by Regan Black
“You have a tracking app on his phone?”
The censure only sparked another flash of temper. “Pardon me,” she snapped. “How many busy and bright teenagers have you raised?”
“None,” he admitted. “Though I recall volunteering for the task plenty of times.”
She took a deep breath. “That was rude. Sorry,” she repeated, this time meaning it. “I’m just worried.”
“And mad.”
Was that anger in his voice, as well? “Yes, and mad,” she admitted.
“You think he skipped school and put himself on a train to Washington in order to find or meet me.”
“That’s as much logic as I can make of his actions,” she said. “He’s not skipping with any of his friends.”
“All right. If he’s in Philly now, it won’t be long before he reaches Union Station. I’ll get down there and find him.”
“Thank you.” Relief coursed through her at his confidence.
“I’ll have him call right away. I’ll bring him back home, and we can all have dinner as planned.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t come up with a reason why they shouldn’t go ahead with dinner. “You don’t have to do that.” Caleb had purchased a round-trip ticket.
“Would you rather come to DC and have dinner at my place?” he queried.
“No.” She heard the reply came out more like a question.
“Well, I’m not dumping him back on the train.”
“Matt, you really don’t have to—”
“Bethany, I was planning to drive up anyway. This is exactly what I want to do. Caleb and I will be there by seven.”
“Okay.” What option did she have? She couldn’t get to DC ahead of Caleb. Rushing after him, having this conversation on Matt’s turf, wasn’t her idea of a good time, either. “Let me know when he arrives, okay?”
“I promise.”
“One more thing.” She closed her eyes against a sudden rush of tears. “Let him know he’s grounded.”
Matt tried to disguise his bark of laughter as a cough. She wasn’t fooled. “That’s not funny.”
“It is,” he said. “My first parenting milestone is discipline.”
His humor in the situation lifted the burden, eased the sadness a little. “I wanted us to tell him together.”
“I know. I’ll do what I can to save the hard questions for you.”
“Again, not funny.” So why did she want to laugh? She plucked up a pen and started doodling on her pad of sticky notes.
“Any idea how he found me?” Matt asked. “Or why he came looking today of all days?”
“None. Hopefully he’ll confide in you.” It seemed an odd thing to sincerely wish for under the circumstances. Clearly they’d entered new and uncharted territory. “I’ll text you his cell number. Thanks for your help,” she said. “I know this is an inconvenience.”
“Don’t say that.”
His voice, low and kind, rumbled across her senses. She blamed the resulting shiver on stress. “I need to notify the school that we think we’ve found him. I don’t want them to worry any more than I have been.”
“All right.”
And yet, long minutes after the call ended, she still sat there, paralyzed by fear of how the evening would go and how her relationship with Caleb would change. She was his mother, not his friend, but they’d been an unbreakable team since day one. Honest with each other, candid and clear, she’d made every effort to give him a stable life, while assuring him that his father was a good man, doing good work in the Army.
On top of that nonnegotiable stability, she’d given Caleb roots and tradition with her side of the family, let him know he was loved and valued. She’d created opportunities to explore various interests, while fostering an appreciation for history that matched hers and Matt’s.
That had been her one calculated effort once she’d accepted that this day would come whether she wanted it to or not. Matt had respected every limit she’d set in her quest to raise Caleb alone. The two of them deserved to have some common ground from the first introduction.
Strange that until now, when she could only guess at Caleb’s reactions, her choices had never felt quite so selfish or self-serving. She’d been so confident that giving Matt room to have a Military career unencumbered by a whoops baby was the right thing for everyone.
Now she felt as if she’d done them all a grave disservice.
* * *
Matt gathered his thoughts before striding to the general’s office. He supposed this conversation would be good practice for telling his parents about Caleb. It was rather surreal that he’d be having that conversation tonight.
He knocked lightly on the open door. “Do you have a minute, sir?”
“Come in,” Knudson said. His normally jovial smile was slower to show up today. “Have you heard something from the police?”
“No, sir. This is a different matter. Personal.” He closed the door and came forward to stand next to the guest chairs.
“And serious,” Knudson observed. “Have a seat.”
“Thank you.” Better to just get it out there as efficiently as possible. “I have a son.” Wow. He was finally getting to share this with someone. A surge of pride shot through him as the general’s eyebrows lifted. “He’s fourteen, almost fifteen,” Matt added, thinking aloud. “His mother has been raising him alone. She insisted on complete privacy on the issue, although I’ve contributed financial child support since the start.”
“Well, that’s the responsible move, son.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I can assume there’s a legal arrangement?”
“Yes, sir,” Matt confirmed. “And it’s been noted properly all the way through my security clearance investigations.”
“All right.” Knudson bobbed his chin. “Why has it become an issue today?”
Matt kept his shoulders back when he wanted to slouch with relief. “It seems he’s learned about me. He didn’t find out from his mother.”
“The security breach?”
“Possibly, though I don’t see how a fourteen-year-old would have access to my personnel records, even if he knew to look for them. His mother just called to let me know he skipped school and appears to be on a train scheduled to arrive at Union Station in about forty minutes.”
The general gave a short bark of laughter. “Sounds like he’s a chip off the old block after all.”
“Possibly,” Matt allowed, trying not to smile. “I suppose my mother would know that answer.” Assuming his mother had known he had a son.
“Always admired your mother,” Knudson said. “Ben and Patricia are dear, dear friends.” He studied Matt long enough that it was a struggle not to fidget. “I take it I’m the first person you’ve told?”
“Yes, sir. Outside of the JAG office and the security clearance investigators,” Matt replied.
Knudson’s gaze grew serious. “If I could offer a piece of advice?”
“Please, sir.”
“You’ll want to soften up that delivery some and show more remorse about keeping the secret—whatever the reasons—when you tell your mom.”
“Thank you, sir.” Matt intended to do all of that and more.
He’d been trying to be as efficient as possible with Knudson, in the interest of time. He already had a shopping cart loaded with her favorite wine and chocolates waiting online. All he had to do was complete the purchase and request rush delivery. He’d also made a mental note to bring flowers with him whenever he saw her in person, for now until the end of time.
“Take the rest of the day off,” Knudson said. “But if you bring him for a tour, I’d like to meet him.”
Matt made appropriate assurances and escaped the office, arranging for a ride to Union Station. By the time he arrived, the train Caleb was likely on was o
nly a few minutes out. Matt breathed a sigh of relief. If he hadn’t been here in time, Bethany would have cause to skin them both.
It wasn’t easy trying to spot one teenage boy as passengers flooded from the trains and into the terminal. He’d only ever seen Caleb in school or soccer-team pictures. Bethany was commendably stingy about posting more candid photos of him online. Understandable, but it meant he had to look at how people moved in groups rather than for the individual face. Even at midday, the terminal was busy enough that he almost missed a young man of the right height and age passing by alone, his face down as he fiddled with his cell phone.
Matt fell in behind him and dialed Caleb’s number.
The kid who was a few paces in front of him stepped out of the flow of foot traffic and swiped the screen to answer. “Hello?”
Matt heard it through the phone a half second after he watched Caleb’s mouth form the word. “Hi, Caleb,” Matt answered. The kid looked so much like his mother, it was uncanny. He had her big brown eyes, under straight eyebrows. His dark blond hair, cut in a modern, subtle Mohawk, was streaked by the sun from his time on the soccer field. Matt had seen the resemblance in the pictures. In real life, the similarities were startling. What now?
Caleb’s gaze darted around the terminal before landing on Matt. The hand holding the phone seemed to melt as he stared.
Matt couldn’t move. His heart had lost its rhythm and his breath stalled. He’d felt stronger on his first jump from an airplane to graduate Airborne School. This was his son. His son. Those two words comprised the entire sum of his thoughts, and time seemed to slow to a crawl.
And he was a father, damn it. Gathering himself, he took a firm step forward, catching himself before he yanked Caleb into a bear hug. One more step and he closed the distance, sticking out his hand. “Matt Riley. Pleased to meet you.”
Eyes wide, the kid met his handshake, and words seemed to fail him.
Matt understood the magnitude of the moment and sympathized. He was still on the verge of losing it himself. “You are Caleb, right?” The boy nodded. “Good.” Matt tried to smile. “Your mom, Bethany Trent, called and told me you might be here.”
At the mention of his mom, Caleb blanched. “She already knows I’m here?”
Matt nodded. “She says you’ve dodged her calls and texts.”
“No.” He hunched his shoulders, as if he could slouch into the shelter of his backpack. “Technically my phone is supposed to be off during school hours.”
Technically. Matt remembered how poorly that excuse worked on his mother. “Do you know who I am?”
Caleb nodded, swallowing hard.
“Good. Call your mom. Let her know you’re safe.”
Matt waited, laying a hand on his son’s shoulder when he saw him sending a text. “Call. Use the speaker.”
“Yes, sir.” Caleb swiped to a different screen and held the phone so Matt could see the display, as well.
When Bethany answered, her relief was obvious but it didn’t take long for that relief to give way to blistering anger. “I’m glad you’re safe,” she said. “Matt and I have decided he will bring you home and we’ll discuss this together.”
“Mom, I just—”
“Tonight, Caleb.” She cut him off. “There will be consequences. Behave for Matt. I love you.”
“Yes, ma’am. Love you, too.” He pocketed the phone and stared up at Matt.
“I’m supposed to tell you you’re grounded.”
“A given,” Caleb said with a shrug. “I thought I’d have a few hours at least before she had a chance to say that. The truancy calls don’t go out until the evening.”
Matt didn’t know anything about truancy calls. His thoughts were tied up with the realization that it wouldn’t be too long before he was looking his son in the eye. He’d missed out, been held back, from so much.
“So,” he began, worried about making the wrong move here. “This wasn’t a school-sanctioned field trip. Did you have a plan?”
Caleb’s narrow shoulders slumped. “Sort of.”
“You were going to navigate Washington, DC, on your own?”
“To find you and meet you? Yeah.” He bumped one heel against the toe of his other foot. “I really thought we’d have some time to talk before she realized I wasn’t where I was supposed to be.”
What had motivated him to take this kind of chance now? “How did you even know to come looking for me?” Matt asked.
Caleb turned away, hefted his backpack. “Mom told me you—”
“Try again.”
Caleb’s head snapped up. “What?”
His mother would have corrected him, but Matt wasn’t going to mark this first hour of parenting with discipline and lessons in manners. “I know your mom’s never told you my name.” Matt watched a glint of battle fire in Caleb’s eyes and braced for an argument, but he subsided with another shrug. “She invited me to dinner tonight so we could tell you together.”
“I knew it,” he muttered. “Greek chicken is always for company.”
Matt wasn’t sure he followed that topic change, chalked it up to the communication deficit. It had been a long time since he’d dealt with kids this age.
“Come on, let’s walk.” He resisted the urge to put his arm around the kid’s shoulders.
“Do you really work in the Pentagon?” Caleb asked. “Can I have a tour?”
“Not today.” Inexplicably uneasy, Matt glanced around. “Where did you get your information?”
“I got a snap with your name and rank. A picture,” he added.
Matt knew which cell phone app Caleb was referring to. Typically the messages disappeared within a few seconds of being opened by the recipient.
“And you thought I sent it?”
“No,” Caleb said.
“The sender have a user name?” Matt asked when Caleb didn’t volunteer more information.
“Does it matter?” He hefted the backpack again. “He double-checked who I was and then more stuff came through. Stuff about you. The information was real, obviously.”
“Obviously.” Matt didn’t like the way this was shaping up. “When did you get the messages?”
He cocked his head, thinking. “The first one was about two weeks ago.”
That would fit the likely timeline as the compromised information was being sold off. “There were more?” At the boy’s nod, Matt asked, “Did you save the messages?”
Caleb’s lip curled. “Like I wanna pay for a free app? I made notes, though.”
“Good.” An itch had cropped up between his shoulder blades. Instinct drove him to get away from the terminal and into a safe space that was out of the public eye, as fast as possible. Rather than pick up the Metro here and head straight for the Pentagon or his condo, he decided to be less predictable. “Where did you keep those notes?”
“The hard copies are at home. I have a file on the cloud, too.”
“All right.” That would give investigators something to work with. As soon as he decided which law enforcement agency might consider a few random snaps as a crime.
“The snaps were clues sort of,” Caleb was saying. “Like I’d get a name or place, maybe a picture. Then I would start digging around online. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Except skip school, take a train alone to a city you don’t know and lie to your mom about it.”
“She’s lied to me, too,” Caleb shot back, his gaze full of hurt. “All. My. Life.”
“Well, life’s about to change,” Matt said, wincing. That didn’t take long. A dad for ten minutes and he was already quoting his father’s wisdom. He kept Caleb close as they moved along the sidewalk, sidestepping tourists. “And three lives are permanently changed now.”
“You’re mad at me.”
Matt had to slow down as Caleb began dragging his feet
. They weren’t safe yet, though Matt couldn’t point to any specific reason why he felt they were at risk. “I’m not mad at you.” He was aggravated with whoever compelled his son to take these risks. And he wasn’t exactly thrilled with Bethany for keeping him out of Caleb’s life this long.
He gripped Caleb’s shoulders lightly, waiting for him to meet his gaze. “You were resourceful and smart right up until you skipped school and made your mom worry. Moms don’t like that kind of thing.”
“You worried your mom?”
“More than once,” Matt confessed. “You think I was hatched in this uniform?” Caleb snickered. “That’s how I know.” Bethany and Patricia had similar standards about child-rearing. No wonder he loved her still.
Whoa. Love? That had to be some transference effect of being around Caleb. Regardless, he’d pick it apart later. Right now, they needed to keep moving. He was sure someone was watching them, although he couldn’t spot the tail.
If Caleb reached DC without any trouble, only to get hurt on Matt’s watch, on his first day of parenting, he’d never forgive himself. Nor would he ever be forgiven. He ducked into the next storefront, pleased to discover it was a deli. “Hungry?”
They moved to the counter and ordered a couple of sandwiches and soft drinks. It was early for the lunch rush, so they had their pick of the few tables. Matt guided Caleb to a two-top near the back wall and took the seat that gave him a view of the door and sidewalk out front.
While they waited for their food, Matt sent a text message to his office, offering to bring back lunch for everyone. It would give them a place away from prying eyes to regroup and make a plan.
“You look mad,” Caleb said.
“I’ve been told that. It’s my thinking face,” Matt explained. He wouldn’t lump fear or worry onto his son’s shoulders. “Your timing is crazy,” he said, trying to smile. “We really were going to tell you tonight. Your mom was convinced the acting out would start tomorrow.”
Caleb dragged the drink straw up and down through the hole in the lid, making an annoying noise. Matt didn’t react. His little brothers, twins, were five years younger. He could teach master classes on how to ignore annoying moments and get even later.
