Renegade. Diana Palmer

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      “I’m tired of being chased around my desk by secretaries.”

      “They’re called administrative assistants,” Judd said helpfully. “Not secretaries.”

      “Give me a break!”

      “That’s why I want you to go to New York.”

      “I’ve got a pet to take care of,” Cash protested.

      “You can take Mikey back over to Bill Harris before you leave town. He won’t mind taking care of your baby while you’re gone. You need a break. Honest.”

      Cash sighed and slid his big hands into his pockets. “For once, I agree with you.” He hesitated. “If her uncle calls and asks why she left…”

      “I won’t say a word about the snake. I’ll just tell him that you were having mental problems from being followed around by aliens all day,” Judd said complacently.

      Cash gave him a dirty look and went back to work.

      LATE THE NEXT DAY, Cash presented himself in the commandant’s office at the Cannae Military Academy in Annapolis, Maryland. The name of the school was amusing to him, denoting as it did the monstrous defeat of mighty Rome at the hands of the Carthaginian guerilla, Hannibal.

      The commandant, Gareth Marist, was known to him. He’d served with the man years before during Operation Desert Storm in Iraq.

      They shook hands like brothers, which they were, under the skin. Few men had ever had to endure what these two had when they’d gone in behind enemy lines. Marist had escaped. Cash had not.

      “Rory told me all about you,” Gareth said, “before I realized who you were. Sit down, sit down! It’s good to see you again. You’re working in law enforcement now, I believe?”

      Cash nodded, dropping gracefully into a chair across the desk from the uniformed man, who was about his age, but taller and with a receding hairline. “I’m police chief of a small town in Texas.”

      “It’s hard to give up the military life,” Gareth told him. “I couldn’t. So I got this appointment, which was great for me. I love helping mold the soldiers of the future. Young Rory has a lot of potential, by the way,” he added. “He’s very intelligent, and not rattled by boys twice his size. Even the bullies leave him alone,” he chuckled.

      Cash grinned. “He’s not afraid to speak his mind, that’s for sure.”

      “And his sister,” Gareth said, with a long whistle. “If I weren’t a happily married man with two delightful children, I’d be crawling on my knees after Tippy Moore. She really is beautiful, and she loves that kid,” he volunteered. “When she first brought him here, she was scared to death. There had been some trouble with her mother, but she downplayed it. She showed me papers that gave her full custody of the boy, and she made sure we knew that we were never to let his mother get her hands on him. Or his so-called father.” He studied the other man closely. “I don’t guess you’d know why?”

      “I might,” Cash replied, “but I don’t share secrets.”

      “I remember,” Gareth replied, and with a grim smile. “You never broke under torture. I only knew one other guy who managed that, and he was SAS—the British Special Air Services.”

      “He was in there with me,” Cash told him. “A hell of a guy. He went right back to his unit after we escaped, like nothing had ever happened.”

      “So did you.”

      Cash didn’t like talking about it. He changed the subject. “How’s Rory doing academically?”

      “Very well. Top ten percent of his class,” he said. “He’s an officer, too.” He smiled. “You can always tell the ones who have leadership ability. It shows up early.”

      “Indeed it does.” He cocked his head. “No financial problems keeping him here?” he fished.

      The commandant sighed. “Not at the moment,” he said. “Although Tippy’s income is sporadic, you understand. There have been times when we’ve stretched due dates…”

      “If there are ever other times, could you let me know, without telling Tippy?” He slipped a business card out of his wallet and slid it across the sleek wood of the desk to the commandant. “Think of me as part of Rory’s family.”

      Gareth was hesitant. “Grier, this is a hell of an expensive place,” he began. “On a policeman’s salary…”

      “Look in the parking lot at what I’m driving.”

      “There are lots of cars out there,” the other man began, rising to go to the window.

      “You’ll notice it.”

      There was a pause and a whistle when he saw the beautiful, red custom-made Jaguar. He turned to Cash. “That’s yours?”

      Cash nodded. “I paid cash for it,” he added deliberately.

      The other man let out a sigh. “Lucky devil. I drive an SUV.” He turned back to his desk. “I gather that special ops pays well.”

      “No, it doesn’t,” Cash disagreed. “But I was heavily into other work before I did special ops,” he added. “And I don’t talk about it. Ever.”

      “Sorry.”

      “No harm done. It was a long time ago, but I invested wisely, as you see.” He smiled. “Now. How about calling Rory in?”

      The commandant knew when an interview was over. He smiled back. “Okay.”

      RORY CAME INTO THE commandant’s office breathless, flushed with excitement. Two boys had come down the long hall with him, but they stopped outside the office, and stood watching from across the hall.

      “Mr. Grier,” Rory greeted, breaking into a wide smile. “Gosh, it’s nice of you to come pick me up! Sis and I usually take the train!”

      “We’re driving,” Cash said, smiling with a little reserve. “I hate trains.”

      “Oh, I like them, especially the dining car,” Rory proclaimed. “I’m always hungry.”

      “We’ll stop and eat before we start up to New York,” he promised the boy. “Ready to go?”

      “Yes, sir, I’ve got my kit right out here in the hall! Sis is beside herself,” he added gleefully. “She’s cleaned the apartment three times and polished all the furniture. She even cleaned out the guest room, so you’d have a place to stay!”

      “Thanks, but I like my own space,” Cash said easily. “I’ve booked a hotel room near her apartment.”

      The commandant chuckled when he heard that. The Cash he’d known had always been a stickler for protocol. He wouldn’t spend a night in a single woman’s apartment, no matter how many people thought it was acceptable.

      “My sister said that you probably wouldn’t stay in the apartment,” СКАЧАТЬ