Blood Strangers: Behind Closed Doors: Family Secrets

by Hinze, Vicki

  “GK is being evasive. How unlike you.”

  “SW is pushing, knowing all the troops have identity issues.” Remaining anonymous wasn’t just important. It was critical to their well-being.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry. Just concerned.”

  Shadow Watcher was concerned. About her. Her heart warmed. “Thanks. I’m fine.”

  “GK, whenever you say you’re fine, you’re never fine. You’re worried. Save the canned answers for those who don’t know you.”

  She grunted. “Must I remind you that you don’t really know me?” She hit Send then sipped at her tea.

  “Maybe we’ve never met, but I know you. You work too hard, you fully commit to what you do, you have no one else and you have a tough relationship with your father. In five years, you’ve mentioned him less than ten times—usually when you’re seeing him at Christmas and on his birthday, which you did not do last year. The birthday, I mean. You saw him Christmas.”

  He’d noticed all of that? “I sent him a birthday cake. I just didn’t visit.”

  “Didn’t know about the cake. Did know you hadn’t seen him.”

  Curious. “How did you know I hadn’t seen him?”

  “You weren't tense for a week. Whenever you see him, you’re as tight as stretched wire for a week either side of the visit.”

  Was she? She sipped from her tea and set her cup on the side-table coaster, then shrugged. She was. “I knew you were observant but not this observant.”

  “Oh, you’d be surprised. When I’m interested, nothing escapes me.”

  And he was interested in her? She must have misunderstood. That’s what he had said, but it couldn’t be what he’d meant. “Are you saying you’re interested in me?”

  “Of course.”

  Her heart slammed against her ribs. A bolt of panic and a reed of excitement too pleasant to accept as honest shot through her, confusing and anxiety-inducing. “Why?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Evasive? That was odd. “I asked why?”

  “At first, because you found Troop Search and Rescue. We don’t get found. I didn’t trust you. So, I watched you, and you were sharp. And really skilled. I wanted to know how skilled, so I kept watching. You can’t deny your talent is impressive, GK.”

  So was his. “You said, ‘at first’.”

  “I did.”

  Typical. Not giving an inch. She pushed. “That implies your reasons changed.”

  “They did.”

  She grumbled under her breath. “To what?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Always.”

  “Okay, then. Fascination. You are different from most women.”

  That could be a good or a bad thing. If bad, she didn’t want to know it. Not now. Gate Keeper was specifically gender neutral. How had he figured out she was a she? Since asking would be counter to her interests, she changed the subject. “You asked what my father wrote. It was just two words.”

  “What were they?”

  “Help me.”

  “With what?”

  “I’m not sure, but I suspect he’s got some trouble going on in addition to his health issues.” She made herself stop there, hoping she hadn’t already said too much. “I’ll know more tomorrow.”

  “Should I put Troop Search and Rescue on alert?”

  “No, absolutely not. I’ll handle it.” At some point in their conversation, she’d decided to trust him a little, but rely on him? On the troops? No. That was too far out of her comfort zone to even contemplate.

  “This is all tough stuff, GK. You don’t have to go through it alone. I—we—are here for you.”

  Her eyes burned. The back of her nose stung. And the desire rising in her to empty her heart to him swept through her. Words she had suppressed her whole life fought to be spoken. She swallowed hard repeatedly, barely kept them unspoken and contained inside her. Stuff it down! Stuff it down! “That’s very kind of you, but this is nothing I can’t handle.”

  “You don’t know that. You don’t even know yet what help he needs.”

  Because she couldn’t refute that, she changed the subject again. “How do you know I’m alone?” He knew she was a woman, too. “Have you investigated me, SW?”

  “Simple logic. You never mention anyone else. Not even in passing. Everyone else does. Names withheld, but relatives and their issues come up. Everybody has issues, GK. But the only person you ever mention is your father, and that’s only twice a year.”

  Side-stepping her question. Answering without answering. “You checked me out.” Her mind jumped into high gear. “Before you invited me to join Troop Search and Rescue.”

  “I can neither confirm nor deny your allegation, but I can vow you’ve nothing to fear from me. I never tangle with a woman sharper than I am who wouldn’t hesitate to rip me to shreds.”

  “Détente.”

  “Ah, good. So, will you admit now that you checked me out, too?”

  She’d tried, of course. Met with limited success but gave it her every effort. Still, her face went hot. “I’ve looked at all our members, of course. It’s my job. Can’t cover someone’s back or keep the bad guys on the outside of the gate if you don’t know anything about them.”

  “Fair enough. Were you fascinated, too?”

  Another odd response. And it ignited an even odder response in her. “SW, are you flirting with me? Because it appears you are and, if you are, I have to tell you, your timing is terrible.”

  “Maybe my timing is off, but you don’t sound scared anymore. Your fire is back.”

  A smile curved her lips and she scraped her teeth over her lower lip. “Touché. And thanks.” Definitely a guy reaction and way of handling things. Was the flirting just a distraction then? Highly likely. Her disappointment about that however was very real.

  “Data incoming on Cally Jean. I expect an update from you tomorrow on your father. Don’t let me down, GK. I’m alone and need to feel needed, too.”

  She read, then re-read that last sentence half a dozen times, feeling the bond between them strengthen. “I won’t let you down.” Committing, she took the plunge. “You’re not alone. I’m the Gate Keeper. I’ve got your back.”

  Chapter Four

  Garden District

  Monday, November 30, 9:00 p.m.

  The days after the hospital summons passed in a blur of work, doctors and hospital visits. In piece-meal and, Gabby feared, half-truth revelations from her father about his situation. And in text messages with Shadow Watcher, trying to make sense of the puzzle pieces her father presented. Today, he had shocked her, dropping the entire puzzle right in her lap.

  That night, in her cozy chair with her tea, she texted Shadow Watcher. “Free?”

  “Waiting for you, actually. We’ve got good news. It’s taken a lot longer than expected, but we located Cally Jean Smith last night. Less than twenty miles north of the Mexican border. Rescue op was successful. As of four o’clock this afternoon, she’s back with her family.”

  Twenty miles. “Wow. That was close.” If she’d crossed the border, the odds of ever finding her dropped to miniscule. “Is she okay?”

  “Bruised and scraped but not physically violated. Docs say with time, she’ll be fine.”

  The professionals would help her deal with the emotional scars. In cases like these, there were always emotional scars. They’d give her tools to help her cope constructively, and there was solace in that. “Wonderful news. Congratulate the troops.”

  “Will do. So, what’s new on your home front?”

  “Bombshell day.” In a few days, she’d moved past withholding information from him. He seemed to always know what she didn’t say anyway, and what she didn’t bring up, he led her to reveal. Oddly, recognizing exactly what he was doing didn’t bother her. It gave her a license to open up and talk about it. That was a luxury she’d never before had and, even more bizarre, she liked it. Talked about, the issues didn’t seem as dark or overwhelming. “His doctor wa
nts him out of the hospital—risks of contracting the virus—and he doesn’t recommend rehab for the same reason, so my father is coming home shortly, but he can’t take care of himself. I’m moving back in with him for a while. Keeping my apartment.”

  “Great for him. Not so good for you, considering. Wise, keeping the apartment. You’ll need a refuge.” Blunt and to the point, as usual. “How can you take care of him and work? Remote?”

  “Remote isn’t an option.” Peter Handel wanted her on site and wouldn’t bend on that. She couldn’t blame him for not wanting Fitch loose and unmonitored much less in control. “I hired an angel, Lucy Mason. She’s going to be with him when I’m not. She’s a caretaker and physical therapist the doctor recommended.”

  “Did you run a check on this angel?”

  “Briefly. Not much time. But she’s well-trained, recommended and bonded.”

  “I’ll go deep.”

  Shadow Watcher’s brief checks outshone her deep background checks. He had a talent for them and access to places she couldn’t go. How he’d gotten it, she had no idea and she had never asked. “Thanks.”

  “Anything new on exactly what he’s afraid of?”

  She’d already told Shadow Watcher about her father’s one-man business and his clients being high-profile, shady and neck-deep in questionable deals. That he’d plop her in the middle of those activities had infuriated Shadow Watcher. What had happened today wouldn’t sit well either. “His ‘help me’ mystery is finally solved.” Why her father had dragged out telling her until the last minute was anyone’s guess. He hadn’t explained, and she’d wearied of asking him questions he steadfastly refused to answer. “Until he recovers, he wants me to run his business.”

  “He’s deliberately involving you with thugs he fears want him dead? He’s putting you front and center on George Medros’s radar? Is he still confused or crazy?”

  She couldn’t fault Shadow Watcher for raising the very questions she’d wondered herself. George Medros was one of the biggest organized crime bosses in the State of Louisiana. One of the most ruthless, too. That flood-of-betrayal feeling returned, and she didn’t bother trying to stop it. She’d failed repeatedly and just accepted her father was willing to sacrifice her to save himself. That truth, strangely enough, didn’t at all shock her. He’d protected himself and his emotions her entire life. “Confused? No. Crazy? Probably, but so am I. I agreed to help him.”

  “No, GK. No way.”

  “Way. I’m doing it, SW.” Gabby dug in her heels.

  “Why? Knowing what you know, doing what you do, why would you get mixed up in any of this? You could lose everything, including your life.”

  Truth time. Did she dare? She didn’t not dare, considering Shadow Watcher’s connections with authorities. “I have to help him. This is the first time he’s ever looked me in the eye or asked me for anything. For the first time ever, he isn’t pushing me away and keeping his distance. He finally isn’t treating me as if I’m worthless.” She paused, then added, “He needs me and my help. How can I refuse? Could you refuse your father?”

  “My father isn’t afraid his client’s going to kill him,” Shadow Watcher shot back. “I can’t believe the man is dragging his only child into the middle of his mess. Think about that, GK.”

  Valid point. “I have thought about all of it. But if I don't help him, he’ll lose everything he’s worked for his whole life. He’ll have nothing.”

  “If he’s dead, he won’t need anything. If you are, neither will you.”

  “And that’s the point. If I help him, he won’t be dead. I can do what needs doing in a couple of hours each night. No one will know he isn’t doing the work himself, so I won’t be in jeopardy.” She omitted disclosing her father insisting on that, citing his need to avoid his clients having a confidence crisis. He didn’t mention the potential conflict of interest doing his work created for her at Handel. Peter Handel would fire her in a heartbeat.

  Had her father even thought about that? Unsure, the possibility he hadn’t grated on her. But, either way, she wouldn’t turn her back on him. She’d been waiting for this chance forever. Surely, this would create the father-daughter bond she’d hungered for her entire life. Surely, it would.

  “Look, GK. I get it. You think maybe this will bring you two closer together.”

  “Maybe we’ll finally be family. Do you know what it’s like to never have that, SW? To be almost strangers with your one parent and to have no one else?”

  “Honestly, no, I don’t. I’m alone not because I don’t have family, but because I keep a lot of secrets from them. Have to, with what I’m doing. But that doesn’t change the facts. He is putting you at risk. I have a bad feeling about this, and that’s the truth.”

  “You’re afraid I’m going to be disappointed and hurt.”

  “I’m afraid you’re going to be dead or crushed and in a bad mood for a lot longer than a week either side one of your visits to him.”

  “I probably will be crushed,” she admitted. “Emotionally, anyway. Odds are against anything else, but if there’s a chance—even a small one—I have to take it.”

  “And that admission is one of the things about you that fascinates me.”

  He fascinated her, too. He had since the beginning, but this week . . . He somehow made all of the upset and uneasiness in her life easier to shoulder. At first, she thought that was because she was actually talking with him about personal matters. But she’d come to accept the reason went deeper. He was on her side. She’d never before had anyone on her side like this. There was strength in it.

  Oh, Shadow Watcher still came across as blunt and brusque, but he was caring and blunt and brusque, softening, and so was she. The walls around her life, guarding her privacy and keeping others at arm’s length were crumbling. At least where he was concerned. Not that her initial reaction about her father putting her at risk had been unlike Shadow Watcher’s. It’d been exactly like his reaction. Still, this chance to bond . . . she had to take it. Her hungry heart, the neglected child inside, the isolated woman facing the world alone, insisted on it. She’d talk Shadow Watcher around eventually. “Really, I’m not expecting a miracle. But I am going to hope, SW.” It took a lot for her to admit that. “God works in mysterious ways.”

  “You hope then. Me? I’ll pray he doesn’t get you both killed.”

  An icy shiver coursed through her. Clearly, Shadow Watcher understood the stakes.

  * * *

  Friday, December 4, 7:45 p.m.

  Just before midnight on the eve of her father’s hospital release, Shadow Watcher had reported back that the angel hired to help care for Gabby’s father, Lucy Mason, was squeaky clean. She’d never had a passport, had no priors—not even a traffic ticket—and like many in New Orleans, she was a devout Catholic who attended morning mass daily and had done so for years. “No one’s slate is that clean,” Shadow Watcher had warned Gabby. “I’m going to keep digging.”

  And he had kept digging, but reportedly had found nothing, which worried him and amused Gabby. Dogs with their bones had nothing on Shadow Watcher when he was on a mission. He never quit, and he refused to let go.

  What beyond Lucy’s ultra-clean living had triggered his instincts, Gabby had no idea. But in the past, when Shadow Watcher had been triggered, something had eventually turned up. That fact niggled at Gabby and kept her on guard.

  Release-Day morning passed quickly at work, and in the afternoon, Gabby retrieved her father from Tulane and took him home. Shadow Watcher still hadn’t dug up any dirt on Lucy, so he finally warmed to the idea of giving Gabby an all-clear with almost no reservation. His almost all-clear of course included a keep-a-close-watch advisory. That was pretty good for a man who never backed off an instinctive warning in his life, and it helped soothe Gabby’s concerns.

  She’d been on her own for five years and out of her father’s house. The idea of moving back into it and getting involved in his work had her nerves plenty raw. Lucy summe
d up their situation in short order and, giving her credit, she didn’t seem fazed by it. Actually, she made an excellent buffer between Gabby and her father.

  The first three days went well. Work, then home to a hot meal. Her father remained in his room for his protection from the virus. Important with Gabby and Lucy interacting with others. A quick check on him each evening through his bedroom door, and that had been that.

  But this was day four, Friday night actually, and it would be different. A challenge. It would be Gabby’s first night doing Adian Blake’s work, and they were to start in on it immediately after dinner. Lucy would place a chair in the hallway and from his bed, he could brief Gabby through the door on the work to be done.

  Gabby had been on edge about that briefing since lunch. By the time she was ready to leave the office, she was a bundle of nerves and delaying her departure. Once she opened the first file on his work, she couldn’t go back. She wasn’t sure she would be able to meet her own eyes in the mirror. Was a long-elusive father-daughter bond worth a woman’s integrity? Forfeiting her self-respect? Normally, it would not be. But the starved child in her craved acceptance. Craved approval. Honestly, she craved love.

  Living a life never having been loved by anyone created a potent force. A chance to change that demanded all. Nothing else in life had proven as strong as that need and desire. Everyone should be important to someone. To just one someone . . .

  Gabby parked her car in the drive then tucked her keys into her handbag. Outside the front door of her father’s house, she stopped, her hand on the doorknob, and took in three long, deep breaths to steady herself. Expelling the last one, she twisted the knob. The door creaked open.

  Unlocked? Gabby frowned. Lucy kept the door locked. It’d been locked every other night. Why wasn’t it locked now? Gabby’s stomach sank. Every nerve in her body went on alert. She pushed the door open wider. Dark inside, she called out. “Lucy?”

  No answer.

  Some instinct kept Gabby’s feet firmly on the front porch. She stretched to see deeper into the house. Not a single light burned. Even the lamp in the entryway, which typically stayed lit around the clock, was off. Gabby’s alarm deepened. Dread washed through her. “Lucy?” she called out again.