chapter seventeen

Until Adam heard Lisa’s voice on the telephone, he hadn’t allowed himself to believe that she really was alive. They’d survived. Both of them had actually survived. And if anyone could persuade Gabrio to come with them, it was Lisa. Never in his life had Adam met anyone as strong-willed, as decisive, as determined as she was. He smiled to himself. If she was driving toward a goal, God help any person who got in her way.

For the first time since he woke in Sera’s bed, his headache had begun to subside, which was a good indicator against the possibility of ongoing complications. His muscles were still stiff and achy, but his bruises from the fall down that hillside had begun to fade to pale purple and yellow rather than black and blue. Pain still shot through his bullet wound every time he moved, but so far there was no evidence of infection.

He sat up and eased his legs over the side of the bed with a soft groan. He paused a moment for the little stars dancing in his head to disappear, then rose and took the two impossibly long steps to Sera’s overstuffed chair. He sank into it gently, his muscles first crying out in pain, then relaxing against the new surface. Sera would object—strenuously—but damn, it felt good to be out of that bed.

It was nearing nine o’clock. Looking out the window, he saw the barn in the distance, lit by flood lamps, where Sera kept her two Shetland ponies. They were all that was left from what had once been a farm full of livestock. More like house pets than horses, they trailed after her like a pair of puppies looking for attention. She’d gone outside to feed them, and he watched her now as she opened the corral and slipped inside. The dappled ponies approached her immediately, sniffing her pockets. She pulled out a carrot, broke off pieces of it, and fed it to them on the flat of her hand.

Adam had been at Sera’s house many times over the past few years, and more than once he’d gone out to the barn with her to feed the ponies. One night in particular, he remembered standing in the corral with her near dusk, listening to the crickets chirping and the swish of the ponies’ tails as they swept away flies. She mentioned that when she eventually moved back to the U.S. she was going to bring the ponies with her. He told her that she’d better get ready to pay one hell of a big pet deposit.

She’d laughed a little, then turned to face him. In that moment, something shifted between them. They stared at each other a long time. Too long. She dropped her lashes for a moment, and when she looked back up at him again something had entered her eyes that hadn’t been there before. A knowing expression. A flicker of desire.

An invitation.

He’d never in his life wanted to kiss a woman more.

Instead, he’d turned away, saying something about the ponies or the weather. . . . Hell, he didn’t remember what he’d said. But from that moment on, he’d stopped looking at her as a colleague or even a friend. That was the moment he started looking at her as a woman.

He watched out the window as Sera went into the barn, and a moment later she emerged with buckets full of grain. She set them down on the ground and the ponies attacked them. With a last pat for each of them, she headed back to the house.

He heard her come back inside, then her footsteps on the stairs. The shower ran for a while, then fell silent. A few minutes later, she came to the door of the bedroom wearing a robe and slippers. Her eyes widened.

“Adam! What are you doing up?”

She hurried into the room, closed the window and pulled the curtains, then turned to face him. “Back to bed.”

“I’m sick of that bed.”

“It’s where you belong. Right now.”

“Damn, you’re bossy.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m in charge here, Doctor, not you. Give me your hand.”

She helped him back into bed, then gently pulled the covers up to his waist. She sat down beside him, tucking the covers around him. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

“Headache?”

“Actually, it’s a little better.”

She took his vital signs and found them to be normal, then checked his pupils. “That was a nasty contusion. There’s still the chance of delayed hematoma. You could have a slow intracranial bleed as we speak.”

“Yes, I could. But we’re going to be out of here tomorrow. I’ll have a CT scan the minute we hit Monterrey.”

“Do you really think Gabrio will listen to Lisa?”

“She’s our best shot,” Adam said. “As long as he lets her in the door.”

“That’s where Lisa’s friend comes in. He’s a cop. She says he’ll find a way into that house.”

“So who is this man she’s bringing with her, anyway?”

“I have no idea. She says he’s just a friend.”

“Must be a good one,” Adam said. “She calls him in the middle of the night, and he drops everything and comes seven hundred miles into Mexico to help her. Is there something she’s not telling us?”

“I guess we’ll find out.” Sera sighed. “Tell me this is going to be over with soon.”

“You sound as if you want to get rid of me. Have I been such a bad houseguest?”

Sera smiled softly. “I’ve wanted you in my bed, Adam. I just wish it were under different circumstances.”

Adam shook his head. Was there anything this woman thought that she didn’t say? “That’s what I like about you, Sera. I never have to wonder what you’re thinking.”

“But I have to wonder constantly what you’re thinking.” She paused. “How do you feel about me?”

Loaded question. And one he didn’t want to answer.

“You know how I feel about you. I think you’re smart, you’re beautiful—”

“You know what I mean.”

He turned away. “This isn’t a good time to talk about this.”

“No, it’s the very best time. You can’t walk away from me.”

“You’re taking advantage of my condition.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Come on, Sera. I’m practically old enough to be your father.”

“So that’s how you think of me? Like a daughter?”

Not a chance. If he thought about a daughter the way he thought about Sera, they’d haul him off to jail.

“I think you know better than that,” he told her.

“Then don’t tell me it’s an age thing between us, because I’ll know you’re lying.”

Adam was silent.

“You never told me why you’re going to Chicago.”

“To take a new job. You know that.”

“No. I mean, why are you taking a new job?”

“It’s a good opportunity.”

“Right. Chief of staff.” She shook her head. “Sorry. I just can’t see it.”

“You don’t think I can handle it?”

“Oh, you can handle it, all right. I just think you’ll be miserable. How many babies do you suppose you’ll be able to deliver while you’re shoveling through a mountain of paperwork?”

None. Thank God.

“It’s a small hospital,” he said, “but it’s growing, so a lot of prestige will eventually be associated with the position. In a few years—”

“You don’t care about prestige.”

He stopped short, letting out a breath of frustration.

“You do, however, care about your patients, your friends, your family.” She paused. “And unless I’m mistaken, you also care about me.”

What could he say to that? The worst thing he could do was try to deny it. She’d see in a heartbeat just how big a liar he really was.

“I know I’m pushing here, Adam. But I don’t have the luxury of mincing words. Time isn’t on my side.”

“Sera—”

“Tell me you don’t love me.”

He looked away. Stop it, Sera. Please don’t do this to me. Please don’t make me lie to you.

“Say it, Adam. Say you don’t love me and I’ll never bring it up again.”

He started to say it. The words were on the very tip of his tongue, poised to come out of his mouth. But he was tired of lying. Tired of lying to himself, tired of lying to her. So damned tired of denying what he’d felt for her all this time that he just couldn’t do it anymore. Words tumbled out of his mouth that had been bottled up for two long years.

“Of course I love you,” he said. “How the hell could I not love you? You’re an incredible woman, so much so that sometimes it’s all I can do to keep my hands off you, to keep from telling the whole world that I’m in love with you, to keep from stopping people on the street and telling them—”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because you need another man, Sera. One who can give you what I can’t.”

“You have everything I want, Adam. Don’t you know that? You’re the most caring, compassionate man I know. You have a kind word for everyone. You’re lying here, wounded and in pain, refusing to get help for yourself for the sake of somebody else. It’s why I love you.”

He turned away. “You don’t know everything about me.”

“Of course not. That’s what a lifetime together is for.”

A lifetime together. She was killing him. Word by word, she was killing him. If only she knew how desperately he wanted that. And how impossible it was for him even to think about.

“Sera? Do you remember what you said to me the very first time I met you? About the reason you became a midwife?”

“What?”

“You told me that watching a man and his wife holding that new baby, knowing it was something they created together, was the most beautiful thing in the world.”

“It is,” she said. “I meant every word of that.”

“I believe you.” He paused. “Sera, if you knew at this moment that you would go through your entire life and never get pregnant, never have a child of your own, how would you feel?”

“I will have a child of my own.”

“Answer the question.”

“I suppose . . . I suppose I’d be devastated.”

“Yes. Of course you would. Wanting something so close to your heart and knowing you’ll never have it is hell. You want to have children.”

“Yes. Of course I do. Don’t you?”

“Did I ever tell you that?”

She blinked with surprise. “Well, no, but I assumed—”

“You shouldn’t have.”

“Adam, you’re hardly too old to have children.”

“That has nothing to do with it.”

“But you love children. I don’t understand—”

“I know you don’t. And I can’t explain it to you. Just know that I’m way past being able to think about that.”

She stared at him a long time, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “There’s something else.”

“Something else?”

“Something you’re not telling me.”

“I don’t know what else there is to say.”

“Plenty,” she said softly. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“It’s getting late. I’m a sick man, remember? I need my rest.”

“You’ve never told me about your wife.”

Adam froze, stabbed by pain that was as raw and real as it had been three years ago. He turned away from Sera’s sharp gaze, wishing she’d stop probing into things that were best left alone.

“You never talk about her,” Sera went on. “Who she was, how she died. I asked Lisa about her once, but she said I should talk to you. I suppose I should have long before now.”

“Sera—”

“You and your wife never had children. Why not?”

Adam’s pulse kicked hard, and in seconds his heart was racing. Looking down, he saw his hands had tightened into fists and he didn’t even realize he’d done it. He consciously relaxed them, only to realize his palms were sweating.

“We almost did,” he said quietly.

“I don’t understand.”

Just tell her, damn it. After all this time can’t you at least say it without falling apart?

“My wife died when she was seven months pregnant.”

For several seconds, all Sera did was stare at him, her lips parted in a small, silent gasp. Then slowly she slid her hand to her throat, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Oh, Adam,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I had no idea.”

Her compassion only fueled his misery. He couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t stand to see the empathy on her face that reflected the pain in her heart.

“To lose both a wife and a child,” she murmured. “The pain you must have felt . . . I can’t even imagine. . . .”

“Please, Sera,” he said. “Please don’t. I can’t take this.”

He couldn’t. He couldn’t stand the flood of memories that came rushing back to him, the incessant echoing of Ellen’s voice inside his head, the overwhelming helplessness and despair that he knew he might never overcome. And he certainly couldn’t deal with it in front of Sera.

“Please leave,” he implored her, refusing to meet her eyes anymore. “Right now. Please.”

But still she sat there. After a moment, he felt her hand against his cheek. “Adam . . .”

He turned back to see a single tear coursing down her face. Her own burning desire to have a child was reflected in the pain she felt for him, and that only tormented him more.

She eased closer to him, so close that her long dark hair fell along his forearm. She rested her other hand against his thigh, but it wasn’t until he felt her breath against his lips that he realized what she intended to do.

“Sera—”

“No,” she whispered. “I have to. . . .”

She pressed her lips to his in a tender kiss, her other hand stroking his thigh in the faintest of caresses, as if she was driven to touch him and afraid of hurting him all at the same time. That gentle touch was enticing beyond measure. He knew he should be pulling away, but he’d wanted to kiss her for such a long time, a thousand times over, and he found himself leaning into her, tilting his head and closing his mouth over hers.

It was wrong. He knew it was wrong, but he hadn’t kissed a woman in three long years, and the feeling overpowered him. But not just because he was kissing a woman. It was because he was kissing Sera, who was more special to him than anything else in his life. Pain still pounded at his head, but he didn’t feel it. Memories circled the periphery of his mind but stayed at bay. His heart was still racing, but his despair had shifted to euphoria, his anxiety to exhilaration. For a few blessed moments, he felt nothing but Sera’s kiss and the love she was pouring into him.

She finally leaned away from him, her beautiful brown eyes still glistening with tears. She backed away slowly and stood up, and he thought she was going to say good night and walk out of the room. Instead, she pulled down the covers on the other side of the bed.

She opened her robe and pushed it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. She wore a long, filmy blue nightgown that seemed to shimmer in the dim lamplight, skimming along her hips and breasts. He’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

She slid into bed beside him. “Sleeping with you.”

“Sera . . .”

“I don’t want to leave you.” She paused, staring at him with a soft, plaintive expression that went straight to his heart. “Please tell me you want me to stay.”

As she waited for his answer, all he could think about was how much he wanted her there, now and forever. He wanted her beside him all the days and nights of his life. That wasn’t possible, could never be possible, but just for tonight he wanted to feel the warmth of her body next to his, smell her soft floral perfume, hear her gentle breathing.

And think about things that could never be.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Stay.”

She settled her head on the pillow beside him with a tender sigh, her hand finding his arm and stroking it softly. He closed his eyes, trying to commit the way he felt right now to memory—a memory he hoped would last a lifetime.

“Do you remember a time,” Sera said softly, “when you first came to Santa Rios, when a woman who was in labor came to my house? She was single. She’d had no prenatal care at all and I thought she might be in premature labor, so I called you and asked you to come over. Do you remember her?”

He thought back. “Yes. I remember.”

“She was so scared. She had no friends or relatives. She was crying. Screaming in pain. I couldn’t calm her down. And then you arrived.”

Sera shifted a little, tucking her arm beneath her pillow.

“You went into the room and sat down on the bed beside her. You took her hand and spoke to her in a voice that was so soft and compelling that she stopped crying. Then you brushed her hair away from her forehead, put your hand against her cheek and told her that you knew she was scared and you knew how much it hurt, but there was nothing to be afraid of because you were going to be there to help her through every minute of it. And then . . .” Sera slid her hand down and closed it over his, squeezing gently. “Then you took a tissue and wiped the tears off her face.” She sighed softly. “That was the moment.”

“The moment?”

“The moment I fell in love with you.”

Adam felt a rush of longing so powerful he thought it might tear him apart. That she’d had those thoughts all this time astonished him. He knew just how much he was drawn to her, but he’d never imagined to what extent she’d felt the same about him.

“Someday soon you’ll want to try again,” Sera said. “You’ll want to reach for the happiness you lost that day.”

“No. That’ll never happen. Please don’t think it will.”

“Time heals,” she said. “The day will come when you’re ready to love again, when you’re ready to think about having another child.” She paused. “I want to be there on that day.”

He couldn’t say anything. Nothing. Words simply wouldn’t come. To want so badly what she’d described and know it could never be was the most painful thing on earth.

“Sweet dreams,” she whispered.

If only she knew. If only she knew that closing his eyes brought dreams that haunted him, far from the sweet ones she’d wished for him. Loving him came with an even greater price than she realized, and he knew in his heart that it was one she would never want to pay.

The sun had barely crept over the horizon the next morning when Dave and Lisa took off in a single-engine six-passenger plane from Blue Diamond Aviation. Dave still wasn’t the happiest small-plane passenger in the world, but this one was bigger than the last one they’d flown in, and he’d come to realize that Lisa knew precisely what she was doing. And it was definitely the best way to make it to and from Santa Rios in as little time as possible.

“Damn, it’s cold in here,” Lisa said. “I need to tell my boss to do something about this heater. Will you grab my jacket out of my bag?”

Dave handed her the jacket, and she slipped it on. The look fit her exactly—jeans, T-shirt, denim jacket, boots, a fresh, clean face devoid of makeup, and short reddish-blond hair going every which way, as if she had far better things to do than spend hours in front of a mirror. She sat with the confident bearing of a person who looked as if she was born to be in a pilot’s seat.

Dave peered out the windshield. “So what’s the weather like between here and there?”

She smiled. “What’s the matter, Dave? Still sweating the small-plane experience?”

He shrugged. “Just wondering.”

“The weather.” She tapped her finger against the yoke. “Well, let’s see. I guess there is that torrential rainstorm over Brownsville. I suppose we ought to watch out for that.”

He whipped around to face her. “You’re flying into a rainstorm?”

“And I suppose we’ll have to skirt that massive electrical storm east of Monterrey.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry!” she said with a wave of her hand. “Those will seem like nothing once that category five hurricane swings north from the Yucatán Peninsula and smacks into Santa Rios.”

Dave stared at her dumbly for a moment, then slowly closed his eyes, shaking his head. Once his heart rate returned to normal, he gave her a deadpan stare. “How about we just take a roundabout route over the Bermuda Triangle?”

Her eyes lit up with excitement. “You know, I’ve never flown through there before. Sounds like fun.”

He wondered if there was anything about his profession that would rattle her. A hundred-mile-an-hour police chase? Pulling assorted body parts from a ten-car pileup? Disarming a crack addict carrying an automatic weapon and enough ammo to start World War III? Drinking the coffee at the station house? Surely there was at least one thing that would get to her, and once he found out what it was he intended to find a way to terrorize her with it.

“Where did you learn to give your passengers such a hard time? Do they teach you that in flight school?”

“God, no. When I took lessons, I had to toe the line. Behave myself. Speak when spoken to. Might as well have been in the military.”

“Did you get your pilot’s license in San Antonio?”

“Yeah. After Lenny was arrested, I managed to stay in his apartment through the rest of the month because it was paid up. I got a job at a crummy little diner. I hated that place, except for one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“It was right across the street from the airfield.”

“Ah. Good planning.”

“Good fortune. They were looking for a waitress. But you know, I worked my ass off in that place. No matter how many times I had to smile when I didn’t want to, dodge butt pinches from dirty old men, and soak my feet at the end of a double shift, still I did it. I was making a lot in tips, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I had the money for flying lessons. But they came in a way I didn’t expect.”

“How’s that?”

“One day an older woman sat down at the counter. She had steel-gray hair. A body like a battering ram. And I could tell by the look on her face that she took no crap from anyone. One of the other waitresses told me she was Marge Watkins, the owner of Blue Diamond Aviation. I remember going into the kitchen, thinking fast, trying to get my nerve up to talk to her before she walked out. Then I went back out to the counter.”

“What did you say to her?”

“I asked her for a job.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah. Shocked the hell out of her, I think, but she just stared at me, saying nothing. I told her quickly that I didn’t care what I did there, as long as I was employed. She asked me why I wanted to work for her. I took a deep breath and told her that someday I wanted to learn how to fly.”

“What did she say to that?”

“She just laid her fork down, sat back in her chair, folded her arms, and asked me what in the hell made me think I could ever learn how to fly a plane.”

Dave raised his eyebrows. “Wow. Tough old broad.”

“Oh, yeah. And I was shaking like crazy, but I wasn’t about to let her see that. I raised my chin, glared at her, and asked her what in the hell made her think I couldn’t.”

Dave smiled. “What did she do then?”

“Nothing. She just sat there staring at me. I felt so humiliated that I wanted to crawl under the counter. But then she reached into her wallet, pulled out a business card, and told me to come see her in the morning.”

“She gave you a job?”

“Yes. I was so excited. Less so when I found out some of the things she had in mind, but excited just the same. She had me filing, answering phones, washing planes, cleaning oil stains off the pavement, making coffee. I swear if a toilet needed cleaning she handed me a scrub brush. She was loud, brassy, and intimidating, and I was terrified of her. I hoped that she’d take pity on me and let me have a little time in the air before I actually had the money to do it. But no. Until I had money on the table, I stayed on the ground.

“Eventually I went through ground school. Then came my first day in the air. I showed up and looked around for one of the regular instructors. But guess who was waiting for me? Marge. God, I was terrified.”

“So how was it?”

Lisa sighed softly. “There were so many days when I hated that woman. She was so blunt and demanding that I felt totally inadequate. But then I’d see her nod a little, as if she approved of something, or she’d toss off a comment as she was walking away that told me that maybe I wasn’t the worst student in the history of aviation. She never let up on me, never let me do anything half-assed, and she sure as hell didn’t take any attitude. Then one day I turned around, and I was a pilot. And a damned good one at that. Looking back, I have her to thank for it.”

“Does she still run Blue Diamond?”

“No. She died only a few years after I got my pilot’s license. She was diagnosed with cancer, and within a couple of months she was dead.” She paused. “Then the most amazing thing happened.”

“Oh?”

“The day after her funeral, her attorney contacted me. It seemed that she’d left me something in her will.”

“What was that?”

“A 1964 Piper Cherokee.”

Dave’s eyebrows flew up. “She left you a plane?”

“Yes. I was stunned. I just stood there in the attorney’s office, staring at the keys. I think I ended up crying. I don’t really remember. Then the attorney handed me a note she’d written to me.”

Lisa leaned into the backseat, reached into her backpack, and grabbed her wallet. She opened it and reached into one of the pockets, extracting a folded, water-crinkled piece of paper and handing it to Dave. He opened it carefully and read:

I thought I loved flying more than anyone on earth. Then I met you. Marge.

Only a few words. But they explained everything.

“So where is that plane now?” Dave asked.

“At the bottom of the Mercado River.”

As Lisa slipped the note back into her wallet, Dave noticed her eyes glistening. He sat back in his seat, thinking that for somebody who swore she needed nobody she’d sure had a few good people in her life to help her along the way.

An hour later, they approached Santa Rios. When Lisa swung wide around the town to bring the plane in from the south, dropping lower and lower over the field where she intended to put it down, Dave started feeling queasy all over again. It was one thing to have a nonlethal landing on a nice, smooth runway. It was another thing to put a plane down in a bumpy field. It wasn’t as if his life flashed before his eyes, but he was definitely thinking about the extra life insurance he’d taken out last year and wishing he’d doubled the amount.

“Lighten up, Dave,” Lisa said. “This is no big deal.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re clawing the seat. That’s hell on the upholstery.”

Dave yanked his hands away and stuck them in his lap, but still they were sweating. When the plane finally touched down, though, she was right. Nice and smooth. Piece of cake.

She taxied the plane to the edge of the field and parked it behind a grove of trees, where it would be invisible from the dirt road that ran alongside the field a quarter mile in the distance.

“Any chance of somebody spotting the plane?” Dave asked.

“Nope. The next nearest farmhouse is five miles south of here.”

They got out, grabbed their bags, and started the half-mile hike toward Sera’s farmhouse in the distance.

“You say Sera’s a midwife?” Dave asked.

“Yeah.”

“So what’s the connection between her and Adam?”

“That’s the connection. Or at least, that’s how it started out. He’s an obstetrician. They bonded over babies. Actually, she’s in love with him, but he pretends she’s not. And he pretends he’s not in love with her.”

“That’s an awful lot of pretending going on.”

“Adam lost his wife three years ago, and he just hasn’t gotten over it. I still don’t know why he was moving to Chicago, where he’d never be able to see Sera again. I tried to suggest that those plans might be a little misguided on his part, but he turned deaf on me.” She trudged on. “But you know, sometimes people are brought together over desperate situations.”

Yeah, Dave thought. Sometimes they are.

A few minutes later, they went through a gate that led from the field into the barn area. A corral adjoining the barn contained two dappled gray ponies, who stuck their noses through the fence looking for attention.

Dave and Lisa reached the farmhouse. As they circled around to the front and climbed the steps to the porch, Sera came to the door, a pretty Hispanic woman who gave Lisa a heartfelt hug.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Sera said. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

“How is Adam doing?”

“He’s good. I’m still worried, but for now, he’s okay.”

Lisa introduced Dave, and Sera gave him the same kind of hug she’d given Lisa.

“Thank you for coming, too,” she said. “I don’t even know who you are, but sometimes I think God sends angels, you know?”

Dave smiled. “Can’t say as I’ve ever been called one of those.”

“I have a feeling I’m going to be elevating you to sainthood before all this is over. Come with me.”

She led them up a wide oak staircase to the second floor, then down the hall to a bedroom. Lisa stepped into the room.

“Adam,” she said, the word rushing out on a huge breath of relief. She hurried to the man’s bedside, then stopped suddenly. “I’m just dying to give you a great big hug. But if you’ve survived this far, I don’t want to rock the boat.”

“Ask my nurse if it’s all right.”

Lisa turned to Sera, who smiled at her. “That’s just the kind of medicine he needs.”

Lisa sat down on the bed and hugged Adam, gently but with the kind of sincerity people reserve only for those who mean the most to them. Adam returned her hug with equal enthusiasm. They seemed like two very good friends tied to each other with a family kind of closeness. No wonder the news of his death had shaken her up so much.

“Adam, this is Dave DeMarco. He’s going to help us find Gabrio and get all of us out of here.”

Dave approached Adam and shook his hand. “Lisa was pretty relieved to find out you were alive.”

“The feeling was mutual, believe me,” Adam said.

Dave turned to Sera. “Where does Gabrio live?”

“A small house on the east side of town. Ivan said he’s been sick for a couple days and has been staying home. I think he’s been sick ever since the night Adam was shot.”

“Lisa and I will go talk to him.”

“He may not even answer the door.”

“I’ll break in if I have to.”

“That’s going to scare the poor kid to death,” Sera said.

“I’ll take it as easy as I can. One way or the other, I guarantee you I’ll get Lisa inside.” He turned to Adam. “But if he still refuses to leave with us, that’s all we can do. If I put him on that plane with us against his will, that’s kidnapping, and that’s a line I refuse to cross.”

Adam sighed, then nodded. “Okay. I can’t ask for more than that.”

“We need to verify a time when he’s there and his brother isn’t,” Dave said. “I want Ivan out of the mix.”

“I can drive by their house this afternoon,” Sera said. “If Gabrio’s car is there and Ivan’s isn’t, it probably means that Ivan is at Esmerelda’s, the bar where I work. He comes in there almost every day. I can keep an eye on him until you talk to Gabrio.”

“Good. That’ll work.”

“What about another vehicle?” Lisa asked. “We’re going to need two.”

“I still have my father’s old car out in the barn,” Sera said. “It’s not much, but it’ll get you there.”

“Is there gas in it?”

“Should be. I drive it every once in a while and I filled it up recently.”

Adam turned to Sera. “What if Ivan decides he wants to leave the bar before you get back here with Gabrio?”

“I’ll persuade him to stay,” Sera said.

“Watch yourself,” Adam said. “Please.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He reached out to her. “Come here.”

She sat down beside him. He took her hand. “I know you can take care of yourself, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying about you. Just please be careful.”

She traced her fingertips over his cheek. “I will.”

Dave gave Lisa a subtle but distinct “it seems you were right” look.

“What time do you go to work?” Dave asked Sera.

“Four o’clock.”

“We’ll plan on moving out then.”