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to the line again.”

      “Close? Ha! You were balancing on the sharp edge of a knife blade, Dylan. It’s a wonder you didn’t fall off onto the wrong side long before this.”

      “I know. And I’m sorry. If I had it all to do over again I hope I’d make better choices.” He studied the planks at his feet. “When it all began it seemed innocent enough. My part in it was technically within the law.”

      “Then why are we having this talk? What’s changed?”

      “I have,” Dylan said. He removed the dark glasses and looked straight at her.

      Grace was taken aback by the pain she saw in his expression, in his eyes. If they had not had the history of the past twelve years between them, she would have believed him in a heartbeat. “Why?”

      Watching his internal struggle, Grace was almost tempted to go to him and put her arms around his waist. She resisted. Waiting. Listening. Never dreaming he’d have anything earth-shattering to reveal.

      When Dylan said, “Because the children involved came from a baby-stealing ring,” she had to put a hand on the railing to keep her balance.

      “Babies?”

      It was barely spoken aloud, yet Dylan nodded. “Yes. I just found out. That’s why I decided to volunteer to provide the proof the police need to put a stop to it.” He paused. “I was hoping you’d be pleased.”

      “Flabbergasted is more like it,” Grace said, glancing over his shoulder to watch her own children play. “I can’t even imagine what those poor mothers went through.”

      “I can. I spoke with a friend of one of them on the phone. She got involved when she was a missionary in Mexico. The authorities are still trying to trace a baby she swears was taken, brought to the States and sold.”

      “That’s terrible!”

      “There’s more.” He reached for her hand and she let him grasp it for a few seconds before pulling away and folding her arms.

      “Go on. It can’t get much worse.”

      “Yes, it can. One of the men who had been trying to silence her—his name was Flores—was arrested and then murdered. In jail. So the authorities are no closer to nailing the higher-ups than they were before.”

      A heaviness settled in her chest. “You know who they are, don’t you?”

      “I have a fair idea about one or two. There’s still a lot of legwork to do but I think I’m the key. So do the cops.” He put his hand in his pants’ pocket and pulled out the flash drive to show her. “This is why I’m not in custody today. I was picking up this evidence for them.”

      “Now what?” With a shiver she couldn’t stop, Grace began to scan the nearby grounds as if sensing imminent threats.

      “I keep a low profile and wait, I guess. Once I’ve turned over these files to the cops they won’t need me anymore.” Dylan snorted derisively. “Of course I’ll have to find another job. I doubt my bosses will condone my change of heart.”

      “Will you be safe?”

      “Don’t tell me you care.”

      “Of course I do. The kids are already struggling to adjust because you’re not in their lives. What will it do to them if you go to prison?”

      “I don’t expect that to happen,” Dylan said. “At least I hope it won’t since I have something crucial to plea bargain with.”

      “Does anybody else know you have evidence?”

      “Not directly. I was noticed when I went by the office this morning but my regular files had been cleaned so nobody can possibly imagine what I was doing.”

      “You hope.” Grace’s emotions were on a rollercoaster and she could envision a precipice at the end where the track vanished. And Dylan with it.

      She started to pace. “What am I supposed to do about the divorce if you’re not around?”

      “Go ahead without me,” Dylan said. He shrugged so nonchalantly she wanted to scream before he added, “Of course you could postpone the final decree and see if you really need it.”

      “Because you expect to be murdered like that other witness who was killed in jail? Is that what you were thinking when you said I might become a widow?”

      “Let’s just say there’s an element of risk.”

      His nonchalant attitude galled. “I can’t believe this is happening, Dylan. If you don’t care about yourself, think of your children.”

      “I am thinking of them. And of all those other children whose futures changed because of me.” He began to pace the gazebo floor, hitting his opposite palm with his balled fist.

      “What, exactly, did you do?” she asked, worried that the answer was going to hurt worse than not knowing. Merely being associated with Dylan at this point was making her feel sullied.

      “The fewer details you have, the better,” he said.

      “Now you’re sounding like the Dylan McIntyre I know,” Grace countered. “Always in charge, always sure nobody else is smart enough to grasp fundamentals as cleverly as you do.”

      Returning to stand in front of her, toe to toe, he grasped her shoulders. The power and resolve emanating from him momentarily took her breath away. “Stop judging me by past performances and listen to me, Grace. I only came to tell you in person because I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me otherwise. I’m not going to give you any more details because I don’t want to put you or the kids in danger.”

      “How do you know it isn’t already too late?” she asked, ruing the tremor in her voice and hoping she looked far more courageous than she felt.

      “Because everybody knows we’ve been estranged for a long time and are almost divorced. And, because nobody needs to know how the authorities are finally going to be able to prove who I answered to, why I did what I did.”

      She twisted out of his grip. “Get real, Dylan. If these criminals are smart enough to steal babies and get away with it, what makes you think they won’t suspect you of divided loyalties?”

      She watched his jaw muscles working for long seconds before he spoke again. “I have no choice,” he insisted. “Even if I tried to back down at this point there’s no way I could go to work and behave as if nothing has changed. It was hard enough to casually walk through the office this morning.” He spread his arms, palms toward her. “Look at me, Grace. Believe how sorry I am. You have to.”

      Before she could form a suitable answer, there was a startling noise; a distant ping that made her husband jump.

      Dylan suddenly launched himself at her, carrying them both to the wooden floor and knocking the air out of Grace. “Get off me! What’s the matter with you?”

      “A shot! Didn’t you hear it?”

      “I heard something. How do you know...?”

      “The kids!” he rasped into her ear. “Go get the kids out of here while I draw their fire.”

      Stunned, Grace nevertheless rolled onto her knees as soon as Dylan began to stand. Watching him crouch behind the railing as if those widely spaced boards would afford adequate protection from another bullet, she was astounded by the way her heart went out to him in spite of everything.

      “Now,” Dylan shouted over his shoulder.

      He began to sprint away.

      Grace scrambled in the opposite direction toward her children. Kyle had apparently noticed the furor and had gathered his siblings together inside the walls of a miniature fort. Brandon was cooperating but Beth was screeching in protest.

      Grace scooped up Brandon, grabbed Beth’s hand and barely paused

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