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It had been far too long since he’d had a close relationship with any woman. He’d been undercover so much, sometimes it was even hard to remember who he was. Relationships based on honesty and commitment were something he couldn’t give.
Not even here, over eight hundred miles from Dallas...because one slip might make it easier for El Cazador to follow him.
“Thanks.” He eased Katie into Dana’s arms.
He’d expected Katie to cry even louder, twist in her arms and reach for him, but Dana matter-of-factly set her on the floor, bent down and took her hand. “Only girls can go in this special bathroom. It’s way too pretty for the boys.”
A final, giant sob racked Katie’s thin frame. She gulped, then nodded shyly and allowed herself to be led inside. Through the door, Zach could hear the singsong of Dana’s silly chatter, then the sounds of splashing in a sink and the rustle of paper towels.
He imagined her married to someone else. Caring for her own toddlers, making a perfect life for herself in this town...and felt an aching hollowness in his heart for all he’d missed over the years by not finding the right woman and settling down.
In a few minutes they reappeared. Katie’s tears had been washed away and now she wore a tentative smile.
“We girls,” Dana announced, “think that bathroom is pretty. Right?”
Katie nodded slowly, her outburst apparently forgotten.
“Thanks for the help,” he said quietly.
“Anytime.” Dana gave Katie a wink, but when she looked up at Zach, her expression was blank. “I’ll...send Francie over with some household things to help you out tonight.”
Before he could answer, she’d moved between the crowded tables and sat down to her lunch.
“Let’s go, honey.” He took Katie’s hand and stepped out into the bright sunshine, resolutely shutting away his memories. What mattered now was keeping this child safe.
Prior to leaving Dallas, he’d made some calls. With luck, the electricity and internet would be hooked up, and he’d have everything unloaded and in the house by supper.
The fact that he’d lived in Fossil Hill during his senior year of high school should satisfy any local curiosity about his decision to return. He and Katie could settle in for a few months while he recuperated, unless Janet turned up to claim her.
He looked down at the child’s blond curls, at the trusting way her little hand fit inside his own, and felt his heart expand until it barely fit in his chest.
At first he’d been overwhelmed by the unfamiliar task of caring for his niece. But now, if Janet simply showed up and didn’t have a logical excuse for disappearing—and at this point, only amnesia would be close to acceptable—it was going to be impossible to give Katie back.
He’d fight for custody in court if it came to that.
* * * *
SUPPRESSING THE INSTINCT to spin around and check behind him, El Cazador stopped at the Holy Mother of God Church on West Fifth and made his way down the hushed, darkened aisle to light candles for the dead.
He smiled when an elderly priest shuffled past, feeling suddenly powerful. Invincible. No one knew his secrets. No one could stop him.
Lingering odors of incense and furniture polish and musty old parishioners filled his nostrils, bringing back a thousand memories of childhood.
The ill-fitting suits his grandmother had made him wear every Sunday. The endless homilies, during which he tried to count the sections in the ornate stained-glass windows that rose three stories to the cavernous ceilings above. The sharp toe of her lace-up shoes connecting with his tender ankle bone if she caught him daydreaming. She was dead and buried now, God rest her soul. At least she hadn’t lived to see the disgrace of the family name.
He crossed himself, then stepped into a pew, pulled down the kneeler and dropped his head in silent prayer. Help me bring back our honor...
Because of a traitor in the family organization, it had been ten years, four months, and twenty-three days since he’d had the freedom to walk these streets, and he’d spent every minute of that sentence planning his revenge.
With his computer skills, he’d once been a valued part of the family business, but he’d lacked his older brother Eduardo’s courage and threatening presence. That failing had never weighed heavier than on the day he’d stood helplessly by, his trembling hands in the air, while Eduardo and their father chose to fight back and were killed in a DEA raid on their warehouse at Fiftieth and Balster.
They’d been murdered in cold blood—shot like animals before his eyes, and he’d only been able to watch in horror.
The reproach in Eduardo’s eyes as he lay dying had been a constant nightmare these past years; and seeking retribution for the slaughter had become an obsession that stole sleep and dominated every waking hour. The silent vow he’d given Eduardo became his constant litany. I’ll avenge you both—and see justice done.
Unfortunately, he’d made a slight miscalculation—he’d murdered a man after intimidating him into revealing the identity of the traitor, and there had been witnesses, though the shadows in the alley had probably concealed his identity.
The others had disappeared, but finding and tracking down the lone woman and her kid had been a stroke of pure luck. Surely, a sign that Eduardo was watching him from above and demanding vengeance. Then she and her kid had slipped from his grasp...for now. But not for long.
