rest if I went back for a while. Maybe it would help my spirit, as well, to be with her.” He shrugged. “I can’t think of anyplace else to go right now.”

“Are you taking a leave, then?”

“I talked to John yesterday, he told me to go. He’ll take care of the paperwork for me, send me what I need to sign. Told me just to keep in touch, let him know when I want to come back.”

“I hope you do, Grady,” Annie told him sincerely. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” He gave her a quick hug, then offered his hand to Evan. “Take care of her, Crosby.”

Evan merely nodded.

Grady took a few steps backward, then let himself out of the gate. He walked to the end of the drive, then turned once to wave before disappearing behind the corner house.

“He looks terrible,” Annie said.

“He’s lost the woman he loved. I’d look terrible, too, if anything happened to you. It just reminds me to cherish each day, to never take it for granted.” He paused, then said, “If I take the job John offered, the main reason would be so that we could be together every night, instead of this crazy commuting back and forth.”

“You’re not going to think about it until we come back from Santa Estela, remember?” Annie reminded him. “I think you should stick to that. Besides, there are other things we need to talk about, as far as the trip is concerned.”

“Like how to tell the parents what happened to their daughters.” Evan grew sober again. “How to tell them why they had to die.”

“Maybe it will give them some solace to know that they never accepted the horrible things that had been done to them, that they’d been unwilling participants. And that they died because they would not stop fighting, they would not cooperate, isn’t that what Joe Sullivan told the D.A.? That these girls were killed as an example to the others?”

“Bastard. I still can’t get over him getting involved in something like this. I can’t reconcile the Joe Sullivan I knew all these years with the man who participated in any way in prostituting young girls . . .” Evan shook his head. “And for the worst of reasons.”

“It’s not the first time a man sold his soul for money, and it won’t be the last.” She put her arms around him. “Just be grateful you were able to put a stop to it.”

“This was just the tip of the iceberg, Annie. You know that.”

“But at least that tip was cut off,” she told him.

He appeared to be about to say something when his phone rang.

“Crosby,” he answered, listened for a few minutes, then said, “Give me fifteen minutes.”

He snapped the phone shut and turned to Annie. “That was Malone. They found two bodies in a boarded-up house down on Longwood. A couple of transients, it looks like, and I—”

“Go. I’ll be here when you get back.”

“Annie, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Go.”

“I guess I should run upstairs and get cleaned up, get out of these dusty clothes.” He looked around the yard, at the half-dug bed and the plants sitting here and there. “I hate to leave you with this mess.”

“Don’t give it another thought. I’ll finish up out here.”

“Are you sure? I’ll probably be gone for at least the rest of the afternoon.”

“It’s okay. Go on and do what you do.” She kissed him and turned him in the direction of the house. “I’ll be here when you get home . . .”

She watched him take the steps two at a time, knowing that his mind was already on the crime scene and what he would find there. It was what he did, and who he was.

Annie wouldn’t have had him any other way.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

M
ARIAH
S
TEWART
is the bestselling author of numerous novels and several novellas. She is a RITA finalist for romantic suspense and is the recipient of the Award of Excellence for contemporary romance, a RIO (Reviewers International Organization) Award honoring excellence in women’s fiction, and a Reviewers’ Choice Award from
Romantic Times
magazine. A native of Hightstown, New Jersey, she is a three-time recipient of the Golden Leaf Award and a Lifetime Achievement Award from the New Jersey Romance Writers, and has been inducted into their Hall of Fame. Stewart is a member of the Valley Forge Romance Writers, the New Jersey Romance Writers, Novelists, Inc., the Romance Writers of America, and International Thriller Writers. She lives with her husband, two daughters, and two rambunctious golden retrievers amid the rolling hills of Chester County, Pennsylvania.

BY MARIAH STEWART

Cold Truth

Hard Truth*

Dark Truth*

Dead End

Dead Certain

Dead Even

Dead Wrong

Until Dark

The President’s Daughter

*Forthcoming

Dead End
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2005 by Marti Robb

All rights reserved.

Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

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