Page 79 of Lay Down the Law

“Easy, partner. Don’t go there.”

No false reassurances from Frank, Nick thought bitterly. But then, Frank was a cop. Cops were straight with each other, even in the face of tragedy. Both men knew what kind of man Vic DiCarlo was. Just as they knew what he was capable of.

The thought of a monster like DiCarlo getting his hands on his sweet child filled Nick with rage. The power of that rage stunned him, and for the first time in his life he wondered what he was capable of.

But he knew Frank was right. Letting his imagination run away with him would only make him crazy. He wouldn’t do his daughter any good if he was a basket case. But he was so worried about her he could barely form a coherent thought. He needed to calm down. Think. Come up with a plan.

“Hang tight, partner,” Frank said. “You’ve got my number. Call me if you hear from DiCarlo.”

Nick disconnected, and looked around the room. He grappled for calm, ended up wanting to throw something. He wanted to break something with his bare hands. He wanted to hit something, anything to relieve the tension that had built up inside him like an overheated pressure cooker.

“What have you done with her, you bastard?” he said aloud.

For the first time in his law enforcement career, Nick was at a loss. He didn’t know what to do or where to start. He didn’t know how to get Stephanie back. He’d considered calling in his deputies, but instinct told him to wait. If DiCarlo got spooked, it was hard telling what he would do. But it nearly killed him that he couldn’t do anything but wait.

Sinking into the chair behind his desk, he dropped his face into his hands and closed his eyes. His entire world had come apart in the last hours. First, he’d managed to get tangled up with a woman who would surely leave his life in tatters. Then his beloved child had been taken by a ruthless mafioso.

The urge to call Erin was strong, but Nick resisted it. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but the need to hear her voice was like a living thing inside him. She brought light into his darkness. Feeling into a heart that had numbed itself to emotion. Love into a soul that had been so battered it no longer knew the meaning of the word. He’d made love to her, then let her believe he blamed her for this. He couldn’t imagine how much that had hurt her. Nick figured he was getting pretty good at blaming others for his own shortcomings.

The truth of the matter was none of this was Erin’s fault. Not Stephanie’s kidnapping. Not Rita’s death or his daughter’s spinal condition. Not his own fear of losing his heart.

The fact that Erin meant so much to him added a uniquely cruel twist to his terror. He knew what kind of woman she was. Independent to a fault. Cocky as hell. Too damn willing to put herself in the line of fire because she still believed in right and wrong, and because she still believed one good cop could make a difference.

The irony sent a harsh laugh from his throat. It was a bizarre sound in the stark silence of the office. He couldn’t deny it any longer. He’d fallen in love with her. A cop! A woman with a taste for danger and a reckless streak that ran right down the center of her very pretty back.

At that moment, Nick would have sold his soul to hold her.

Suddenly the need to hear her voice overwhelmed him. He needed her. Erin didn’t have to know he’d fallen in love with her. He didn’t have to tell her. He wouldn’t. As long as he had the strength to walk away when the time came, he’d be just fine.

Snatching up the phone, he dialed the Pioneer Motel.

A sleepy voice answered on the sixth ring.

“Room 135,” Nick snapped.

“You mean the lady cop?”

His heart jolted. He hadn’t identified either of them as cops when he’d checked in. “How do you know she’s a cop?” he asked.

“She commandeered my truck, man. Said there was a police emergency of some kind.”

Nick didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. The terror inside him burgeoned into a monster, breaking free of the shackles of control. “This is Police Chief Nick Ryan. If she’s still there, stop her—”

“Too late, man. She left ten minutes ago.”

Nick should have realized she wouldn’t sit this one out. Not when she felt responsible. Not when he hadn’t bothered to tell her otherwise. Not when she already had two tons of guilt pressing down on her. “What kind of truck?” he asked.

“Blue Chevy, 1985.” The clerk paused. “I am going to get my truck back, right?”

Nick disconnected, then stood abruptly, aware that he was breathing hard. Vaguely, he was aware of the roll of thunder outside. The patter of rain against the window.

She was going after DiCarlo.

Nick couldn’t let her do it. Not alone. She didn’t stand a chance against a man like DiCarlo. Nick couldn’t let her get herself killed. Not the woman he’d come to love more than life itself.

He glanced at the wall clock. Twelve forty-five. Frank wouldn’t arrive for another hour, the FBI sometime after that. If he could find the blue truck…

Not giving himself time to debate, Nick checked his sidearm, snatched up his truck keys and cell phone, and headed for the door.