by Lisa Childs
Caroline stood at the living-room window, staring intently at him. He doubted she was reliving that kiss as he had and wishing they hadn’t been interrupted. He suspected instead that she was watching to make sure that he hadn’t already screwed up with Mark.
She was right to worry about his parenting skills. The only parenting he’d ever really known had been when Uncle Craig and Aunt Angela became his and his brothers’ and sister’s guardians. But that had been a long time ago.
Where he’d been the past several years had had nothing to do with family and everything to do with survival. His own and all those he’d been able to save. He had to go back to finish his assignment and make sure Michaels’s killers were brought to justice. But what kind of father could he be to Mark if he wasn’t even around?
Something struck the back of his head and exploded in shards of ice that ran down his neck and inside his collar. Thad whirled around so quickly that Mark shrieked and ran from him. He’d stayed alive for years in the most dangerous places in the world but had taken one in the head from his own kid.
He grabbed up a handful of snow and gave chase.
CAROLINE GIGGLED, echoing her son’s laughter that she could hear even through the double panes of glass. He’d nailed his father with that snowball. Thad threw a couple at him, careful to miss wide while stepping squarely in front of the ones that Mark threw back at him.
He had no hat, no gloves, not even a scarf, but he didn’t seem to care about the cold. The only thing he seemed preoccupied with was the street, as he kept glancing back at it.
Was he expecting someone or was it just a habit for him to constantly survey his surroundings? He hadn’t seen that snowball coming.
Just like she hadn’t seen his kiss coming. Or maybe she had but she’d wanted it too much to push him away. If Mark hadn’t interrupted them, she wouldn’t have stopped Thad. Being back in his arms, kissing him, had felt too good—too right. She touched her lips, which tingled yet from the contact with his. She could taste him, too, from when he’d slid his tongue between her lips deep into her mouth.
But she’d meant what she’d told him. Not about being over him—that had been a lie that he’d easily disproved. But about not wanting a relationship with him.
He was her son’s father, and that was all he would ever be to her. Not her lover. Not her boyfriend. Not even her friend.
Because she couldn’t trust him. But she wouldn’t have been able to beat him, either, if she’d fought to keep him away from Mark. Now, seeing them chase each other around the yard, she was glad that she hadn’t tried. She’d worked hard the past three years to be both mother and father to her son, but the little boy needed more than she had been able to give him.
He needed Thad.
And, as Thad grinned and laughed, she began to wonder if Thad didn’t need Mark, too. Enough to stay?
But then he glanced to the street again, his body tensing as if he’d identified a threat. To himself or to their son?
She knew when he left St. Louis that Thad put himself in danger. But she hadn’t realized until now that he could be in danger in St. Louis, as well. He had killed his sister’s stalker, but maybe in doing so, he had picked up his own. Or he had brought danger back with him from one of those war-torn countries?
She’d already had her doubts, but now she was certain that Thad Kendall was more than just a photojournalist.
Whatever else he was, he was also a father now. Would he put their son in the danger that he had constantly put himself in?
Chapter Four
Thad paced his brother’s office at Kendall Communications. This was all Devin had ever wanted, to be CEO and take over the running of their father’s company.
Uncle Craig might have been technically in charge ever since Joseph Kendall’s murder, but the business had grown even more after Devin had joined the company. The stock each of the Kendall siblings had inherited had definitely increased in value due to Devin’s initiatives.
Over the years, throughout his travels, Thad had come up with some ideas he’d love to see the company explore. While it may have been just a cover, he had become an expert on communications, some less legal than others.
Devin opened his office door but didn’t see Thad yet as he continued his conversation with the red-haired secretary who was also his fiancée. “I didn’t give you a chance to give me my messages,” he murmured to her as he wiped her lipstick from his mouth. “Did Turner call back?”
“No,” she replied. “According to his staff, he hasn’t been in the office at all this week and not much in the past few months. Not since his wife died. Maybe he is ready to retire and sell the company.”
Turner Connections LLC? Excitement coursed through Thad at the thought of Kendall Communications acquiring the company, which had a good number of defense contracts.
Devin snorted. “He’s younger than Uncle Craig. I doubt he’s ready to retire.”
Jolie sighed. “So you’re going to be one of those guys who never knows when to quit…?.”
“I thought that’s what you liked about me…?.” He leaned forward and kissed her again.
Thad cleared his throat to make them finally aware of his presence.
Jolie pulled free of Devin’s arms, her face flaming nearly as red as her hair. “I forgot to tell you Thad was waiting for you.”
“Probably because the two of you were too busy making out to remember I was back here,” Thad teased.
Jolie’s ringing phone drew her back to the outer office. With only a wave at Thad, she closed the door, leaving him and Devin alone together. Her fiancé stared after her for a moment, as if he’d not been ready to let her go. Natalie was right that each of his siblings had found true love.
“I’m surprised you manage to get any work done around here.”
“We don’t have a choice.” Devin pushed his hand through his hair as he made his way around his desk and dropped into the chair behind it. “It’s been pretty crazy around here since September.”
That was when Rick Campbell, the man behind bars for their parents’ murders, had been cleared of the crime. It hadn’t been long before authorities had been looking at a new prime suspect, though.
“I can’t believe that damn D.A. tried to blame Uncle Craig.” Thad wished he’d been home then; he would have skewered the man in the media. Instead, his family had been smeared. One of the first things he’d noticed on his return was how much his aunt and uncle had aged since he’d been gone. He suspected most of that had happened since September.
“He’s a son of a bitch,” Devin bitterly murmured. “But clearing Uncle Craig hasn’t ended the media circus.”
“Some good things came out of the coverage,” Thad reminded his older brother.
To protect Jolie’s reputation and the company image, Devin had proposed a fake engagement with his secretary. But that engagement had quickly become real when his stubborn brother had finally realized the depths of his feelings for the amazing woman who’d been his friend and right hand for years.
“It would be nice if the press would give us a break for a while,” Devin said, “especially with Christmas coming.”
“The media coverage has always been bad around Christmastime,” Thad reminded him. “And it’s even worse this year.”
Devin groaned. “It was going to be bad enough, given the twenty-year anniversary, but then with everything else that’s happened, the reporters have been relentless.”
Which was why Thad had told no one about Mark and Caroline. He didn’t want them being pulled into the media circus that was life as a Kendall. It might make Caroline change her mind about allowing Thad time with the boy, and it would no doubt frighten the child. Sure, his family wouldn’t let anything slip to reporters, but they would want to meet his son and that meeting would not go unnoticed by the press.
Thad glanced at his watch; he had a meeting to go to. He couldn’t believe he’d agreed to what he had. But then Mark had asked and he doubte
d he’d be able to deny the kid anything. It was a wonder that Caroline hadn’t spoiled the little charmer rotten. But he was a great kid. And kids loved Christmas. At least kids whose parents hadn’t been murdered on the holiday.
“Will you actually be here this Christmas?” Devin asked.
Thad shrugged. “Depends on when we catch our parents’ killer. Finally finding the real murderer is the only way to stop the media frenzy.” His body tensed with anger. “And get justice.”
“Is that why you came to my office?” Devin asked. “Have you found out something new?”
“I did,” Thad said, “when we found out that Natalie is only our half sister. But you didn’t seem very surprised by the news.” News that they hadn’t shared with anyone who hadn’t been at the meeting at Rachel’s lab. Thad had to tell Natalie first, but not only did he dread doing that, he’d also been too busy with Mark and Caroline.
Devin leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hand over his face. He had always looked the most like their father but never more so than now. Despite the happiness he’d found with his fiancée, he looked tired and tense, as if he’d been working too hard. At the family company or at keeping family secrets?
“What do you know about that night?” Thad wondered.
“I wasn’t even home,” Devin reminded him, his voice gruff with guilt. “I’d snuck out.”
“You were sixteen,” Thad said. “You wanted to hang out with your friends like other sixteen-year-olds. None of what happened was your fault. You couldn’t have prevented their deaths if you’d been home.”
Knowing Devin, he probably would have gotten himself killed, as well, if he’d even heard anything at all. The master bedroom was in an entirely separate wing of the house from where the kids’ bedrooms were, accessed by separate stairwells.
“We’ll never know that for certain,” Devin pointed out. “But Jolie’s helped me deal with it so that I could finally let the past go.”
Thad wouldn’t be able to do that until the killer had finally been brought to justice, and he wasn’t sure that even that would be enough for him. But he wouldn’t know until the killer was caught. “What do you know about the past that made Natalie’s paternity no surprise to you?”
Devin sighed wearily. “You’re not going to let this go. Damn reporter…”
Thad grinned. “That’s what I am.”
His brother fixed him with a steady gaze as if trying to determine if Thad told him the truth. “Is that all you are?”
Nerves tightened his stomach, but he forced a laugh. “You’re not getting out of this.” Nor was he getting the truth from Thad. At least not the whole truth. For the most part, he was a real photojournalist, reporting real stories for a real news station, but that was only a small part of what he was.
“I’m not an eleven-year-old kid, Devin. You don’t need to protect me anymore. Tell me everything you know about our parents. It’s the only way we’re going to catch their real killer.”
Devin hesitated as if determined to protect their memory.
“I don’t remember that much about them,” Thad said with regret and guilt. He had been eleven when they’d died; he should have had more memories of them.
What would Mark have when Thad left? At three, would he remember his father at all if, like Michaels, Thad didn’t make it out of his next assignment?
“I even looked through old photo albums the other day,” he said, but that had been to compare how much his son looked like he had at that age, “and they were hardly in them.”
“They weren’t around much,” Devin admitted. “Dad was here all the time, building this company. He was so ambitious.” He surveyed the office with pride in their father’s accomplishments.
He needed to take pride in what he’d accomplished, too. But there was something else he’d left out. “What about Mom?” Thad asked.
“You must remember how beautiful she was?”
Thad shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s my memory, though, or all the news reports that have been done about her over the years. They talk about her like she was a movie star or a princess.”
“She was the perfect trophy wife for a rich and powerful man like our father,” Devin said. “But she craved attention and always had to be the center of it.”
Thad stilled his usual restless pacing and focused on his brother. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that they weren’t happy.”
Thad remembered yelling. Screaming. Slamming doors. And he winced, realizing now what had been happening. “You were the oldest. You knew what was really going on with them.”
Devin nodded. “Affairs. While Dad was working so hard building this company, Mom was sleeping around.”
“With who?” His gut churned at the prospect that there was more than one. Finding Natalie’s biological father might not be as easy as Thad had hoped.
“I don’t know.” Devin shrugged. “I didn’t really want to know.” He sighed. “Hell, I don’t think our father wanted to know, either. They fought about her going out all the time, but I don’t think he realized she’d actually taken it as far as she had—to a hotel one of my friends worked at. Or maybe Dad was just too proud to admit it.”
“We need to find out who these men were,” Thad said, although the thought of delving into their mother’s affairs made him nauseous. There had been no mention of her affairs in the police report. The detectives had figured the murders were the result of a botched burglary and hadn’t looked any further for motives or suspects than the man who’d spent twenty years in prison for crimes he hadn’t committed.
“Do you remember the name of the hotel?”
Devin named one renowned for its discretion. “That was twenty years ago. You aren’t going to find out anything now.”
“I’ll try.” But he didn’t like his chances, either.
“That’s your theory here?” Devin said. “That Natalie’s real dad murdered our parents?”
“Why else would his son try to destroy the evidence that cleared Rick Campbell of the crimes?” he asked. “It’s a lead. About the only one we have right now.”
“You’ve been scarce lately,” Devin remarked. “Have you been chasing down leads?”
No. He’d been chasing down a squealing little boy who’d thrown snowballs at him. And kissing a woman he’d had no business kissing. After he’d forced that kiss on her, he’d been lucky she hadn’t thrown him out. Instead, she’d been accommodating about Thad spending time with their son. But usually she made herself scarce, going grocery shopping or Christmas shopping while he and Mark hung out.
He would spend tonight with both of them, as if they were a real family. But that they could never be, not just because of Thad’s real job but because of his real past.
HE WASN’T GOING TO SHOW. Caroline had known it the minute Mark had asked his father to meet them at the mall this Friday night to see Santa. Thad Kendall had been hunkered down, deeply embedded, in war zones. He had nearly been blown up and had almost been abducted, if there was any truth to news reports about him. But Mark asking him to visit Santa Claus was the first time Caroline had ever seen a flicker of panic in his blue eyes.
He hated Christmas. She understood why. And if she didn’t have a son who loved it, she would have been more sensitive to Thad’s predicament. But she hadn’t made an excuse to get him off the hook with Mark. She’d waited for him to come up with his own excuse.
Instead, he’d agreed, with a grim determination, as if he really intended to show up. And maybe he would. Maybe he hadn’t lied to their son.
Mark, hanging tight to her hand, glanced around the crowded mall. At his height, there was no way he could see beyond the crush of bodies in the shopping mob scene.
“Where is—” his voice grew soft with wonder “—my daddy?”
The words clutched at Caroline’s heart. Daddy. Mark hadn’t ever asked very many questions about his father before, probably because he’d seemed to lose interest when sh
e’d said that the man lived in another country and he wouldn’t be able to meet him. And Mark hadn’t ever acted as if he’d missed having a dad. But now that he knew Thad was his father, his daddy was all he ever talked about.
Wishing she could still be enough for him, she crouched down to her son’s level. “He’s really busy, honey.”
Thad hadn’t specifically told her, probably because she avoided conversations with him, but she suspected that he was personally trying to find his parents’ murderer.
“Something might have come up that he had to deal with,” she added. A lead that he was compelled to chase down, as he had chased down so many others in his career.
“But he said he’d meet us here,” Mark reminded her, his bottom lip sticking out in a slight pout. Her son never pouted; he was too sweet-natured for petulance. But, as she knew too well, Thad had a way of making a person want more than they ever had before.
“And he might come yet,” Caroline said, even though she doubted Thad would show. “But the line for Santa keeps getting longer, so we better get in it before we’re so far back we don’t get to see him tonight.”
The mall stayed open later during the holiday season, but to accommodate the entire line, it would probably have to stay open all night.
“But we’re s’pose to meet my daddy by the merry-go-round.”
The carousel spun around behind them, Christmas lights twinkling from it and Christmas music blaring out of its speakers. The line for Santa started near it and stretched to the North Pole at the other end of the mall.
“He’ll see us,” Caroline promised. It wasn’t as if the line actually appeared to be moving. The Friday-night crowd of teenagers and shoppers was so thick that people were barely able to move at all. Despite the heat from the crush of bodies, Caroline shivered as an uneasy sensation overcame her.
Maybe she’d picked up Thad’s unsettling habit, because she glanced around, trying to figure out what had precipitated her shudder of foreboding. Was someone watching her and Mark?
She didn’t notice anyone paying her and her son any particular attention. The other mothers and parents were struggling with their impatient children. The teenagers were more interested in each other, pawing at each other’s pockets or holding hands. And the shoppers were focused on trying to make their way through the crowd in order to track down the next items on their lists.
