She and the detective set an appointment for nine the next morning and ended the call.
Tara sat in the rental car in silence, her gaze bouncing between the windshield, the rearview mirror, and the side mirrors. Was anyone watching her?
What if the earlier attacks had been Greg after all, and she was seeing danger where none existed? Even if the woman who ran into her had been present for Annette Collier’s death, that didn’t mean she was trying to kill Tara. The other lady could be a scared witness, or just a woman in a hurry who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Tara gripped the steering wheel and clenched her jaw.
There was one way to find out.
Just before eleven in the morning, Jeff’s dad stood at Evan’s bedside, looking down at the boy with a fond expression on his face. “I’m so glad you found him.” His face was lined, his jowls starting to sag, his thick brown hair turning gray.
When had his father gotten old? “Me too.”
“What a trial he’s been through,” the man Evan called Papa said.
Jeff could only nod. Despite the fact that his dad had never realized how much Ian tormented him, they had a good relationship overall. After a drunk driver stole Jeff’s mom from them six years ago, he’d tried to let go of the blame, to forgive his parents for their blind spot when it came to their older child.
In all fairness, Jeff hadn’t told them how badly Ian treated him. He’d hidden it. As a kid, he’d been afraid they wouldn’t believe him, or might stop loving him. As an adult, he figured there was no point.
He’d even started to let go of his hatred toward Ian. Clearly, his brother had needed the validation, the ego boost that picking on Jeff had given him. There was something sad about that.
Jeff might be able to move on, but that didn’t mean he would welcome Ian into his life anytime soon. Sadly, his brother hadn’t changed.
But Jeff wanted Evan to have a relationship with his grandfather, so he’d learned to release the bitterness and hold onto the good. Now he was grateful.
“How are you holding up?” his dad asked.
Jeff rubbed the back of his neck. Excellent question. “I’m fine.”
Dad circled to the foot of the bed to adjust the heavy covers. “You don’t look fine. A solid night’s sleep in a comfortable bed would do you a world of good.”
“I can’t leave—”
The older man cut him off with an impatient head shake. “Get a hotel room tonight. I’ll stay with Evan. You’ll feel better, and you’ll be able to show up better for your son if you get some rest.”
Propping his elbows on his knees, Jeff massaged his forehead. He knew his dad was right, but… “I promised I wouldn’t leave him.” And he could hardly bring himself to let the kid out of his sight, even to use the toilet.
“He’s hopped up on pain meds, son. He’ll never know you’re gone. And if he wakes up, he won’t be alone.”
“Bridget told him I didn’t want him.” Jeff’s voice came out strangled. “He thinks it was my choice that I didn’t visit after they moved.”
“Christ.” Dad gripped the foot of the bed until his knuckles turned white. “That woman was…a piece of work.”
Understatement of the century.
Jeff had been a fucking fool not to see the truth of Bridget sooner. But he couldn’t regret it because then he wouldn’t have this awesome kid.
He closed his eyes for a moment and considered his dad’s suggestion. If he found a real bed for the night, would Evan think he’d been abandoned?
“I probably wouldn’t leave either.” His dad sighed, moving to Evan’s side and adjusting the plastic bracelets on the boy’s wrist so they weren’t digging into his skin. One had his patient information, the other was left over from when they’d blood-typed him before his surgery.
They sat in silence for several minutes, both lost in their own thoughts.
“Hey,” Dad said, his thick brows scrunched up. “Don’t you have type A blood?”
“Yeah.” Jeff looked up and became fully aware of what the man had been doing. “Why?”
Dad frowned. “It says here that Evan is type B.”
“I know.” He should have realized his father would spot the discrepancy.
“But—”
“Dad,” Jeff stood and rested a hand on his father’s shoulder. Had he always towered over him like this? “I know.”
Surprise flickered over Dad’s features, and he stared back.
Finally, he gave a slow nod. “Okay.” He squeezed Jeff’s hand and nodded again. “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “I’m going to get some coffee. You want anything?”
To see Evan healthy, running around like a kid again. His life back. Tara. “Coffee would be great.”
How odd that his dad knew nothing of Tara. She was in Jeff’s thoughts nearly as much as Evan—she commanded all the interstitial moments—and yet nobody in the world knew there was anything between them. Maybe there was nothing to know. Hadn’t he told her as much?
But it felt like the changes she’d wrought within him should have left a visible mark. Like anyone who looked at him should know he’d been graced by her touch.
A few minutes later, his dad returned carrying two paper cups with plastic lids and corrugated sleeves. “Coffee, one sugar.”
“Thanks.” Jeff took the offered cup.
“What’s wrong?”
Jeff scoffed, his gaze jumping to Evan. “Besides the obvious?”
Dad didn’t take the bait, he merely raised an eyebrow.
With a sigh, Jeff leaned his elbows on the bedrails and tried to catalog every detail of his son’s face. Soon, he wouldn’t have any baby fat in his cheeks. In the fall, he’d be starting pre-K. Jeff had already missed too much.
“There’s a woman I work with at Steele.” He swallowed hard and gave his dad a broad, PG overview of what he and Tara had been through. “I used to think she was too perfect, too… I don’t know, untouchable, maybe. I couldn’t imagine myself with a high-heeled city girl like her. But she’s so much more. She’s…incredible.”
“You’re in love with her.” Dad smiled.
Jeff closed his eyes on a long sigh and remembered Tara covering herself after punching Mars in the throat, fighting off the goon in the parking garage, reading to the little girl on the side of the freeway, sharing Jeff’s happiness on the beach. Coming apart in his arms, her slick, naked skin warm and soft beneath his hands. Jesus. He nearly shook with the desire to touch her again. “Yeah. I think I am.”
“But?”
“Besides the fact that it’s too soon?”
Dad shook his head and sipped his coffee, his eyes lighting. “I knew I wanted to marry your mom before the end of our second date, and the feeling only grew the longer we were together. Sometimes you just know.”
“Really?” The official story was that Jeff’s parents had met at a mutual friend’s birthday party, talked all evening, and dated for the last two years of college. Then—boom—graduation, marriage, kids, life, death. He’d never heard the details of their early time together. Never thought to ask.
“Before we even kissed, but your mom…” Dad gave him a rueful smile. “She was either more cautious, or wasn’t so sure about me. I waited three months to hear her say ‘I love you,’ and a lot longer for her to even consider talk of marriage.” His eyes glistened, and Jeff’s jaw tightened painfully against unshed tears. “She was afraid to rush in, make a mistake, but I waited her out and made sure she never doubted my feelings. She was worth every minute of uncertainty.”
Jeff wanted what his parents had, but he wasn’t some young kid just starting out with no obligations, no worries.
“I can’t risk Evan getting hurt.” He met his dad’s gaze. “Never mind that Tara and I will be in separate cities once I move back to Boulder. If I give this a try and it doesn’t work out, I can deal with a broken heart”—maybe—“but him?” Jeff smoothed Evan’s hair. “He’s endured enough already
, don’t you think?”
Dad nodded and rolled his lips between his teeth. “Does she love you?”
Good question. “I don’t know.” Jeff barely managed to keep from rubbing his sternum. “Maybe.” Her gorgeous smile filled his mind’s eye. “I think she could if I gave her a chance.”
“And could she love Evan too?”
“She sent him Spider-Man socks.”
Dad nodded as if his response had actually made sense. “I know you want to protect Evan. You absolutely should. And there’s nothing wrong with being a single parent, but if you have a chance, I think you also owe it to him to experience what a loving family is like. How two people can interact with respect and love, not raised voices and violence. He’s never had that kind of family, and you both deserve it. Don’t you think he wants you to be happy too?”
Jeff tried to process the idea. Could he try it? If he made sure Evan knew he always came first, that Jeff loved him unconditionally, would his son welcome another person into their lives? Would he survive losing Tara if things went south?
“She’ll have to date both of you until Evan feels secure, but he wouldn’t want to be the reason you never had a serious, loving relationship with someone. If you give up that opportunity to focus all of your attention and energy on him, you’ll suffocate him. And he won’t appreciate it, I promise.” Dad rubbed the graying stubble on his chin. “Nothing is guaranteed. You probably know it better than I do. But losing your mom really brought home that lesson.”
Jeff had to look away from the tears in his old man’s eyes.
“It doesn’t seem like it now, but Evan won’t be at home forever. When he goes off to college or gets a job and moves out, what then? If your entire life revolves around him, you’ll have no life or relationships of your own in place when he’s gone. Like I said, there are no guarantees. But you have a chance to spend the next twelve years with both Evan and the woman you love. It’s not selfish to want to be happy, independently of your children, as long as you consider their welfare.”
Could he choose both Evan and Tara?
“If she’s good to Evan,” Dad continued, “he’ll be glad to have her in his life. If not immediately, eventually.”
Jeff gently stroked his son’s hair as his father’s words swirled in his head. Could Evan grow to love Tara as much as he did? Could she love the two of them?
Maybe. He could almost envision them as a family. Possibly even, someday, a growing family. Tara’s belly swollen with their child, dark eyes shining as she held Evan’s hand, the boy nearly as tall as her.
Stop it. Any thoughts of Tara, of the future, had to wait. He had to focus on Evan’s recovery, on doing whatever was necessary to help him heal.
“I’ll think about it.” Later. When Evan was better.
His phone vibrated in his pocket and he whipped it out, heart leaping at the sight of Tara’s name. Until he read the message.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
YOU MIGHT STILL be in danger. Please call me when you get a chance.
Jeff frowned at his phone. Then his heart thumped against his chest. Something must have happened. “I need to step out for a minute,” he told his dad. “Can you keep an eye on him?”
Evan was currently dozing. He’d been coming in and out of sleep all morning.
“Of course,” Dad said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Thanks.” It meant everything to Jeff that his father was here for them. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
On the main floor, he stepped out the side door of the hospital, breathing deeply. As soon as possible, he’d get his son outside, out of the stale, chemical environment. He knew well the healing power of fresh air and sunshine.
The day was cloudy, the cool wind cutting through his long-sleeved shirt. It was past time for a shower and a change of clothes. He should grab some from the camper while he was out here. Standing under a small grove of pine trees, Jeff dialed Tara’s number and steeled himself to hear her voice again.
“Hi, hang on,” she said, the sound of a car engine in the background. Her blinker ticked several times, followed shortly by silence. “Okay. I didn’t want to drive while having this conversation.”
“What’s going on?” Jeff asked, an amalgam of emotions—joy, irritation, frustration, and more he couldn’t even name—snaking through his system, along with the visions of her he’d been trying to suppress since he pushed her away last night.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but someone tried to break in to Mick and Jenna’s apartment last night, and I think it might be related to the previous attacks.”
“Are you kidding?” he asked, more in surprise than disbelief.
“Unfortunately, no.” She quickly relayed the incident.
Unsurprisingly, she’d handled it admirably. Not everyone could keep their head in that kind of situation. “But you couldn’t see his face?”
“No, but he wasn’t big like either of the guys who came after us before. I dismissed it as an attempted burglary after the police said there’d been a string of them in the area. Especially since Greg is in jail and I’m not part of his police case.”
“So, what changed your mind?” Shit. Was he putting Evan in danger by being here? “Do you think someone’s worried about these goons leading the police to him if they’re caught?”
“That could be it, but I have another theory. Remember when I fell on the ice on Monday?” She explained about the woman she’d seen and what had happened at the house, and suddenly her fear made perfect sense. She was not only a witness, but she might have the woman’s fingerprints. “Now I’m thinking maybe Greg was never the threat.”
“Fuck.” It could be a stretch, but added together with the break-in attempt, he had to agree. Either their attackers didn’t want any witnesses, or the danger was coming from somewhere that hadn’t been on their radar until now. Possibly both.
Jeff ran a hand through his hair and paced, his shoes crunching on the bed of pine needles. He knew what he had to do, but his heart slid to his toes at the idea. Blowing out a harsh breath, he said, “If you come here, I can—”
“No. I’m going home. I’ll talk to Kurt when I get there, let him know what’s going on, but I’m done hiding. I’m going to hand over what I have to Detective Niegard and see what happens.”
A vise clamped around his chest. Was she trying to end up dead? “Tara, these people are trying to kill you.” And maybe him too. “And you’re just going to put yourself out there as bait?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“Lots of them. Hundreds.”
She sighed. “Are they all just variations of me staying in hiding until the police can figure things out?”
Shit. He stared at the big, white hospital building, feeling jumpy. And pissed. If he was in danger too, he couldn’t stay here and put Evan or his father in the crosshairs. But he’d spent four months searching for his son. He finally had him back, and he couldn’t leave right when Evan needed him most. Right when the kid was most vulnerable and didn’t fully trust Jeff not to abandon him.
Fu-uck. He kicked the ground, launching a spray of pine needles, and barely resisted the urge to punch the tree.
Evan had to come first. In any contest between his son and any woman—even Tara—Evan would always win. But there had to be a way to protect Tara even if he couldn’t do it himself. Who could he call? Kurt was the only Steele operative who wasn’t out of the country right now, and he wasn’t exactly close at hand.
A startled exclamation came through the phone line, followed by the insistent beeping of a car door left open with the keys in the ignition, and several muffled thuds.
“Tara?”
Nothing but the beeping, then a loud slam. Jeff’s stomach turned hollow, his pulse skyrocketing.
“Tara!” He hunched over and tried to control his breath as he repeated her name into the phone.
The line beeped and went dead. No no no no no.
His brain raced. He ha
d to do something. Call someone. He started dialing 911.
“Don’t worry,” a deep voice said with menace, pine needles crunching somewhere behind him. “You’ll see her again.”
Jeff whirled to face the threat. The bruiser of a man who’d attacked him outside Tara’s condo was now leveling a shiny Glock at his chest. “What the fuck do you want?” Goddammit. He’d let his guard down for one minute…
“I’m going to take you to see your woman,” the gunman said with a vicious smile.
The other man was bigger and armed, while Jeff’s gun was stowed safely in the camper. But he’d taken the human tank down before. With all the adrenaline raging through his system, he could find a way—
“Don’t make me threaten your kid.”
Jeff went without a fight.
Tara had braced to fight, but the man holding a gun on her through the window said the magic words: “Hang up and get out of the car or I’ll go after the boy.”
He wore a bomber jacket, black ball cap, and large headphones around his neck. The same man who’d passed her and Adele outside the apartment building, and now stared impassively at her as he brandished duct tape and gestured for her arms.
So her instincts had been spot on. Fat lot of good they had done.
Not a soul passed them on the small side street that connected the apartment complex to the main road. Where were all the churchgoers on a Sunday morning? Heart staging a revolt in her chest, Tara held shaky hands in front of her. Hope leached from her body like a slow leak from a balloon as she watched him loop the tape tightly around her wrists.
She dutifully slid into the backseat of her rental car. Rather than kick him in the head while he taped her ankles—because Robbie was less than a quarter mile away—she memorized the plate number of the Yukon kissing her front bumper, more to keep her mind busy than for any good it would do her.
“What do you want from me?” she asked as Ball Cap activated the child safety lock, slammed the door shut, and strode to the driver’s side, where he did the same.
Blind Justice Page 18
