Angela sighed. “A chaplain, but I had the obligatory combat training. I’m probably best at calling for help.”
“Don’t let her fool you, Dev. All the Gallagher sisters are made of tough stuff.”
“I don’t doubt it, Chief. They put up with you, after all.”
“Funny,” Marco said, as Candace and Angela laughed.
“What’s the code name for Ms. Gallagher?” Dev said.
“It should be Gumdrop,” Angela said promptly. “That was her nickname as a kid.”
Candace groaned. “You know how many years it took to get everyone to forget that nickname?”
“Gumdrop,” Dev said. “Got it.”
Candace glared at her sister.
“It’s better than mine,” Angela said. “Behind my back, they called me Giraffe when I was deployed. Something about my height.”
“Gonna tell them your nickname, Chief?” Dev said, eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Negative, and if you’d like to keep breathing, you won’t, either.”
Dev laughed. “You’re the boss.”
To preempt the question from coming out of Candace’s mouth, Marco said, “How about I cook up some spaghetti for dinner? I have some supplies in the truck.”
“Men who can cook, not bad,” Candace said. “We’ll go set the table.” She shot him a sly look. “But don’t think I’m going to forget about that nickname. I’ll get it out of Dev yet.”
“You’ll get no such intel from me.” Dev zipped his lips, turned an imaginary key and mimed throwing it away before he departed to the kitchen.
Marco watched them go. As he headed for his truck, he tried to breathe away the tension. Candace was safe for the moment, secured in a place where no one could get the jump on them. JeanBeth was under watch and he’d trust Dev and Lon to meet any kind of threat that Rico could toss at them.
So why did he have the tingling feeling, deep down in his gut, that something was about to go very wrong?
* * *
Candace helped Dev with the dishes while Marco did a check of the exterior of the old beach house. When the last dish was dried and put away in the worn wooden cupboards, Dev gave her a sweeping bow and disappeared somewhere. He and Marco would be bunking on sofas in the small downstairs room connected to a dark-paneled den that smelled of old cigars.
Candace, Angela and Tracy would be installed in the bedrooms upstairs, complete with a tiny bathroom and shower where Angela had just taken Tracy for her bedtime preparations.
Candace sighed. She would have to break the news to Tracy very soon that she would not be returning to school for a while. She didn’t look forward to the upset that would ensue. Thank you, Jay Rico, the man responsible for turning our lives upside down.
Fuming, she paced around the living room, perusing dusty bookshelves that held information on every kind of boat imaginable, plus a stack of tattered sailing magazines, while she formulated a plan of her own. She wasn’t about to sit around waiting for her sisters and Marco to figure out how to bring down Jay Rico. As long as she had her laptop, she was fully capable of doing some of her own sleuthing. Pulling a plaid-cushioned chair up to the sturdy table, she began firing up her computer just as Marco came in.
“Working?” he asked.
“Just starting.”
“Goal?”
“I want to know more about Kevin Tooley.”
“Our jailed gas station shooter?” He raised an eyebrow. “Thought our focus was Rico.”
“Rico’s interest in keeping Tooley out of prison seems unusual to me.”
Marco sat next to her, arms folded across the tabletop. “Not to me—he’s a ruthless thug protecting his interests. But I trust your instincts.”
She felt her cheeks warm at the compliment. “Thank you.”
“So tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Rico’s people have been jailed before. One has been in prison for six years. There’s no evidence that I can see that Rico started a campaign of terror to keep any of his other gang family out of prison, yet he’s heavily invested in Kevin Tooley. Don’t you find that strange?”
Marco lifted a shoulder. “Maybe, but I don’t think he’s the most rational guy. He uses intimidation and coercion when he feels the need.”
“Sure, in more important situations. But why in this case? Kevin Tooley is a kid, only eighteen, so he’s obviously not in a position of power in the Pack. Why go to all the trouble to prevent me from testifying against a young kid?
Marco was silent, staring at her, considering. He was weighing her reasons with calm deliberation and the respect gave her confidence to continue. “I want to understand more about Tooley, something to explain why Rico’s interested in this case.”
He nodded. “Okay. I’ll leave the ‘why’ to you. I’m more concerned with how he intends to go about stopping your testimony.”
“It’s not just mine. There are two other witnesses, remember?”
Dev knocked on the door frame with a knuckle. His face was grave and Angela stood next to him.
“Just got some bad news,” she said.
Marco straightened. “Let’s hear it.”
Candace steeled herself for whatever was going to come next.
“Donna heard from Barnes that one of the other witnesses has disappeared,” she said. “They’ve got people out looking, but they think he might have gotten a message from Rico and decided to get out of Dodge.”
Dev rubbed a hand over his thick beard. “Seems like it’s down to one other witness and Gumdrop.”
And then there were two...
Candace fought down the shiver of fear. She would not let him win.
“All right,” she said, forcing her chin high and trying to show her tiger stripes. “So be it.”
Tracy weathered the disappointment of missing church on Sunday with only a minor upset, but when Candace finally had the courage to tell her on Monday morning she would have to skip school for the foreseeable future, the child dissolved into a puddle of tears that wrenched Marco’s heart.
“Why can’t you just find the bad guys, Unco?” she wailed. “I’m gonna miss the play practice today, and tomorrow is library.”
“I am going to find them, kiddo,” he said. “I promise.”
She was only mildly placated by an early morning walk to the beach with Marco, Bear and Candace, where they searched for shells along the quiet stretch of sand. In her enthusiasm, Candace wandered close to the foamy edge of the water, her back to the pristine Pacific, jeans rolled up to her calves. She looked no more than a young girl herself, her laughter carrying over the sound of the surf.
A big wave, powered by the fall breeze, rolled in behind Candace, poised to douse her. Without thinking, Marco took her by the waist and twirled her away from the reach of the salt water. She grabbed his shoulders to keep her balance and clung to him, bringing her so close he could smell the subtle fragrance she always wore, the heady scents of vanilla and cinnamon.
Her curls tickled his face and he reached out to smooth them