by Liz Lee
And yet, she couldn’t drag her eyes away from the photo of the smiling family. The man and woman so obviously in love. The little girl sitting between them, her thumb in her mouth, her blonde ringlets falling to her shoulders.
The little girl in the picture was her.
She’d seen a million photos of herself at that same age. Never had she seen the other people in the pictures. Never before this day.
Riley covered her hand with his, and she yanked away. “Stop it.” She looked at him and tried to be outraged that he was trying to comfort her. He’d started this entire mess when he’d called this morning with his outrageous story.
The agents watched her with eyes that looked practiced in this sort of thing. She focused on McBride. This man was lying. He had to be.
“Who are you? Why have you been following me around? Her heart pounded in her ears and her hands shook as badly as her voice, but she wanted answers. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were right away? You talked to my ex-husband a long time ago. I saw you.”
Agent McBride acknowledged the truth of that statement with a nod of his head. “Yes, Ma’am. We thought it best to watch, to wait and see…”
“Wait and see what?”
“Your birth mother may still be alive. If she is, we hoped she would come forward. We’re unsure what exactly her involvement was in the murder. She could be a victim or an active participant.”
Callah didn’t know the woman in the photo, but what they were accusing her father of, “You’re wrong about my dad. He would never….” Her voice trailed off as she realized she wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
Agent Conroy took over. “You need to be prepared, Ms. Crenshaw. Olivia Duncan could make contact with you now. Her training….”
Agent McBride interrupted. “Olivia Duncan was a top-level field agent. Suffice it to say she could be very dangerous.”
“I don’t know these people. What could she possibly want from me?”
“Ma’am, that’s why we’re here now,” McBride said. “There must be a reason your ex-husband was killed. Something shifted in the last year and a half. Something that could lead to you.”
Callah shook her head in disbelief. “You’re wrong. You have to be.”
“We’ve been searching for her, and you, for twenty-seven years, Ms. Crenshaw.”
“No.” Callah scooted the photo across the table.
“Ma’am,” Agent Conroy looked apologetic as he spoke. “I’m sorry. But you’re in danger, and denial isn’t going to change that fact.”
She laughed and shook her head. “You’re kidding me right? You come here to tell me that this woman, this Olivia Duncan, my natural mother, might be after me. That my life is a lie, and that I’m in danger. And I’m supposed to just accept it all like it’s some kind of Christmas present.”
“No ma’am.” The agent agreed with her and that just pissed her off.
She swallowed her frustration. This was a puzzle. That’s all. These people and their story were simply pieces to that puzzle. “Is my father aware that we’re having this discussion?”
Agent Conroy nodded. “Yes ma’am. The Colonel is fully aware that you now know the truth.”
“Can I talk to him?” The question was whispered, and it took every ounce of will she had not to cry.
“Ma’am, the Colonel is still being interrogated at this time. After that, his lawyers will be contacting you to set up a time for visitation.”
“You should be aware that anything you say to him will be recorded and could be used against him at trial,” McBride added. “I’m sure Washington will want you to speak with Colonel Crenshaw soon.”
She wanted to break down. To tell these agents to go to hell and take their stupid story with them.
Agent Conroy cleared his throat as he looked from her to Riley and back. “Ma’am, we’d like you to keep this story under wraps.”
She shook her head, thankful for the first time that Riley was a reporter. “Not possible. I’m done with the secrets.”
“Yes, Ma’am. We understand and even empathize…”
“You can’t possibly understand. Riley’s writing a story. It’ll be in tomorrow’s paper.” Her voice was a whisper, and she swallowed the hurt that threatened to break loose.
“Ma’am, you need to understand we’re authorized to take you into protective custody. This is a matter of National security. We could have arrested you at the lake house, but we chose not to. That can change.”
Oh God, she didn’t want to go to jail.
Riley walked from behind her chair, made a case for running the story. “I’ll give facts only. I don’t even have to mention this. If you’re right about Olivia Duncan, the story could draw her out.” He pointed to the photos on the table, and Callah closed her eyes. He was just doing his job. It shouldn’t hurt so bad.
When she opened her eyes, the agents were in a heated discussion. Finally, they agreed to Riley’s conditions. She told herself the victorious look on his face was about her, not the story.
“If Olivia Duncan contacts you for any reason, you need to let us know,” McBride said.
Callah just nodded because what more could she do?
Then both agents stood. Agent Conroy started to hold out his hand, thought better of it and settled for words. “Thank you, ma’am. We’ll be watching your house. For now, we believe it best for you to go home. Try to live as normal a life as possible.”
What a joke. Callah bit back the words, and within a few moments they were gone. The only reminders of their presence the family photo they’d left on the table.
The family photo of her with strangers. Her parents. One dead, one missing. And a little girl she recognized as herself but didn’t know at all.
Chapter Eight
Riley watched the agents leave and narrowed his eyes. Something wasn’t right. He’d seen it as they looked at each other while telling her about Olivia and David Duncan and then again when they agreed to let him write the story.
No way would they have let him write this if everything they said was true. Which meant more secrets. And that meant Callah was in even more danger now.
If he couldn’t trust the good guys, who could he trust?
Of course, he knew the answer to that one. Learned it at an early age. The only person you ever really trusted was yourself. Made life a much more simple process.
He thought about brushing Callah’s hair back, but he didn’t dare touch her. The flashes of anger she’d shown so far spoke volumes. The agents might have delivered the bad news, but in her mind he was very much complicit in this mess.
He didn’t know what to say. Somehow are you okay didn’t fit. Besides, he knew the answer to that one. Hell no, she wasn’t. She wasn’t ever going to be okay again.
“Quit looking at me like that, Riley.”
Here we go. He didn’t care. He’d be her punching bag if that’s what it took. “Like what?”
“Like I’m going to break. I won’t, you know. You’ve got a story to write. Get to it.” She turned away then, and he knew she was hiding. Hiding her pain. Her fear. Her anger.
And that was okay.
Because he might be able to keep her safe with this story, but her feelings were hers to deal with. As much as he wanted to hold her, to make everything okay with a hot kiss or twenty, the truth was, he couldn’t. She was getting to him. And he couldn’t let that happen. He’d buried that part of him years ago, and he wasn’t willing to dig it out now. Not even for Callah.
He’d do what he could to keep her safe. End of story.
A couple hours later Riley submitted the story to Mack, told him to call if it needed changes.
Callah left the photo of her family on the table, chunked the Diet Coke can in the trash. And even though they were both exhausted, he couldn’t just take her home.
“There’s a diner around the corner. Serves the best hot chocolate in the state.”
It was probably still ninety degrees outside in the early morning su
mmer air, but if ever a situation called for chocolate, this was it.
She laughed only it came out sounding like a cry and he wanted to hold her, make the bad thoughts go away, make the fear disappear. Something. Anything.
He stepped forward to take her into his arms, but she pulled back, rigid, and met his eyes with a small smile.
“That sounds like a good idea. I think I am hungry.”
Relief. Now that they were back in Burkette, he didn’t think he could tackle big emotions. But hunger he could fix. The clock on the wall read one in the morning.
He grabbed the discarded photo and put it in the envelope he’d been carrying all day and started to guide her out of the room. And as he followed her out of the room, he wondered who was behind that mystery.
In the end, he didn’t figure it mattered. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to Callah.
Not now.
Who am I?
The question kept bombarding Callah as she walked through the parking lot next to Riley. As she climbed in his truck.
Riley pulled in the parking lot to the all-night diner and suddenly she just wanted to skip it. When they got to her house, they could log on the Internet. See what else they could discover. See what news was already hitting the networks.
She needed answers.
“I bet I have sandwich stuff at home.”
Riley acted like he didn’t hear her as he stepped out of the truck and opened her door.
“Come on Callah. Let’s just sit and decompress for a few minutes. You need some time to process. And I know you’re hungry.”
Okay. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt. She climbed out of the truck and walked beside him. Slow and easy. Calm. Strange. Just a guy and girl going to a late, late dinner. No one chasing them. At least no one they could see.
He opened the glass door and a bell jingled above their heads as he headed to a corner booth.
A woman with big blonde hair, bright red lipstick and a pink and white striped uniform welcomed them with a “Howdy y’all.” And then she realized who’d walked in the diner. With a loud yelp, she ran over to them, grabbed Riley’s arm and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Riley Sorenson, you devil.”
Riley laughed and kissed the waitress right back. “Glenda, you are a sight for sore eyes. This is Callah Crenshaw. She’s old time, but she’s been gone a while. We’re going to pick up a bite to eat.”
“Sure, I remember Callah. Seems like you were both teenagers just the other day.”
A million questions shot across Glenda’s face. Thankfully, she decided not to ask them.
Callah scooted into the red vinyl booth and expected Riley to sit across from her. Instead he scooted in next to her, and she tried to ignore the way his jeans clad knee brushed against her leg, but it was no use.
She’d just scooted as far away from him as she could when Glenda showed up to take their drink orders. Riley ordered water and she ordered her hot chocolate, then Glenda left and finally they were alone.
Just them, Clint Black on the jukebox, a man with silver hair and a handlebar mustache at the diner bar drinking coffee and minding his own business.
Good.
The last thing in the world she wanted was someone minding her business. Or worse, someone breaking the news that oh yeah, there’s one more thing you need to know.
She wanted to cry that none of this was fair, but then, she’d learned over the last year that a lot of life wasn’t fair. Life didn’t care much for that word.
A flash of light outside grabbed her attention and she wondered if the agents were out there now. Waiting. Watching. Or if it was some new batch of reporters, ready to plaster her face all over yet again.
She shuddered, held herself tight. She would not break down. “How many people do you figure are out there watching us now?”
Riley shrugged. “I’m sure the agents will keep you safe, Callah.”
She nodded as Glenda slid their drinks onto the table, then ordered a tatertots with cheese when Riley asked what she wanted to eat. Might as well go full blast fried food.
Riley ordered a grilled cheese sandwich and included a wink for Glenda. Everything seemed so normal. Everything except the fear coursing through her at every little noise.
“You want to talk?” Riley’s voice was low and soothing. But she had to think about his words. Did she want to talk? Good question.
“I don’t know, Riley. Are you asking because you want to know or because it’ll be good for your next story?”
He didn’t even try to defend himself. “I’m not going to lie to you, Callah. You know I’m a reporter and you know I’m going to write more stories about this situation. But I wasn’t asking as a reporter.”
Earlier today she’d said he was one of the most honest people she knew. That was still true, but while she definitely wanted to talk, she also wanted to forget all about it. To sit and drink her hot chocolate in peace and pretend this was a date like any other date. To pretend she wasn’t going to face the man she’d thought of as her father soon and ask questions she‘d never even dreamed of.
So she asked the questions only Riley could answer. The ones guaranteed to take her mind off the mess of the last twenty-four hours.
“Why’d you kick me out of your bed that first time twelve years ago and why’d you change your mind the next day?”
Riley choked on his water. Her laugh was soft and sweet as it rang across the nearly empty diner.
When he’d suggested talking, this wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. “You really want to go there?”
She nodded. “I wondered for a long time. Tried to figure out what it was about me that made you different. Do I have protect me written across my forehead or something?”
Not exactly. Riley wasn’t sure how to answer her question. He could tell her the truth. Or he could pretend.
“It was a long time ago, Callah.”
She nodded. “Yeah, it was. But for that one month, I was someone different. I liked that someone until you pushed me away.”
Riley was spared answering immediately when Glenda dropped off their orders. Once they were alone he watched Callah pop a tatertot in her mouth and figured she deserved the truth. He just wasn’t sure he could tell it the right way.
His dad was harping again. School. Grades. Clothes. His room. His job. Whatever he could focus on. Always negative. Always.
Riley let the words bounce off him. No sense arguing with a man who wouldn’t even listen.
Eighteen. Clueless. He had no idea what he wanted out of life. His old man kept asking, but it didn’t make a difference. It couldn’t change the way he felt. The emptiness he saw when he thought about the future.
“Your Momma’s sick, Son, and you’re nothing but a disappointment….”
Tired of hearing the same old you’re nothing but a disappointment nonsense he’d been listening to the last three years, Riley grabbed the keys to his bike and took off out the door.
The cloudless night was warm and humid. They’d predicted rain, and off in the distance, he could see a building storm light up the sky. But it was hours away. Maybe he’d ride to the storm. It matched his emotions.
He turned onto the dirt road that would take him to the school or to the lake depending on which direction he chose.
And there in the distance he saw her.
Callah Crenshaw.
Ethereal in her long white dress. Her blonde hair pulled on top of her head, long curls arranged around her head in a crown with a sparkly tiara resting atop it all.
He pulled the motorcycle up next to her and stopped.
“Going somewhere?”
She narrowed her eyes at him as if he’d suggested something entirely inappropriate.
“No. I’m out here walking down a dirt road in high heels and a prom dress and I’m not going anywhere. You should just mind your own business.”
He thought about doing just that. Callah Crenshaw wasn’t a friend. She wasn’t even an acquaintance. Sh
e was one of the group of kids on campus who made it their business to be better than everyone else.
But common sense and a sudden bout of chivalry stopped him.
You never knew what might happen around here, and Callah had never treated him with anything other than common courtesy. She wasn’t like the others.
“Hey, if you need a ride, I’m your man.”
She laughed. “I just bet.”
He shrugged. If she was going to be rude, he wasn’t going to hang around. He started the bike and prepared to leave but something in her eyes stopped him.
In that second something changed. He didn’t know what exactly. He only knew the normal wariness was gone.
“You change your mind?”
For the longest time she didn’t say a word. And then she did. “Yeah. I think I have.”
They spent the night riding around the lake laughing, sitting on a picnic table watching bugs on the water, talking about what they wanted out of life and where they were going.
Away tended to be the common theme. She wanted fame and fortune in California, he just wanted to escape. And then he’d ruined everything by asking her the question he’d been wondering all day.
“You going to tell me why you were walking down the road in your prom dress instead of dancing the night away.”
She looked at the dirt under the bench and then shrugged. “I don’t think I’m going to.”
He waited while she sat there watching him and he knew. Suddenly, inexplicably, he knew.
“Let me guess. Your hot shot boyfriend left you there.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Hardly. I left him.” She stopped talking when he smiled at her.
“How come?”
She shrugged. “He wasn’t interested in dancing at the prom with a party on the Hill. So I danced and he partied. And then I left.”
“He was looking for some hot prom night sex, huh?”
“He was looking for something all right.”
“You looked pretty ticked when I found you, but not all that sad.”
She shrugged. “I don’t care what he does or with whom. I just know who it’s not going to be with.”
“You afraid?”
She took offense. “Hardly.”
