Slow Heat (43 page)

“I wanted my job back first; then I would get a nice little home in the same neighborhood as Maggie’s, so she’d feel safe. Father, I know it’s blood money, but I figured I could pay cash for a house. I have quite a few bank accounts with quite a bit of money in them. Maggie and I wouldn’t have money problems and would always be happy.”

Micah was sitting in the pew facing Father Charles. Maggie could see him behind the statue of Mother Mary, who was hiding her from them. Maggie wasn’t positive the statue wouldn’t fall over and reveal she was there. She really shouldn’t keep eavesdropping.

“It wasn’t hard finding my boss. They were hunting down a fugitive and chasing him through Old Shumba Creek.”

Father Charles shook his head and clucked his tongue. Maggie had no idea what he was thinking at the moment, but he sat sideways in the pew, his back to Maggie, and listened intently as Micah continued.

“When I saw that the guy was going to shoot Haley King, Greg King’s wife—they own KFA together,” Micah explained.

“Ahh,” Father Charles said.

“Old instincts kicked in. They aren’t even really old. They are part of who I am. I shot the guy. I couldn’t let him shoot Haley. As I was aiming the gun, I adjusted my kill spot slightly so my bullet wouldn’t go through the guy’s heart. King had repeated many times how we always brought them in alive. But that is when the revelation hit me. I was a murderer. I know it’s clear to you that I am. Maggie knows I am. But I was obviously in denial. Not only was I a murderer but I had been the instigator the first time I killed a man. No one made me do it. I insisted on it. It wasn’t until I left Old Shumba Creek that I knew I would have to conform with or without Maggie in my life. I couldn’t change who I was just for her. I had to change for me.”

“You’ve already changed, son.”

“Huh?”

Father Charles put his hands over Micah’s and squeezed. Micah looked down at the priest’s hand over his.

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son.”

Micah looked up at Father Charles, his eyes wide.

“And of the Holy Spirit.”

The side door at the opposite end of the church opened and a uniformed police officer entered.

“You are absolved of your sins,” Father Charles said.

The door behind her in the vestibule opened. Maggie spun around to see another cop enter. Through the space between the back of the statue of Mother Mary and the wall, Maggie spotted a third cop walking down the far aisle.

Father Charles stood. Micah did as well, backing out of the pew where the two of them had been sitting.

She heard the main doors facing the street close, causing a dull echo in the church. Others had just entered the church. Her heart sank. There was only one reason so many police officers would enter all at the same time.

She looked around frantically when a young priest appeared in the doorway alongside the altar. Father Charles walked to the front of the pews. She’d never seen her priest’s face look so strained. Maggie swore he appeared torn. He had liked Micah. She was sure of it. And Micah’s confession had been so heartfelt and so real.

Maggie only imagined how much better Micah had probably felt talking about all the terrible things he’d done. He had been an assassin. Micah had come to God, to her priest and in her church, to reveal his tainted and bloodstained past. He had voiced out loud his many crimes. They were things he probably would never share with her.

Now he was forgiven. There wasn’t any bringing back the people he’d killed. Most towns where the people Micah had assassinated lived were probably happier now with whoever it was dead. That didn’t excuse Micah’s crimes, but he had known that. He hadn’t asked for forgiveness and decided to walk away from his old life for her. He’d changed his ways so he could truly be happy.

Maggie had every intent of being happy with him.

She didn’t have a plan. There was only one thought on her mind. She would not lose the man she loved.

Maggie marched out from behind the statue hoping no one would notice she’d been standing there. “Thank you, Father Charles,” she said in a hushed tone just as the officer who’d entered from the school entrance vestibule walked up behind her.

Maggie tried for an indifferent look when she glanced over her shoulder, then walked up to Micah. He looked as confused as Father Charles did when she draped her arm around Micah’s. Maggie immediately felt Micah’s strength, the hard corded muscles in his arm where she touched him. There was also a sheen of sweat coating his skin, and it dampened hers.

“Thank you for showing us all the stained-glass windows,” she told her priest, who to his credit was pulling off a wonderful sober expression. She smiled at him and squeezed Micah’s arm. “We both agree they need major renovation and will most definitely contribute whatever amount is necessary to complete the project.”

Father Charles looked at her and Micah and smiled. “That would be wonderful. Now apparently I have other matters to attend to,” he said, nodding to the police officer who was standing close enough to hear their conversation.

Maggie glanced around the church at the other officers, who weren’t approaching but standing in the aisles on opposite sides of the pews. “Something terrible must have happened,” she said, amazed at how calm she was. But she had to be to pull this off, and they weren’t going to take Micah, not now. Not ever!

“It doesn’t look good,” Father Charles nodded soberly and cast worried looks at all of the cops around them. “May God bless you both. Just send the check to the church’s main address. It will be a much-appreciated donation.”

“Come on, dear, the kiddos are waiting,” she said, then genuflected toward the altar.

“I got a phone call from the LAPD dispatch advising us to be on the alert for a man—” the young priest began.

“Excuse me.” The police officer behind Maggie interrupted the younger priest. “We’re looking for a single white male about six feet tall, an assassin.”

Maggie walked down the aisle, her legs trembling badly as panic rose in her. If they could get out of the church and to her car they would be safe. She had to believe that. Micah had all kinds of skills. The trapped look on his face when she first spotted the two officers had left by the time she’d walked up to him. Micah was confused to see her but she had seen how quickly he’d managed to change his expression. His strong, confident walk alongside her and his firm grip on her arm helped her believe.

Micah’s arm was no longer damp. He didn’t hurry down the aisle. Maggie prayed he would never use any of the skills he’d learned to kill ever again for the rest of his life. But she was all for him using them to get the two of them out of the church.

“The bullet used to shoot a man over at Old Shumba Creek came from the same gun used to kill a CIA agent in Washington, DC. This man is armed and very dangerous,” the officer was telling Father Charles and the young priest. “He was spotted leaving Old Shumba Creek on a motorcycle. We’ve confirmed it’s the same motorcycle that is parked out front. We need to search your church, Father.”

They were at the front vestibule. There were two officers at the front doors; another disappeared up the stairs to her right.

“Oh my,” she gasped when they walked past the officers at the entrance and stared at the police cars in the street. “My car,” she continued, and her heart sank into her stomach, which was already so twisted in knots she thought she might be sick.

“It’s okay,” Micah told her calmly. “Hopefully they will move so we can leave, sweetheart.”

He fell right into her unplanned means of escape.

“I hope you’re right. The sitter always gets upset if I get the children late.”

Another officer on the sidewalk was informing two women that there was no cause for concern but to please take all children off the playground. One of the women turned and waved her hand wildly in the air. Immediately a whistle started blowing and teachers began rounding the children up into multiple lines to go inside.

Maggie fumbled with her purse, trying to get her keys out to unlock her door. Micah lifted her purse from her hands, reached into her purse, and pulled out her keys as naturally as if he did it every day. Handing her purse back to her, he pointed the keychain at her car and pushed the unlock button. Her back lights blinked as the car beeped once.

It was enough to alert the officer on the sidewalk. He turned, giving both of them his attention as Micah opened Maggie’s passenger door for her.

“Hey, Frank,” he yelled. “Let these two out, okay?”

Maggie wasn’t sure if she trembled with relief or the sinking knowledge that if Micah were arrested, she could easily go down with him. She doubted any of the cops would let her go after questioning her a second time. Pushing her leather attaché case that had all of her résumés in it to the floor by her feet, she fell into the seat. Her legs began trembling uncontrollably.

“My wife complains about the same thing with our babysitter,” the officer said.

Maggie looked up at him just as Micah closed her door and walked around to the driver’s side. The officer gave her a small nod. Maggie smiled, then looked down at her hands in her lap. Already her knuckles were turning white from being clasped together so tightly.

Micah slid in next to her. The motor started. The air conditioner blasted in her face and against her blouse. They didn’t move. Micah didn’t say a word. Maggie glanced at him and saw how tightly he held the gearshift between them.

It seemed an eternity that they sat there. Maggie wanted to reach to lock the doors but was scared any movement she made would draw attention to them. When Micah finally put the car into drive and pulled out from her parking spot, Maggie let out a cry, her entire body imploding as she dropped her head into her hands.

All her fear and panic rushed out of her. But the relief seeped in a lot slower. Were they safe? She dared look up and out the windshield. Micah was driving through the normal amount of traffic. No cop cars were around them. She looked behind them. The police cars in front of Holy Name were still there. No one was coming after them.

Micah turned a corner sharply enough that she fell against him. Maggie grabbed her seat belt when she realized she hadn’t put it on. In her panic to do nothing that might draw attention to them, she’d forgotten her seat belt while surrounded by police.

“Oh my God,” she wailed as laughter and tears hit her at the same time. “I don’t believe it.”

“I don’t, either.”

Maggie looked at Micah. The unreadable mask was gone. Beads of sweat lined his forehead. When he glanced over at her, all the demons she’d glimpsed since meeting him were gone. His eyes were so clear, they were beautiful.

“I told that priest about every murder I’ve ever committed.”

“Your past crimes are forgiven,” she told him and reached out to touch his face. “You walked out of that church with a clean slate, Micah.”

“Maggie, why were you there?”

“My parents are selling our house. I was out driving. I didn’t know what I was going to do with my life. I have no job and soon no place to live. Then I saw your bike at the church.”

“I was cursing my stupidity for parking it on the street where anyone could see it, but now I see it was the best place I could have parked.”

“It’s how I found you.”

“I love you, Maggie,” he said, those clear beautiful eyes warming as he stared at her before turning his attention to the road.

“I love you, too,” she whispered. Her heart damn near exploded when a lone tear slid down his cheek and he smiled at her. “We have a clean slate to write on. Where do we go to create this new life?”

“Anywhere you say as long as we’re together.”

“Somehow you have to send a check to the church. I don’t even have an idea how much you should send.”

“I have another matter I’m going to take care of once we get where we’re going.”

“What’s that?” Maggie put her hand to his cheek to wipe away his tear.

“There’s a kid working at KFA who wants to be a bounty hunter. There are a few obstacles in his way I’m going to take care of for him.”

“Bad obstacles?”

He shot a concerned look at her then nuzzled his face against her hand. “I promise, Maggie, there will never be bad obstacles in our life ever again.”

“Well, I have a full tank of gas,” she said and the fear that had enveloped her disappeared and was replaced with an overwhelming amount of love for the man sitting next to her.

“Where to, my lady?”

“Let’s see how far a tank of gas will get us,” she said, adjusting herself in the seat so she was closer to him. All she wanted was to climb into his arms, but that would have to wait.

“How do the mountains sound to you?”

When she smiled Micah grinned at her again. The visible difference between the man she’d left in that small, broken-down house and the man sitting next to her now made her ache for them to get wherever they were going as soon as possible.

“They sound perfect as long as we’re together.”

“One thing,” he said, glancing at her again as he drove through traffic toward the interstate. “The next time we walk down an aisle in a church it will be after we’ve both said I do.”

“I do,” she whispered, and cuddled into him as he accelerated on to the interstate.

“I love you,” he told her and reached over to take her hand.

“I love you, too, Micah Mulligan.”

Read on for an excerpt

from Lorie O’Clare’s next book

Hot Pursuit

Coming soon from St. Martin’s Paperbacks

Zoey was glad to leave the bookstore before Angelina read whatever was in the envelope from her father. It wouldn’t be good news. With her father, it never was. He was a tyrant and an evil, vindictive man who got pure pleasure out of making others suffer, her in particular. If he mentioned Hector Isley to her one more time, Zoey would scream. Her father had ranted all of her life about how she would marry in the church, which was his way of saying a Catholic Mexican. He and Hector’s father had both decided that their children marrying would create an unbreakable financial dynasty.