All a Man Is

by Janice Kay Johnson

“I’m scared,” Matt whispered.

  “You should be. Somebody was shooting at us.”

  The boy gulped. “At us?”

  “Looked that way.” Alec moved fast, crossing an open five feet or so, then paused behind the narrower bole of another pine. “Stay,” he said again.

  Ten minutes later, he’d reached the campground, where he found a terrorized group congregated behind an RV. Scared gazes riveted on the small Colt in his hand. He extracted his badge, which he’d stowed out of habit in the back pocket of his khakis.

  “Anybody see who was shooting?”

  Headshakes all around, then the predictable babble, one voice running over another.

  “You see or hear any vehicles leaving the parking lot?”

  “Yes!” Eyes still rolling like a spooked horse’s, a woman said, “Just now. I think it was a pickup.”

  “Yeah,” an older man agreed. “Or maybe an SUV. White.”

  “It was silver,” insisted one of the fishermen. “I heard the door slam. Thought someone was taking off because, shit, those were gunshots.”

  “They were,” Alec said grimly. “All right. I’m going to call for reinforcements.”

  No, damn it—he’d put his phone in the day pack, left behind with Matt. He borrowed someone else’s and reached dispatch for the sheriff’s department. A woman assured him a unit was on the way. He thanked the teenager who’d lent him the phone, then returned through the woods, not on the trail, for Matt.

  By that time, Matt was gibbering with excitement and the aftermath of adrenaline. “Is anybody dead?” He sounded torn between dread and ghoulish hope.

  “Not that I’ve found so far. I think those shots came closest to us,” Alec said.

  “Do you think somebody didn’t see us there?”

  It was possible, of course; people too often were idiots when they had a firearm in their hands. Or when they didn’t, come to think of it. But Alec’s every instinct whispered, No. This was no accident. Somebody had been trying to kill him.

  Or Matt, he thought with a chill. He was the one who’d crouched before the sound of the gunshot. Alec had still been standing there, a perfect target.

  He wouldn’t be sorry if he were dead. But if this boy he loved had been bleeding at his feet, Alec would have suffered.

  The lingering adrenaline made a fine starter for rage like nothing he’d ever felt before, a spark in dry grass. Threatening him was one thing. But his family?

  Whoever they were, those bastards would pay.

  * * *

  “WHAT?” JULIA STARED in shock at Alec. Matt slouched beside him. The two looked back with those dark eyes, so much alike.

  “You heard me.” Alec sounded grim. “Only two shots, but those bullets came damn close to us. I think it had to be deliberate.”

  “But...why?” Her brain wanted to stutter to a halt. What if one of them had been killed? She could not lose anyone else she loved. She couldn’t. “I don’t understand,” she faltered.

  “Matt.” Alec barely glanced at her son. “Go to your room. I need to talk to your mother.”

  Matt reared back. “But I was there! Why can’t I stay? I’m not some little kid.”

  “You’re not an adult, either. There are things she needs to know that I don’t want you to hear.”

  His mouth opened and worked. Julia saw the moment he translated adult dismissal into rejection.

  Matt whirled and ran. His bedroom door slammed so hard it vibrated the few framed pictures she’d hung in the hall.

  “That...might not have been smart,” she suggested.

  Alec said a word he never had around her before, paced away and swung back. “Did you want him to hear that I think somebody tried to kill him today?”

  Shock bumped her again. “Him?”

  “I could be wrong. The shooter might have been aiming at me. But I don’t think so. We’d stopped momentarily and I was a bigger target. Just before I heard the gunshot, Matt dropped down suddenly to look at something on the ground.”

  “But...that makes no sense!” she cried. “He’s thirteen! Why would anybody try to shoot him?”

  “Happens all the time in L.A.”

  She dismissed that with a shake of the head. “Drive-bys. Gangs. This was different.”

  “Yeah,” he conceded. “It was.” He let out a long breath. “Let’s sit in the kitchen. There’s...something I haven’t told you.”

  He grabbed a can of soda and all but drained it in one long drink. Enveloped by this feeling of unreality, Julia watched him, his head tipped, throat working. His shirt was open a couple of buttons, and sweat sheened his face and neck and chest and made dark circles under his arms. After setting down the can, he wiped a bead of cola from his chin.

  Julia sat across from him, her back straight, her hands clasped, feeling rather like she had this past year in the too-frequent school conferences where she was braced to hear from a teacher or vice principal the latest outrages perpetuated by her son. Ashamed, as if all this was her fault.

  As it might be, she reminded herself. In a way.

  Alec eyed her with a look she could only interpret as wary. “Let me say first,” he said, “that it’s possible this was nothing but stupidity. Who knows? A teenager out shooting for fun. Neither of us is wearing as bright colors as maybe we should have.”

  She nodded; his shirt was olive-green and he wore khaki pants. Matt’s shorts were khaki-colored, too, and today’s T-shirt was a faded navy.

  “The sheriff’s deputies who showed up didn’t want to believe this was a deliberate assault.” His jaw muscles spasmed; he hadn’t liked being patronized. “Of course, they work for Eugene Brock.”

  She sat back, eyes widening. “Explain.”

  “I’m getting there.” He sighed. “I’ve been threatened a couple of times recently.”

  Her breath left her.

  “You saw the newscast that night at the hotel when I expressed strong support for Colin McAllister in his run for sheriff,” Alec continued.

  Julia nodded.

  “I was told to withdraw that support publicly or I’d be sorry.” He paused. “When I didn’t follow instructions, a couple weeks later, I got another call offering me one more chance.”

  She somehow convinced her lungs to draw air and pushed away the image of a bullet slamming into Alec’s broad chest, of blood blossoming and him staggering, then folding and going down as his life drained out. It was horrifyingly vivid. She’d imagined Josh’s death a thousand times.

  He reached across the table suddenly, grasping one of her hands. “Julia...” he said in an altered tone.

  “But that means they’d be trying to kill you,” she said, her voice rising. They. Faceless, inimical.

  “That’s what I thought. It’s why I didn’t tell you.”

  Her shock turned to anger and she bristled. “What does that mean? You didn’t think a threat to you was any of my business?” She was distantly aware she was yelling. “That, hey, you go down in the line of duty, it’s nothing to us?”

  “Ah...no.” Looking more cautious, he let go of her hand and sat back. “I know how to take care of myself, Julia. I’ve been extra careful. I only meant that I didn’t think you needed to take any unusual precautions with the kids or in your own activities.”

  She jumped up, unable to sit any longer. Crossing her arms tightly, Julia paced across the kitchen, then swung to face him. “Don’t alarm the little woman, right? How...how Josh you sound.”

  Alec’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t use that brush on me. I face threats on the job. I don’t have to bring them home.”

  Her chin jutted out. “But this time you did.”

  She could see him clench his jaw. He dipped his head. “Yeah. I’m afraid this time I might have.”


  Hearing something like agony in his voice, she felt her anger falter. Alec would never willingly do anything to endanger her or the kids, she knew that. She had no doubt he would give his life for any of them. For Liana or Matt, anyway.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, then went back to the table and made herself sit again. “Okay. Explain why you think someone who is mad at you might have taken a potshot at Matt.”

  “Two potshots.”

  That sent a shudder through her. One stray shot was an accident; two was a whole lot more suggestive. “Two,” she echoed.

  “I could be wrong,” he said again. “Even if he was aiming our way, the guy might just have been a lousy shot. Though both bullets came closer than I like,” he added reflectively. Seeing the gathering storm on her face, he seemed to shake that off. “I was reminded of the way the threat was phrased. ‘You’ll be sorry.’ The thing is, if what they really want is me to throw my support behind Sheriff Brock, or at least to embarrass McAllister by yanking that support from him, killing me won’t achieve the goal. With Matt wounded or dead, I’d definitely be sorry. They might think that would do the trick.”

  She wanted to kill someone, if only she knew who. Then panic hit her and she leaped up, turning her head until she spotted her phone lying on the counter. “I have to be sure Liana is at Sophie’s.”

  Sophie’s mother, home from work, confirmed that the girls were there. Julia managed to calm herself before she resumed her seat, where she ventured, “Could the miss have been intentional? To make the threat more real?”

  “That might be,” he agreed. “Either way, we need to keep the kids under close watch. Preferably inside. I’d like a good, solid fence around the back, the sooner the better. One somebody would have to scale to see over. I’ll make some calls Monday.”

  “Then...you won’t do what they want.”

  “Is that what you think I should do?” His tone was entirely neutral, stripped of all opinion and emotion.

  Would he if she asked? She didn’t want to know the answer. After a moment, she shook her head. “I’m scared, but...of course not. If this Brock person would use tactics like these to win an election, he’s the last person who should be in office. Especially heading a law-enforcement agency! Anyway, your ethics are too important to you.”

  “Not as important as you and the kids.”

  She smiled shakily. “Thank you for saying that. And for offering, if that’s what you were doing. But no.”

  Alec nodded, his relaxation so subtle she wouldn’t have seen it if she hadn’t known him so well. “All right. I don’t really expect an attack in town. You should be safe enough in a crowd, say, at the pool. But we can’t let Matt take off on his bike the way he has been. Good thing he’s on restriction. The orienteering class would have been out, that’s for sure. Horseback riding should be okay for Liana. They’ll probably mostly be in an arena. And you’ll be there.”

  She nodded, but said, “They’ll be taking some trail rides the second week.”

  “Huh.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Can you go along?”

  “It may look a little odd, but I’ll insist.”

  “Uh...do you know how to ride a horse?”

  “I’ve done it before.” Twenty years ago, but she couldn’t imagine they’d be galloping. She could sit on a placid horse for hire plodding along behind others. “Somebody could still take a shot at Liana.”

  The way he was watching her, she wondered if he was thinking, Or at you. But, of course, an outsider would have no way of guessing she mattered much to Alec.

  If she did.

  No, she knew she did, even if it wasn’t necessarily the way she wanted.

  “That’s a couple weeks away. I may have answers by then.”

  “All right. But...what do I do with Matt? He’s not going to like any of this.”

  He sighed. “No, he won’t. And...I don’t know. Let me think about it.”

  “I’d better work on dinner.”

  “And I need a shower. Hey.” His expression grew lighter. “You enjoy lunch?”

  “I really like Nell. I think we can be friends. She says I’ll like Cait, too. Oh, and Nell’s friend Hailey, who owns the restaurant we went to, sat with us for a bit. I’m going to invite her to dinner someday. She covets your mother’s recipes.”

  Alec laughed. “Does she? I suspect Mom will be flattered if her food lands on a restaurant menu.”

  She frowned at him in sudden speculation. “You are calling home, aren’t you?”

  For a moment he looked as sheepish as a kid. “Not in a while.”

  “They lost Josh, and you know they love you.”

  “Even if my father’s way of showing it was taking his belt to me?”

  “Even if.”

  He grimaced. “Yeah. I know even Dad loves me. And you’re right.” His mouth quirked. “As always.”

  She smiled. “Stick your head in and talk to Matt on your way out. We’ll see you in about half an hour?”

  “Perfect.” He sniffed. “What are we having?”

  “Pot roast. As I’m sure you could guess.”

  Laughing again, he headed toward the bedroom. Snapping green beans, Julia heard him knock on Matt’s door before opening it.

  Not two minutes later, Alec was back, his expression grim. “Matt’s gone. Out his window. I checked the garage, and his bike’s gone, too.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  LEAVING JULIA TO DO what she could to preserve dinner for later, Alec drove around town. Up one road and down the next, scanning cross streets, searching for one skinny kid on a mountain bike. Anxiety warred with a desire to strangle him.

  The bad news was that Julia and he had talked for quite a while, giving Matt plenty of time for his getaway. The good news was that the shooter or any confederates were unlikely to be watching for this opportunity; they’d surely expect Alec to have placed a guard on the kids.

  Assuming, of course, that the shot hadn’t been intended to kill him instead.

  Alec kept his phone sitting on the seat beside him. He checked in with Julia a couple of times. No Matt.

  In two-plus hours, he had plenty of time to swing between guilt—he shouldn’t have sent Matt to his room like a naughty little boy—and fury at the kid’s stupidity as well as his willingness to scare the crap out of his mother. Alec didn’t want to think Matt derived pleasure from that aspect of his escape, but had to suspect he did.

  He was about to give up the search as a lost cause when his phone rang. Julia.

  Pulling to the curb, he snatched up the phone. “He’s home?”

  “No.” Her voice was oddly flat. “Alec, he’s been arrested. He was allowed one call from the store where they caught him. Not just shoplifting, but filling his pack with stuff. I spoke to an Officer Wilson.”

  Jim Wilson was a stolid, competent officer with no apparent ambition to rise beyond patrol. Had Matt told him who his uncle was? Probably.

  “In other words, he set out to hit us both where it hurts.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to deal with it, or shall I?”

  “Which would you prefer?” she asked.

  “I may be hard on him, but I’d rather handle it if you’ll back me.”

  Her hesitation was brief. “Go for it. Nothing I’ve tried has done any good.”

  “All right. I’ll let you know what happens.”

  The drive to the corner grocery store where Matt was being held didn’t take long. A squad car still sat out front, he was glad to see.

  When Alec walked in, an older, balding man was behind the counter. Alec nodded and said, “I’m here for the boy.”

  The guy’s expression darkened. “Father?”

  “Uncle.”

  “Officer�
�s got him in the back room.”

  “Thanks.” Alec went down the center aisle and saw a door marked Employees Only. He knocked before going in.

  Square, middle-aged, with salt-and-pepper hair, Jim Wilson half sat on a scarred oak desk, one leg braced on the floor. He faced Matt, who looked even smaller than usual, dwarfed by the big, rolling oak desk chair he sat on. His feet didn’t come close to touching the floor and his head was hanging until he flashed one look up at Alec. It brimmed with so much anger, Alec could barely see the fear.

  Wilson didn’t look surprised to see him, which meant Matt had told him Uncle Alec was the police chief. Probably with malicious glee.

  “Chief,” he said. “Figured you’d want to take the boy home.”

  “Tell me what happened,” Alec said without looking again at Matt.

  Wilson did. He’d responded to the usual call. The store owner had seen the kid stuff a bag of candy in his backpack. When he yelled, “Hey!” the boy bolted. The proprietor had been able to grab him before he made it out the door.

  “He says when it’s something like a candy bar or a soda, he calls the parents. But this time, when he looked, he found the pack almost full. Said he’d had a run of business and hadn’t been paying as much attention as he usually would to a lone kid. Take a look.” The officer nodded at Matt’s pack, sitting on the desk.

  Alec stepped closer and did. Hell. It was stuffed. He poked inside. There was a liter of soda, but also a six-pack of beer. Chips, candy bars, a bag of gumdrops and a tin of chewing tobacco. Really? he thought in disbelief. Even more disturbing was the package of condoms. Did Matt imagine he had a use for them, or was he intending to give them away in an attempt to win friendship from whatever older boys had given him the marijuana?

  Alec grunted. “Take him in. Charge him. He needs to go to juvie.”

  Matt’s head shot up. “What?”

  “You sure?” Gary Wilson asked.

  “I’m sure.” Alec gave his nephew a stony look. “I’ll see him there in the morning.”

  As he walked out, Matt was screaming, “You can’t do that!” to his back.

  * * *

  JULIA FLINCHED WHEN he got back to her place and told her what he’d done.