by Laura Scott
“No. Other than I assume they were sent by either Barton or Hayes.”
“But why come to my house?” Jillian asked.
Hawk glanced at her. “It’s no secret we were once married. The only thing I can figure out is that they intended to kidnap you and Lizzy in order to get me to come out of hiding.”
Chills rippled down her spine at his theory. “But that doesn’t make any sense. It wouldn’t have worked. I didn’t even know you were alive until this morning.”
“They didn’t know that,” Hawk reasoned. “I have to assume that my prying into Senator Barton’s past triggered several alarms. They’d never found my body after the plane crash but probably chalked that up to me crawling off somewhere to die.”
“Maybe.” She wasn’t convinced.
“It’s possible they now believe we’ve been in touch with each other over the years.”
Ridiculous, since there had been no contact since the day she’d been informed that James had died.
“That was the worst day of my life,” she said in a low voice.
“What was?”
She struggled to ward off tears. “Finding out you were dead on the same day I discovered I was pregnant.”
Hawk’s grip on the steering wheel tightened to the point his knuckles went white. A thick, heavy silence hung between them for several miles. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he finally managed.
She sniffled and swiped at her face. Why she was getting all emotional over this, she had no idea. She felt guilty for making him feel bad. “It was hardly your fault. It was just—rotten timing.”
“Yeah.” There was a pause, then he asked, “Who came to see you?”
She shook her head helplessly. “I can’t remember his name now but probably have it at home somewhere. I think he left his card. Master Sergeant Somebody-or-other.”
“I’m surprised you kept it all these years.”
“I kept a lot of things over the years.” There was no reason to feel defensive, and she tried to tone it down. “I have several pictures of us together. I show them to Lizzy so she’ll remember you.”
“That’s, uh, nice.” Hawk’s tone held uncertainty and she realized she’d done it again. Lizzy didn’t have to remember her father from a photo.
He was here now. He looked different, yes, but he was still her father. And they needed to find a time to tell the little girl that Hawk was her daddy.
Which also meant that in the eyes of God, they were still married.
All at once, it all seemed overwhelming. She’d made a life for herself and Lizzy, and now things would never be the same. Hawk deserved to spend time with his daughter, she wouldn’t keep that from him.
And what about the two of them? What had he said earlier? That he wouldn’t hold her to anything? What did that even mean? She’d loved James with her whole heart.
But there was no denying Hawk was mostly a stranger.
She’d never been with another man, not even on a date. At first it had been because of Lizzy. Being a single mother, even with her mother’s support, had been difficult.
Four months after Lizzy’s first birthday, her mother had suffered a stroke and died. Leaving Jillian and Lizzy alone, again.
“I’m sorry,” Hawk said, reaching over to put his hand on her knee. “I’m sure it was difficult raising Lizzy by yourself.”
She stared at his broad, calloused hand, wishing she dared take it in hers. She hated this awkwardness between them. “I have a box of your things saved in the basement, too.” She hoped changing the subject might ease the tension. “In case Lizzy wanted them someday.”
Hawk’s brow furrowed in a frown. “What kind of things?”
She shrugged. “Little things, the pocket watch you got from your dad, the birthday card you gave me just before you left for deployment.” She tried to think back to what she’d tucked away for their daughter. “Oh, and I recently pulled out that packet of information you sent from overseas.”
His hand tightened on her knee. “What packet?”
“The brown envelope. You sent it from Afghanistan.”
“What was inside?” There was a new sense of urgency in his tone.
“I don’t know. You said it was nothing important. That I shouldn’t bother opening it and to put it away until you came home.”
“And you’re certain I sent it to you from Afghanistan?”
“I’m certain that’s what you told me when you called.” She grew frustrated with his persistence. “Don’t you remember sending it to me? Or calling to let me know to expect it?”
“No. I don’t.” Hawk’s clipped tone made her stomach clench. “There are still holes in my memory and I don’t recall sending you anything from overseas.”
Her stomach clenched with fear. “You think someone else sent it to me?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m sure it was me. I only wish I could remember what it was.”
The knots in her stomach tightened. “You should know that I made a call to Fort Bragg during my lunch hour, to let them know I had some stuff of yours they may need. It was probably a lame thing to do, but I was cleaning out the basement and thought maybe the information in the envelope might be important.”
“When?” his tone was sharp.
“Earlier this week.” She thought back. “Monday or Tuesday. I remember thinking no one would get back to me until after the holidays.”
“Did you talk to anyone in particular?”
She shrugged. “The woman who answered the phone said she’d let her superior know. I can’t remember her name.” She abruptly realized the timing was too much of a coincidence. “You think those men came because of the envelope?”
Hawk glanced over at her. “There’s only one way to find out. Once I have you and Lizzy stashed someplace safe, I’ll head back to check it out.”
Jillian gaped at him. “No! It’s too dangerous.”
Hawk didn’t say anything but she recognized the stubborn glint in his steel blue eyes.
She forced herself to relax. The envelope could be nothing. She’d gotten it over four years ago.
Yet even as Hawk pulled into the parking lot of a drugstore, she couldn’t help but hope and pray the brown envelope held the key to getting them all out of danger.
FIVE
Hawk couldn’t shake the fact that two men in masks had come to Jillian’s home three days after her phone call to Fort Bragg. He realized that his initial assumption had changed. It wasn’t his probing into Barton’s past that had caused the attack, but Jillian finding the envelope he’d apparently sent more than four years ago.
He absolutely needed to get his hands on the contents of that envelope. But not until he’d made sure Jillian and Lizzy were safe.
He was surprised at how seriously Jillian took the task of caring for his wound. She was a woman on a first aid mission. After purchasing supplies she deemed appropriate, they sat in the front seat of the SUV. She used wipes to wash the front and back of his shoulder, then added antibiotic ointment before placing gauze over the through-and-through bullet wounds.
“We need to get you to a hospital right away.” Jillian pinned him with a stern glare. “This will get infected.”
“Soon.” He knew she was right, but there wasn’t time. Not to mention that bullet wounds were an automatic report to the cops, and he wasn’t letting that happen. He made a mental note to ask Mitch Callahan if his ER nurse wife, Dana, could get him antibiotics. Enough to hold him over until Jillian and Lizzy were safe.
“I’m hungry,” Lizzy said again. “And so is Teddy.”
Jillian finished taping the gauze down before turning to her daughter. “I know. The restaurant is right across the street, see?”
Lizzy leaned forward in her car seat. Hawk pulled his T-shirt back on, then shrugged into his leather jack
et, hoping the bullet holes marring the smooth leather weren’t too obvious. “We’ll be there in less than five minutes.”
Jillian sat back in her seat and pulled on the seat belt. She placed the garbage from the supplies she’d used neatly in a bag. She was tougher than he remembered, more resilient and independent. It felt weird to have her taking care of him after being alone for so long.
Even with the Callahans, he’d maintained a level of privacy. There were six Callahans in total, and all of them had names starting with the letter M, thanks to a quirk of their parents. Marc was an FBI agent, Miles a homicide detective, Mitch an arson investigator, Matthew a K-9 cop and Maddy an assistant district attorney, while Mike, who was a deputy sheriff now, used to be a private investigator like him. Hawk was closest to Mike but had helped some of the other siblings from time to time over the last couple of years.
Now it was his turn. He decided that after they ate lunch, he’d make the call to Mike asking for as many of the Callahans as were available to meet him at the cabin motel.
The restaurant loomed before him. He passed all the close parking spots to choose one that was behind the building, far enough away that it couldn’t be seen from the road.
Satisfied for the moment, he took a few minutes to search for a GPS tracking device. Logically, he felt four armed men with guns wouldn’t want a GPS device on their vehicle, but he needed to make sure. Thankfully, he was familiar with this particular SUV make and model, so he knew what he was looking for. He didn’t find any type of tracking device, which made him let out a sigh of relief. Still, he’d need a different car and knew the request wouldn’t be a surprise to the Callahans.
They’d had a lot of practice hiding from bad guys with guns and had a well-oiled routine.
Jillian took Lizzy out of the car seat and he stepped forward, intending to take the girl from her arms. But then he hesitated, remembering how scared Lizzy was of him and his scarred face.
“Will you let Hawk carry you?” Jillian asked their daughter as if reading his thoughts. “My arms are getting tired.”
Lizzy hunched her shoulders, dipping her head shyly, and nodded. Hawk smiled, hoping his expression wasn’t too frightening as he gently pulled Lizzy from Jillian’s arms.
Lizzy didn’t exactly lean against him for support, but she didn’t seem upset by being close to him, either. She still had the teddy bear and he was secretly surprised the stuffed animal had made it this far.
He renewed his silent promise to keep Lizzy and Jillian safe from harm.
“You have an ouchie.” Lizzy’s soft fingers lightly touched his deeply grooved cheek. “Does it hurt?”
It took a minute for him to respond. “No, it doesn’t hurt.”
“Did your mommy kiss it and make it better?”
This time a genuine smile bloomed on his face. “No, my mommy wasn’t there when it happened.”
Lizzy studied him intently. “Maybe my mommy could kiss it and make it better.”
Jillian let out a choked sound that could have been a horrified gasp or a cough, he wasn’t sure which.
“It’s okay, Lizzy,” he reassured her, wishing he’d gone to see a plastic surgeon to have the scar fixed. Not that he was convinced he’d look all that much better afterward, but it may be enough to be more appealing for his daughter. And, for that matter, to Jillian. “I promise it doesn’t hurt.”
“Table for three, please,” Jillian said to the restaurant hostess.
“Right this way.”
Within minutes they were seated at a corner booth that overlooked the main highway. Hawk sat with his back to the wall, facing the door. He mentally mapped out an escape plan as Jillian and Lizzy discussed what they wanted from the menu.
“Would you like to start with something to drink?” Their server, a plump woman whose name tag read Patty, smiled brightly. She had freckles and shockingly red hair that seemed too harsh to be natural. She waited, holding her pen and pad at the ready.
“Coffee for me,” Hawk said.
“Me, too,” Jillian added. “And chocolate milk for Lizzy, please.”
“Coming right up.” Patty quickly returned with a pot of coffee for the adults. The chocolate milk arrived a few minutes later.
They ordered their meals. Burger medium rare for Hawk, turkey club for Jillian and chicken strips with French fries for Lizzy. While they waited for their food to arrive, he pulled out his phone and called Mike.
“Hawk? What’s wrong?” The alarm in Mike’s tone made him smile.
“I need a favor.”
“It must be bad if you’re calling in a favor.” Mike Callahan knew him too well.
“It is.” Hawk watched as Lizzy colored on a paper place mat, with crayons provided by the restaurant to keep children busy. “Meet me at the cabin motel you used last summer with the usual.”
Mike let out a low whistle at his request. “The usual being a vehicle, computer and disposable phones.”
Hawk rotated his injured shoulder. “Yeah. Also, check with Mitch, see if Dana can get any antibiotics.”
“You’re wounded?” Mike sounded truly alarmed, as if Hawk being hurt was inconceivable. “What happened? Why didn’t you call sooner?”
The corner of Hawk’s mouth quirked in a smile. It was nice knowing you had a Callahan covering your back. “Long story. I’ll fill you in later.”
“Okay, give me an hour, maybe a little longer to get the antibiotics. I don’t think Dana can just get them from the hospital without obtaining a prescription.”
Hawk’s smile faded at the implication. “I don’t want her to get in trouble.”
“Trust me, Mitch won’t let that happen. But we all owe you, Hawk. We’ll do our best to get what you need.”
“Thank you.” Hawk knew it was more than owing a favor. The Callahans cared about him and wanted to help. It made him realize how much he’d missed being part of a team. Being the lone survivor of the plane crash intended to kill him, he had forged ahead alone. The Thornhills had helped but then hadn’t wanted anything more to do with him. Which in hindsight was smart on their part. He’d brought danger to them once, and it was clear they didn’t want any further contact that would put them in jeopardy.
He glanced at Jillian, thinking about how he’d lived next door to her for the past five months. Friendly and helpful, yet keeping his distance.
Now he wanted more.
He disconnected from the line and then turned off the phone. He made a mental note to destroy it when they left the restaurant.
Ten minutes later, their meals arrived. Jillian cut up Lizzy’s chicken strips and then once again bowed her head to pray. Lizzy was watching him curiously, so he mirrored Jillian’s actions, bowing his head and clasping his hands in front of him while she said a whispered prayer.
“Dear Lord, we thank You for keeping us safe in Your care. Please continue to provide us the strength and wisdom we need to seek justice.” She paused, then added, “And thank You for this food, too. Amen.”
“Amen,” Lizzy quipped.
Hawk cleared his throat. “Amen.”
Jillian glanced at him in surprise, a pleased expression on her face. “Thanks, Hawk.”
He had no idea what she was thanking him for but nodded. “Let’s eat. We need to hit the road soon.”
She frowned but began to eat her club sandwich. After a few minutes, she asked, “You spoke with Mike?”
“He’ll meet us with everything we need.” Hawk didn’t want to say too much in front of Lizzy. “And he’ll stay with you while I go back to your place.”
“No. I don’t want you to go alone.” The stubborn glint was back in her green gaze.
Hawk didn’t respond because he wasn’t sure how many of the Callahans would be free to come to his aid. If only two brothers were able to come, then he absolutely wanted them both to stay with J
illian and Lizzy. He needed them well protected. If a third was able to come, then he might be able to take someone along for backup.
He desperately needed to get his hands on that envelope. The one he didn’t remember sending from Afghanistan. The one Jillian had recently called Fort Bragg about. Hawk had a feeling deep in his gut the contents of the envelope would help him get to the bottom of this mess.
He only hoped and prayed there was evidence in there linking Rick Barton to something illegal.
Because it was clear he couldn’t depend on his moldy Swiss-cheese memories.
* * *
Jillian was relieved that Hawk had called Mike Callahan for assistance. Not because she didn’t trust him, but because she was afraid his wound would soon impact his ability to keep them safe.
Had James ever been as stubborn as Hawk was? Her memories of James were fond and loving, focused on the good times they’d spent together far more than on the bad. They’d met at the restaurant where she’d worked while finishing up her teaching degree. They were only married for a year before James had been deployed and had dated for six months before that. Eighteen months total, another reason that it wasn’t easy to mesh the current reality of Hawk with her fading memories of James.
Their marriage hadn’t been perfect, no marriage was. Still, she’d mourned a long time for what she’d lost.
Yet James, er, Hawk was sitting beside her.
Lizzy played with her French fries, as if they were tiny dolls who were living in a home together. A tall French fry was telling the smaller one to go clean up her room. “No. Don’t want to,” Lizzy said in a high, fake voice. “I wanna go outside and play.”
“You must clean your room!” The stern taller fry was obviously the mother talking to her child. Jillian’s lips curved in a smile.
“Guess there’s no daddy French fry,” Hawk said in a low voice.
