Familiar Vows. Caroline Burnes

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      The truth was, if the Maxim family connections in New York had seen the story on the photo exhibit, Michelle could be in as much danger as Lorry.

      He’d almost drifted off when he had a terrible image of Michelle in the hands of Robert Maxim, Antonio’s younger brother. Word on the street was that Robert was more brutal, more sadistic than Antonio had ever thought to be.

      The image was so disturbing that Lucas gave up on resting. He went to the concession stand, where a lone Latino woman was reading a magazine behind the counter. She smiled at his request and made a fresh pot of coffee for him.

      When he had his large black coffee, he went back to his seat, pulled a notepad out of his pocket and began to make notes.

      Antonio Maxim had been sentenced to life in prison on a charge of first-degree murder. The Maxim family ran an underground white slavery ring, luring young Texas girls to the big city with a promise of modeling and acting careers, only to hook them on drugs and turn them out on the streets.

      The life expectancy for such a girl was eight years. If they weren’t rescued, many of them died of diseases borne of the drugs that kept them numbed to life. More than a few ended up as suicides. Some were murdered because they were at the wrong place at the wrong time.

      Lucas’s brother, Harry, had been sent undercover from the Dallas Police Department up to New York to get evidence on the Maxim family. He’d done just that, but someone had blown his cover.

      Harry had been standing on the corner of a busy intersection in broad daylight when a black Mercedes had pulled up in front of him. In one of the boldest killings in the city in recent years, Antonio had stepped out of the car long enough to shoot Harry point-blank in the heart and head. He’d died within seconds.

      Lucas knew the fine details of the murder because of Lorry Kennedy’s courage. Known at that time as Betty Sewell, she’d been in the vicinity by happenstance—a dance audition—and her thoughts had been on many things other than her physical surroundings. At the trial that resulted in Antonio’s conviction for murder, Lorry testified that she’d come around the corner just in time to see Antonio step from the car, shove the gun in Harry’s chest and pull the trigger. Antonio was smiling when he did it.

      Survival instincts had kicked in, and Lorry had dropped her bag and run for her life. She’d escaped, but three days later, Antonio and his men had found her. Antonio had given the order to cut her throat, and his men were in the process of doing just that when Lucas had arrived. He’d killed three of Antonio’s men on the spot and gotten Lorry to a hospital.

      The doctors hadn’t been certain Lorry would live, but she had. And she was hopping mad. She made certain that Antonio went to prison for the rest of his life.

      Now the last hurdle was his appeal. If something happened to Lorry, then the case against Antonio would be extremely weak. Antonio knew that, as did his brother, Robert. And Robert would do whatever it took to get his big brother out of prison.

      Whatever it took.

      Killing Lorry. Killing Michelle Sieck. Whatever it took.

      Lucas swallowed the rest of his coffee and stood. He could see the plane outside the window. Soon he’d board. Then he’d find that photographer. She’d endangered Lorry and herself.

      The Maxims wouldn’t care what Michelle knew or didn’t know. If there was even the slimmest chance that she could lead them to Lorry, they’d dig it out of her by any means necessary.

      Chapter Four

      Michelle awoke the next morning with a pounding headache. She’d had only two glasses of champagne, so the throbbing behind her eyes must be tension-related. The events of yesterday had caught up with her in a physical way.

      She rolled over and snatched a pillow to cover her head. It was just after six, a time meant for sleep.

      The hard knock at her door didn’t register until it came for the second time, a series of poundings that said someone meant business.

      Thinking that it might be something to do with Marco and the gallery, she grabbed her old chenille robe and went to the door.

      “Hold your horses. I’m coming!” She was grumpy and she didn’t care. She cracked the door on the chain and felt as if she’d stepped into someone else’s life. The tall man from the Confederate wedding was standing outside her apartment. Except he was wearing jeans, cowboy boots and a Stetson—exactly as she’d imagined him.

      “Michelle Sieck,” he said in a voice like someone on Law and Order. “I’m Lucas West. Please open the door. Now.”

      “Why are you here?”

      “I could tell you a pack of lies and get in the door, but I’m going to give it to you straight because a woman’s life may be on the line. The woman in that wedding picture you took is a federally protected witness. You’ve blown her cover and endangered her life. Now your life may also be in danger. Open the door so we can begin to make this right.”

      Michelle slowly undid the latch. She stepped back, moving zombielike to the kitchen. “I need some coffee,” she said.

      “There’s no time.” Lucas scanned the room and walked to the windows. After he checked the street, he lowered the blinds and pulled the curtains shut.

      “I’m dying from a headache. I need caffeine.”

      “We’ll get some at the airport.”

      She tried to focus on what he was saying, but things were moving too fast. “The airport?”

      He wheeled on her then, the anger she’d seen clearly in his gray eyes and terse expression no longer under control. “Lorry Kennedy’s life could be at stake. Likely Charles’s, too. Because of you. Because you did exactly what you wanted to do with a photograph that never should have been taken.”

      Michelle stumbled backward from the onslaught of his harsh words. Once she regained her balance, though, she stepped into his face.

      “I didn’t intend to show that photograph. The movers picked it up by mistake. As soon as I saw it, I had it removed.”

      “And you think that makes it okay?” Lucas glared at her.

      She lifted her chin and looked into his flinty eyes. “It doesn’t make it okay, but it doesn’t make me a worthless liar, either. It was an accident.”

      “So if Robert Maxim finds Lorry and kills her, we can just mark it down as an accidental death.”

      Her head was throbbing so hard, she thought she might throw up. Preferably on his boots. She hated to have her nose rubbed in a mistake. Her parents were masters at this behavior and had shoved every tiny misstep back in her face. Until she’d found the grit to move to New York and follow her dream.

      “That’s not what I meant,” she said through clenched teeth. “All I’m saying is that this didn’t happen because I didn’t care.” She held up her hands. Why was she trying to explain this to a cowboy?

      “Pack a bag. I’ve got to get you out of here. If I can find you, so can the Maxims.”

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