She loved Tupelo Hill, but getting away from her own home should be way easier with grown kids. However it seemed like someone was always parading through her house. As much as she loved her brood, there were times when it would be nice to have the privacy Eddy enjoyed.
He sat in the recliner on her left and propped his elbows on his knees, letting his steepled fingers support his chin. “McKay paid me a little visit last night after I left your place.”
His stealthy departure was something she’d planned to take him to task for this morning, but Joan found she didn’t have the gumption in light of this new information about Henry. She glanced around, now understanding Eddy’s unease. “He could have killed you.”
“Not yet. He wants something too much to do that.” His eyes closed, but not before Joan saw the pain in them. “He wants to meet Kris.”
“Oh, no.” She grabbed his hands, forcing him to open his eyes. “That will destroy her. She’s a happy young woman. Sometimes secrets protect people.” Wasn’t that why she and Eddy had kept so many over the years?
“No, sweetheart, secrets can only do that for so long. Eventually, they all get loose and when they do, they’re hostile and hungry.”
“Was that where you were headed this morning—to see Kris?”
“I have to talk with her first. I can’t just waltz in and say, ‘By the way, your real dad’s been in prison for twenty years. Hope you don’t mind that he dropped by.’”
“Of course you can’t.” She jumped to her feet and tugged him out the chair. “Let’s go.”
“While Henry is out there, I want you as far as possible from anything that has to do with the McKay family.”
Yeah, she wanted a lot of things, too—like a twenty-year-old’s firm behind—but that wasn’t going to happen either. “We either go together or you’ll find me at Kris’s by the time you arrive. Your choice.”
Her Eddy was no dummy. He glared and grumbled, but he also followed her outside and handed her in to the passenger side of his SUV. Without small talk, they drove to Kris’s house.
When they arrived, Kris opened the door, cleaning rag in hand and black-and-purple-streaked hair up in a ponytail. “Miss Joan. Eddy? What are the two of you . . . ”
“Doing here together?” Joan smiled at the petite young woman. “We are still married.”
“Of course. Did . . . did you want to come in?”
“If you don’t mind. What we need to talk about is better done inside.”
“Can I get you something to drink?”
By the way that Eddy was shifting from foot to foot, Joan knew he couldn’t handle social niceties right now. “No, but thank you. Eddy has something important he needs to talk with you about.”
Kris led them to a small living room and perched on a zebra-patterned chair while Joan and Eddy took the couch. Joan put her hand on his knee in a show of support, and Kris didn’t miss the gesture. “You both look so serious.”
“Kris, I don’t know any way to make this easy,” Eddy said, all business. “So I’m just going to come right out with it. Your father wants to meet you.”
Kris’s dark eyes brightened and she sat up straighter. “You found my biological dad? I’ve been looking for him now for a couple of years, but how did you—”
“I’ve known your dad for more than twenty years.”
Glancing between Eddy and Joan, Kris said, “I . . . I don’t understand. How could you know my dad when I’m adopted?”
Eddy scrubbed a hand across his forehead as if he wished he could erase all this from his brain. “Your dad’s name is Henry McKay. He’s Jack McKay’s brother.”
“Are you saying . . . ?”
“Kris, honey, the McKays aren’t just your adopted family,” Joan said to help soften Eddy’s blunt words. “They’re your real family. Jennifer is actually your aunt and Emmy is your cousin.”
“Kris, your dad is . . . ” Eddy paused, ran a hand over his face. “Well, he’s back in town and wants to meet you.”
Joan cut a look at her husband. That statement didn’t begin to illustrate the full picture here and wasn’t fair to Kris. This poor girl had been lied to enough. “I’m sure you’re wondering why he’s showing up after so many years.” Eddy put his hand over hers and gave it a warning squeeze, but she went on. “He’s been in prison.”
“What?”
Straightening her back for strength, Joan said, “And because we wouldn’t want you walking into anything without the entire story, you should know that he was convicted of murder. He’s the man who killed Jack McKay.”
Kris’s beautiful eyes went dull. “You’re telling me that my father, a man I’ve never known, killed Emmy’s dad. His own brother. What kind of man does that?” Before Eddy or Joan could answer, Kris blurted out another question. “Does Mom . . . I mean Jennifer know? Does Emmy?”
“Your aunt does,” Eddy told her. “Emmy doesn’t know the whole story. You two were so young and everyone thought it was for the best.”
“Everyone being you and Jennifer?” Kris jumped up from her chair and stared down at Eddy. “Is that why you would come around the house, drop off venison and sometimes money? To assuage your guilt for lying to me?”
“No. But since I was the one who sent your dad to prison, I felt the least I could do was make sure you had a good home where you never went without food or love.”
Kris dropped her gaze to where her thumb rubbed against the palm of her opposite hand. “All those times I confided in you. About wanting to find my biological father.” Her chest rose high on each sharp, hard breath. “You never said anything. Never even hinted that you knew him.”
“No.” Regret was clear on his face. “I’m sorry this is happening. No one ever expected Henry to be released from prison.”
She trained empty eyes on him. “What do you want from me now?”
“For you to meet Henry.”
“Let me get this straight. You want me to get face-to-face with a convicted murderer? After what he did to my family? I don’t think so. Not today. Not ever.”
“He’s your dad. He would never hurt you.”
“How can you be so sure? The man I’ve wished were my father for the past twenty years has just gutted me.”
7
One job.
That’s all Eddy had to do. But, as with anything else in life, shit sometimes happened. Like Kris refusing to meet her father. Eddy didn’t blame her. All these years and he’d just dropped this bomb on her. If he’d had the time, he’d have talked to Jennifer McKay, maybe had a sit-down with the whole family and broken it to the girl gently. Timing being what it was, well, shit happened.
Still running scenarios on how to keep McKay from going nuts when Kris didn’t show, Eddy made the turn into the park.
Years of DEA experience had taught him to never expect an outcome. Life was too random. Too subject to chance.
He reached the parking area and spotted McKay leaning against an old rusty Buick. He peered down at the ground, studying his shoes. A brown pair of slip-ons he’d paired with crisp jeans and a white snap-front shirt. McKay had gone shopping.
Shit.
A guy fresh out of prison didn’t have vast sums of money and this one had gone and blown some of it on new clothing for his first meeting with his estranged daughter.
“I’m so screwed,” Eddy said.
Wouldn’t be the first time. He pulled into an empty space two down from McKay. At noon on a weekday, the lot was more than half empty, but the sunshine brought out enough lunchtime folks to create a problem if McKay should lose his mind and start shooting. In the row across from him, an older woman messed with unfolding a stroller. Dammit. He’d have to stall. Let the woman get well out of range before McKay figured out Kris wouldn’t be joining their party.
McKay gave up on staring at his shoes. He met Eddy’s gaze, then cocked his head. Yeah, yeah, I’m alone.
“Here we go.”
Eddy shoved the car door open and pushed
himself out of the SUV. For a geezer, he’d stayed in good shape. What else did he have to do all day, but exercise and hike? Still, he was too old for this shit.
Way too old.
Across the row, the woman buckled a toddler into the stroller. Come on, granny, get your ass moving.
McKay glanced over Eddy’s shoulder at the empty passenger seat of the SUV. “Where is she, Eddy-boy?”
“She’ll be here. Running a little late is all.”
Getting out of this one would take the world’s biggest soft-shoe. All these years of doing what he’d thought was right, what would protect his wife and kids, and somehow, he winds up right where he started. Facing McKay and making promises.
The woman with the stroller hoofed it toward the walking path, but looked back, letting them know she’d seen them and whatever the hell they were up to.
Best thing for her would be to keep walking. She didn’t want any part of McKay and his whacked-out mind.
McKay tipped his baseball cap. “Afternoon, ma’am.”
The woman nodded and continued on. Eddy didn’t recognize her, but he’d been a damned recluse for twenty years. His ability to recognize the residents had gone out with the Clinton administration.
McKay waited for the woman to reach the trail, then faced Eddy again, the congenial look from seconds ago now replaced with hard cheeks and hateful eyes that could gut a man. Dead eyes.
He stepped closer, whipped his sidearm out and shoved it into Eddy’s stomach. “Take me to her. Now.”
“Ho, McKay.” Eddy held his hand out. “Take it easy. I told you, she’s running late. And what you don’t want is a scene. You want the sheriff to show up again?”
A loud honking sounded and Eddy—refusing to move too quick and wind up gut-shot—angled his head around. Tearing into the park was Joanie’s little Subaru, followed by Evie in her Med Mobile. How his baby drove that rig, he’d never figure out and the sight of it now, in the middle of this mess, sent shocks spiraling from his brain to his feet.
For the love of God, what the hell were they doing here when he’d given specific instructions to stay clear? Damned fools.
“Well, lookie here,” McKay said. “This might be easier than I thought.”
McKay moved beside him, shoving the weapon into Eddy’s ribs. “Get them over here.”
Fat chance. He’d spent twenty years as a hermit to protect his family. He wasn’t about to lure the love of his life and their baby girl into a death sentence.
“Not happening. You’ll have to shoot me before I do that.”
McKay let out a laugh, a huge, cackling one the wind carried across the parking lot.
Goddammit.
Then he went silent again, digging the gun barrel deeper into Eddy’s ribs. “Sure. I got nothing to lose. I’ll die in prison anyway. I’ll take out your little girl and your wife first. Let you feel what I feel, you no-good-son-of-a-bitch. You stole my daughter.”
“I didn’t steal her. I made sure she had a good home, with people who loved her.”
This idiot should be thanking him, not that Eddy would say that. Antagonizing a psycho never amounted to anything good.
Joan and Evie both burst from their vehicles. Evie, being younger and more nimble, sprinted by her mother, coming straight for Eddy and McKay.
“Daddy!”
“No! Evie, get back.”
The pressure on Eddy’s back eased. The gun. Gone. McKay shifted, his arm coming up between them, the gun pointed straight ahead.
At Evie.
Jesus. God, please no.
“Whoa, McKay,” Eddy said. “Don’t get riled up here. Let’s call Kris.” He angled his body, readying himself to put McKay down with whatever means necessary. First, he needed to get Evie out of the line of fire.
But McKay stepped to the right, keeping the weapon trained on Evie, his finger now hovering on the trigger and . . .
Eddy lunged. Slammed himself straight into McKay, the force knocking him sideways. He stumbled and his arms flailed, the gun waving. Eddy’s gaze shot to Evie, who’d skidded to a stop just as McKay regained his footing. With Evie yards away now, Eddy drew his own sidearm, pointing the weapon at McKay. McKay’s mouth eased into a crooked, satisfied smile.
“You should have brought her to me,” he said. “Drop that weapon. I’m gonna count to three, Steele. And then I’m putting a bullet in your beautiful daughter’s skull. One, two . . . ”
Eddie dropped the gun. That fast.
“Evie!” Joanie screamed, running at full steam. “Run!”
McKay continued to hold the gun on Evie. “Mrs. Steele,” he called. “If you don’t want me to shoot your pretty girl, you’ll stop right there.”
Joanie halted, her hands out in front of her and McKay waggled the gun at Eddy. “Step over there. By Evie.”
Gladly. As he walked, he’d try and talk McKay down. Save any number of innocents who might wander through here from getting caught in crossfire. “McKay, we’re in the middle of a public park. You got babies around here. Stay calm and we’ll work this out. I’ll call Kris and see what the holdup is. She’s just late. Joanie? Have you heard from Kris?”
He met her eye. Come on, Joanie, roll with me here.
“Of course,” Joanie said. “That’s why I’m here. She called me. Her tire was flat. She’s getting it changed and she’ll be here. She said she tried to call and you didn’t answer.”
Eddy moved slowly, keeping his eye on Evie, Joanie, and that damned gun. Two more steps. That’s all he needed and he’d be in front of Evie. “See, McKay? How crazy do you think I am? You know where my family lives. Why wouldn’t I get her here?”
McKay jerked the gun at Eddy. “You stole my daughter.” He pulled his gaze from Eddy and leveled it on Evie. “You know the saying about an eye for an eye?”
Forget talking him down. Years in jail hadn’t reformed McKay. He was still stone-cold nuts and with that gun pointed at Evie, there’d be no taking chances. Eddy took another step. Almost there.
McKay’s dead eyes turned wild and he poked the gun at Evie. “All I wanted was to meet her.”
McKay’s finger pulled back and—no. Boom! The gun went off. Eddy dove, rocketing straight into Evie, who absorbed the blow and held on as they tumbled over. Eddy put his hands out in a lame attempt to break the fall and not crush her, but she hit the ground, letting out an ooff as she took Eddy’s weight on impact.
“Evie,” Joanie screamed again.
“Are you hit?” Eddy whispered.
“I don’t think so. Oh, my God, Daddy. He’s crazy.”
Eddy moved fully on top of her, arms straight up, covering her body with his while the air went silent.
“You,” McKay said from somewhere off to the right.
On the move.
Eddy swung his head, found McKay waggling the gun at Joanie. “Let’s go,” he said. “In the RV. I need cover.”
“McKay, this is over! The cops are probably already on the way.”
Clearly, McKay didn’t like the sound of that. He turned back, raised the gun, and Eddy put his hands over Evie’s head. Boom. Another shot rang out, the bullet whizzing over them and hitting the grandma’s minivan.
“Evie!” Joanie screamed.
How McKay missed hitting two not-so-small prone bodies, Eddy couldn’t fathom. The man had been in prison for twenty years, but prior to that, he’d been more than comfortable with firearms.
He peered back over his shoulder, found McKay climbing into the RV with Joanie. Whatever his plan was, Joanie was part of it. Eddy leaped to his feet, took off at a dead run as the Med Mobile left the park.
8
A psychopath was riding shotgun beside her.
Joan wiped her sweaty palm down her thigh, leaving a wet smear on her pale yellow capris, before white-knuckling the Med Mobile’s steering wheel again. Had McKay hit Evie or Eddy?
After McKay had shoved her into the RV, he’d forced her into the driver’s seat with a command to drive. S
he’d tried to catch a glimpse of them through the sideview mirror, but the damn thing shook so much from the rumbling engine that she couldn’t verify anything.
“Quit driving like an old woman,” McKay demanded, keeping his pistol aimed on her, despite the twisty, rough ride. “You won’t like what happens if Eddy-boy catches up to us.”
“You didn’t give me a chance to adjust my seat. It’s a little hard to push the gas when I can barely reach it.”
“Then scoot up on your seat, woman.”
The switchback came upon them out of nowhere, forcing her into a hard, fast turn. Medical supplies shifted and clanked in the back, and the RV leaned so far to the left that she would’ve sworn the wheels lifted off the ground.
Once she came out of the bend, her fingers grappled at the side of her seat to find the power adjusters. “I have a name, man. Use it.”
Where she found the courage to talk back to McKay—drug lord, convict, murderer—she had no idea. But the overpowering fear searing through her veins might have had something to do with it.
She had experienced this same sense of out-of-her-control panic before. The first time was when Eddy had told her that in order to protect their young family he needed to leave, the next time was when her twins, Micki and Jonah, had gotten into a heap of trouble and, Micki, like her father, had chosen to distance herself from her family.
There had been other times—Reid leaving for active duty, Britt tussling with a trophy hunter. Most of her children had given her a heart attack at one time or another—and several of those events had occurred in the last couple of years.
For each and every one, she’d gone into offensive mode. When her loved ones were in danger, she worked to control the situation—or she’d turn into a blubbering fool.
“My navigation would improve—” Another switchback. “If you’d tell me—” Another violent shift. “Where we’re going.” Another near collision.
Sweat drizzled down her spine. A prayer whispered between her lips.
Enduring Love Page 4
