Queso sat on the couch by the window. His head was bent over an open book. Whatever it was, he was halfway through it. Another surprise.
“Want your mind to be blown by the best bacon and waffles you ever had?” James asked in greeting. The boy jumped and slammed his book shut. Then he went on the offensive.
“You shouldn’t just sneak up on people like that, Padre. Wear a bell or something.”
James shrugged. “It’s not considered sneaking if it’s your house. I think it’s just called walking then.”
Queso snorted. It lacked any real humor, though. “I don’t think I can consider this a house,” he sneered. “It’s got more rooms than a motel.”
James shrugged again. He knew he lived in what most considered a mansion, and that he was lucky for it, but he’d tried to keep everything inside its walls simple and modest. He had money, yes, but he never flaunted it or took it for granted. All he ever wanted to do with it was help people.
Queso threw the book on the cushion next to him and scooped up his phone. No one had called him since he’d shown up the night before. It was clear that that was eating at him. James guessed the rising anger coming off him wasn’t meant for him at all.
“And how can you joke around and just stuff your face when that kid is out there? Is it a rich thing to not care? Don’t you want to find him?”
James had expected the question. It didn’t lessen the sting.
“Running around like chickens with our heads cut off isn’t going to help anyone. Not the kid and not Sully, either.” Queso’s jaw tightened. “It would be different if there weren’t people out there looking, but for us, the best thing we can do right now is calm down, take a beat and be ready for anything. Sarcasm and a hunger strike aren’t going to get either one of us what we want.”
Queso didn’t look swayed by James’s points. His expression had frozen in a sneer.
“At the very least, come and thank Chelsea,” James added, when Queso didn’t appear to be getting up anytime soon. “She already made you a waffle.”
“She made me a waffle?” he repeated.
The sneer was replaced by interest, interest James realized he didn’t like. Before he could pepper in a small speech about what was appropriate in terms of interactions with his little sister, a sound he truly didn’t expect echoed through the house.
The doorbell.
He was so caught off guard by it that he froze to listen as the series of chimes played out a song.
“I’m guessing by your face that you didn’t invite anyone over for that famous bacon of yours?”
James didn’t answer. He pulled his phone out from his pocket. No missed calls or texts. The landline hadn’t rung, either. If anyone wanted to come over they were supposed to call. Not to mention, there was a deputy patrol at the entrance of the estate. They weren’t supposed to let anyone past until authorized by the sheriff or him.
“Stay here,” James ordered, not liking how his gut twisted.
Queso didn’t listen. He trailed behind James through the back hallway that led across the bottom floor and into the living room. A set of double glass doors separated it from the grand entryway.
“Queso, you need to hang back,” James said, pausing before he opened the doors. “I can’t keep you safe if everyone knows you’re here.”
“Who do you think’s at the door, Padre?” Queso asked with a smirk. “Bad guys don’t ring the doorbell.”
James rolled his eyes. “Just get out of sight for a second,” he said in a rush. “And keep quiet.”
The doorbell chimed again. Fortunately, Queso listened. When he was out of the living room, James swung the glass doors wide and walked into the entryway, body already tense. He didn’t know what he expected when he opened the door, but it surely wasn’t who he found himself staring at.
Tall, slim and wrapped in a white pantsuit, a woman James had never met before was smiling at him. Her lipstick was bloodred, complementing the dark auburn hair that fell to the tops of her shoulders, and she had a large, expensive-looking purse at her side. He placed her age at around his.
What he couldn’t place was one single reason why she would be standing on his doorstep.
“Mr. Callahan,” she greeted him. “I’m so sorry to intrude, but I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time?”
Chapter Fourteen
The popcorn had burned, but Justin hadn’t complained. He’d eaten almost all of it during the movie. Now the bowl was empty in his lap, a book open on top of it. Suzy had already gone over all his homework due Monday, while her mother had excused herself to take a bubble bath.
If routine held, she’d be out by the time Justin was winding down for bed. The three of them would talk until it was time for lights-out, and then Suzy’s mother would fix a glass of warm milk and question her daughter about work and potential suitors before recapping what had happened on the latest TV show or book she’d occupied herself with that day.
This was their normal. The way the Simmonses operated.
This was where Suzy was comfortable.
Or had been comfortable, at least.
Now?
Now she finally had someone to talk to her mother about when she brought up men. Not that she would. When it came to James Callahan, Suzy realized he was the embodiment of a wild card. And after he’d broken their kiss earlier, he’d all but shuffled her back into the deck.
Which was for the best.
She didn’t need to be giving in to any impulses, especially ones involving the millionaire.
Suzy sighed. She left her phone on the arm of her chair and stood. She was between phone calls with Billy and Matt and anyone else she could think of who might be able to help track Hank, Patricia or Gardner’s son. No luck. It was like everyone involved had vanished into thin air.
Her heart felt heavy for James.
Impulses aside, he was just a man scrambling to save his family, and that in itself pulled at her heartstrings.
One look at Justin with his hair tousled, dark cheeks lined with freckles and round, chocolate eyes focused on his book, and Suzy couldn’t imagine how desperate she would feel if she couldn’t find him.
Justin raised his head, feeling her “mom stare,” as he called it.
“Mom. You’re staring. Again.”
That annoyed tone that kids seemed to pull out of thin air laced his words. Suzy also couldn’t imagine Justin as a teen. She wondered how James had handled that phase with Chelsea.
There she was again. All thoughts seemed to lead back to the man now.
“I’m just wondering how you managed to do this.” She bent over to grab a few stray kernels that had found their way under the coffee table. “You know this stuff is supposed to go into your mouth, right?” she teased. “Maybe I should get one of those horse feeders and strap it around your head.”
“Then you have to get Mimi one,” he said matter-of-factly. “She dropped those!”
Suzy laughed, picturing her mother being just as messy, and put her hand out for the bowl. He gave it up but followed her into the kitchen.
“Mimi was worried about you today,” he said, still using what he clearly thought sounded like an adult tone. “She called Aunt Mara and talked for a while about it.”
Suzy felt a flutter of guilt, but she didn’t show it.
“And you know this because Mimi told you?” she ventured.
Justin looked sheepish. “I heard her.”
“You heard her as in you were eavesdropping, or you heard her as in you picked up the other phone and listened that way?” It was a trap. One that he’d been snared in before. Either way, he knew the outcome was trouble. Still, he surprised her by answering.
“I picked up the phone in the living room to listen,” he admitted. Then added in a rush, “But I thought it was you! And I didn’t
listen to a lot of it.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes a fraction. Honesty was the best policy, but she’d trimmed the truth when it came to explaining why she hadn’t come home the night before. Justin knew she was working and that she was with James—a man he’d met at the hospital and said he liked—but she’d told him that it was nothing for him to worry about.
He was only ten, after all.
“We’ve talked about this before,” she reminded him. “You don’t spy on people unless you’re getting paid to do it as part of a profession. And even that sounds a little uncool.”
He dropped his gaze, but Suzy knew it wasn’t just his curiosity that had prompted him to do something he knew would get him into trouble. He’d been worried, too. And he still was.
Suzy relaxed her posture and opened the pantry. There was only one thing to help ease his mind. Or, at least, distract it. Standing on her tiptoes, she reached to the middle of the top shelf.
“Next time—” She jumped up, trying to grab the box, but missed. “Next time you are worried—” She jumped up again. This time her fingers wrapped around the edge of the box she was aiming for. She pulled it out. Justin’s eyes were wide when she turned back to him, box fully in view. “—just talk to me or Mimi. You can even call Aunt Mara if you need to. Okay? No more of this sneaking around.”
He nodded, but his eyes stayed on the box. Like he was in a trance.
“Can I have one?” He clearly couldn’t hold himself back from asking.
This wasn’t exactly part of their routine, but she figured it might take his mind off everything. At least for a little bit.
“As long as we can eat them before your grandma comes out,” she said, dropping her voice to a whisper. Her grin was matched by her son’s.
Suzy opened the box of sugar-filled, prewrapped honey buns—their little secret treat that Cordelia Simmons had forbidden—and threw one to Justin. No sooner had he caught it, though, than the sound of shuffling slippers filtered from the hallway that led to the bedrooms.
“Hide them,” Justin whispered, panicked.
A giddy excitement filled Suzy’s stomach. She didn’t have time to throw the box back onto the top shelf of the pantry, so she threw it in the other direction. Justin laughed as it soared over his head and hit the top of the dining room table on the other side of the kitchen cabinet. There was no way her mother hadn’t heard that, but it was worth a guaranteed nagging in Suzy’s future to hear a carefree laugh from her baby boy.
“Act natural,” Suzy said hurriedly, whirling around to stand next to him. She threw her arm around his shoulders and pulled him to her side, knowing they looked anything but natural. Justin barely had enough time to thrust his honey bun behind his back before a purple robe and matching slippers came into view. Suzy prepared an excuse about it being the weekend, and sometimes that meant sugary sweets, when any and all responses died on her tongue.
Justin’s honey bun hit the floor. Suzy’s grip on his shoulder tightened.
A man walked in behind her mother.
There was a gun in his hand.
* * *
“I’M SORRY BUT have we met?”
It was a formality, and the only one James was going to extend to the stranger. The last two days had been filled with surprises. This woman might be another one he didn’t want to experience.
“We haven’t, I’m afraid, but I thought it was about time we did.”
She held out her hand. A pearl ring was on her index finger and matched her necklace and earrings. A gold Rolex hung on her wrist. Whoever she was, she didn’t mind flaunting her wealth. James knew for a fact, thanks to his friend Hale, that the high heels she wore cost more than most people made in three paychecks combined. Fashion aside, how she’d gotten past the deputy guarding the entrance was one of several questions that sprang to mind.
“My name is Katrina,” she introduced herself, giving his hand a firm shake. “I’m a friend of Hank’s.”
James didn’t have time to hide his surprise.
“Hank,” he repeated cautiously.
She nodded. Her smile hadn’t faltered since he’d opened the door.
The red flag that had begun to rise at the time of her arrival shot up.
“Well, to be honest, friend isn’t as accurate a description as I’d like. He’s more of a business associate. One I’m having a hard time finding at the moment. I was hoping you could help me.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know a Hank,” he lied, deciding to keep his cards close to his chest. “If it’s someone who works at one of the businesses I invest in or help run, then you’ll have to be more specific.” He put on his best grin. “I’m good with numbers, computers and making breakfast, but I’m afraid I’m bad with names and faces.”
Katrina’s smile didn’t even dim a fraction. She adjusted the bag on her shoulder. “Oh, how silly of me.” She laughed. It was soft but not sincere. “I suppose you being at his house earlier today might have been misleading. Perhaps, instead, you were trying to find someone else?”
James held his ground. Every muscle in his face was working overtime to not give away what he was thinking.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, deciding he wanted to see her work for the answer she wanted, hopefully revealing her hand in the process. How did she know he’d been at Hank’s? Had she been watching him? Why would she? Did she know for a fact he was lying? “Aside from a trip to the city to help close on a deal for work, I’ve been here all day,” he lied again.
Her smile grew wider. Instead of it adding more charm, it started to degrade her beauty. He’d hit a nerve.
“Mr. Callahan. James, if I may. I’m here to help.”
“I don’t understand what with. Even if I did know your Hank, it seems like you’re here because you need my help. Not the other way around.” He shrugged. “Which I also don’t know how to give.”
The briefest of muscle twitches ran along her jaw.
Something was wrong.
Katrina was wrong. His feeling only heightened when she responded.
“I would say I’d offer you compensation for your insight, but I guess it’s hard to tempt someone like yourself with something as trivial as money. So, why don’t I do this—” She looked down at her watch. James waited, alarm rising in his gut. “If you tell me what you know about Hank and where he is, then I won’t order my man in your house to gut your sister.”
Katrina raised her head and met his gaze. Her smile was back. It was genuine.
James didn’t have time to process what she’d said.
A scream tore through the house.
“Don’t worry,” Katrina added quickly. “That was just to prove to you that that man is really in the house. I call the shots. And before you go all hero on me, let me make something crystal clear.”
She took a step closer, straddling the door frame. One foot in and one foot out of his family’s home.
“The only way your sister’s insides remain inside is if I tell him not to touch her. You silence me, you kill her.”
James’s body vibrated with so many emotions, he couldn’t sort out even one.
Katrina leaned in, still smiling. “Now, Mr. Callahan, be a good boy and invite me inside. It’s been a long day already. I don’t have all night.”
* * *
RAGE AND FEAR coursed through Suzy, nearly blinding her. Luckily it didn’t take over completely. She was able to hold on to enough clarity to recognize the man.
“Hank?” The bar owner had changed clothes and was wearing a hat. It did little to cover the gash across his eyebrow or the bruising around his eye. “What the h—”
“Grayton McKenzie is on his way to grab you,” he interrupted. “You need to leave. Now.”
“What? How do you know?”
Suzy
loosened her grip on Justin. Her mother’s eyes were as wide as saucers. If the gun had been aimed at her, Suzy bet they would have fallen out of her face.
“Criminal grapevine,” he said in a rush. “I maybe have a five-minute start on him. If you want out, you gotta go.” As she had in the bar that morning, Suzy believed Hank’s sincerity. Still, when he reached into his pocket, she got a little antsy. He pulled out a piece of paper. “Here’s Patricia’s private number. She knows to expect your call. She has the boy, but will only give him to you or Callahan. If you don’t get him by tomorrow morning, she’s leaving town with him and never coming back. You got that?”
Suzy took the paper and nodded. “What about you? You’re not coming with us?”
Hank shook his head.
“I’m done being ambushed by that scrawny son of a—” He paused, looked at Justin and chose new words. “I’m tired of looking over my shoulder and seeing Grayton McKenzie. So I’m going to do something about that. Tonight. Now hurry!”
Hank moved past them to the front of the house to keep a lookout while Suzy grabbed her mother and son by the hand and ran for the bedroom closet. Opening her gun safe took less than ten seconds, but it felt like hours to her.
“Here, Mom, take this.” She handed over her personal handgun.
“Suzy—” Her mother started to object.
“Don’t you do that,” Suzy interrupted. “You were married to a cop. You can use a gun if you need to.”
Suzy didn’t wait for a response but led them through the house, grabbing her cell phone from the chair and the keys from the wall hooks in the entryway, and then all three were converging on the car.
Loving Baby Page 13
