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  “Oh, Callie, I’ve dreamed of this so long.”

  He lifted her again, and this time she wrapped her legs around him. He slid inside her, and she gasped in pleasure, then tried in vain to bite back squeals of ecstasy as he thrust deeper and deeper.

  His breathing quickened and his body grew taut, finally erupting inside her, taking her with him. It was long seconds later before she loosened her legs from around him and he let her feet slide back down to the tub.

  There were questions in her mind, but she didn’t want to ask them now. She didn’t want to talk at all, because there was no way to avoid speaking about the Avenger. And she wouldn’t let this moment be spoiled with talk of death and danger and the demented mind of a man who’d made himself a vindictive God.

  Finally Max broke the soft, sweet silence. “First thing I’ve ever known that was worth an eight-year wait,” he whispered as he reached behind him and turned off the water.

  She stepped out of the tub and reached for a towel. “Let’s not wait that long to do it again.”

  “No. I was thinking eight minutes tops.”

  She’d have been up for that, but eight minutes later, Max was fast asleep. Callie cuddled close. Nothing about her life had changed. She was likely still the next victim on the Avenger’s list. She still feared for Mikki and grieved for Mary, but her heart felt totally different as she let the rhythmic sounds of Max’s breathing lull her to sleep.

  MAX WOKE AT THE FIRST gray light of dawn, immediately conscious of the sweet truth that he’d made love with Callie and that she was lying beside him in his bed. He’d never be able to count the nights he’d lain in this same bed, thoughts of her keeping him awake.

  He’d imagined her as his wife. Even conjured up images of the life they might have had if things had been different. A houseful of kids. Well, maybe not a houseful, but a couple anyway. A boy that he’d teach to fish and play baseball. A girl that he’d—actually, he’d never figured out what he’d do with a little girl except give her hugs and hold her on his shoulders to watch the Fourth of July and the Christmas parades go by.

  Stupid dreams that never had a chance of coming true, since he and Callie came from different worlds.

  Not that she was a snob in any sense of the word. But when the newness of the relationship wore off and the passion cooled, the differences between them would become all too obvious.

  But tonight none of that seemed to matter. Callie was here and she was safe and alive. He could hear her breathing and feel the warmth of her body. He snuggled closer and let his right hand creep across her to cup her breast. Desire hit again with such force he felt as though his heart might jump right out of his chest.

  He let the flat of his hand slide down her abdomen until his fingers tangled in the curly hairs at the apex of her thighs. She squirmed in her sleep and gave a slight moan. He shouldn’t wake her, but there was no way he could go back to sleep without—

  The piercing ring of a phone jarred every nerve in his body and woke Callie.

  “It can’t be morning,” she muttered. “Throw that idiot alarm clock out the window.”

  “I think that’s your cell phone. Any idea where it is?”

  She groaned. “Too close.” But she untangled herself from the sheets and padded across the floor to retrieve it from her purse.

  He listened to her conversation long enough to know it had to do with a patient, not a killer, then wiggled into a pair of jeans and headed for the bathroom to relieve himself and gargle with mouthwash. He glanced at the clock on the way: 5:00 a.m.

  Callie was hanging up the phone when he returned to the bedroom. “An emergency?” he asked.

  “Afraid so. One of the residents at the Keller Center was just rushed to the hospital with complications and early labor.”

  “What hospital?”

  “Courage Bay. They don’t usually use our hospital, but this time they made an exception.”

  “Why is that?”

  “The patient’s an emotionally fragile fifteen-year-old expecting twins, and she insisted that they take her to my hospital, though she knows I don’t deliver babies.” Callie walked over to him and slipped her arms around his neck. “I could use a good morning kiss.”

  The kiss blew him away and he had to concentrate hard to get his mind back to where it should be if they weren’t going to make love again this morning. He watched as she paraded to his closet and pulled out the clean slacks and cotton sweater she’d brought with her last night.

  It wasn’t so much that she was flaunting her nudity as that she was comfortable with it. Max wasn’t even sure she knew that he was so aroused he could barely function.

  “Fill me in on details while I dress,” she said. “What kind of information did you pick up last night?”

  “I’m going to bring Henry Lalane in for questioning today,” he said, cutting to the chase.

  “Really? I thought you had a tail on him,” she said, pulling on a pair of white, lacy panties.

  Max swallowed hard and turned away before he lost control and tore the panties off. “I did, but they lost him for almost four hours. Didn’t find him until I was getting out of the car here last night.”

  “Oh, no! This looks bad for him, doesn’t it?”

  Max nodded. “It’s starting to.”

  “I don’t buy that a man like Henry Lalane can be the Avenger. People don’t just suddenly change from a law-abiding citizen to a criminal.”

  “Happens all the time,” Max said. “You think Henry can’t be the Avenger, but you think Jerry Hawkins could be. Is that just because you haven’t known him all your life the way you have Henry?”

  “Of course not.” She reached behind her to fasten her bra, then leaned over to adjust her breasts in the cups. “He just seems more guilty.”

  “Evelyn Reilly wouldn’t agree with you.”

  Max pulled a shirt from its hanger and poked his arms through the sleeves. If Callie was in a hurry to get to the hospital, he’d best be in a hurry, too. He had to drive her there and stay with her until she was safely in the hands of her intern cop.

  Max quickly finished dressing. Last night seemed more like a dream than ever as the cold reality of another day set in. But a dream was better than a nightmare seven nights a week.

  “PUSH, GAIL. Breathe and push. Breathe and push.”

  “I’m trying.” Gail squeezed Callie’s hand so hard that Callie winced in pain. Gail’s water had broken during the night, but she hadn’t mentioned the fact to the nurse on duty at the center until quarter to five in the morning. By then the first labor pains had started, and Gail had already dilated three centimeters.

  “It hurts,” Gail whimpered, then screamed as the next contraction hit.

  “I know. You can have lots of pain reliever when this is over. Right now we just want to get the babies out safely.”

  “They’ll be too little. They’ll dieeee!” The last word came out another high-pitched wail.

  “Lots of premature babies are healthy,” Callie assured her, praying these two were.

  “First head’s coming out,” Dr. Jergens announced.

  Callie leaned closer to Gail. “Here it comes, sweetie. Push for all you’re worth.”

  Gail pushed and screamed and the head popped out, followed by a bloody, squirming body. “It’s a girl,” the doctor announced. “Got the winner. Let’s go for place.”

  Callie stole a look at the newborn as the doctor cut the umbilical cord and handed her off to the nurse. She was small, but she was breathing and her lungs seemed to be working fine.

  The process started again. This time the contractions seemed to be harder, or else Gail was so tired from the ordeal that her pain tolerance had diminished.

  Gail started crying. “I want my mother. Did somebody call my mother?”

  “You’re the mother now” was on the tip of Callie’s tongue, but she bit back the words. It wasn’t the time for lectures. The second baby’s head was pushing through.

&
nbsp; Sweat beaded on the doctor’s forehead as the rest of the newborn’s body slid into the world. “This one’s a corker. Gonna give his sister a hard time.”

  “It’s a boy,” Callie cried. “You did it, Gail. They’re both out and kicking.”

  “They’re all right? You’re sure?”

  “As far as I can tell right now. Dr. Mikki will check them out once they’re cleaned up and in the incubator. Do you want to see them?”

  “Sure.”

  The nurse handed the girl to Gail, then without asking, she put the boy in Callie’s arms. He punched his tiny fists out from beneath the light blanket and opened his mouth like a baby bird waiting for breakfast.

  He was so adorable. Callie rocked him gently, holding him close to her heart.

  “You could take them, Dr. Baker. Please. They need you.”

  Callie’s heart constricted. “You don’t know what you’re asking, Gail.”

  “I do. You already love him. I can tell.”

  “He’s precious. Any woman who adopts him will love him. She’ll love them both.”

  “Not like you would. Please. Take them home with you. Be their mom.”

  Callie’s body grew warm, and a giant lump balled in her throat. She handed the baby back to the nurse. She had to get out of the delivery room, had to breathe fresh air and get control of her senses before Gail had her considering the ridiculous request.

  “Will you at least think about it?” Gail begged, her lips quivering as if she were about to start crying again.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  It was the wrong answer. Callie couldn’t imagine where it had come from or why she was shaking when she walked out of the delivery room. All she knew was that her heart ached and her arms felt so incredibly empty.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CALLIE’S RECEPTIONIST met her as she exited an examining room. “You have a call on line one from Mrs. Marjorie Craven. She says it’s an emergency. Do you want to take it or call her back?”

  “I’ll take it.” Callie motioned to Ted that he didn’t have to follow her into her office. She had him set up at a desk just inside the reception area so that he could see down the hallway and hear her if she called to him rather than have him in and out of examining rooms, breaching her patients’ privacy.

  Both Marjorie and the judge were Callie’s patients. Marjorie had been in for her annual exam just a few weeks ago, but it had been quite awhile since the judge had come in to see Callie.

  “Hello, Marjorie, what seems to be the problem?”

  “It’s Lawrence.”

  “Is he sick?”

  “I don’t know. He flew to San Francisco yesterday, and when he came in last night, he didn’t look well. This morning he said he didn’t feel like going to work.”

  “Is he feverish or experiencing nausea?”

  “No. But he’s sick, really sick. I found him outside a few minutes ago, standing by the cliff, staring into space and muttering incoherently. At first he didn’t even seem to recognize me. Then all of a sudden, he snapped out of it. I think he may have had a seizure.”

  “Is he still incoherent?”

  “No, but he’s irrational. He refused to let me drive him to your office or the hospital emergency room. When I tried to talk to him about it, he stormed out of the house. He’s out there now in the heat. I know you’re busy, but is there any way you could get away and come here to see him?”

  “It would be a lot better if he came to the hospital.”

  “I know, but he won’t, and he has to see a doctor.”

  There was no mistaking the panic in Marjorie’s voice. Callie understood her fears. This was totally unlike Judge Craven and it did indeed sound as if he’d had a seizure or perhaps a mild stroke. “I’ll be there as quickly as I can, Marjorie. In the meantime, try to get him to come in and lie down. If he collapses or becomes incoherent again, you should call for an ambulance at once.”

  “I will.”

  Callie made a few notes on the chart of the patient she’d just seen, but Judge Craven was front and center in her mind. He’d looked fine when she and Max had run into him at the airport yesterday. She hoped this was nothing serious, but the symptoms Marjorie described were reason for concern.

  Callie saw her last two morning appointments, then washed her hands and grabbed her medical bag. “Ready for a road trip, Ted?”

  He smiled. “Am I ever?”

  “What’s the matter? Don’t you like doctors’ offices?”

  “One notch above standing in line at the unemployment office or digging ditches. So where are we going?”

  “We’re making a house call.”

  “Anyone I know?”

  “Judge Lawrence Craven.”

  “Whoa!” He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop before she reached the door leading into the hospital corridor. “Have you checked this out with the chief?”

  “I don’t have to ask Max if I can do my job. Besides, I have you for protection. You do have bullets in your gun, don’t you?”

  “I’ve got plenty of bullets. That’s not the issue. The chief said to make certain you don’t go into any situations where protection could be compromised.”

  “How can protection be compromised if I’m only visiting the house of a sick patient?”

  “The Cravens don’t have a house. They have an estate. I worked a party detail there a few years back. A small army could camp on the grounds.”

  “No small armies out there today. Marjorie wouldn’t let them walk on her grass.”

  “All the same, I have to check this out with the chief first.”

  “Fine. Check all you want, once we’re on the road. My car or yours?”

  “Mine. Definitely mine, in case the chief says to turn around and bring you right back to the hospital.”

  They were almost at Ted’s car when she heard a male voice shout her name from across the parking lot. She turned toward the voice, and caught a glimpse of Ted’s hand moving to the butt of his gun before she saw Jerry Hawkins stepping out from between two parked SUVs.

  “Could I help you with something?” she said, irritated that he’d tracked her down this way.

  “Yeah. You can tell me why the hell you went all the way to Sacramento to harass Evelyn Reilly?”

  “I beg your pardon.”

  “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Evelyn described you to a T.”

  “I think you need to move on and not bother the doctor,” Ted said.

  Callie was all too aware that Ted was ready to pull out the gun at a moment’s notice. “It’s okay, Ted. Let him talk.”

  Jerry leaned against the door of Ted’s car. “No, you’re the one who should talk, Callie. What’s your problem with me? Is it because I like your friend Mikki and she likes me? Because if it is, get over it. I’m crazy about her, and unless she sends me packing, I’m not going away.”

  “Mikki’s my friend. I don’t want her hurt.”

  “And what makes you think I’d hurt her? Because I don’t like drug dealers? Well, go spend some time in the streets instead of in your cozy little beach house, Callie Baker. See what dealers do to people’s lives. Then see if you give a damn when one is eliminated.”

  “Murder is never justified.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s you. I’m me. Stay away from Evelyn. She’s been through enough.”

  He stormed away without giving her a chance to respond. Not that she had a decent response. If the evidence wasn’t so strong against Henry Lalane, Jerry’s outburst today would have only added to her suspicion that he had something to hide.

  But the way things looked now, when this was over, she might owe Jerry Hawkins an apology.

  MARJORIE OPENED the front door before Callie had time to ring the doorbell. She stared at Ted. “Who is he?”

  “This is Ted Gravier,” Callie said. “He’s an intern who’s working with me.” She glanced around. “Where’s our patient?”

  “I need
to talk to you before you see him. But just you, not him.” Marjorie glared at Ted as if he were an alien who’d shown up uninvited for dinner.

  “No problem,” Callie agreed, though she knew Ted wouldn’t like it. Max had been in the interrogation room with Henry when Ted had called, and he’d been forced to leave the message about their destination with someone else. Ted had seemed uneasy about not speaking with Max. Either the young officer was extremely cautious or he wasn’t convinced Lalane was the man who’d added Callie’s name to the victim list and planted a bomb beneath her kitchen window.

  But as far as Callie was concerned, the Cravens were not a concern. Marjorie was a dear, and the judge was a California gentleman through and through.

  “We can talk in the study,” Marjorie said, leading the way. She turned back to Ted. “You can wait in here. If my husband returns, I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know at once.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Marjorie closed the door behind them, creating a conspiratorial atmosphere. “I didn’t fully level with you on the phone, Callie. This isn’t the first time Lawrence has had one of these blackout spells that leave him momentarily confused and incoherent. It’s just this one was worse than the others.”

  “Worse in what way?”

  “He usually snaps back immediately and seems perfectly normal. But he’s still acting strangely.”

  Blackouts. Periods of confusion. Incoherency. Things were beginning to add up. “How long has he exhibited these symptoms?”

  “About six months?”

  “Has he sought any medical help with this?”

  “No. He refuses to see anyone. Abby Hawkins says he’s in denial. Abby’s the only one who knows about this,” Marjorie added, as if she owed Callie an explanation. “She’s been through so much with her daughter that she understands how hard it is to stand by and watch someone you love refuse to seek help. She offered to come over today since I was so upset, but I told her you were coming.”

  “I can’t do a lot here, Marjorie. Lawrence needs diagnostic tests and those can only be conducted in the hospital.” And if her instincts were right, the diagnosis would not be good.