Cold Fear

by Susan Sleeman

  Leah’s knees went weak, and she clutched the counter.

  Riley faced her. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, but she was far from all right. If not for Jill coming into the theater, would Leah now be laying in the morgue?

  6

  Riley searched Leah’s hotel room and bathroom and pronounced it safe for her to enter. She’d lost her color in the lobby and still hadn’t regained it. He’d asked about her quick mood swing, but she’d said she wanted to get to the room safely and then she’d tell him her concern.

  He closed the door, and she handed his jacket back to him. “What if the bullet was meant for me?”

  “What?” Riley tried not to stare at her, but he couldn’t help it with her outrageous statement.

  “Jill and I were similarly dressed. She wore my ring. Her hair, height, and build are near enough to mine that from the back the shooter could have believed it was me.”

  She could be right, and Riley didn’t much like it. So why didn’t he see that? Or Blake or Sam? The resemblance was close enough, that was for sure. But what about the tattoo?

  “You could be right.”

  “Really, you think so?”

  “Yeah, but only if Jill’s recent tattoo was unrelated to the murder. If the killer did the tattoo or had it done, he would know it wasn’t you.”

  Looking confused, she dropped onto the corner of the bed. “Do you really think the killer had something to do with the tattoo? Maybe, like you said before, that it’s some sort of message to me?”

  He nodded. “Either way, I’ll mention this theory to the team to get their opinion.”

  “Good,” she said, but didn’t look happy with the fact that he agreed with her.

  And why would she? He’d admitted that someone might have killed her if Jill hadn’t been there.

  If Leah was right, he could have lost her. Permanently. Right there, not far from him before he had a chance to talk to her again. He would’ve never seen her again. He couldn’t imagine that. Even when they’d been apart he always wondered if he would run into her again someday. But death was so final. So very final.

  His stomach knotted. He didn’t want her to see how much this affected him. He breathed in, held the breath, and released it slowly.

  “Why don’t you go ahead and freshen up,” he suggested, hoping he came off as lighthearted. “And I’ll be in the hallway making calls.”

  She nodded and got up. When she reached him, she grabbed his arm. “Do you think it’s a good possibility or far-fetched?”

  He considered not answering, but her wounded gaze was locked on him, and he couldn’t refuse. “Good possibility.”

  She gasped for air and dropped her hand to wrap her arms around herself while looking down at her feet.

  “Hey, hey.” He rested his hand on her shoulder. “I won’t let anyone harm you. You know that, right? I’d give my life before letting that happen.”

  “I know, it’s just…” She shrugged.

  “Just what?”

  She looked up, her eyes murky pools of anguish. “After a few betrayals, it’s hard for me to trust people right now.”

  He jerked his hand away, feeling burned like touching a hot stove. “You don’t trust me. That’s rich after the secret you kept for years.”

  She took a step back as if he’d physically struck her. He hadn’t, but he did hit her where it would hurt, and that wasn’t the kind of guy he wanted to be. Why did he always let her get to him like this? React—then think?

  “Sorry,” he said and meant it. “That was a low blow, but hearing you don’t trust me after everything? It was too much.”

  “I trust you. Totally. But…” She sighed. “After the recent betrayals in my life, my initial reaction is to be suspicious. I hate that, but when you’re a celebrity, people want to ride on your coattails. It’s hard to know people’s true motives. Yours are right, though. Just bear with me if I have knee-jerk reactions, okay? I trust you. Totally. Completely.”

  He believed her, but he probably shouldn’t. “I don’t know how you live like that. It must really hurt. Especially losing your money. I know how important that is to you.”

  “Don’t,” she snapped, and her eyes flashed wide open. “Don’t say it like that. Like money is a dirty word. I have to support myself and Owen. My mother, too. It’s not a crime to work. To take care of the people you love.”

  “I wasn’t aware I put any emphasis on the word.”

  She sighed. “Nothing has changed, has it? We’re older. Maybe wiser and experienced at life, but you still detest money, and I still need financial security.”

  “That about sums it up.” He’d hoped that she’d changed her opinion on money, but why should she? He didn’t. And honestly, he knew his feelings on the matter were skewed. But he’d seen how having a nearly unlimited supply corrupted. How it gave people ultimate power that should be reserved for God. How people made gods of themselves. He supposed there were exceptions, but he’d never met one.

  “And there’s no point in talking about it,” she added.

  He tipped his head at the door. “I’ll be in the hall.”

  He exited the room and tugged the door closed. He took a look down the hallway, both directions, and was pleased to see it empty. He couldn’t deal with trying to protect Leah from an immediate foe right now. Not with raw emotions.

  Why did it still hurt so much to see that she chose her career over him? She didn’t have the same money-grubbing personality as the people he’d grown up around, willing to do anything to get more and build their influence. Or did she? Had he been so blinded by love that he didn’t see it back then? Was his father right that he needed to be cautious around her?

  If so, he would find out. They would be spending a lot of time together until the stalker and killer were apprehended, and Riley knew she couldn’t keep up an act for that long, and he would see the real Leah.

  Because there was one thing he was an expert at—spotting a phony who cared only about growing their wealth. His family had taught him that skill.

  Riley stood at the door to Owen’s room and almost didn’t want Leah to open it. His future lay behind a closed door, and he was so concerned Owen wouldn’t like him that his palms were sweating.

  She swiped the key and pushed open the door. The joyful laughter of his son spilled into the hallway. Riley’s heart lurched with joy. Owen was here. Not just a picture. Riley really and truly had a son.

  Riley stepped into the room that matched Leah’s. Two beds with floral bedspreads, a long credenza, and a small round table with chairs. But in this room, one of the beds was covered with colorful Duplo building blocks, and a woman he had to assume was Leah’s mother, sat on the edge of the bed, the giggling child hidden behind her. She was thin with shoulder-length blond hair, and when she turned to look at them, Riley caught his first view of his son.

  He clutched red blocks in his chubby hands and pushed them together then added them to a tall tower.

  “Oh,” Leah’s mother said. “You brought…is this…”

  “Yes. Mom, meet Riley.”

  He heard Leah speaking, but his brain couldn’t process her words because at that very moment, his son turned to look at them. His eyes, the same soft blue as Riley’s, locked on him. Riley didn’t know what he expected, but the overwhelming, mind-crushing wave of pure love caught him off guard, and he had to sit down on a nearby chair.

  Owen quickly shifted his focus to Leah. His eyes lit with joy. “Mommy.”

  He scrambled off the bed and ran past Riley as fast as his short legs carried him to leap into Leah’s arms. She swung him around, and Riley memorized every inch of his son’s face and body.

  He wore a black-and-white striped shirt with blue jeans, and had a smudge on his cheek, dirt or crayon. His hair was blond and tousled with an adorable cowlick in the back. It was in the exact same place as the cowlick Riley worked to tame after every shower.

  Leah set him down and sat on the
bed. “I brought someone special to meet you.”

  Owen spun to look at him, curiosity burning in his eyes. “Who is he, Mommy?”

  Riley dragged his focus from Owen to Leah. She chewed on her lip for a moment. “Remember when I told you your daddy had to go away?”

  Owen nodded, his expression now serious.

  “Well, he’s back now. This is your daddy.”

  Owen’s cute mouth formed an O of surprise.

  Riley hoped he would come over to talk to him, but he scooted behind Leah.

  “You don’t have to be afraid of him,” Leah said. “He’s a wonderful man and a lot of fun. He wants to get to know you. Do you think you’d like that?”

  Owen gave a shy nod but grabbed Leah’s hand and held onto it.

  “Don’t worry. Grandma or I will be with you, too.” She turned and stroked her hand over his hair.

  Riley longed to be there next to them running his hand over his son’s head, too. Holding him. This little person who resembled Riley in so many ways his heart almost burst from the pure joy of it.

  He now understood why Leah didn’t tell him about Owen. She loved Owen with the same intensity, and she was being a fierce mother bear protecting him from Riley’s controlling, manipulative father. Riley still didn’t like what she did, but he could forgive her now. Totally and completely. How could he do anything else after experiencing this unexplainable love?

  But then fear filtered in. Fear that the boy wouldn’t like him. He had to find a way to get through to him and eliminate any concerns he might have. At six feet and around two hundred pounds, to a four-year-old used to mostly women in his life, Riley must seem like a monster.

  He knelt on the floor to make himself smaller. “Can I see what you’re building?”

  Owen nodded and scooted back on the bed, tugging Leah along with him. Riley got up and suddenly noticed Leah’s mother watching them. “Sorry I blew you off before, Mrs. Kent. This is all just so surreal.” He extended his hand.

  “It’s Vivian.” She shook his hand with a firm grip. “I’m very glad to meet you, and Owen will be, too, once he adjusts to the idea.”

  “I hope so.” Riley went to the far side of the bed. He gently sat to keep from jostling Owen.

  Owen looked up, his eyes narrowed. “I’m building a castle. This is the tower.”

  Riley nodded, keeping his expression serious to match Owen’s. “It’s a fine tower.”

  A half smile quirked his mouth, revealing a dimple in the exact spot as Leah’s. He’d always found hers adorable, but a dimple on his son’s innocent face? Beyond adorable—whatever that word might be. Something totally not in Riley’s vocabulary.

  “Want to help?” Owen asked.

  Riley nodded.

  “You can make another tower with the green blocks. Make sure it’s as good as mine.”

  Riley loved his son’s spirit, even though it bordered on bossy. He collected green Duplos and started stacking them. He felt Leah watching him but wasn’t about to look up to see what she was thinking. He simply wanted to enjoy his son. He took his time connecting blocks and waiting for Owen’s approval, which was generously given.

  “I have something special to share,” Leah announced.

  Owen and Riley both looked up.

  She smiled at Owen. “Your father invited all of us to stay at his cabin. You know, a place like the cabins you build with your Lincoln Logs. Would you like to do that?”

  Owen’s eyes got wide. “Can we?”

  “It’s a great place to visit, and you would have friends to play with,” Riley jumped in, hoping to up the enticement. “They have a fort, a swing set, and a puppy. His name is Barkley, though he’s more of a young dog now, I suppose. And it’s located on a big wooded property where we have campfires when the weather is nice, but it’s still close to the beach.”

  Owen got to his feet and jumped up and down. “Can we go now, Mommy? Can we?”

  She smiled at Owen, the happiness in her gaze one Riley remembered from the past, and he nearly gasped at the way it sliced into him. How he would like to have that look cast in his direction again.

  “As soon as you clean up,” she said. “And we get everything packed.”

  “Yay.” Owen clapped his hands then launched himself at Riley.

  He caught his son in his arms and had no time to think about how it felt to hold him before Owen backed away and rested his hand on Riley’s shoulder for balance. His eyes narrowed. “Are you going to go away again?”

  Riley wasn’t prepared for the heart-rending question, so he opted for the truth. “Sometimes. Just for a few days at a time. I have to do that for my work, but otherwise? No. I’m never going away from you again, Son. That’s a promise.”

  7

  The compound’s big metal gate clanked closed behind them on a fenced property deep in the woods near Lost Creek. Leah had never been much of an outdoorsy person, but Riley was, and she’d gone camping with him in the past. She didn’t hate it, but she would much rather be in a house with a bed and bathroom close by. Still, back then she’d do almost anything to make Riley happy.

  When had that changed? Was it the day they’d broken up, or had it been building up to her leaving? She never really considered that, but maybe it would be worth giving it some thought.

  Not now, though. Not when she was entering Riley’s world.

  He glanced in the rearview mirror, a hint of a smile on his face. Her mother and Owen sat quietly watching out the windows for the entire drive which was so unlike Owen. Riley had been checking the mirror for the entire trip—first for a stalker as they left the hotel, and he might be doing so now, too, but his gaze kept lingering on Owen.

  It was clear that he was truly enamored with his son, and it made her happy to see his love. But it worried her, too, as she didn’t know what he planned to do about wanting to see Owen on a regular basis.

  The tires crunched over gravel, drawing her attention. They wound down a hill, and the wooded lot opened to a large clearing with a ranch-style house and large yard. Two bikes lay next to the door, one purple, one black.

  “This is Gage’s house.” Riley glanced at Leah. “I mentioned him, right? He owns Blackwell Tactical and is an all-around amazing guy. He’s married to Hannah, and they have two children. Mia and David.”

  Riley clearly respected Gage, so Leah instantly did, too. Riley was a great judge of character, and he always seemed able to identify a phony. She sure could use him in her world. Maybe then she wouldn’t have had the recent betrayals.

  Riley looked up in the mirror. “They’re the ones with the puppy, and you’ll like playing with them.”

  “Puppy!” Owen clapped.

  Riley grinned as he turned down a narrower road and soon they came upon cabins on both sides of the road, each of them unique in their design. Five in all, and at the far end, a sixth one was framed and under construction.

  “This is where we all live,” he said. “We each built our own places with help from the team. Sam’s is the one that’s not finished. She just joined the team, and we’re helping her finish it.”

  “Which one is yours? No wait.” She held up a hand. “Stop to let me take a good look and guess.”

  He braked, and she studied the buildings. She knew it wasn’t the one with a small porch holding two rockers and children’s toys laying out front. He wasn’t a sit-in-a-rocker kind of a guy. He was a doer. And he didn’t have children—at least none that she knew about. Except Owen, that was.

  Nor did the very contemporary structure fit him. The big picture window in the front was too exposed, and he liked his privacy. Plus that cabin and the one with the porch were made of logs, and he was a more linear thinker and liked straight, clean lines. Another one was so plain and simple, she didn’t see that as being his, either. He’d developed good taste and design sense in his upbringing.

  His had to be the A-frame, with a metal roof that continued down the sides. Sleek white wood lined the peak in front and
slatted boards with a natural finish were mounted vertically across the front. Natural-finish French doors served as the entrance, and steps ran the width of the building, adding to the stylishness.

  Private. Clean lines. Simple, yet architecturally interesting. Yeah, this place screamed Riley, and she could hardly wait to see the interior.

  “Well?” he asked. “Not as easy as you thought, huh?”

  “No, it’s very obvious,” she replied. “It can only be the A-frame on the left.”

  He cocked an eyebrow, and she chuckled. She loved feeling happy for a moment. Knowing her stalker couldn’t get to her here, she could relax for the first time in weeks.

  “How did you know?” he asked.

  “It’s you. Not fussy or intricate. Interesting without trying. And very few windows on the front keeps it private.”

  “Wow, that’s amazing. You’re right, but I would never have seen it. I just built what I liked.”

  “Go, Daddy,” Owen said. “Want to meet Barkley.”

  Riley whipped his head around, a shocked expression on his face. Owen calling Riley Daddy had shocked her, too, but what else would he call him? She’d told her son that Riley was his daddy.

  Riley reached back and patted Owen’s knee then turned around and pulled into the parking space near his cabin. He was out of the vehicle like a flash and opening Owen’s door.

  Leah leaned over the seat. “I need you to be on your best behavior, Son. Put your listening ears on and don’t wander off. Okay?”

  “K.”

  Leah’s mother undid his straps, and he bolted from his seat. “Want to see inside.”

  Riley held out his hand, and Owen took it, his earlier reticence long gone. She sighed.

  “That a good sigh or bad?” her mother asked.

  “I honestly don’t know,” Leah said as she gathered her things together.

  “They do look adorable together.”

  Leah watched them walking hand in hand to the door, their blond hair standing out in the shady woods. “They both toe in on the right foot. I never noticed that on Riley before.”