Once More A Family Part 1

Paula Detmer Riggs.

Once More A Family.

Prologue.

Hotd.a.m.n, he felt good!

Finally, after thirty-six years, three months and two days of never quitemeasuring up, Grady Hardin, the sorriest, ugliest, dumbest of the five Hardinbrothers had done something right.

d.a.m.n near half the narcotics division of the Lafayette PD had battled for thepromotion to captain of the newly created drug interdiction department. Inspite of the two reprimands for insubordination in his service record and atendency to smart-off to the wrong people when his resentment of authority gotthe best of him, he'd snagged the prize. Since his father's retirement fromthe force last year, only his straight-arrow big brother Kale outranked him.

He owed it all to his sweet Ria, he decided as he rocketed his candy-apple'69 Charger along the narrow country road. Marrying Victoria Virginia Madisonnine years ago had been the best thing he'd ever done in his lazy,self-indulgent life. His lady loved him, though G.o.d alone knew why he'd beenso blessed. Maybe, a good deed in a former life. He sure as shooting didn'thave much to offer a lady like her in this one.

He wasn't all that bright, he was clumsy as an ox, and he tended to stumbleover his tongue when he wasn't with other cops. Which is why he tended to shyaway from talking to women. But somehow she made it easy. Maybe because shelaughed at his jokes. Or asked him questions that made him feel she reallycared about the answers.

His brothers had darn near swallowed their tongues when they'd gotten theirfirst look at her. She was flat-out beautiful, with sparkling moss-green eyes,a sweet smile, and a sa.s.sy rear end.

She was also the sweetest, kindest, strongest woman he'd ever met in hislife. Wanting to earn her respect had given him a reason to stop messing uphis life and do something with all that potential everyone kept nagging himabout.

Three years ago, when she'd given him a son-and then insisted the little boycarry his daddy's name, James Grady-he'd nearly burst with pride. He'd vowedthen to make her-and Jimmy-proud.

Since he was alone, he let out a Hoosier version of a rebel yell, and thenbecause it felt so good, did it again. Feeling as giddy as a prisoner suddenly released for good behavior, he shoved his favorite Marvin Gaye ca.s.sette intothe player, checked the minors and floored it. Thesouped -up V-8 beneath thebig hood responded instantly, adding the deep-throated growl of unleashedpower to the soul-stirring beat of rock and roll.

A white-faced heifer grazing near a rusty fence looked up from a batch ofsweet clover, and Grady waved at the pretty littleHereford. d.a.m.n, but it was abeautiful day inIndiana.

The first day of summer.

Grady loved summer. As a kid, he'd been wild to escape the miserable boredomand daily humiliations of the cla.s.sroom, his clumsy hands itching to wraparound his favorite fishing pole. Lying on his back by the river with his linein the water and the breeze cooling his face, he was freed from therestrictions of a brain that didn't quite work right.

On days when the letters on the page remained a hopeless jumble, no matterhow hard he tried, he'd skip out during the lunchtime break and head for thewoods.

Grady still remembered the tanning he'd gotten one sunny day in May whenMason Hardin had tracked him down in his favorite spot on the bank oftheWabash. His b.u.t.t had been sore for days, driving his brothers into gales oflaughter every time he tried to sit down. But it had been the disappointmentin his father's eyes that had finally gotten to him. So he'd stopped playinghooky and worked to bring his usual collection of D's up to a respectable Caverage. He'd even given up his dream of becoming an Indy champion andfollowed family tradition by becoming a cop.

No one thought he'd last a week in the police academy. Brother Kale figuredforty-eight hours max. He'd heard rumors his father had declined to take thebet. Grady'd had a few doubts himself. Bending his will to someone else's ideaof discipline had never been high on his to-do list. On the other hand, givingup on a commitment was even lower on his personal hierarchy of desirablecharacter traits.

Besides, he loved goading those mean-as-sin instructors into red-faced fury.Seeing the frustration in their eyes had been worth the pain of the brutaltraining. The more they figured he'd wash out, the harder he dug in. By thetime he graduated he'd earned a reputation as a tough SOB with a sneaky leftjab.

No one was surprised when he ended up working undercover in the murky worldof drug addicts and pushers. h.e.l.l, he had a sneaking suspicion most of thewatch commanders were relieved he hadn't ended up in their division.

He grinned as he thumped the heel of one hand against the wheel in time tothe music. The tender stalks of corn shooting up on both sides of the roadflashed by in a blur of green, and wind flavored with sunshine slapped at hisface.

The quick flash of a strobe in his rearview brought him down to earth with afamiliar thud. Just what he needed-another speeding ticket on his record.

d.a.m.n.

A glance at the speedometer had him grinding out his favorite obscenity, theone that had had him spitting out soap when he'd been a kid.

h.e.l.l and blast, the old Charger still wanted to run. So did he, d.a.m.n it. Hisb.u.t.t had been glued to a chair behind a desk for a solid week without a dayoff. Before that he'd been cooling his heels in a courthouse corridor, waitingto testify. He was so wired he was ready to blow.

Resigned to his fate, he heaved a sigh and signaled that he was pulling off.Tight as a tick, the county-mountiehugged his b.u.mper all the way to theshoulder.

"Fun's over for today, Trouble," he muttered, tossing a guilty grin at thescrawny black and white kitten peering at him over the edge of the box on thepa.s.senger seat. "We've been busted."

Accustomed to the drill, he killed the engine and leaned across the gearshiftto grab his registration from the glove compartment.

"Act innocent," he ordered the cat, who answered with a plaintive meow. d.a.m.nthing was just about the sorriest looking critter he'd ever seen. Far as he'dbeen able to see, it didn't have much of a personality, either. Probably hadworms as well as an ugly face and a mangled leg.

The bill at the emergency animal hospital had had him sucking in hard. He wa.s.still working on the argument he planned to lay on Ria-after he'd softened herup with flowers and a promise to do all the cooking at the lake for the entiretwo weeks they would be at the cottage.

He'd rather eat dirt than cook.

Why the h.e.l.l hadn't the d.a.m.n cat crawled under someone else's vehicle afterhe'd been hit? he thought sourly. An entire parking lot full of wheels, andTrouble chose his.

Still, Jimmy had always wanted a pet, he reminded himself as he watched thecop climb out of the cruiser and walk toward the Charger. Just his luck. Theguy was a bruiser with a c.o.c.ky walk and an impeccable uniform. Straight-arrowall the way. Grady had a sinking feeling he wasn't going to talk his way outof this one.

Though he was tempted to deal with this one eye to eye, he stayed put. Copsgot real nervous when drivers left the vehicle. Especially guys his sizedriving a muscle car on a deserted road. For all the trooper knew he hadatrunkful of dope and a semiautomatic under the seat.

"Afternoon, officer," he said when the trooper stopped a few feet away.Standard traffic stop procedure, Grady noted with satisfaction. Too far to beknocked over by the car door, far enough to get to his weapon fast. Hesquinted at the silver name tag pinned to the starch-crisp shirt. He knew alot of state cops, some by name, some by reputation. He opened a file forOfficer Jansing to the list he kept in his head.

"The Indy 500 was last month, buddy."

Nowthat was original, he thought as he tossed the guy a friendly grin."You're telling me. I dropped two big ones when the rookie fromPortugaltookthe checkered flag."

Unmoved, Jansing narrowed his gaze behind the Rambo shades. His heavy Hoosiertw.a.n.g marked him as a longtime native. "License and registration, please."

Resigned to paying for his fun, Grady handed over the registration, then flipped open the leather case containing both his driver's license andprofessional ID.

"James Grady Hardin," he read aloud from the registration now clipped to hisboard, then frowned and glanced up curiously."Captain Hardin, Lafayette PD?The guy who took down that sc.u.mbag drug lord, Rustakov? The one they call theMad Russian?"

"'Fraid so."

Jansing swallowed hard, reminding Grady of himself when he'd busted a deputychief for being drunk and disorderly in a topless bar. Twenty-four hours laterhe found himself called on the carpet for being disrespectful to a superior,something that was wasn't going to happen to this eager youngster.

"Sorry for not recognizing you right away, sir. Me and the other guys wererooting for you when you were in intensive care."

"I appreciate it."

"Too bad the DA couldn't get the Mad Russian himself, instead of settling forthat wimp son of his," the trooper declared in a disgusted tone. "But likethesarge says, it's an election year."

"Your sergeant's right. A prosecutor who blows a high-profile case is deadmeat."

It wasn't the first time DA RayHarrangh had gone for the slam dunk instead ofthe hard slog. Grady had all but gotten down on his knees and begged,butHarrangh had his eye on the governor's chair.

"HeardRustakov is trying to wrangle his son a new trial."

"Won't happen.Sergei's gonna be an old man before he walks through those bigiron gates."

The officer's grin had a cynical slant. "Nice to win one now and then."

"Yeah."

Russian-born BorisRustakov had made a fortune smuggling heroin into the slumsofMos...o...b..fore coming to the States with his son,Sergei , leaving his wife anddaughters behind. His MO was a particularly nasty one. He targeted collegecampuses, using young, good-looking pushers to pa.s.s out junk at fraternityparties. In some kind of perverse reversal of status, heroin had become thedrug of choice among the well-fed, well-tended students.

It had taken Grady a solid two-years of crawling aroundLafayette's underbellyto set up the sting that brought the b.a.s.t.a.r.d down. The trial had ended lastweek.SergeiRustakov was on his way to do fifteen hard ones, thanks to twelvehardworking citizens who considered the attempted murder of a policeman aserious crime.

Grady agreed. He'd been the one who'd taken two slugs fromSergei's.357Magnum. The damage had been ma.s.sive, the blood loss severe. He shouldn't havelived. Even the doctors had been surprised when he'd survived. The wicked scarpuckering one side of his chest had made a vivid impression on the jury.Grady's testimony had sealedSergei's fate.

Justice had been a long time coming. For the past twenty-four months, he'd spent more time on the streets or in smoky bars than he'd spent at home.Riahad been patient at first, but when he'd missed both Jimmy's third birthdayandtheir anniversary dinner, she'd turned p.r.i.c.kly. He couldn't blame her. h.e.l.l,he knew he'd been a lousy husband and a worse father.

But all that was over.

Life was looking up. He had fourteen days to spend mending fences.

The officer watched a cattle truck rattle by, leaving a ripe smell of freshmanure behind, then returned his gaze to Grady again. He looked acutelyuncomfortable. "The thing is, sir, I clocked you at ninety-eight in afifty-five zone."

"That's about right," Grady admitted. "Figured with this nice stretch ofroad, no cross streets, I'd blow out some carbon."

The trooper grinned. He was younger than Grady at first pegged. "Beg pardon,Captain, but I radioed in this stop which puts me in a real bind. I reallyshould issue a citation."

Grady admiredJansing's integrity. "Write it up, officer. I deserve it. Youhad me cold."

"Yes, sir."

The man's relief was obvious as he hastily bent his attention to the citationform. Grady checked his watch. He'd promisedRia he'd be home early enough tohelp her pack, but he'd gotten hung up. He'd meant to call. d.a.m.n, he had tostart thinking like a husband instead of a cop.

The trooper, too, checked his watch, then scrawled the time and his signatureon the citation before handing over the clipboard. "Guess you know where tosign."

"Guess I do." Grady scrawled his name and took his copy and ID before pa.s.singthe board through the window again. Habit had him glancing at the fee scheduleon the back of the citation.

"Ouch," he muttered as he folded the flimsy and tucked it into the pocket ofhis shirt. "Looks like I'll be holding it down for a while."

The trooper fought a grin. "It's been a real honor meeting you, sir. Copslike you make us all proud." He flipped a crisp salute before turning on hisheel to stride back to his cruiser.

After tucking his wallet into his pocket again, Grady glanced to his rightwhere the half-grown cat was still watching him with unblinking eyes, clearlyunimpressed. Careful not to make a quick move, he rubbed the scruffy furbetween its ears. The kitten yawned.

"Hey, show some respect, Trouble. You're riding with agen-u-ine hero. Got myname in the paper and a nice shiny medal to prove it."

The trooper waved as he drove past, and Grady tapped the horn beforefastening his seat belt again. The big car protested the snail's pace, but hebit the bullet and kept to the limit all the way home.

Ria'svan was in the driveway instead of the garage. The side door was open, alaundry basket of Jimmy's favorite sandbox toys on the floor. Item one on her list of things to be taken to the lake.Ria was compulsive about beingorganized.

"Stay cool while I soften her up," he told the cat before slipping out fromunder the wheel. After retrieving his briefcase and the bouquet from the backseat, he headed up the brick walk he'd laid the summer after they'd bought thebig old farmhouse. At the end near the porch wereRia's prized rose bushes.Damask,Ria had called them when they'd first seen the place. Like that madethem special.

While she'd been burying her face in the blossoms, he'd been mentally addingup the cost of repairs the neglected structure would need before it would beeven marginally fit for habitation.

He'd had his arguments all ready, lined up all neat and tidy like recruits atmuster-and then she'd lifted her gaze to his. As soon as he'd seen the dreamylook in her moss-green eyes, he knew he'd just bought a house. He'd signed thepapers the next day.

He had his key in the lock before he realized the front door was ajar. Hefelt a tightening across his shoulders before he remembered the basket oftoys. At least he was in time to carry the bags to the van for her.

Hiding the flowers behind his back, he nudged the door wide and walked in. Hesmelled dinner. Something with spices and tomato sauce. The TV was on in thefamily room at the back of the house. He recognized the music. Jimmy'sfavoriteWinnie the Pooh video. The little d.i.c.kens had talked his mom into letting him watch that sucker again, even thoughRia had sworn she could recitethe dialogue in her sleep.

"Ree? Sweetheart?"

There was no answer. Nothing but the muted sounds of Christopher Robin andhis buddies. His mood spiked a little higher. When Jimmy was watching Pooh,nothing distracted him. Grady closed the door and twisted the dead-bolt, thenheaded upstairs, already undressingRia in his mind. Better yet, maybe she wasgrabbing a quick shower, the way she did sometimes when Jimmy was glued to thetube.

His mood heated at the thought of finding her naked and wet, her skin dewyfrom the steam. He figured he could shuck his clothes in two seconds flat andbe inside her in three. His usually proper lady liked it that way sometimes.Fast and wild.

"Ria? Honey? Haven't you finished packing yet?"

There was no answer, and the smile in his mind died. "Ree, answer me."

Several stacks of neatly folded clothes lay on the bed next to a suitcasealready half-full. The door to the walk-in closet was open, as was the bureaudrawer where she kept her panties and bras.

He raked the room with a trained gaze, his mind icing at the edges. Shewasn't in the bedroom. Nor, he discovered, in the master bathroom. d.a.m.n.

Worried, now, he dropped the flowers next to the suitcase and unsnapped theholster holding his .45. Moving quickly, his mind already ticking intowell-worn grooves, he headed down the hall to Jimmy's room.

The door was ajar, the room beyond silent. The fear came hard and fast, like the slug that had taken him down. Almost as quickly, he blocked it out.

Heart thudding, he drew his weapon. Standing to one side, he used his freehand to nudge open the door. He saw the pint-size bed shaped like a squad car,small shirts and shorts, neatly folded.

He edged inside, then went cold.Ria was lying on the floor, in the fetalposition. Her face was obscured by the dark curtain of tumbled hair. His heartwedged in his throat as he knelt down, his hand already reaching for herpulse.

She moaned then, and stirred. His hand shook as he lifted her hair away fromher face. Her forehead was gashed, her eye already turning black. Blood oozedover half her face.

"Ria, baby. Wake up."

Her lashes fluttered open, and she stared up at him, her expression blank.And then suddenly, fear contorted her face, and she jerked.

"Oh, G.o.d, Grady," she cried, panic in her voice. "I heard a noise and ...Jimmy! Where's Jimmy?" She darted a frantic look around the room, her fingersclawing at his arm as she struggled to sit up.

Grady gathered her into his arms and folded his body over her. "Calm down,baby. I need you to be strong for a minute, okay? I have to call this in."

"No, no, I have to find him!" She was amazingly strong all of a sudden, amother desperate to find her son. His heart tore.

"Hold tight, sweetheart. I'll be right back." Moving fast, his mind focused,he methodically checked each room, calling his son's name, opening closets,looking under beds and behind furniture.

Eyes narrowed, weapon ready, he circled the outside, checked the garage, thevan, behind bushes.

Holstering the.45, he raced inside and up the stairs.Ria had made it to thebed where she sat bent over, her hand pressed to her head and her eyes closed.Concussion, he thought. And a stomach full of queasy eels.

He knew the signs.