Chapter Thirty-Four

"I'm having Spike and Truc check on some warehouses and a few places by the docks. We can't move until we know where the kids are being held." Fallon glanced at each of her brothers. They were all there with the exception of Herschel. "Once we nail down the place, we call 911. My guess, once the call goes through dispatch and over the radio, DeVane and the others will respond quickly. I don't know how high this goes. So we have to move quick and carefully."

"You sure you can trust Cavanaugh?" Clay asked.

"Yes." Fallon held her eldest brother's gaze. "He's going to see what he digs up with the collector's guns. He'll be asking around to see if his co-workers can point him in the direction of a reputable collector. I want the man who put that bullet in Pops." Fallon took a deep breath and relaxed her fist. "Herschel... we keep him in the dark about this."

"The hell you will!" Herschel's angry voice broke in. "How dare you leave me out of this." His face was red and his eyes shot lightning. "I'm still a member of this family." He sat down on a stool and glared at each and every one of them. "You will fill me in on everything you've kept from me."

Fallon stared at Clay for a moment before she looked to Herschel. "We were trying to protect you. You have a family—"

"Can the shit, Fallon. I know I have a family. But, you all are my family as well. I don't believe you weren't going to tell me." The anger in his tone smashed into her with the force of a gale wind.

Sighing in defeat, Fallon nodded. She hadn't had the right to make that decision for him. "Herschel, I'm sorry we tried to keep you out of it. We were just trying to protect your wife and kids."

"Fill me in, Fallon," Herschel ordered.

So she did.

Later that evening, Fallon sat on the porch with Herschel. They'd had a big dinner and, at the moment, Laura and the girls were inside with their other brothers. It had started to rain and she leaned back in her chair, propping her booted feet on the railing. "Are you happy, Herschel?" She could feel his eyes focus upon her.

"Yes I am. Laura and the girls mean more to me than I ever believed possible."

"Then keep them safe. Send them away, just until this gets straightened out. If it goes south, it'll go south fast and you don't want them in the line of fire."

"I can protect my family." His tone was hard.

Facing her brother, Fallon put a hand on his arm. "Herschel, look inside yourself. You know what's safest for them. And you know I'm not implying you can't protect them. Just, this isn't a fight they should have to partake in. It isn't anything your little girls should have to witness."

"I don't want you to think I don't care for all of you and for what happened to Pops."

"Hush. We understand, Herschel. None of us will think less of you. We expect you to protect them. Take them somewhere safe, please." Fallon saw Laura standing in the doorway, eavesdropping. Laura met her gaze and quietly closed the door, giving them their privacy back. A heavy sigh reached her and she knew he'd made up his mind.

"Okay," he said, reaffirming what she'd guessed already. "But you keep me informed on the progress."

"Of course."

Silence reigned as the night sounds of the city reached them. Herschel's big feet moved to the railing beside hers.

"What's up with you and the homicide dick?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head. Homicide dick? "What makes you think anything is?"

"Shawn. He told us to back off of him, be nicer and all that crap because he made you happy. So I'll ask again, what's up with the two of you?"

Fallon sighed. "Just having fun."

"Just having fun? Fallon, please. You aren't the kind of woman to do that, so either you're working on a way to sabotage what you two have, or you've already convinced yourself it can't work." He made her look at him. "Why are you doing that?"

"I have done that whole marriage thing. I…I," she sighed, "I don't know."

"Stop ruining it before you give it a chance. You tell me to think of my family, well, I'm telling you to think of your future. I like Cavanaugh, he's a good match for you."

She snorted. "Thank you, Dr. Phil."

Herschel got to his feet and knocked her legs off the rail before placing his hands on her shoulders and his face in hers. "Be as sarcastic as you want. Just tell me you haven't fallen in love with him."

Fallon had no response to that. What could she say? Her brother was right.

"That's what I thought," he said softly. "If you don't give it a chance, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

He kissed her cheek and walked inside, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Covering her eyes with one hand, Fallon groaned. Why did he have to be right?

***

Ian shut the door and breathed a sigh of relief. He had totally missed the fact that Shelly had wanted him. Her offer had thrown him for a loop. She'd been damn near naked in that outfit she wore. As carefully as he could, he'd told her he wasn't interested in a relationship with her. That he was currently in one. It hadn't been a surprise that she took it hard, but she finally left.

Running a hand down his face, he made his way back to the nearest chair and sank down into it. At least he got the name he was after. Now he had something to pass along to Fallon that may help her. Hopefully, it would help. A sick feeling filled him as he imagined to the possible repercussions.

"Please let us end this with her safe." The phone rang and he absently reached for the cradle. "Cavanaugh."

"Hey, stranger," Fallon's voice reached him.

"Hey, sweetness. I miss you." He pushed up from his seat and walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and pulled out a beer.

"Is that so?"

"That's so, Miz Maddox."

"Good." He could hear the smile in her voice. "Just calling to update you. We've got it all figured out on this end. The call will be going out over your dispatch, and when it does, we'll be waiting."

"Figuring on that whoever is in on it will want to be first on the scene," he commented even as he nodded his understanding.

"Yes. So keep an ear out. We're going to move as soon as we find where they're keeping them."

"We need to call someone in on this." He opened the beer and took a drink. "This should be dealt with by the feds."

"No!" she snapped. "Look, Detective, I trusted you when I told you about this. Don't make me regret it."

He ground his teeth and prayed for strength. "Fallon, don't you think we should help those kids? Or is this all about you and your vendetta?"

Click.

Ian looked at the phone and put it back up to his ear. She'd hung up on him. He dialed her number back and waited impatiently for her to pick up. His feet took him back into his living room.

"What do you want, Detective?" she bit off.

"What was that for?"

"Don't be stupid. I don't have time for this. If you want to think this is all about my vendetta then fine, do so, but don't waste my time."

Click.

"Damn it, Fallon!" he swore, throwing the phone onto one of his couches. He slumped down onto the green microfiber material and reached for the phone again. Pressing redial, he waited for her to pick up again.

"What?" Her tone was hostile.

"Don't hang up on me. I have a name for you."

"A name?" There was some rustling on the other end before she spoke again. "Give it to me."

"Enoch Wright."

"And his name is from what?"

"That's the man in the photo with DeVane, by the ship Ventura III. He's got a whole list of offenses but he's never served any time. The two assaults with a deadly weapon charges were dismissed, and get this, all by the same judge. Judge Rouch."

"Have you checked the other cases of this judge? Or cross referenced Wright's name with any of the other cases Rouch has overseen?"

"Not yet. I will. And I am supposed to meet someone tomorrow about the guns. There was a message for me in my locker."

She was silent for a moment before she said, "Be careful, Detective."

"I will. You too, Fallon."

"I gotta go. I'll call you as soon as we find anything." He heard an engine start and his eyes narrowed.

"Fallon?"

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going home."

"Where are you?" A wave of jealousy swamped him.

"I'm in my vehicle. Look, I have to go. I need to concentrate on traffic, and I don't have my earpiece in. I'll call you later."

"Okay." He hung up and rolled his shoulders. That feeling of foreboding wouldn't leave him.

That night his dreams overflowed with images and flashes of Fallon, hurt, bleeding and dying in his arms. He bolted upright, gasping for breath, sweat dripping down his face as he fumbled for the switch to turn on his bedside lamp. Sitting in the glow from the light, he slowly caught his breath, chilled to the bone.

Climbing out of bed, he walked to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. As he drank down his third glass, he rested against the countertop. What the hell was going on with him? Ian looked at the green readout on his microwave. 4:30 a. m. it flashed. "No point in going back to bed now," he muttered.

He got in a workout before heading off to work. Still in the back of his mind, foreboding loomed.