Loving Baby
Tyler Anne Snell
This sexy tycoon has it all.So why is he searching for a baby?To Suzy Simmons, James Callahan is just the sexy-as-hell millionaire from her past. But when he draws her into his investigation of a murder they must race against time, and face unseen danger.
This sexy tycoon has everything... So why is he searching for a baby?
To Chief Deputy Suzy Simmons, James Callahan is the dark-haired, sexy-as-hell millionaire with abs from her past. But despite his megacharm and killer body, Suzy deeply distrusts him when he draws her into his investigation of a criminal’s murder. The courageous beauty is determined to get answers, not come-ons. As they race against time, James and Suzy face unseen danger with their case—and hearts—heating up.
The Protectors of Riker County
TYLER ANNE SNELL genuinely loves all genres of the written word. However, she’s realized that she loves books filled with sexual tension and mysteries a little more than the rest. Her stories have a good dose of both. Tyler lives in Alabama with her same-named husband and their mini “lions.” When she isn’t reading or writing, she’s playing video games and working on her blog, Almost There. To follow her shenanigans, visit www.tylerannesnell.com (http://www.tylerannesnell.com).
Also available by Tyler Anne Snell
Small-Town Face-Off
The Deputy’s Witness
Forgotten Pieces
Private Bodyguard
Full Force Fatherhood
Be on the Lookout: Bodyguard
Suspicious Activities
Manhunt
Visit millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) for more information
Loving Baby
Tyler Anne Snell
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-07859-7
LOVING BABY
© 2018 Tyler Anne Snell
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
This book is for Holli Anne. I’ve been waiting for a heroine that I thought you’d be proud of, and I think Suzy is it! She’s an awesome mom, an amazing person and is stronger than even she knows. Basically a rock-star human, like you! Thank you for being my beautiful, rule-breaking moth and also the best Anne out there. Love you to the moon and back, Perkins/Knope!
Contents
Cover (#u749e665f-c640-5ed4-9e5e-0fa278aa494b)
Back Cover Text (#u601237cc-cc98-5cc4-93c8-a190c2253e31)
Author Bio (#u48bda9e3-7576-5a91-96ea-9203e4eb9809)
Booklist (#u2b4d9bdb-1176-5f1f-8f00-744696f3c1dc)
Title Page (#uc5005d8f-97c4-5b48-9f1d-f40280a8a774)
Copyright (#u3cebdd8d-d362-55d0-b9b5-e2bc03355dc7)
Dedication (#u5655b8a8-a33a-5dd2-a40f-8434d40a8fe4)
Prologue (#ua95ea665-40d8-54a0-834a-32029220844e)
Chapter One (#u7865895b-55f4-5e6a-8f9f-fd618e67a81e)
Chapter Two (#ucda950a3-7510-55a4-95a6-8ac71dfd5980)
Chapter Three (#u1b14221c-d73f-5598-8c15-368d70d93ace)
Chapter Four (#ub959d1a7-d0bc-5d66-8694-cdc4f4e089b4)
Chapter Five (#ub8e25067-ab70-509a-9a1b-7ee2749f2767)
Chapter Six (#u56563ae1-f94d-57a5-b1a7-d0ad0bf4c98c)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#u74f89d21-a7a7-576e-bf3d-447dc5830b05)
“Well, this isn’t good.”
Suzanne Simmons looked down at the body with a growing sense of dread. It wasn’t strong enough to scatter her thoughts or turn her stomach cold, but it did warrant a worried glance at Detective Matt Walker, standing next to her. His face was hard, his eyes sharp as they scanned the dead man at their feet. He crouched down.
“No, this isn’t good at all,” he agreed. “Not if that’s Gardner Todd.”
They lapsed into thoughtful silence as each did their own private inspection of the man without touching him. He was in his midthirties, white and dressed in work coveralls. His boots were new but dirty, with maybe a few weeks’ use. He had a tattoo peeking out at his wrist, a silver ring on his right index finger and three bullets in his belly.
But if it was Gardner Todd, then his death was the least of their worries.
“I guess that, for once, our department of front porch justice got it right,” Matt said after a moment. “Our caller did hear gunshots and not a car backfiring.”
The detective was referring to the older woman named June who had called in to the Riker County Sheriff’s Department, swearing up and down she’d heard a gunfight at the abandoned warehouse two blocks over from her house. Both buildings were on the outskirts of Carpenter, Alabama, and that put the issue square in the sheriff’s department’s jurisdiction.
Though Suzy wouldn’t normally be the one to answer the call, and neither would Matt, they’d been only a street over when it had come in. She might be the chief deputy now, but her sense of obligation to her county hadn’t changed with her promotion. Her soul was forever that of the young deputy she’d been the first day on the job. She took pride in every aspect of her work, even when it was something small.
“Thank goodness for cordless phones, sweet tea and an abundance of free time,” Suzy said. “If she hadn’t been snooping on the neighborhood from her porch, we might not have ever found him.” She did another cursory look around the old saw manufacturing warehouse. The power had been off for years. Shadows dodged rays of light that filtered in from the hole past the rafters, and the few windows not broken or boarded up were coated in dust, pollen and mildew. Like the rest of the large, open room they were in. Suzy’s sinuses pricked something awful. She’d have to take an allergy pill when they got back to her Tahoe. “I don’t think this place gets visitors on a regular basis.”
“That may be true, but I don’t think he was dumped here after he was killed,” Matt said, rising. He pointed to the trail of blood that had first grabbed her attention when they started searching the building. “For whatever reason, he was here, and so was his killer.”
Suzy eyed the two doors at the end of the main room. The offices, most likely. They’d already passed the break room and bathroom up front.
“Let’s finish going through the rest of this place before we dig any deeper into him,” she said, pulling her gun back up. “If that is Gardner, then if all hell hasn’t already broken loose, it will soon. We need to get out in front of this as fast as we can.”
Matt agreed, and together they cleared the last two rooms before coming up to the back door. The lot the warehouse was on stretched wide but was empty. No people, no cars, just dirt, sun and a woman named June two blocks over, probably already gabbing to the whole town about what she’d heard. Which meant that whoever had killed the man inside had already left and had probably taken his car, too.
“I don’t like this,” Matt said at her side. “There’s only two kinds of people who would kill Gardner.”
“The brave and the idiots,” she supplied.
He nodded.
“Either choice doesn’t bode well for us. If you can kill the infamous Alabama Boogeyman, taking out a cop or two trying to solve his murder is easy pickings.”
Suzy sighed. The beginnings of a headache started to throb, pressure wrapping around her right eye. It was going to be a long afternoon and night, she knew. Which meant that allergy pill needed to come sooner rather than later.
“I’m going to go pop some sinus meds and call Billy directly,” she said after a moment of deliberation. “Go ahead and take some pictures of the body with your phone. While everyone knows I’m a fan of our wonderful Crime Scene Unit, we all know they can have lead in their feet. I’d rather have something we can refer to while we wait on them to process everything.”
“You got it, boss.”
Matt went back into the warehouse while Suzy went around it. Her head might have been focused and calm, but her gut muttered a warning. One she didn’t listen to as she moved along the small strip of dead grass between the building and the side parking lot. Something felt off, but she wasn’t sure what that something was.
Until she saw him.
A man wearing a jacket, despite the heat, hurried around the corner of the warehouse.
Between breaths, Suzy barely had time to register two things. She didn’t recognize him.
And he had a gun.
Suzy reacted on instinct, pulling her service weapon up and yelling all at once.
“Drop it right now!”
The man was just as fast. His gun rose up in tandem, like they had planned the routine. It was the only reason Suzy didn’t shoot right away.
She wasn’t sure who had the upper hand.
“Whoa there, buddy,” she said, hurrying over. “Sheriff’s Department.”
The man—thirties, dark hair, and thin-framed glasses—hesitated. Again, just like her, he didn’t put down his gun. However, unlike her, he wasn’t able to justify why he had one aimed at her in the first place. She was law enforcement. Who was he?
“Put your gun down!” Suzy yelled, voice a mix between grit and calm. She didn’t want to agitate the man if she could help it. She’d prefer to talk him down if possible. The fact that she wasn’t wearing a bulletproof vest was also a fact she was all too aware of. If she’d had the time, she would have cursed herself for leaving Matt before backup arrived.
But she didn’t have the time. All thoughts were focused on the detective only a building away from her.
The man pulled his trigger before Suzy’s brain could send the instruction to her finger to do the same.
The bang filled the afternoon air like it was a Fourth of July firecracker.
Suzy felt the weight of the world slam into her chest.
Then she was staring up at the sky.
Blue and white, and a little gray.
It was going to storm later. She hoped Justin didn’t miss the bus. His mimi wouldn’t be able to pick him up. Their car was still in the shop.
Another firecracker went off. Suzy tried to move to find the sound, but her body wasn’t listening.
“Officer down!”
A face swam into view. It didn’t belong to Matt. It didn’t belong to the man who’d shot her, either.
“You’re going to be fine,” he said. His voice was so smooth Suzy closed her eyes to savor it. “Hey, you stay with me, okay?”
But even though Suzy wanted to, she couldn’t follow the command.
Her last thoughts before diving into the unknown were about her son, the rain and the stranger with a voice like warm velvet.
Chapter One (#u74f89d21-a7a7-576e-bf3d-447dc5830b05)
James Callahan thrust his hands deep into his pockets and braced against the cold. It was ninety-two degrees outside but only thirty-eight in the freezer. When he’d set up a time to meet a man named Sully the Butcher, James hadn’t thought the place would be in a meat locker at the back of a restaurant downtown. It was a little too clichéd for his tastes. But he was nothing if not flexible.
“You wait here, old man. Or should I say, Padre. I’ll go get ’em.”
The young man—and that was being generous—was standing so close that the heavy scent of cheap aftershave invaded James’s senses. Not in a good way. Whoever this kid was, James bet his dad would be coming home that night to a nearly empty bottle of the stuff. Assuming he had a dad who was around. Usually people who nicknamed themselves Queso and worked for a man called Butcher didn’t have a normal home situation.
“I can see now why you have to make a reservation for this place,” James quipped. He tilted his head to the hunk of meat hanging off a hook right behind them. “It’s pretty crowded in here.”
James busted out a wide grin at his own joke, but Queso wasn’t amused. His exit was accompanied by an eye roll. The man guarding the door—with no nicknames that James knew of—kept his post without moving a muscle. Not that he needed to. Those muscles were thick and tattooed until there was more ink than bare skin. He didn’t need a nickname. His purpose was to intimidate without saying a word.
James bet he was great at that. Sully might not be world famous, but he did a good job of keeping his name in the minds of the criminal underworld throughout the state. His network wasn’t as big as that of the locals running the city of Kipsy a half hour away, but he didn’t let that stop him from dipping his toes into the rest of the county’s affairs. Still, regardless of Sully’s lack of infamy, if anybody found themselves in his freezer with muscle guarding the door, they had every right to worry.
But while James wasn’t a criminal, he wasn’t exactly a nobody, either.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the golden savior himself.” On cue, a small-statured man walked in and spread his arms wide. James was surprised for several reasons. One, the man was wearing a pink-collared shirt, khaki shorts and golf shoes. Two, he looked closer to James’s age of thirty-two than the old, weathered man he had been expecting. “Can’t say I ever thought we’d meet like this, but who am I to question fate?”
He extended his hand, and James shook it.
“I have to admit, I thought you’d make me wait a lot longer in here,” he said by way of greeting. “Make me sweat it, so to speak.”
Sully laughed the thought off.
“I’m not trying to get information out of you, Mr. Callahan. In fact, I hear it’s the other way around. And that is what interests me. As for the freezer?” He shrugged. “You know how the gossip wheel turns in this place? That doesn’t stop just because we’re not your average residents. If I don’t keep up appearances, then that might send the wrong message to some of my associates. They might start questioning me. And I don’t like questions.”
“But you agreed to meet me.”
Sully nodded. His hair, golden, thick and curly, was just another piece that didn’t seem to fit the man or his reputation. Then again, James knew that images didn’t always go hand in hand with reality.
“I don’t like questions, but I do like mysteries,” Sully informed him. “And it seems you walked into a big one.”
“Gardner Todd’s death.”
Sully nodded, and his humor dropped a few pegs.
“What happened to him is...troubling,” Sully admitted.
“That’s a nice way to put it.” James pulled a picture out of his pocket. “As is the man who presumably shot him.”
Sully took the picture and was polite enough to examine it like he’d never seen the image of the dead man before. James bet there wasn’t a cop or criminal who hadn’t already seen it. It wasn’t every day someone got the jump on the Alabama Boogeyman.
“You don’t think he was the one who shot Gardner?” That surprised the man. “I thought the sheriff’s department linked a gun he owned to the one that took out Todd.”
“They did, and I do think he shot him,” James conceded. “But what I don’t get is why.” He tapped the picture with his index finger twice. “This man’s name is Lester McGibbon—”
“An unfortunate name,” Sully interrupted to add.
“He lived in Atlanta and was suspected of corporate espionage but later cleared,” he continued. “The man drove a Prius, had a soft spot for rescue dogs and took his son on fishing trips almost every weekend during the summer. He was white-collar crime through and through. So why did he come all the way to southern Alabama to kill the infamous Gardner Todd?”
James could feel his adrenaline spiking with every new thought. Even if he’d asked himself these same questions during many sleepless nights.
“So that’s why you went looking for me,” Sully said, a grin pulling up his lips. If they had been anywhere other than inside a freezer, James would have mistaken the man for some rich tourist, getting ready for a trip down to the beach a few hours away, perpetually retired and two seconds away from pulling out a margarita and donning a visor. “Because ole Lester was white-collar crime.”
“It seems while everyone around here is still getting their hands dirty with armed robberies and drug deals, you’ve upgraded.”
Sully’s grin widened. Surprise mingled with pride lit his features, and his stomach rumbled with a laugh.
“Seems like the Bates Hill Savior is more well connected than I thought,” he said. “And here I thought you only spent that fortune of yours on good deeds and photo shoots, not collecting rumors.”
“They’re not rumors if they’re true,” James pointed out.
Sully conceded to that with a shrug.
“I suppose not.” The humor once again began to fizzle out. “Though I’d love to meet the people who provided my name and contact information to you. But I suppose you’ll keep that to yourself.”
James nodded. “You suppose correctly.”
For a moment, James thought Sully would make it a point to find out the sources James had used to track the criminal. Sully might have taken his people off the streets and put them into offices, but that didn’t undercut his abilities. Especially when he was trying to get something he wanted. You didn’t get the nickname Butcher for no reason. However, he returned the picture to James and went back to the original topic.
“After the media released Lester’s name, everyone in my line of work researched him. Not to mention, after he shot that woman cop, the entire county full of law enforcement tore through who he used to be. What makes you think I can answer questions all of those people couldn’t? And why, for that matter, do you even care about what happened to Gardner Todd?”
James lowered his voice. Not to speak more quietly, but to convey what he said next was fact.
“Because I’d owe you one, and having a favor from James Callahan is gold in your particular line of work. The rest is none of your business.”
A pregnant silence followed. It was just for show. James knew the moment the word “favor” had left his mouth that Sully was hooked. He was, at heart, a businessman first and foremost. He traded in deals and favors.
“That’s quite the offer,” he said after a moment. “No strings attached?”
James held up two fingers. “More like conditions,” he said. “No one gets hurt or killed for this information.”
Sully snorted. “You apparently haven’t heard of my persuasive charm. Who needs brutality when you can just smile and get what you want?”
James fought the urge to roll his eyes and continued. “And you call this number when you get anything.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it over. “That’s a private number. Only I should answer it. Which means you and/or any of your associates shouldn’t feel the need to stop by the house. Sound good?”
He could tell Sully wasn’t a man who was used to adhering to conditions he didn’t set, but again, he was staring at the golden goose.
“Whatever you say, Mr. Callahan.” The conversation was finished. They both knew neither one had any more to say. It was just theater when Sully motioned to the door. “I’ll see what I can find.”
Together they walked through the kitchen—past the staff and workers who didn’t bat an eye—and to the back door that led into the employee parking lot. Queso stood next to the door, wearing slacks and a buttoned-up shirt that hung awkwardly off his thin frame. He zipped to attention as Sully neared, and James was reminded of being in boot camp back in the day. Respect and a little fear. The driving need to prove oneself.
James knew that need well.
“Take Mr. Callahan back to his car,” Sully greeted him, then narrowed his eyes at the young man. “And make sure you go the speed limit this time. We’re in small-town Alabama. Not street racing through the city trying to win a big score. The cops here won’t have a hard time getting to you if you’re blowing through the streets.”
A look of quick shame followed by embarrassment crossed Queso’s face. Sully cracked a grin. “Then again, I’m sure James here could sweet-talk his way out of it. Last I heard, he was on particularly good terms with law enforcement in these parts. Especially the sheriff’s department.”
This time James didn’t fight the urge. He rolled his eyes.
“I’d stick to the speed limit if I were you.”
Because even though he’d killed Lester McGibbon before he’d had the chance to send another bullet into Riker County’s chief deputy, James had spent the last four months learning the hard truth about Suzanne Simmons.
She didn’t like him.
Not one bit.
* * *
“NO, SIR.” SUZY looked the sheriff dead in the eye and shook her head again. “There’s no way I’m doing it.”
Billy Reed chuckled. Just like he often did when he thought Suzy was being unreasonable. He’d made the same sound when he’d suggested she liked Jonathan Flynn in the seventh grade and even had the same look when he’d tried to set her up with Rick Carmichael right out of college. There were many more examples throughout their nearly lifelong friendship, but those two came to mind. Or rather, how she’d felt about those two specifically. It was a feeling she associated with the name Billy was trying to attach her to now. She may have loved the sheriff like a brother, but that didn’t mean she didn’t think he’d lost his mind from time to time.
“I’m not asking you to date him,” Billy pointed out, most likely knowing where her thoughts had gone. “I’m asking you to represent the Riker County Sheriff’s Department at the town-hall social tonight.”
“The social being held at the James Callahan estate,” she interjected.
Billy chanced a look of mild exasperation.
“You know, he’s not a bad guy. He single-handedly brought that town out of poverty. Not to mention he decided to make it his home. With all that money he could have his own island somewhere, but he chose Bates Hill, Alabama. That’s got to count for something.” Billy’s brow drew in. The look didn’t last long. “Though what he did for you is enough to say he’s okay in my book for life. I don’t understand why you’re still so against him.”
Suzy crossed her arms over her chest. She felt defiant. Protective. And she was trying to hide the scar between her breasts, even though her shirt was already covering it.
“I don’t trust him for the same reasons you like him,” she said simply. “His life trajectory doesn’t make sense. A trust-fund kid, party animal, gives the tabloids enough material for years before disappearing. Then bam! He shows up to a smaller-than-small town to put it back on the map ten years ago with no reason other than he just wanted to do something good?” She shook her head. “Sounds like a movie I wouldn’t even rent.”
“Just because we don’t know his life story doesn’t mean you should write him off.” Billy’s face softened. “And just because Bates Hill and its residents are under our jurisdiction doesn’t mean we need to know all of their secrets.”
“True,” she conceded. “But then, why was he out there that day, Billy? Why was James Callahan, of all people, at an abandoned saw manufacturing warehouse that just so happened to house the body of a murdered Gardner Todd?”
Billy’s eyebrows knit together. No matter what he said next, Suzy knew he wasn’t buying what he was selling. At least, not all the way.
“He was looking at real estate for one of his businesses. We even verified it with his attorney who showed up afterward. You already know that, and still you don’t believe him.”
It wasn’t a question. Still, she responded to it.
“I believe that money can buy a lot of things,” she said. “Including the loyalty of everyone around here. For all we know, his attorney spun the exact tale he wanted him to.”
“So you think, what? James hired Lester McGibbon to kill Gardner and then shoot you?”
Suzy could tell that Billy didn’t like being blunt about her being shot. It had been four months—four long months—and she still didn’t like it, either. That bullet hadn’t just hit her; it had very nearly killed her. Even now, she was still technically on leave from the department, unable to do field work for another month.
“No, I don’t think he hired Lester,” she admitted. “But I do think he’s connected to Gardner. Somehow. And he’s hiding it.”
“Then what better reason than to go tonight? You can represent us and satisfy your curiosity.”
Suzy tilted her head to see if she had heard him right. “You’re saying you’d be okay with me asking him some questions?”
Billy nodded. “If you think there’s something there, beyond the answers he’s already given us all, then who am I to stop you?” He crossed his arms over his chest, his expression suddenly stern. “Just whatever prodding you do, please keep it reasonable.”
Suzy couldn’t help but smirk. “When have I ever been unreasonable?”
The sheriff was smart. He didn’t answer.
* * *
QUESO WENT FIVE over the speed limit. James decided not to comment. Though the urge to get beneath the teen’s skin almost won out.
Teen. That was what James really figured the dark-haired boy was. A teen who worked for an up-and-coming criminal organization that was tapping into white-collar crimes.
James wanted to give him a speech, to question his motives and push the boy to create different life goals, but then he remembered himself at that age and couldn’t bring himself to deliver any lectures. What advice could he really give the boy that would ring true? He doubted repeating the speech James had gotten from his father all those years ago would light the fire that had moved him.
It had only been chance that, after his father had stopped yelling, the younger James had run into the bar where Corbin Griffin had been spending his last free night before taking off to San Antonio for basic training. The then twenty-year-old had shown James a way to prove himself outside of fame and fortune.
His joining the Air Force had surprised everyone; finding purpose and peace during his time with them had surprised him. Nine years after leaving, James still felt that swell of pride and gratitude for the time spent at his Special Operations job. Even when things had gotten hairy.
No, Queso needed his own Corbin Griffin. James doubted he would listen to him. Still, he wasn’t going to say nothing. After the car rolled to a stop in the parking lot James’s truck was in, he drew back and met the teen’s stare.
“I don’t know if Sully will get your help on what I’m looking for or not, but either way, it could be dangerous,” he warned. “I suggest you stay away from it, but I’m sure that might only make you want to do it even more. Either way, if things get too hairy, you can reach me here.” James pulled a card from his wallet. It had a different number on it than the one he’d given to Sully. “Or if you just want a different option altogether.” He shrugged. “A few of my companies have scholarship programs that could use hardworking entrepreneurs. If that falls into your wheelhouse.”
Queso cut a grin. “Haven’t been called an entrepreneur before,” he said. “Doubt a fancy title like that would even stick to someone like me. Don’t you think?” Sarcasm. It blanketed his tone and posture. An invisible defense mechanism that James himself had used many times before in his youth. “Why don’t you run along there, Padre, and leave your troubles to the boss?”
James got out of the car, hands up in defense. He left the card on the seat. Queso eyed it but didn’t say anything. Maybe that was a good sign.
James finally got what he was hoping for. As he watched the little Miata take off down the road, thoughts of Suzanne Simmons were replaced by Gardner Todd.
And his killer.
If he could find out who wanted him dead, then maybe he could figure out Gardner’s secret.
What did you want to tell me, brother?
Chapter Two (#u74f89d21-a7a7-576e-bf3d-447dc5830b05)
Suzy stood on the fringe of the crowd, pondering life.
Not in general, of course—she didn’t have the patience for that one, or the right amount of caffeine in her, either—but on her own life. More important, the path that had led her, along with the Riker County Sheriff’s Department, through the thickest of thicks and the thinnest of thins, all the way to standing on a rug that probably cost more than her two-bedroom rental.
It was a solid piece of decoration, almost as big as the foyer, and most likely heavy as the dickens. Without even attempting to lift the thing, Suzy could feel its weight in her muscles. While she struggled with biting the bullet and buying a rug from Target, James Callahan had probably imported the thing from Sweden or somewhere equally expensive.
It made her want to grind her teeth. And make sure to keep her heels off it, if possible. Her mother had taught her to respect others’ property. Even if she didn’t respect the people who owned it.
Suzy sighed. She probably did need to cut the man who had saved her some slack. Whether he lived in a mansion or a shack shouldn’t matter. He’d killed the man who had tried to kill her and then kept her from bleeding out in the dirt. He had also visited her in the hospital more than a few times. And when he couldn’t come, he’d sent flowers. But no matter how nice the man was, it was hard to reciprocate when you knew he was lying.
“If you keep making that face, it might get stuck like that.”
Suzy turned to a woman she’d been hoping to see when tasked with attending the social.
“Well, if it isn’t Mrs. Reed, fashionably late, of course.”
Billy’s wife, Mara, beamed but didn’t deny the accusation. Instead, she pointed to her protruding belly.
“I blame this kid of mine,” she replied. “He’s been tap-dancing on my bladder all day. You’re lucky Leigh got us here when she did. We had to stop as soon as we got into town for a bathroom break.”
Leigh Cullen was Mara’s business partner and friend; together they ran an interior-design firm in Carpenter. Over the last year it had really taken off. They were currently designing an office-complex opening in the heart of Bates Hill. While Suzy knew Mara wasn’t a fan of fancy parties and schmoozing, she knew it was hard to pass up a chance to meet James Callahan in his own home. He might have been a millionaire, but he rarely opened his house to the public.
Now Suzy couldn’t help but wonder why.
A hush fell over the crowd before she could voice the question. The man of the hour appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Mistrust aside, Suzy felt her focus snap to attention.
James Callahan was a man you immediately thought about taking to bed. At least, Suzy did. He was tall, broad shouldered and admittedly good-looking. He wore his black hair short, cropped above the ears with some height at the top. It made him look authoritative and crisp. The consummate businessman. Yet the most attractive thing about him, for Suzy at least, was the charm behind every smile. That was his weapon. And that was what he wielded against the audience.
“First of all, I want to thank each and every one of you for coming out,” he began, crystal-blue eyes scanning the people closest to him. Town council members, the local police and fire chiefs, and the mayor. The “it” people of Bates Hill. “I know it’s been a stressful year, so I’m glad that I was able to offer up some levity by way of a party. You all work very hard to make sure this town stays afloat, and for that, I say thank you. And, as a token of my appreciation, instead of boring you with a speech, how about this—” He scooped a champagne flute off a waitress’s tray at the base of the stairs and held it up. “Please make sure you take advantage of the food, drinks and live music on the patio! And have fun!”
He cast that charming smile out to the crowd as a whole. Its effect spread quickly. Soon even Mara was grinning.
“I think that man could read the alphabet and people would cheer,” she whispered. Suzy snorted but didn’t look away. James’s gaze swept over her and then stopped. Heat rose from her belly, but she tried her best to keep it from reaching her cheeks.
“Why don’t we go check out that food?” Suzy suggested, breaking the stare.
She might have had questions for the man, but now that she was here, she needed time to collect her thoughts.
It didn’t help that James Callahan looked damn good in a suit.
* * *
THE PARTY WAS going better than he’d expected. It was nearing ten at night, and most of the attendees were still there, the party in full swing. They rotated in and out of the house, splitting their time between dancing, drinking and mingling. Most did, at least. James noticed the chief deputy kept the same glass and company for most of the party. Only briefly did she step out to talk to the police and fire chiefs before they left.
James was surprised at how much of his attention Suzanne kept without even trying. Even when carrying on his own conversations, he felt hyperaware of her presence. Like she was a glowing blip on his radar. A sound he always heard. A woman he couldn’t ignore.
It was surprising at best, distracting at worst.
The way her brow furrowed when she was having a particularly serious talk and the small smile she wore when he bet she was trying to be polite were details that filtered in seconds after he found her again in the crowd. She seemed most comfortable with the sheriff’s wife and her friend. When talking to them, her body language changed to become more relaxed, more animated. She’d tuck her long dark hair behind her ear or widen her brown eyes before laughing. He knew those eyes were the color of honey in the right light.
He’d looked down into them when holding her bleeding body.
James had wanted to approach her the moment he saw her in the crowd, but given the cold shoulder she’d shown him for the last four months, he decided to keep his distance. She didn’t trust him, that much he could tell.
And she had every right.
Because Gardner Todd wasn’t just some thug gunned down as justice for his past deeds.
He was James’s brother.
“Mr. Callahan.”
James turned to one of his friends who ran security for his events. Douglas was several inches shorter and as bald as a worn tire. James had once seen him body slam a man much bigger than either of them like it was a breeze.
“I told you not to call me that,” James said after excusing himself from the group he had been in. “Makes me feel old.”
Douglas snorted. “Just wait until I tell you who just called me and what it was about.” James already felt the sigh coming out of his mouth before Douglas could explain.
“Let me guess—it starts with Chelsea and ends with pain-in-my-backside.”
Douglas laughed. “You got it, boss.”
James rolled his eyes but didn’t feel any real annoyance. He flipped his smartwatch around to see the date.
“Considering her bio lab test was last week, I’m assuming this call has something to do with the grade she got on it?”
But Douglas kept tight-lipped. “She wants you to call her back after the party,” he said. “And told me I’m not allowed to tell you one way or the other.”
James couldn’t help but laugh. “I should worry how easily my sister wraps you around her finger, but then again, I’m there, too.” He clapped Douglas on the shoulder. “I’ll go call her now. I didn’t help her study for that lab every weekend for the last month for nothing. Keep this party going in my absence. If anyone asks where I went, just tell them I’m in the wine cellar getting toasted.”
It was Douglas’s turn to laugh as James left the main room and went to the small set of stairs in the kitchen. He bounded up them two at a time and headed toward his office. He pulled out his cell phone and was calling before he even reached the doorway.
* * *
SUZY WATCHED AS James was pulled from his conversation by a member of the security team. Whatever the situation was, it didn’t appear to be serious, yet after they were done the man of the hour left the party. Curiosity filled her so quickly that before she had time to process what she was doing, Suzy had excused herself from Mara’s side and followed the millionaire.
Billy’s request that she question James within reason repeated in the back of her mind as she waited a few seconds before going up the stairs behind him. She walked slowly to keep her heels from making a sound until she was standing in the upstairs hallway. If James caught her now, she figured she could come up with a valid excuse for following him. Yet she found her feet stalling on the landing.
What exactly was she hoping to find?
Did she really expect the man to buckle beneath her questions, giving up answers that she had been looking for?
Suzy felt a swirl of adrenaline in her gut. Something she’d often experienced out in the field. A feeling she’d been missing for the last four months. For one small moment, she reveled in how it made her heart beat faster, her senses more alert and her mind more clear.
If James really was involved with what had happened to Gardner Todd, then that meant he was someone to exercise caution around. Add in his fortune and connections and being on his own home turf?
She was putting herself in a dangerous situation.
She was being careless.
Like not wearing her vest four months ago.
Suzy turned toward the window and stopped before going back down the stairs. The scar between her breasts heated up. She fisted her hands, remembering the look on her son’s face when she’d woken up in the hospital. He’d just turned ten and was trying his hardest to prove to her that he was old enough to keep it together. He’d been trying to be strong. For her. For himself. It wasn’t until she promised him it was okay to cry that he’d broken down on her lap.
The adrenaline spiked in her belly. Her nails bit into the palms of her hands.
Suzy never wanted to put him in that situation again. Not if she could help it. Not when she could avoid it.
She’d figure out what James was hiding, but not like this. Not creeping around in the shadows of his house. Not by putting herself in compromising positions.
No, she’d figure it out another way.
A safer way.
Suzy nodded to herself and fully intended on going back downstairs to the party, but movement outside the window caught her eye. The side lawn wasn’t lit up like the back patio, but there was enough glow from the hanging lights that she could just make out someone moving toward the house. Slowly and not at all steadily.
Limping.
She sucked in a breath as the man moved closer. The light from the kitchen window caught him.
That was when she saw the blood.
He was covered in it.
The swirl of adrenaline in her stomach upgraded to a storm.
Chapter Three (#u74f89d21-a7a7-576e-bf3d-447dc5830b05)
Suzy hurried down the stairs, not minding this time that her high heels hit each step and sounded off like thunder crashing in the night sky. The chatter from the party in the center of the house kept going, uninterrupted. That meant no partygoer or security guard had spotted the bleeding man.
The cop in her rattled off four instantaneous questions in her head as she stepped toward the side door.
Who was the man?
What had happened to him?
Why had it happened to him?
Why was he at James Callahan’s town social?
No answers came as she flew out into the night and straight toward the unknown. The lights from the backyard cast a glow across the small patio and garden, but were still too weak to show her any new clues to help answer any questions. The blood was there, dark against his face and arms, but she couldn’t be sure where it had come from. His struggle to walk made her assume it was at least partly his.
“Whoa there, buddy,” she said, trying for soothing tones while staying cautious. She went at him with one arm out, like a deputy trying to direct traffic, while the other hung back so her hand was never too far from the holster hidden against her thigh. If she needed to get to her gun fast, she could. However, it would be interesting for any bystanders, considering she’d probably have to rip the dress to get to it. A small price to pay for being prepared, but still, she hoped she wouldn’t have to ruin it. Not only because she thought it was beautiful, but also because it was on loan from Mara.
The man’s head moved enough that, even in the poor light, Suzy knew he was looking at her. Now she was close enough to guess that he wasn’t a party guest or security. Instead of a suit, he wore jeans and a graphic T with some band’s logo on it in neon orange. In fact, the more she tried to find the source of his bleeding, the more Suzy wondered if he was a man at all. He seemed too young.
“Inside,” he groaned out, voice surprisingly strong. “I need to get inside.”
He lurched forward. Suzy’s reaction time since the accident had slowed, but she still managed to dance away from touching the blood on his arm. She latched on to his wrist instead.
“What’s going on?” she tried. “I’m with the sheriff’s department. I can help.”
The man reacted like she’d stung him. Suzy felt his arm muscles coil a split second before he pulled out of her grip. The sudden momentum, plus the fact that she was unaccustomed to wearing heels, threw her off balance enough that she was forced to let go or fall.
“Get away from me,” he hissed. “Where’s Mr. Callahan?”
He turned back to the house, eyes wild, but that didn’t mean she was done with him. Suzy took one step closer, pivoted enough to bring her back leg forward and kicked out at the man. The sound of fabric splitting was followed by a grunt as her foot connected with his stomach. She wasn’t trying to hurt him, but she was trying to control him.
He toppled over and hit the ground. Suzy didn’t wait for him to get his bearings. She flipped off her shoe and pressed her foot against his shoulder to keep him down.
“I’m Chief Deputy Simmons,” she announced. “You will tell me what’s going on and you will do so in a calm manner.”
The man’s eyes widened and flicked toward the house before coming back to her.
“I need to talk to Mr. Callahan,” he said. “Right now!”
He bucked up against her foot, but Suzy wasn’t having it. She applied enough pressure to keep him down.
“What you need is medical attention,” she pointed out. “You’re covered in blood.”
The man twisted beneath her weight. “No, I don’t,” he managed around his squirming. “What I need—is to—talk to—Mr. Callahan.”
Suzy’s curiosity overrode her caution. She leaned over, careful not to press against him too hard, and fixed the man with a stare he couldn’t misinterpret as something he could ignore. Even in the darkness.
“Tell me why, or I’m calling in the cavalry right now.”
This time he didn’t fight back. That didn’t mean he was calm, though—not by any means.
“They found him,” he practically yelled. “And now they’re going after him!”
Suzy tilted her head on reflex, but she never got to ask another question. Someone else beat her to it.
“Going after who? Me?”
Suzy’s hand was at her holster in a flash. The cool night air moved across her upper thigh, confirming that she had, indeed, already ripped the dress. She didn’t let up off the man as she turned to the new voice. Though it wasn’t new to her at all.
“Going after who?” James repeated. His expression was hard, but Suzy couldn’t read what emotion made it so.
The man struggled against her foot again, but this time Suzy let him up. She kept her hand on the butt of her gun.
“I don’t know,” he started, with eyes only for James. “But—but Sully gave me this address to get to you.” He fumbled a hand into his pocket. If he hadn’t been wearing tight jeans, showing he wasn’t carrying a gun, Suzy would have pounced. But now that James was here, her captive’s earlier feistiness had seemingly vanished. When he pulled out a paper and handed it to James, his hand shook. “He said it’s what you’re looking for. New information. I don’t know who they are or who they’re going after. He didn’t have time to tell me.”
Suzy didn’t have to know the situation to understand that the stakes had just risen. James looked over the paper. His eyebrows threaded together.
Maybe he didn’t know the situation, either. Confusion blanketed his expression.
“What happened to you?” he asked. This time, she heard the concern before she saw it. It was familiar in nature. James knew the man. “And who did it?”
Suzy half expected the man to remain silent, as he had with her, but again, having James there seemed the key to unlocking answers. The man took a deep breath.
“You were right,” he said. “It was too dangerous.” He raised one hand up toward the little light they had. Blood. Some was dry. Some wasn’t. “It isn’t mine,” he said. “The blood isn’t mine.”
Suzy glanced at James. He still looked as confused as she felt.
“Whose blood is it?” she had to ask.
The man’s gaze stuck to his hand.
James crouched down so he was at eye level with the other man. “Queso, whose blood is it?” Suzy didn’t have a chance to question the name. She was holding her breath for an answer. “Queso?”
James reached out and grabbed his shoulder. It did the trick in focusing him.
“It’s Sully’s,” Queso finally answered, voice low. “I don’t even know if he’s still alive. He made me run when the shooting started. He told me that getting you that address was too important.” He let out an exhalation. It deflated him. “Padre, he said you’re already running out of time.”
“Okay, I’ve heard enough.”
Suzy placed her hands up in defeat. She wasn’t about to let this show go on any more. The story was lost on her, everyone’s motivations just as hazy. She’d made a promise to herself not to willingly walk into situations exactly like the one she’d just walked into. Having a powwow with a man who had just confessed the blood he was covered in was not his own? A man who had limped from the dark of night to James Callahan’s estate instead of to the police?
It was too much.
“I’m calling this in.”
“You can’t,” Queso said hurriedly. His haze had been replaced with sheer panic in seconds. It hit every syllable in his words. “If anyone knows I talked to the cops, I’m done for.” He shook his head and turned to James. “And you’ll be out of even more time. Please, Padre, don’t let her call them in.”
Suzy grabbed her discarded high heel and tried to cool her mounting anger before it came to a head.
“I am the law,” she reminded him. “And no amount of money is going to erase that fact. Now, can you walk to the house or do we need to carry you?”
Queso flapped his mouth open and closed. James answered for him.
But not with what she wanted to hear.
“Maybe we should go inside and take a moment to think this through, Suzanne.”
If there was one thing Suzy disliked more than a man trying to tell her how to do her job—or when not to do it—it was a man calling her Suzanne.
“Either call me Suzy or Chief Deputy Simmons,” she snapped. “And there’s nothing to talk through. Something is going on, you’re in the middle of it and I’m going to get answers this time around. Honest ones.”
She grabbed Queso’s wrist and pulled up. James helped but kept talking.
“I need to go see what’s at this address. Now, not later,” he tried. “You heard him. I’m running out of time.”
Suzy whirled around as the side door banged open. The man James had been talking to before he’d gone upstairs had a towel in his hand.
“Listen, Suzy, this is my head of security, Douglas. Let him watch Queso until we know what’s here.” He shook the paper with the address on it. “Then we can do whatever you feel we need to do. Please.”
All three men looked up at her.
“You’re out of your mind,” she exclaimed. “A bloody guy limps to your party and gives you an address, and then you want to go off without anything else to go on? Even if I wasn’t law enforcement, I would think that’s crazy.”
Then James did something that surprised her. He almost closed the space between them, his blue, blue eyes never leaving hers.
“I know you don’t trust me,” he said, voice low. “You don’t believe that I just happened to be out there that day...and you’re right.”
Suzy felt her eyes widen.
“Then why were you?” she had to ask.
Would it be this simple to get her answer?
James angled his body slightly, as if he didn’t want Douglas to hear what he had to say next. Suzy couldn’t help herself. She leaned in a fraction.
“Because Gardner Todd, my brother, asked me to meet him there.” Before Suzy could react, he continued. “He said he needed to tell me something important. I never learned what that was, never even had a clue, either. Until this.” Suzy glanced at the paper in his hand. “Listen, I’m not like my brother, but I am like you. I want answers, too. So let’s go get some before it really is too late.”
There was so much to process that Suzy couldn’t land on any one point or question. In part, that was because of the pure urgency behind his plea. It bled through his words and into her. So sincere. So real.
James wasn’t the only one surprised when she nodded.
“Okay, I’ll go with you,” she agreed. “But I’m going to need answers on the way. And, Mr. Callahan, if you lie to me again, no one will be able to help you. Not your money, not your lawyer, not even the entire town of Bates Hill. Got it?”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter Four (#u74f89d21-a7a7-576e-bf3d-447dc5830b05)
Suzy shook her head. She might have followed the millionaire to and into his truck, but she was still having a hard time believing what he’d said.
“Gardner Todd had no family,” she said. “At least, nothing in his files ever said that at any point he had a brother. Let alone that you’re him.”
The truck hit a series of bumps that rocketed Suzy off the seat. James threw his hand out to steady her. His palm pressed against her rib cage. Through the thin material of the dress, she could feel the heat of his skin. It momentarily distracted her.
“Like you guessed, some people will do anything for the right price,” he said, unaware that his contact had put a hiccup in her thoughts. “And my father was all about knowing what somebody’s right price was. It was easy to keep Gardner out of the spotlight. Easier, too, when Gardner ran away at sixteen.”
“But why?” Suzy interjected. James pulled his hand back, setting it on the steering wheel. The dark night kept flying by the windows. “Why would he erase Gardner like that?”
A small smile pulled at the corner of James’s lips. In the dark of the cab, Suzy couldn’t tell if it was a happy one. Given the subject matter, she doubted it.
“Gardner wasn’t a crazy kid, if that’s what you’re after. But he drove our dad crazy. And it went both ways. My dad wasn’t the easiest man to get along with, and for whatever reason, Gardner got the short end of the stick with him. They never had one big fight, just a hundred little ones. It was like everything he did rubbed Dad the wrong way.” He shrugged. “And there’s only so much anger and disappointment and resentment you can shell out on a kid before they eventually either become the person you made them out to be or a completely different person, despite what you tried to make them.”
“You’re talking about Gardner Todd here,” Suzy said, still in disbelief that he was related to the man next to her. “The Alabama Boogeyman. The fixer who gets hired by the highest bidder. Notorious across the state for his role as being basically the best criminal handyman.”
James shrugged again. “I never said he was perfect.”
The truck slowed enough to hook a right. Beneath the tires was nothing but dirt and rock. They were in backcountry and only getting farther into it.
“If he really was your brother, father issues aside, why run away and give up a fortune? Especially if he could have inherited it.”
The smile—and whatever it meant—disappeared from James’s lips.
“I never got to ask. I was thirteen when he left. He sent birthday cards, but the last time I talked to him in person was a few days after Dad passed.”
“But you were going to meet him at the warehouse.”
James stiffened, then nodded.
“In the last few years he’d call me occasionally to talk. Nothing devious or anything. Just about how I was doing and checking up on our sister, Chelsea, mostly. Honestly, I think he regretted not having a relationship with her, but as you’ve pointed out, he was in with the worst kind of crowd. And he knew it. He never tried to come around while I raised her, and I never invited him to.”
“Until four months ago,” Suzy offered.
“He called and I knew something was off. He said there was something he had to talk to me about. In person. Something important.” James tightened his grip on the steering wheel. His knuckles turned white. A muscle in his jaw twitched. “By the time I got there...well, you know.”
Suzy fidgeted in her seat. “So you have no idea what he wanted to tell you?”
He shook his head. “I have no idea what he wanted or why he chose to meet there. Or who wanted him dead. I might not be in law enforcement, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t heard about his reputation. If someone wanted him dead, it was a bold move. One not many would make. Especially not Lester McGibbon. At least, not on his own.”
Suzy and Matt had already agreed on that point. Nothing in Lester’s history suggested he would go from white-collar crime to taking on Gardner. Someone either bold or stupid had ordered the hit and gotten the man to do it.
“You think what Gardner wanted to talk to you about was related to his death,” she guessed.
James reduced the truck’s speed and leaned forward to get a better look ahead.
“When the Alabama Boogeyman has a secret for you and then gets shot three times before he can tell?”
“It’s hard not to connect the two,” she admitted.
“Damn hard.”
He motioned out the windshield, but Suzy was already pulling out her gun. The country road was funneling them toward a house in the distance. Not a farmhouse—it was too small, and there was nothing else around the property that suggested the owners dealt with animals or crops—but something more quaint. One lone exterior light hung over the front door. There were no cars around.
“You’ve never been to this house?” she asked, already knowing the answer. In profile, she could see the way his brows pinched together. Along with her, he was seeing the house for the first time.
“I’ve never been here,” he confirmed. “I didn’t even know there were houses this far out here.”
Bates Hill might have been a small town, but its country land ran for a good chunk of miles. As far as Suzy could recall, she hadn’t been out here, either. Which meant she needed to be on her A game.
As easy as it had been to not trust James during the last four months, she couldn’t help but believe that he believed the tip he’d gotten was genuine.
Suzy took the safety off her weapon.
James didn’t stop in front of the house. Instead, he drove a circle around it and parked facing the road they’d come from. No one stirred inside.
“Ready, Chief Deputy Simmons?” There was a hint of excitement in his voice. It matched the small dose of adrenaline building in her. The danger of the unknown. The promise of getting justice. All in a day’s work.
“Yes, but at the first sign of trouble I’m calling in the cavalry. Got it?”
James snickered. “I wouldn’t have thought otherwise.”
They got out of the truck and fell into a surprisingly comfortable rhythm. James led the way to the door and knocked, and when no one answered, he stepped to the side. He tried the doorknob. It turned, but he didn’t open the door. Instead, he gave Suzy a look that made pride for her job swell in her chest. She pushed her shoulders back, brought her gun up, and looked ahead and nodded. James opened the door wide and waited as Suzy pushed in first, gun ready.
“Riker County Sheriff’s Department!” she yelled, quick on her feet.
No one yelled or jumped out, but Suzy didn’t slow. She went through the living area as soon as James turned on the light. No sign of anyone. She moved to the one bedroom and the attached bathroom, flipping on the rest of the lights as she went.
“It’s clear,” she called after checking the closets. She holstered her gun and went back to the living room. “Anything you recognize?”
The room was small and open to the kitchen. A modest furniture set centered the room while a bookshelf took up half the wall near the front door. James stood in front of it, scanning the books and odds and ends it housed.
“I don’t know,” he answered after moving to the next shelf. “Nothing so far. No pictures or anything that I think would constitute a secret worth killing to protect.” He reached over and pulled out a book. “Unless someone really didn’t like Romeo and Juliet.”
Suzy walked to a chest against the wall and opened it. It contained a few handwoven blankets and a shoe box. Carefully she lifted the small box out.
“Do you think this is where he lived?” she had to ask, taking the lid off. “Gardner, I mean. Did he ever tell you where he stayed?” The box was filled with blank envelopes and a pen.
“That’s just another question I never asked. Though I assumed he had a place north of Birmingham. Definitely not here.”
“Maybe this place is the secret.”
Suzy placed the box to the side and pulled the blankets out. She tossed them onto the couch.
“A secret about what?” James asked, his focus still on the bookcase. “That whoever stayed here liked isolation and Shakespeare?” Suzy could hear the frustration in his voice.
“Your source could have been pulling your leg,” she pointed out.
He turned and their eyes met. Blue glass. Sharp and clear. “You saw Queso. Do you think he was lying?”
“I think he was scared and confused,” she admitted. “He might have misinterpreted what he saw or was simply given the wrong information on purpose.”
James didn’t agree. He didn’t even have to shake his head to get that point across. He squared his shoulders defensively. “My source wouldn’t do that.”
He didn’t elaborate past that, and Suzy didn’t push. He stalked past her into the bedroom.
James might have told her one of his secrets, but he certainly had more up his tailored sleeves. Maybe jumping into his truck without a second thought hadn’t been her best move. Answers be damned.
They spent the next several minutes in silence, both working their rooms. Suzy checked the side tables, went back over the bookcase and started pulling out kitchen cabinets and drawers. Whoever lived in the house had either left in a hurry or hadn’t been there in a while. Almost everything was cleaned out of the kitchen.
Almost being the operative word.
“James!”
“Suzy!”
Suzy jumped and turned as they spoke at the same time. James walked into the living room, holding a cloth in his hand.
“I would say ‘jinx,’ but I don’t think it works like that,” he said. The joke didn’t hold any humor. James’s expression was blank. “I found this in the dresser. It was hung up between the drawers.”
He held the cloth up. Only it wasn’t just a cloth.
It was a small onesie. One with a rubber ducky sewn in the middle.
Suzy’s heart began to race. She stepped to the side to show what she’d found.
“It was at the back of the cabinet. I almost didn’t see it.”
James’s eyes widened. He picked up the can. His expression gave nothing away. “‘Formula,’” he read.
“Baby formula,” she said, wanting to be crystal clear in what they were seeing.
“Baby formula,” he repeated. She watched as he looked between the canister and the rubber-ducky onesie. They clearly didn’t have answers, but she did have a few guesses.
“If this house isn’t a secret, then maybe whoever was here is.” She took the onesie from his hand. His gaze followed it. “And I’m assuming Gardner never mentioned a baby to you.”
James shook his head. “No, he didn’t.”
“So, maybe he was hiding someone here? Someone with a baby? Or—”
“Or the baby is his,” James interrupted. And his blank expression gained some emotion. Anger. Concern. Something else.
Something Suzy found she wanted to combat or soothe. She wasn’t sure which. He was James Callahan, after all. A man she’d spent the last four months distrusting with a vengeance.
“I was going to say or this has nothing to do with Gardner, and whoever your source was wanted you here. Where there just so happened to be a baby at one point in time.” She motioned to the rest of the drawers and cabinets, all open and mostly empty. “We still have no evidence that Gardner is even linked to this place. Other than, like you said, the owner seems to love isolation and Shakespeare. But I can’t imagine he’s the only person in the world to like both. That could be nothing more than a coincidence.”
James opened his mouth, but whatever he was originally going to say died on his tongue. In a move that was so quick Suzy reached for her gun, James spun on his heel and hurried to the bookcase. He grabbed a book and opened it, determined. He shook his head.
“This may or may not have been his place, but Gardner definitely was here at one point.” He held the book up, cover open. From her spot, Suzy could see handwriting against the first page. “He didn’t like Shakespeare, but our mother did.” He tapped the signature. “She always signed the inside of her books.” He smiled. “I thought Dad gave them all away when she passed.”
Suzy looked down at the onesie in her hand. The rubber ducky was wearing a blue ribbon around its neck.
A not-so-great feeling started to mix with the adrenaline in her stomach. Confusion was never fun, especially when it came with urgency.
“So, if Gardner stayed here with a baby—”
The window next to the front door exploded in a spray of glass. Suzy flung herself to the floor as another window burst out of its frame. She didn’t have to be on her feet to know what was happening.
Whatever Gardner Todd’s secret was, it looked like whoever was outside was also looking for it.
And they’d brought guns.
* * *
THE FIRST SHOT pushed him to the floor. The second had him wishing he’d brought his gun in from the truck. The third, fourth, fifth and—hell, he’d lost count—the rest of the bullets that were plugging into the house had James low and crawling to the kitchen, hoping he and the chief deputy weren’t about to have a repeat of what happened at the warehouse.
Suzy was on the floor but, thankfully, not on her back this time. He gave her a once-over the best he could, given bullets were still flying. No blood or wounds that he could see. She lifted her head up enough to meet his eye as the cabinets above them splintered.
James didn’t waste any more time. He closed the distance between them and covered her with his body. She didn’t fight him. Which was good, because whoever was outside wasn’t done.
Once again James lost count in the barrage of bullets that continued to come. There was definitely more than one gunman. In fact, he guessed they were being shot at from both sides of the house, the way it was crumpling around them.
If they managed to not get shot, the house falling apart just might do them in.
James moved his head so his lips were right next to Suzy’s ear. “How much ammo do you have on you?”
“Not enough!” she yelled back. “Only the clip in my gun.”
James said a few choice words born of frustration. He just hoped their enemy’s show of force would empty their own reserves. Maybe they could get away with only one clip. It wasn’t like they had much choice. From what he’d already seen of the house, it was empty of anything worth fighting with. If the house was Gardner’s, and James realized he was already convinced it was, then at one point it had to have been well stocked with weapons. But now?
Now it was picked clean.
James was still trying to come up with a better plan than trying to take on what sounded like an army with only one clip when the gunfire finally stopped. The house continued to groan in the aftermath. Half of a cabinet door broke free and bounced off his back. There was no time to survey the damage.
“You okay?” James asked, voice low.
“I will be when we get out of here,” she replied hurriedly. James liked the fire in her voice.
He moved into a half crouch, careful to keep out of the view of the windows. Suzy followed until they were at the back door. Whatever slugs their mystery gunners had been slinging had trashed it and the windows. The walls were mostly intact.
And probably the only reason they were still alive.
James moved to the other side of the door as Suzy took up a spot next to it. He had a moment of déjà vu. He held up his finger to keep her quiet and peered out of one of the bullet holes.
Less than a second later, he was certain that one clip was not enough.
He reached out and took Suzy’s wrist.
“We need to hide,” he said urgently. “Now.”
Chapter Five (#u74f89d21-a7a7-576e-bf3d-447dc5830b05)
The world around them was moving so fast, but James couldn’t help feeling as if they were moving as slow as dirt. It didn’t help that not one or two but at least six men were closing in on the house from the backyard alone. It also didn’t help that the only hiding place he could think of was hard as the dickens to get to. At least, when that hiding place was the attic and you were hopped up on adrenaline and trying to get a beautiful woman in a slinky dress up into that attic.
With no ladder.
As soon as he pulled the string down and the door opened, James had Suzy by the waist and was shimmying her upward. Under different circumstances, he might have taken a beat to appreciate the way her body felt beneath his hands. Just like Suzy might have, under different circumstances, had some words to say when his hands cupped her backside with vigor, pushing her up until she could pull herself the rest of the way. As it was, they both kept their mouths clamped shut.
The moment Suzy cleared the opening, she spun around and held out her hand. James was already one step ahead of her. He jumped, thanked his lucky stars that he was a tall man and managed to grab the lip of the opening. Before he could start pulling himself up, a sound he’d been hoping not to hear until he was hidden exploded through the house.
Someone had kicked the front door off its hinges.
James pulled all the way up, once again was thankful that one thing he’d kept from his Air Force days was his workout routine. Suzy grabbed his back and then his belt. Then it was his backside she was cupping.
Another bang sounded as what was left of the back door was opened with force.
James grabbed on to the closest beam and pulled with all of his might. The moment his feet cleared the opening, Suzy reached through the space and grabbed for the string attached to the door. James twisted around and put his arms around her waist in time to keep her from falling out. After two swipes she got it, and together they closed it as quickly and quietly as they could.
With absolutely no time to spare.
No sooner was the door in place than a series of voices could be heard in the room beneath them. James and Suzy didn’t dare move. He didn’t even release his hold around her middle, and she didn’t complain.
“Check the closet and bathroom,” one man barked.
“If they’re in here, we got them already,” said another. His drawl was pure syrup. “Nobody can take that much lead.”
“They can if you’re crap with your aim,” said another man. The voice was a higher pitch than the other two. Younger. “You should have let me do the shooting, and not Ryan and skunk for brains here.”
“I was fifty-fifty on killing him or keeping him alive,” the first man said. “Either outcome I can work with.”
“No one’s in here,” the person with the Southern drawl called from the bathroom. “The house is empty.”
“So, whose truck is that, and where are they?” It was the third man who asked, and something in the back of James’s mind rattled around at his voice. It sounded familiar. If only he could see the three people beneath them.
“It could have been Sully’s boy who got free earlier,” the first said. “Came out here to warn Hank that we were coming and left on his bike. Might explain how they got away before we got here.”
James couldn’t help but tense up. He felt Suzy turn her head enough to look at him. A lot of good that did in the dark. While there might have been more than a few Hanks in Alabama, James knew of only one who would be tangled up with his brother. If Hank had been at the house, then there was no doubt Gardner had once been there, too.
“Well, what do we do now?” the drawler asked. “We got all the boys here and no one to question.”
The sigh was so loud, James heard it as though the man was in the attic with them.
“Looks like we’ll just have to hunt down Hank and make him tell us where he hid the boy before anyone else finds out Gardner Todd’s son is out there missing.”
If James tensed at the mention of Hank’s name, he turned into a statue at this new information.
Gardner had a son?
He had a nephew?
Suddenly everything fell into place. The urgency to meet in person. The secret he’d been trying to tell James.
Gardner had a son.
A son who was in trouble now.
Rage, pure as pollen in the spring, filled James so quickly that he had half a mind to open the attic door and bring down a heap of pain on the men in the bedroom. Had they been the ones who had ordered Lester to kill his brother? Why were they after the boy? What were they planning on doing with him after they found him?
Every question pushed adrenaline into James’s muscles.
In the darkness of the attic, all he saw was red.
And then that red cooled.
Suzy moved her hand onto the arm he had around her stomach. Her fingers delicately wrapped his forearm. Then, in the smallest of movements, she brushed her thumb across his skin.
The rage in him quieted, and sense returned to him.
Jumping out and taking on the unknown number of armed men would only get him killed, and her, too. And then his nephew would still be in danger.
James squeezed her side to let her know he’d gotten the message.
“Go get Zach and the boys, and tell them to go ahead and hit the road,” the first man said. He must have been the one in charge at the moment. James committed his voice to memory. “Keep your phones on,” he called as one of the men’s footsteps went back into the living room.
“What do you want me to do?” the third man asked. Not the guy with the Southern accent. Again, James felt like he could almost place the man’s voice. “I mean, do we even know where Hank is?”
“No, but Sully does.”
“I thought he was gone. In the wind.”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t get him back. The sorry SOB has a lot of problems, but his worst one is how he feels about his people. We find that boy he took a bullet for, and I bet we could smoke him out.”
“If Sully hasn’t already bought a one-way ticket to the great fire pit in the ground.”
The first man laughed. It sounded like nails against a chalkboard.
“He may be soft, but Sully isn’t about to let a bullet do him in.”
Car doors shut in the distance. An engine turned over.
“And what if he doesn’t know where Hank is? Heck, what if Hank is already on his way out of the state with the boy?”
Zach, the boys and the man with the Southern twang must have been leaving. James tried to split his attention, to see if he could hear if one or two vehicles were driving off, but he very much wanted the same answers as the unknown third man did.
“You may not have been in for long enough to know about Hank, but I used to run with him a few years back. He’s not a stationary man, and definitely not a fan of the state. He came back for a reason. He won’t leave until he’s done whatever he needed to, and my guess is it wasn’t being the father to Gardner Todd’s kid. Now, let’s start with his old woman in—”
Music—the chorus of the song “It’s Raining Men,” to be precise, courtesy of James’s sister and how hilarious she thought it was to try to embarrass him when she called—filled the attic around them. He and Suzy both reached for his coat pocket and his phone, lit up and blaring.
“What the—”
James wrapped his hand around the phone and pulled Suzy up and farther into the darkness, just as a shot sounded up through the attic door.
“We need light!” she yelled. No point in trying to pretend no one was home when The Weather Girls were belting out one of their most famous hits.
James held up the phone, giving them some light. Another bullet embedded itself in the roof above them. As soon as Suzy could see, she was playing hopscotch across the ceiling beams. The last thing they needed was to fall into the bedroom.
“Whoever you are, you’re screwed!” yelled one of the men. James didn’t have the time to figure out which one it was. He canceled Chelsea’s call and used the phone as a flashlight.
The attic ran the length of the house and was by no means spacious. They hunched and clung to roof beams as they hurried to get out from above where the men were.
Not that that would make much difference when they decided to walk into the living room and unload a few more rounds into the ceiling.
“How close is the truck to the house?” Suzy asked James. A ripping sound pulled his attention to her dress just in time to watch the tear that was already there split all the way up to her hip. Lord have mercy—if they weren’t running for their lives, James would have had to really think on the lacy number she was wearing beneath it.
“How close is the—” he repeated.
Suzy cut him off. “The vent!”
James followed her line of sight to the attic vent at the end of the house. With a jolt of excitement, he understood.
“Close enough,” he said.
Another two bullets shot up behind him, too close for comfort. Suzy must have sensed it. The moment she got to another beam, she turned toward him, brandishing her gun.
“Move!” she yelled.
James didn’t have to be told twice. He hurried around her and kept going toward the vent while she did some shooting of her own. He counted four shots by the time he made it to the beam closest to the vent.
Two bullets answered from the men below. James turned, worried she’d been hit.
“Hurry!” she shouted at him.
Holding two roof beams to steady himself the best he could in the small space, James pulled back his leg and then kicked out at the attic vent with all he had. The planks of wood splintered beneath the force. Suzy sent another few rounds beneath them while he kicked out again. Before he could clear the last two planks, he could already see the truck beneath them.
“This is going to hurt,” he called over his shoulder. He moved his phone to allow more light to help her get the rest of the way to him.
“Not as much as getting shot,” she bit back. “Trust me.”
He wasn’t about to argue.
He broke the last board, until all that was left was a hole they’d have to squeeze through. But, like Suzy said, it was better than the alternative.
“As soon as you hit the truck bed, I’m gunning it. So make sure you buy us some time with those bullets,” he said.
“Yes, sir.” Suzy nodded, turned and unloaded her clip into the floor.
As soon as the last bullet left her barrel, James moved through the hole that used to be the attic vent, grabbed on to its sides, said a quick prayer and pushed off.
* * *
WHEN SUZY WAS FIFTEEN, she had dared Billy to jump off the Wendigo Bridge on their way home from school. It wasn’t that high above the water, but tall enough that Billy wasn’t having any of it. By the time she’d decided to stop ragging him about it, Tommy Wexler and his cute older brother had shown up. The way Suzy had seen it then, she’d had no choice at that point. She had to jump.
She still remembered how her stomach had turned to nothing but butterflies as she stood on the old railing and looked down at the water. Billy had still been spouting concern, but promised he’d try to fetch her if she started drowning. The Wexler boys weren’t as concerned, but said a few things that made her believe they’d be impressed if she did, indeed, go through with it. So she’d taken that first step without hesitation.
What Suzy never told Tommy Wexler—or Billy, for that matter—was that she’d seen her friend Melanie do the same thing the previous summer on a dare. It was a scary drop, but as long as she tucked her legs in and held her nose, she’d be fine. But Melanie had told Suzy that the real secret was in knowing you’d be fine before you ever did it. Confidence was key, she’d said.
Now, no longer a teen trying to impress a boy, Suzy realized that the key had never been confidence. It had been youthful stupidity.
And, boy, did she feel stupid jumping off a house in an attempt to hit the back of a truck with a nine-or ten-foot drop in between the two.
She felt a slight fizzle of confidence spring up when James hit his target and none of his bones snapped in half. At least, none that she heard.
James landed in the truck bed on his feet, and a second later he was out and over the side. The moment he flung open the driver’s-side door, Suzy held her breath and followed.
If she hadn’t abandoned her high heels in the attic, she was certain her ankles would have twisted something awful. As it was, when her feet connected with the metal, a jarring jolt of pain radiated up through her. However, nothing felt terribly wrong. Though she was sure she’d be feeling it the next morning.
That was, if they made it to the next morning.
It wasn’t like two full-grown adults landing in the back of a pickup were exactly quiet. If the gunmen hadn’t already left wherever they’d been seeking cover when she’d shot at them, they’d leave soon to find them.
On cue, a man yelled from inside of the house. “They’re outside!”
Suzy was whirling around, trying to get James’s status on driving them away, when the engine roared to life. She barely had time to drop into a crouch and grab the side of the truck bed before the tires were kicking up dirt and rock.
The window between the cab and the back slid open just as two men ran out into the night.
“Hang on there!” James yelled through the window. The truck accelerating threw Suzy even more off balance. She slid down. More ripping sounds let her know Mara’s dress was tearing again. It sure wasn’t made for the field.
A familiar bang cut through the night. One of the men stood defiantly in the backyard with his gun out, but his face, as well as his aim, was becoming obscured by the distance and night. It was easy to hit a house. Not so much a moving target.
Which told Suzy these men might be familiar with guns, but they weren’t pros.
“You okay?” James called. He didn’t let up on the gas pedal as he took a left, putting them back on the road. Suzy was flung to the side.
“If they don’t kill me, your driving might!”
Through the chaos that had turned into Suzy’s evening, she heard James Callahan howl in laughter. Despite everything, it made her smile.
But it didn’t last long. A pair of headlights raced onto the road behind them.
“They’re following us!” she yelled.
“Might be time to get in here, then!”
Suzy eyed the window opening and did some quick math. She was a slim woman, thanks to the job and the need to stay in shape that came with it, but her part-Hispanic heritage had graced her with hips on the wide size, just like her mother. The pickup wasn’t old, but it wasn’t brand-spanking-new, either. Its window wasn’t made for a grown woman to slide through and into the cab. Actually, it was a surprise the millionaire was driving this dinky truck rather than some sports car or hopped-up truck with a lift kit.
“I don’t think I can fit,” she said. “The window is too small.”
James didn’t turn his attention away from the windshield. The headlights were bouncing in front of them as the tires ran across the same holes that had prompted James to hold her down earlier.
“Simmons, you just jumped out of an attic vent and into a truck. You can manage this window!”
Suzy glanced over her shoulder at the approaching vehicle. It was too close. If she got stuck, then she’d be one easy target.
“There’s no time!”
She pulled out her phone. She should have called the department when they were in the attic, but she hadn’t wanted to give their hiding spot away.
“Here!”
Suzy turned in time to see James passing her a present.
It was a gun.
A loaded gun.
“You know the saying ‘it’s like shooting fish in a barrel’?” he asked.
“Yeah?”
James turned to give her a quick look. He was smirking.
And, boy, she couldn’t stop the thought that it made him look delicious from crossing her mind.
“You’re the fish in this scenario,” he said. “So make sure you don’t let them get near the barrel!”
Chapter Six (#u74f89d21-a7a7-576e-bf3d-447dc5830b05)
By the time the truck made it to the main road, Suzy had opened fire on their pursuers. She got in three shots before another was returned. It hit the top of the truck. An awful noise of metal against metal sounded above them.
“You okay?” he yelled, even though he knew she hadn’t been hit.
“Just peachy!”
Two more shots came at them. Both missed. James already had his foot to the floor. At this rate, they’d be inside the town limits within minutes.
Would the men keep coming at them until their ammo ran out? Or would they stick with them until they could get the upper hand another way?
James glanced in his rearview mirror just in time to see the driver of the car thrust his arm out of his window. The passenger joined in, hand and gun sticking out of his window, too.
“Get down,” James just managed to say seconds before both opened fire. One of the side windows was blown off as James ducked. The windshield followed quickly. A gust of night air pushed into the cab.
“Still with me?”
“They have more firepower! We need a better plan!” Suzy yelled back. This time there was no joke in her reply.
James cleared the glass off himself and squinted as the air made his eyes water. Suzy was right. At the rate they were going, getting into the town limits wasn’t going to do them a lick of good. Not unless they had backup waiting.
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