trembled at the thought. She couldn’t shoot anyone. “I can go to the police, to the papers.”
He shook his head. “No. Don’t you understand? Simon is different. We don’t have time to get into the details now.” The sound of a car backfiring in the distance jarred them both, and he opened the door. The baby stirred inside the black interior. Paul gave him a sad look, a vein throbbing in his forehead. “If you go public, Simon won’t have a chance. Every researcher across the world is going to want their hands on him for testing. And think of the press, labeling him, dogging him his whole life.”
He was right. “Then I have to run.”
Polenta nodded, then took one long look at her, regret, confusion, resignation in his eyes. The envelope crinkled in her hands as he released it. “You can trust Eric Caldwell, he’s an old friend of mine. He works with a monastery that helps abused women obtain new identities. They can make you invisible.” He scrubbed his hand over his neck. “But watch out for his brother. He’s a local cop, ex-military, with some kind of medical background. He might be trouble.”
She nodded, got in the car and started the engine. “What about you, Paul?”
He placed a shaky hand on her bruised cheek. “Don’t worry about me. Just take care of Simon.” He murmured some phrase in Spanish she didn’t understand, kissed his fingers, then touched them to her hand. “God be with you.”
Alanna gave him a last, soulful look, then put the car into gear and sped off.
Just as she exited the alley, the building exploded behind her.
Lake Lanier, Georgia
The next morning
CAIN CALDWELL PROPPED a booted foot against the doorjamb in his brother’s small cabin, well aware Eric seemed to be in a hurry. Early morning sunlight settled over the dark room, highlighting his brother’s gray expression. Eric was throwing together a suitcase, the bare essentials strewn across his oak bed, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. “Dammit, Eric, just tell me if you know anything about Charlene Banks.”
“I told you I didn’t,” Eric said irritably. “And if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. You’d probably hunt her down and arrest her instead of that sorry-ass old man of hers who beats her every other day.”
Cain gritted his teeth. Damn his little brother’s vigilante ways. Eric had a good heart, but his methods weren’t always on the up-and-up. The very reason Cain had had to stop by. Official police business.
He jammed his hands in his pockets, forcing himself to study Eric’s reaction as he made the announcement. “Her sorry-ass husband is dead.”
Eric hesitated, but only for a split second, before he threw his head back and laughed. “Nice present for her. I hope he suffered like hell.”
Cain silently agreed. But he was a cop, and he lived his life by the law. He had to think in terms of black-and-white, not shades of gray, as his brother did. “Look, my captain suspects you’re running some covert operations here. I can’t keep covering for you.”
“Covering for me?” Eric stabbed his cigarette into an empty cola can, stuffed his laptop into a black leather case, then slung the strap over his shoulder. “Is that what you call hauling my butt in for questioning three times this year?”
“They were all legitimate cases. What choice did I have?” Cain’s patience snapped. “I know you’re helping abused women find cover, which is not a bad thing, but what about that drug dealer who disappeared?”
“I don’t know anything about him,” Eric argued. “Don’t you have something better to do than harass me, like look for some real crooks?”
Cain clenched his jaw. “Where’s the witness in the Bronsky case, Eric?”
“What?” Sarcasm laced Eric’s voice. “Did the police lose another witness?”
“We do the best we can. Do you know where he is?”
“Can’t help you, bro.”
“You can’t go around undermining the cops and the FBI, Eric, or killing every criminal who escapes the system.”
His brother glared at him, blue eyes blazing. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
Cain swallowed. Why did he even try? They would never see eye to eye. Yet he loved him all the same.
“I just don’t want to see you get in trouble. It’s like you’re on a death mission, taking everything into your own hands. One day you’re going to cross the wrong people.”
“Like you don’t cross the wrong kind of people all the time.” Eric grabbed his keys off the battered dresser and strode toward the door.
“It’s not the same thing. I’ve got people covering me. You’re on your own.”
Eric hesitated momentarily, his shoulders squared. “You could quit the force and help me. Make it your New Year’s resolution.”
“New Year’s has come and gone.” Their gazes locked briefly and Cain’s stomach clenched. Eric was serious.
But Cain could not straddle the line. He had sworn to uphold the law and do it honestly and he’d die trying to do just that. “You could join the force, make enforcing the law your focus.”
“I guess we’ve hit that impasse again,” Eric said quietly.
Cain clamped down on his jaw and shook his head, frustrated and worried. “Watch your back. If you get in trouble—”
“Then you’ll be there to help me.” A cocky grin slid on his brother’s face. “Now, I’d love to stay and argue politics, but I gotta go.”
Cain caught him by the arm before he could fly past. “Where are you going?”
Eric stared him down hard, the dark emotions in his eyes a reminder of the bond they’d shared growing up. The painful memories—the awful fights in his house, the night their mother had given up and committed suicide.
Eric had only been ten. The police had let them down then, the very reason he justified using his own methods. The reason he refused to work with the police.
But Cain had done the opposite—he’d made enforcing the law his life.
“I have business to take care of,” Eric said in a quiet voice. “Legitimate business with the ranch.”
Cain studied him for a long moment, then finally nodded, although he didn’t believe him for a second. He released him anyway, then stood in the doorway and watched while Eric threw his bag over his shoulder, stalked down the long driveway behind his cabin to the lean-to he’d built as a carport for his Jeep. Eric had built the cover near the woods so the sun wouldn’t blister his new paint job. Ironic, since the Jeep would take a mud bath going through the north Georgia mountains to get to his ranch. If that was where Eric was really going.
Dark clouds rolled in, obliterating the fledgling rays of sun. The wind howled off the lake, like it had the day his mother had taken her own life.
Her
