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“No,” he said. “It’s not your father’s body that was found. I’m sorry, Rachel, but it was Cleopatra Carlisle’s and Randall Clark’s bodies that were discovered. It’s already been ruled a mob hit by the FBI because of certain calling cards that were left behind at the scene.”
Rachel shook her head in denial and her face paled at the news. And then he watched with admiration as he watched her collect herself. Her voice was stiff and monotone. “Cleo’s husband? Has he been told? I’d like to help with the funeral if possible. We were all very…close.”
Shane was watching Rachel for any signs that she might be close to an emotional breakdown, but other than being cool to the touch, her feelings were buried somewhere deep inside of her. Grief was a mysterious thing. Everyone went through the process differently. But it was that moment he wondered if she’d ever grieved at all, or if she’d always done what he just watched her do—pull herself together.
“Cleo’s husband was away on business, but he’s been notified and is now back in Chicago to see to the funeral arrangements,” he said. “I’m so sorry, Rachel.”
“They were married just last year,” she said. “The last time I talked to her she was excited because they’d decided to try and start a family right away. They were very much in love. They were my friends.” Her voice cracked on a sob, but she choked it down ruthlessly.
“I’m so sorry, Rachel. I wish…”
“And what about Randy?” she interrupted. “He doesn’t have any family left living. His parents died when he was twelve, and he was raised by a grandmother. Do you think the FBI would let me make the arrangements for his mass once we get out of hiding? He was Catholic, and he’d want things to be done properly.”
“I’m sure something can be arranged,” Shane said. “It will be a few days before his body is released.” He didn’t bother to remind her that they were wanted and if she showed her face in the light of day she’d end up in jail or worse.
“Good,” she said, extricating herself from his hold and wiping her damp hands on her jeans. “I appreciate you telling me the truth. I know it can’t have been easy for you.” She got up from the couch and he watched her closely. “I think I’m going to lie down for a little while. I haven’t slept well the last few nights and I’m exhausted.”
If it hadn’t been for the fine tremors in her hands as she rose, Shane would have let her go. She was holding on by a very thin thread, and she was going to wait until she was alone to break.
“Rachel,” he whispered, taking hold of her hand and pulling her back down.
“No, Shane, just let me go. I need to be alone.” And then her voice broke on a sob and she collapsed into his open arms.
“It’s all right, sugar. Just let it all out.” He held her tightly and stroked her hair while her anguish washed over him in waves. He whispered words of love and compassion in her ear, but she was too far gone to understand the significance.
“It’s my fault. All my fault,” she repeated over and over again.
Her tears soaked his shirt and he knew there was nothing he could do to take away the burden of her guilt. She’d realize soon enough that her uncle would have found a way to hurt her, whether she’d kept in touch with her friends or not.
The tears slowed, though her breath stayed ragged. “They’re all gone,” she said. “I have no one left. My family and friends, all destroyed because of a choice my father made. One decision that altered the course of so many lives.”
He wanted to tell her she wasn’t alone and that she never would be, but he knew now wasn’t the time or place. “Not all choices are easy, Rachel, and there are consequences that each choice brings. You can’t fault your father for wanting to do the right thing.”
“No, I can’t fault him, but I have to place the blame somewhere. On someone. I can’t even think of what’s left for me. The hurt just runs too deep. I’m numb with it.”
Shane knew only too well how personal pain numbed the soul. There was only one remedy. Time. He held her in his arms for what might have been hours. If he could have taken the pain away he gladly would have, but life didn’t work that way.
Her breathing changed and he realized she’d fallen asleep in his arms.
“You’re not alone,” he whispered against her temple. “You have me. And I’m not going anywhere.”
She nestled against him and he lifted her in his arms and took her to the bedroom. It was time for him to take care of her.
* * *
“How long have I been asleep?” Rachel asked, covering her eyes with her hands. “Why is the light on?”
“So you’re a grumpy riser,” Shane said. “Good to know for the future. You’ve been asleep sixteen hours, and your coffee is on the nightstand.”
She growled and squinted at him, making him chuckle.
“I would have let you sleep longer, but I figured you needed to use the bathroom and get something in your stomach. We need to be ready to move when Jones gets back.”
Rachel grunted and swung her legs out of bed and headed toward the bathroom without uttering a word. When she came back she picked up the steaming coffee mug and crawled back under the covers.
“How do you know how I like my coffee?” she asked, testing the temperature with her tongue.
“I pay attention to details,” he said. “That’s kind of my job. I also know you like quick showers in the morning and long baths at night. You overtip delivery guys and you love fried rice and orange chicken—sometimes they deliver to my place by mistake—and you love romantic arias, though you can’t sing to save your life. You buy fresh flowers at least once a week and you’ve got a green thumb. The plants on your balcony attest to that. You’re generous with your money. You like to give to the street performers, even when they’re not good. And you were kind enough to leave a saucer of milk outside when 2B’s cat had kittens in the shrubs.”
