“I’ll tell the Wellers. I know they’ll be relieved.”
“There’s something else.”
She caught the note of uncertainty in his voice. “What is it?”
“Protective Services is willing to release Zach into his grandparents’ care. We can push for custody if that’s what you want, but according to Steiner, the authorities refuse to place the boy in the hands of a twenty-nine-year-old single female who has no previous relationship with Zach. Not when they can release him into the care of a highly regarded doctor and his wife who are the boy’s grandparents. I’m willing to go for custody myself if you think that’s best for Zach, but—”
“No . . .” She glanced across the room to where Zach sat next to his grandparents, laughing at something one of them said, his grandmother holding tightly to his hand. “I think he’s found a good home.”
And the bitter truth was, Zach was better off with the Wellers than with her. Carly was struggling to keep Drake Trucking afloat, working long hours for very little pay, and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. Add to that the trouble she was facing with El Jefe. Zach wouldn’t be safe with her, at least not right now.
“I hope he’ll visit me as often as he can,” she said, “but I think he’s going to the right home.”
“All right. I’ll tell Steiner your decision. With any luck, Archer will be in jail maybe as early as tomorrow and Zach will be able to go home with his grandparents.”
She smiled into the phone, happy for Zach but sad at the loss she was suddenly feeling. “I’ll tell them the news. Thanks for everything, Linc,” she said softly.
“Honey, you don’t need to thank me. That’s just what friends do.” Thecall ended. Carly held on to the phone for several more seconds before she turned and walked back to the table.
* * *
A storm blew in that night. A sullen black sky loomed overhead while the wind tore foot-thick branches from the trees. Great sheets of rain sliced into the walls of the ranch house.
“I don’t think you should go,” Carly said. “I think we should reschedule.”
It was one o’clock in the morning. Linc was heading to the yard, picking up one of Drake’s big Peterbilt tractor trailers and driving it down to Tex/Am Transport, where tomorrow the rig would be completely fitted with state-of-the-art surveillance equipment.
“Ever ything’s set,” he said. “Plenty of other drivers on the road tonight. I’ll be fine.”
“Even the weatherman didn’t realize we were going to be hit this hard,” Carly argued. “Some of the other counties have already had tornado watches.”
“Watches, not warnings, and none around here. It’s less than two hours to Dallas even in this weather. I’ll be there before the storm gets any worse. Tonight I’ll stay in the city, work tomorrow while the equipment’s being installed, then bring the rig back late tomorrow night.”
“I wish you’d wait.”
“Yeah, well, I wish you’d stay up at the main house, but apparently that isn’t going to happen either.”
Her chin went up. She hated the gaudy house and the reminder of the beauty queen Linc had married. “I’m fine right here.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “So I guess we’re both going to do exactly what we want.”
Carly just smiled.
“If anything happens, we’ve got armed men all over the property. The guy who heads the security team is Deke Logan. He knows you’re here and so does Frank Marino. I put Deke’s number in your phone and Frank’s is already in there. I can have Frank stay here if you’d feel safer—”
“I’ve got a brand-new Glock, thanks to you, and I know how to shoot it. You’re the one who’s going to be in danger out in that storm.”
He smiled faintly. “Can’t be helped, sweetheart. And I’ve driven in farworse than this.” He dragged her into his arms and kissed her so thoroughly, her stomach melted. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Carly followed him to the door. “You know which truck and where it’s parked, right?”
“You’ve only told me half a dozen times so yes, I know.”
“The night watchman knows one of the drivers is taking the rig out, so he won’t be a problem.”
“I know that, too. Now go to bed and get some sleep.” Determined to get his plan up and running, he headed out into the rain. His GMC sat rim-deep in mud as he climbed inside, started the engine, and drove off down the road. Rain pelted the windshield, making it hard to see, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t dealt with before.
Thirty minutes later, he was behind the wheel of a Drake tractor-trailer, heading for the Tex/Am truck yard off I-635 east of Dallas. This late and without any traffic, he could make the run in an hour and a half, but with the wind howling, the road wet and slick as glass, he planned to take it slow.
