Reckless: Hopkins Trilogy, #2

By Cali Moore

Clair likes her job and loves her brothers, but there are times she just wants to scream. Always the reckless one with an eye for the bad boys, her proper life get tiresome. Running into Raleigh Hix again offers a solution and she decides to take it. Malachi will just have to accept it. She hopes.

            Raleigh knows he's not the man for Clair and figures Malachi will throw him out as soon as he finds out Clair hired him. But Clair is determined and as stubborn as her autocratic brother. Now if she can just figure out how to keep a man who doesn't want to be kept.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cali Moore
• Release date: Mar 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393935933

Book preview

Chapter One

Raleigh looked at the satchel of bills, but didn’t bother to count them. He didn’t really care if he’d been shorted. He’d promised himself this was the last job he’d take along these lines and that was enough to worry about.

He didn’t have a clue what he was going to do now.

He snapped the satchel shut and nodded at his final employer. Well, Bentley, I trust you’ll keep a closer eye on your pie in the future.

You can count on it, Hix.

Another nod and Raleigh left the building. He considered heading across the border and spending some time with Maria, but rejected it. He’d known when he left the last time that he’d probably never go back. She’d been an easy woman to tolerate, but there was no challenge in it. Especially now that he was retiring, he’d need a woman with more spunk. He’d let Maria keep the house and eventually she’d find another drifter to keep her company when he could.

Maybe he’d be a better man than himself. He hoped so. Maria was a sweet thing and deserved a man’s love.

Raleigh Hix loved nothing and no one and never had.

It was both easier and safer. He didn’t want or need those sorts of ties with his life. That he’d never been seriously hurt was pretty amazing, but then he was usually a careful man.

A loner by choice, a drifter by necessity, the chase had been enough to keep him amused and content until the last few years. It had also seen his first failure, which was why he’d taken one last assignment. He didn’t want to hang up his gun on a failure.

Like Dancer, he’d needed the last blaze of glory before saying good-bye. He wondered how Dancer was doing with his fake knee. The last time he’d seen the man had been after his final performance in front of a New York audience. He hadn’t been walking afterwards, and probably didn’t again until he was trying out the new plastic. Or titanium. Or whatever they made fake knees out of these days.

Thoughts of Dancer, as always, led him to thoughts of Dancer’s sister. Clair had been a mistake and he knew it. He should never have touched that woman. Not because Dancer disapproved, but because he couldn’t forget her.

That wasn’t good. The Hopkins family was San Francisco elite. Dancer, whose real name was Malachi, had taken the ballet world by storm in his youth. His knees had forced him out of that world while still in his early twenties. The whole family now ran an exclusive inn near Tahoe that catered to married couples and relied on sexual fantasies to stay unique.

Clair... Just thinking about her made him wince. And burn.

He’d wanted Clair from the moment he’d first seen her in a casino. The woman Malachi had since married was in trouble at the time and she and Clair had come looking for the guy causing it. He’d been Raleigh’s current target. He was also Raleigh’s only failure. Another reason to prefer forgetting the Hopkins clan.

But Clair had spunk. Fire. She was beautiful and classy. She was honest and daring. Raleigh had made a deal with Malachi. He’d thought he’d won and taken Clair to bed. Later, he’d realized neither had won and the damage had been done. He’d really had no right to Clair, even if she was agreeable, which she most certainly had been.

She’d been an incredible lover. He thought often of those hot, steamy hours. Raleigh had no class, and knew it. He didn’t know any tender words. Clair hadn’t minded that for an afternoon, but he doubted he was the sort of man she would commit herself to. Not that he wanted a woman attached to him. No sir, not Raleigh Hix. He wanted no one dependent upon him with the possible exception of a dog. A big one.

Still, it was nice to know he could make a woman like Clair Hopkins hot enough to burn. He suspected that would be the memory he carried into hell with him.

Clair waited impatiently while Malachi kissed his wife endlessly. We’re going to San Francisco, Malachi, not the moon.

Malachi raised his lips, but not his head. You’ll be back in three days, Holly will be gone for three weeks.

And you’ll be there for a week of it. Stop worrying.

He rested his hand on Holly’s large belly. In case you’ve forgotten, little sister, she’s having my baby in eight weeks.

She’ll be back by then, Clair argued, And if it’s early, I’m sure the city doctors can handle it.

It better not be early, he growled at his wife. If I miss this, Holly, I’ll beat you.

It’s not going to be early, she assured him, grinning. Clair’s right. Stop fretting.

I do not fret.

She snorted. Just like you don’t dance anymore.

His eyes narrowed. Not like I used to.

Still more than you should. And do I nag?

What are you doing now? He asked, leaning down to pick up her luggage.

Stating fact. I’m the one who will be filled with worry about what you’re up to.

I’m not going to be wandering around the worst parts of the city. He’d met Holly just about a year ago. She’d appeared in San Francisco out of nowhere and had spent the month of December singing with, and for, the homeless. Malachi had first seen her at Pier 39 singing with an old man and a teen. He’d been enchanted, then curious, then obsessed.

It had taken a while, but he’d ended up making her his wife. He thought it the wisest thing he’d ever done. What he was allowing now, was possibly the stupidest. She was going back to be what the press had dubbed her a year ago. The Angel. Holly had brought a lot of attention to the homeless. The money she’d made on the pier had gone to them, the old man distributing it out to those most needy with no red tape or conditions.

This year, she would again appear on the pier and raise what she could. She was not to go to the small camps throughout the city without himself, Christopher, or Malachi’s childhood friend, Brent Kale, who was a cop. Malachi wasn’t worried that she’d disobey that order except for the next few days. Clair could be trouble with a capital T and if she decided she wanted to see the camps, she could convince Holly to go and sing for the kids in them so she could tag along.

He gave them both a stern look after seeing them into Clair’s car. Behave yourselves. It’s not just the two of you, but my son or daughter, as well. I expect you both to remember that. He prayed that reminder would be enough as Clair drove away.

It wasn’t, of course. Clair was shopping on the pier two nights later while Holly sang with Old Amos and a young black boy. She ran out of steam around nine and wandered back to where she’d left Holly. There was a large crowd around the trio, enjoying the music. Clair didn’t blame them. Holly was enough by herself, but with the two male voices harmonizing with hers, they were really quite exceptional. Of course, the visual helped. They were such an unlikely group even if they were awful people would pause to listen.

Clair settled herself on a bench and smiled at the odd trio. A twenty-nine year old very pregnant white woman, a scraggly old white man of indeterminate age, and a tough looking black kid who practically lived on the streets. She thought it beautiful that they could make such joyous music together.

She heard a few mutterings of, Angel between songs. One man even speculated on Holly’s virginal status and Clair grinned and chuckled to herself. Malachi would be disappointed if the city decided he wasn’t doing his manly duty and needed God’s help. Holly was only known in the city as ‘The Angel’. They hoped to keep it that way, but Clair doubted they would once Malachi arrived. He’d hover too close and the cat would be out of the bag. It was well known that he’d taken a wife and adored her. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that ‘The Angel’ was that wife once he got to town.

Raleigh stood on the other side of the crowd and listened. He could only see the backs of the performers, but he didn’t care what they looked like. The woman sounded like Dancer’s wife. He’d only heard her sing once, on stage, and she’d been marvelous, if nervous. The little Amish girl who’d left her home hadn’t struck him as the type to want fame and fortune.

The song ended, money was dropped into a bucket near their feet, and the crowd shifted and changed. He glimpsed a woman sitting on the bench opposite for barely a moment and stared even after more bodies blocked his view.

Like him, the woman was wearing a brown duster.

The trio began their version of The Little Drummer Boy and Raleigh skirted around the knot of people surrounding them, pulling his hat down low on his brow. He finally saw her face when an obvious cop approached and she looked up and smiled. The man was in plainclothes, but Raleigh could smell a cop. He couldn’t believe it when Clair jumped up and hugged the man. Even worse, the man lifted her off her feet and spun her around once. They both laughed.

He circled more to land just south of them and heard Clair tease, You never could dance, Brent.

He released her and smiled. I never wanted to. How is he?

You’d never know, she said happily. God, you won’t believe the way he walks! There’s almost no limp at all. He’s even dancing, but he swears he’s behaving himself and almost following doctor’s orders.

You always were blind to how much he hurt, he told her seriously.

No, Clair denied. I wasn’t. But like him, I wasn’t going to let it change anything. Especially not the way we behaved toward each other.

Brent Kale smiled and looked toward Holly. I can’t believe he married the angel, he said quietly enough that Raleigh barely heard him. I was with him the first time he saw her. He called them Peter, Paul, and Mary.

They sound a bit like them, though Holly’s voice is too high pitched.

Yeah, he agreed and nodded at his partner in the distance. I’ve got to go. Clair, he said softly. Behave yourself.

She grinned. But that’s so boring, Detective. And I never have broken a law, if you’ll disregard speeding.

If Malachi’s leg’s doing so well, you won’t be able to run far enough to get away if you do anything foolish with Holly or his baby.

Baby? Raleigh peered through the bodies, having to take a few steps to his left, to catch a glimpse of Holly. She was most definitely pregnant. Well, well, well, Dancer, you didn’t waste much time on that. He shook his head and returned his attention to Clair, who was again alone on the bench, packages surrounding her feet.

He remembered everything he’d rather forget about a certain afternoon in a lousy motel almost nine months ago.

Even worse, he still wanted her.

Raleigh hung around the pier, careful to stay out of Clair and Holly’s sight. Around ten, Holly and her partners ended the show. She put away her guitar and the two males walked off with the bucket after more safely stowing the money in their pockets. He wondered how much they’d brought in and what this stuff about the angel was all about.

Not to mention what the girls were doing out alone at night in the city without Dancer or Christopher. Dancer hadn’t struck him as stupid.

Clair left first and Holly trailed behind her at a respectable distance. Having nothing else to do, and incredibly curious, Raleigh joined the line. Clair went into the parking garage and Holly kept walking. He decided to follow Holly and was glad when she walked by where his bike was parked. He stood in a doorway and watched for Clair’s car. When it appeared, he followed behind several cars on his bike.

Clair pulled into little more than an alley and stopped. Raleigh hung back as far as he could and still be able to see. A couple of minutes passed before Holly appeared and climbed into the car.

They were acting like a couple of criminals. The thought amused him. Clair might be willing to cross a line or two, but he couldn’t see Holly doing so.

Holly, Clair said slowly. Can’t we just go to one place? Malachi will never know.

Holly glanced out the window. Things were different now. She hadn’t thought about the dangers that lurked where she’d gone last year. She probably wouldn’t have cared if she had. Last year she had needed the less fortunate of the world, not the other way around. She wasn’t the angel they all called her, it had been a selfish gesture on her part. It wasn’t this year. She wasn’t searching for peace anymore, or trying to fill the hole in her soul. Malachi had helped her do that. And Raleigh, she thought honestly. Raleigh had given her back her parents. She wondered where he was this Christmas season and prayed for him often.

He’s worried about us, she finally said.

Who’s going to hurt an angel? Is it really dangerous?

I never felt threatened, Holly admitted. But I was also a little numb. I probably wouldn’t have felt threatened if a junkie had put a knife to my throat for twenty bucks.

One place, Clair persisted. Please?

Holly thought about the child within her. The child that would never want for anything. Not love, money, or opportunity. The kids she’d sung to last year wanted for even less than that. They’d wanted food, a roof, a warm coat, and a reason to smile. She didn’t give them much of the material necessities, but she gave them the smiles. One place. There’s a wreck of a building in the south, near 101. There were a lot of squatting families in there last year. We could try there.

Raleigh couldn’t believe it when he followed the girls into an old, run-down industrial section of the city. The few people on the streets had no innocent reason to be out. There were no bars, no restaurants, or bowling alleys. There was nothing but businesses, closed for the night, most of them ugly and not the sort of places customers ever saw, being storage and shipping facilities. There were a lot of places claiming to be import/export concerns. If they were, the goods passed through and moved on before the locals ever saw them.

Clair pulled over in front of a building with boards on the windows. Abandoned, Raleigh was sure. In cities that rarely meant empty. Someone would be in there, running an illegal business, or living there. He cut his light and pulled over some distance away from them.

Two young men, one black and one white, approached as Holly struggled to get herself out of the car. She was large enough he wondered when she was due. She knocked her hat off and had to squat down and pick it up. Clair had opened the back door to get Holly’s guitar.

The young men paused and whispered to each other. Raleigh could tell they were more interested in Clair. Clair, with her tight jeans, boots, duster, and Stetson. Clair, with her flat belly. He didn’t think they had money on their minds.

Raleigh had only hung up his gun figuratively. Glad for that fact, he reached into his coat and pulled it out slowly. He was too curious as to what the girls were up to to move too soon, but if one of the little bastards touched either of them, he’d have to forget that. He may be rough, but he frowned at rape.

Clair and Holly realized at the same time they were being watched. It was Holly who spoke first. Merry Christmas, boys. Are the families still here?

The white boy grunted. Families? Down here? Get real, lady. Who’s your friend?

Her sister-in-law, Clair answered for herself. The squatters have moved on?

They both grinned. Gangs need a home too.

Raleigh wasn’t sure which one had said that, but raised his gun and trained it between them.

The boys approached, swaggering. They separated, the black boy going to Holly, the white toward Clair. Not liking that the car would be between them, Raleigh fired off a shot. It landed at the white boy’s feet. He jumped backward. I only miss when I mean to, boys, he drawled softly. Next shot will insure one of you never makes babies. Back off.

The black kid pulled a knife and Raleigh shot it out of his hands. I’m very good, and you’re just a kid. Do you really want to find out how much you still have to learn to be a man?

Who the hell are you? The white kid shouted, searching the surrounding shadows frantically.

Because he was having fun, Raleigh pulled the trigger again. This time it caught the knot of the bandana tied around his leg and the red scrap fell to the ground. Does it matter?

Both kids looked dumbly at the bandana, said, Shit, and ran in the other direction.

Raleigh chuckled, holstered his gun, and approached the girls.

Clair watched him in shock. Where the hell had he come from? She wanted to rage at him for loving and leaving her. She wanted to hit him for being the only man that had ever made her feel like a woman should in a shared bed.

She wanted to rip off both their clothes and repeat the experience.

Before he realized her intent, Holly stepped in front of him and hugged him. Thank you.

Does Dancer know you’re down here? He asked, relieved that she’d kept it brief. God, her stomach was huge. You carrying more than one?

Holly ignored that question. She was, but no one else knew it. Malachi wanted to know nothing, but twins ran in her family on her mother’s side and she’d known early on there were two. She didn’t ask the sexes, but she knew there were two. Both strong, both healthy, and that was all that mattered. She couldn’t wait to see Malachi’s face. No, and like you, he’d be furious, she replied to the first.

Raleigh sighed and glanced at Clair, who hadn’t moved. I suppose you think you have a good reason to be here?

Go to hell, Hix.

Ooh, I love it when you talk dirty, he drawled.

Holly rolled her eyes. Last year there were several homeless families squatting down here. I came a few times and sang carols for them.

He shifted his gaze back to her. Why?

Because it was the only Christmas those kids were going to have, and because I needed to remind myself what was important in life. Kids like that are more important than anything. Kids like I think you were.

Raleigh’s whole body tightened. And coming to sing a few carols made them all better? He bit out.

A Band-Aid. I know that. But like the Little Drummer Boy, it was the only gift I had to give them.

Raleigh couldn’t believe that those few words made him feel shame. He couldn’t find it in him to apologize either. He’d apologized once in his life, the last time he’d seen Holly and Dancer. You’d better go to safer ground, was all he said.

Come with us? Holly asked. For a drink? Maybe a bite to eat?

He looked again at Clair, who had moved to put the guitar back in the car. I don’t think so.

I’d like to thank you, Holly said softly.

He grinned. No need. I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.

You’re lucky the cops haven’t come and hauled you away, Clair informed him tartly.

Raleigh shrugged. Not likely. I do have a permit for this thing. He patted the hidden gun.

They give criminals permits for guns?

He looked at her coldly. Last I heard, this was still America, and the right to bear arms part of the Constitution. He tipped his hat at Holly. Give Dancer my regards if you want to admit seeing me again.

I will, she vowed. But Raleigh, what I really wanted to thank you for was my parents. Bringing them to New York to see Malachi and me. They’re in Pennsylvania now and we write regularly. She blinked back tears. Thank you for that. From all of us.

I screwed up with Stoner, he said simply. That hurt you and I wanted to make it right.

You made it better. She rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Merry Christmas, Raleigh Hix.

He raised his hand to brush her cheek, but dropped it before completing the gesture. The woman was a bit of an angel and it made him very uncomfortable. Even as it drew him toward her. Yeah. You too. Jesus, she was some sort of woman. He’d never known anyone so...sweet. He nodded at the car. Go on now. Get out of here and stay out of places like this. Squatters don’t squat long before they get thrown out by someone stronger. You won’t find anyone this year where they were last.

I didn’t think to ask Amos, Holly admitted. He told me last year where I could go without too much worry. I hadn’t thought about it changing.

Change is a given when there are no roots in the ground, he said slowly. Like a tumbleweed, we just blow where the wind takes us.

Holly moved to the door he opened for her. Where is it blowing you now?

I have no idea. He gave her a rueful grin. That’s part of its charm. He helped her in and looked across at Clair. Love your coat. It was one of the first things he’d ever said to her. It seemed fitting that it be the last.

Chapter Two

Holly allowed Clair her silence as they drove. She knew when Raleigh stopped following to insure their safety because Clair sighed quietly and stopped looking in the rear view mirror every five seconds. Malachi’s right, isn’t he? She finally asked.

About what?

That you and Raleigh...connected.

Clair laughed. That’s not the word I would have chosen.

What would you have chosen?

Clair thought about that for a while. Burned.

I like him, she said and let it go. Clair’s feelings for Raleigh, whatever they were, were her own business. Malachi claimed to hate the man, but Holly knew that was bluster. If Raleigh had never expressed interest in Clair, Malachi would have just claimed dislike. Holly suspected Malachi respected Raleigh and that he couldn’t figure out why was the source of his discomfort. They were nothing alike on the surface. Beneath, Holly thought they were kindred spirits.

She wasn’t so sure about Clair and Raleigh. Her concern was more for Raleigh than Clair. Raleigh wasn’t the sort of man that one would expect Clair to choose for a life partner. Clair was the sort Raleigh might aspire to. If she was only fascinated, it would be Raleigh who would be wounded. And he had obviously been wounded enough.

Clair pulled up to her childhood home on Nob Hill and stared at the large, elegant house. Few American cities had homes like this so close to downtown. It was one of the things that made San Francisco the