Authors: Liz Lee
“It’s okay, Riley. They’re watching the house.” She pointed to the car and Riley grumbled something unintelligible and then, “Yeah. They were watching the diner too, but the man who left you that note wasn’t a Fed, and he disappeared who knows where. I’m checking the house.”
And into the inky blackness he went.
She should’ve left a light on, but she hadn’t even thought about it. She hadn’t thought about much more than how cold the dog walker’s eyes were. Now she was supposed to believe the man with those eyes was here to help her.
She closed her eyes in confusion, then wrapped her arms around her middle, suddenly cold as she waited. “Riley, are you okay?” She whispered the words, but he didn’t answer. Why had she left the gun in his truck? She heard Riley’s soft footfalls around the house. Thought she heard the shower curtain sliding.
And then he was there. Safe. Relief flooded through her and she stepped inside. “I told you it was fine.”
But then she looked around the house and saw the little inconsistencies. The messed up curtains, a magazine stacked on top of another, an open cabinet door, and she knew. “Someone’s been in my house, Riley. They were looking for something.”
Riley followed her gaze then nodded, frowned. Damn, she sounded scared. This tough woman who’d stalked out the lake cabin’s front door with a gun, telling the dog walker who was supposed to protect her to meet them back in Burkette was afraid. Again.
“Probably the Feds,” he said, trying to give comfort.
She looked around again. Tilted her head. “No. Maybe. I don’t think so. There’s this ominous feeling. An almost oppression. The people here weren’t being helpful. They meant harm.”
It only made sense that she’d feel an ominous presence after her day. After the revelations about her past. “Callah, Babe, you’ve been through hell,” he said touching her shoulder, trying to reassure her.
The stubborn tilt of her chin back, she narrowed her eyes. “Don’t patronize me Riley. And don’t call me Babe.”
Ah geez. He thought they were past this. “Look, I see you’re scared. Angry. And I understand that. Do you want me to go ask the guys outside? No one’s here now. They can come in, check and make sure nothing’s missing if it will make you feel better.”
She shook her head and wrapped her arms around her waist. “No. You’re right. No one’s here now. I’m sorry. I just…”
He wanted to hold her, to tell her it would be okay. But he could see the wall she’d built and knew now was not the time. “It’s okay, Callah. Really.”
She laughed, only it sounded more like a cry. “No it’s not. I’m not sure it’ll ever be okay again. But I do want to know if the agents were the ones in here. If it was them, not
her
, maybe I can rest.”
Her
. Olivia Duncan. Riley couldn’t make that awful truth go away, but he could help her have peace tonight. Callah followed him out the door, and a few seconds later they had their answers. The agents had walked through the house, and they’d done a simple search to make sure Riley was who they thought and not some kink they hadn’t planned on.
Callah noticed Riley didn’t volunteer the information about the man at the diner and she agreed. The man hadn’t seemed menacing. And
be careful
wasn’t exactly a threat to anyone’s life.
They walked back into the house and this time the noticeable changes seemed less threatening, more of a nuisance. Still Callah couldn’t shake the faint ominous presence.
The flirting from earlier seemed a forgotten memory. She couldn’t help mourning its loss. For all of thirty minutes she’d been a different kind of woman. Not poor, sweet Callah. But someone brave and daring and sexy. And dammit, it had been fun. In the midst of the chaos, the lies, the death threats, the stories, she’d almost found the person she’d always wanted to be.
“What’re you thinking?”
Callah jumped at Riley’s voice, then grabbed a sweater off her dresser and slipped it on. Her own sort of armor. She almost laughed at herself because she could think about being that brave woman any day, but actually doing it was another thing altogether. “Nothing. Just everything’s different. Crazy.”
He stepped toward her, pulled her to his chest and she rested against him as she inhaled his spicy maleness. His safety. “It’s going to be okay, Callah.” His voice rumbled from his chest against her ear.
“Sure it will,” she said, even though she knew the words were all lies. “Tomorrow everything will be fine. My dad will explain. And we’ll see this is all a huge mistake.”
He didn’t say anything, and she knew what he was thinking. That there’s no way those pictures were wrong. That the agents knew too much for this to be a mistake. That the little girl sitting in that photo and she were one and the same, and no explanation in the world would make that go away.
“I’m really tired, Riley. I know I asked you….”
He brushed his index finger across her lips. “Shhh.”
She wanted to make excuses, to beg him not to leave her, but she couldn’t seem to say anything.
“Today’s been pretty wicked. We’ve got tomorrow. Or the next day. Or even the next. I’m not going anywhere.”
She stepped away, looked at his face, saw the seriousness there and knew he meant it. She wasn’t in this alone unless she wanted to be.
“You’re a good man, Riley Sorenson.”
He shook his head. “Don’t go believing that, Callah. Don’t go believing it for a second. Because the truth is I’d make love to you in a heartbeat if I thought I’d have you with me one hundred percent. I’m not doing this half way, and right now you’re wiped out. Besides the adrenaline rush from writing the story is wearing off me. I couldn’t do either of us justice. So your I’m tired is my perfect excuse.” And then cupping her chin, he tilted her head up, touched her lips softly with his.
Her toes curled as she tasted the faintest bit of peppermint left over from the diner. Her pulse thrummed, and her blood rushed as her insides clenched. She ran her hands through his soft hair, deepened the kiss, and pressed closer to him.
When he stepped away and winked, she had to grip her hands in tiny fists at her sides to keep from dragging him back into her room to show her just exactly what kind of bad boy he was.
“I’ll be on the couch.”
Somehow she found her voice. “I don’t remember saying you could stay on the couch.”
He laughed. “Honey, you practically handed me an engraved invitation. I’m not going anywhere. And quit looking at me like that or I’m going to forget all about us being tired.”
She was tempted. God, she was tempted. To tell him forget tired. To tell him to take her to bed and make her remember what it meant to be alive and in lust.
But then she saw the dark circles under his eyes and knew he was right. Now wasn’t the time. So she pushed him out her bedroom door. “The sheets are in the closet at the end of the hall. Good night.”
Riley let his shirt fall to the floor, lay on the sheet-covered couch and tried to find sleep, but it proved elusive.
Maybe it was the knowledge that on the other side of the front door agent dog walker McBride, major screw up, was supposed to be watching out for Callah. Keeping her safe from the evil out there. Riley wasn’t stupid. Evil definitely existed.
Judging by the story he’d heard tonight, Callah’s evil could very well be the mother she didn’t know and the man who’d called himself her father. But there was the other evil too. Not the pure darkness. The gray. Finding the gray was key to this case. He was sure of it. The man at the diner tonight might hold that key.
He jumped up, pushed the front curtain aside and peeked out the window, saw the shadow in the car across the street.
Damn.
He needed sleep. But it wasn’t happening. Not yet. Not now. What he wanted to do was go back to Callah’s bedroom, strip her bare and help her forget all her troubles, but that wasn’t an option. Because Callah looked like she was about to fall asleep on her feet. No matter how much he burned for her, he had to back away for now. Give her space. Because if they gave in to their desire now, she’d be using him to forget the current hell she was in the middle of, and suddenly, that wasn’t enough.
He flipped open his phone as he caught the shadow in the car moving. Looked like the agent was chatting with someone. Would Rand know who?
Riley punched his brother’s number, and Rand picked up on the second ring.
“Jesus, Riley, it’s three in the morning.”
Yeah. Whatever. “I figured you’d be on your way out here. Riding to the rescue like you said earlier.”
“I asked the wrong questions to the right people or I would be big brother. Right now I’m in a pretty precarious position, but it should work itself out in a few hours.”
Must be serious if Rand wasn’t going to take the opportunity to point out once again what a mess Riley’d made of his life, but he knew asking about it was pointless.
“Tell me about Vince McBride.”
“Why? He giving you bad vibes?”
In the glow of the moonlight, Riley could see still McBride talking to someone, could see his tense body language. Possible anger.
“Let’s just say I think something’s off about the man.”
Rand didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and Riley figured he’d stumbled onto something big.
“If this guy’s going to get Callah killed, you better fill me in now, Rand. I’m not going to let that happen.”
“Jesus, you are such an imbecile sometimes, Riley. No way is the FBI going to let a bad agent get someone like Callah killed.”
“I didn’t like your whole thirty seconds of silence.”
“I had to get somewhere I could talk.”
Interesting. He wasn’t alone.
“So talk.”
“Agent McBride told you what he knows. About Callah’s past. Her birth parents. The Crenshaws.”
“Yeah. Complete with pictures. It strikes me as odd that he didn’t ask to see everything in the package that some unknown sent me, and he didn’t have a total fit when he learned I was writing the story. ”
“Yeah. Well, I don’t know what I think about the story.”
He didn’t have time for this. “Tell me about McBride.”
His brother’s sigh sounded across the phone. “Look, Vince worked deep ops. He knew Callah’s birth parents. Worked with them. He’s been searching for Callah and her mother for years, but the case went cold over a decade ago. A couple years ago, he caught a break and tried to get the powers that be interested in re-opening things. For Vince this is personal.”
It didn’t ring true.
“For being so personal, he sure has been lax on this detail. He might just be the worst agent I’ve ever seen.”
“Vince used to be one of the best. His partner’s a good guy.”
“He looks twelve years old.”
“He’s the same age as me, and he joined Vince last week on this assignment. Give him a chance.”
Yeah. Whatever. “Tell me what more you know about Callah.”
Rand blew out a breath, and Riley knew his brother wasn’t going to tell him the truth, at least not the whole truth.
“Come on, Rand. This is life and death.”
“Hell, Riley, I know exactly what this is. All I can tell you for sure is I think Callah’s parents were doing what they thought was right for her.”
“The ones who gave birth or the ones who raised her with lies all these years?”
“Both. And that’s all I can say. So just let it drop now.”
Right. Like that was going to happen, but he could tell Rand wasn’t going to give him anymore either, at least not tonight. “Make the world a safer place, lil’ bro.”
Rand laughed. “You know I will. Don’t get yourself killed on this story, Riley, and don’t start drinking again.”
Always the little reminder of who he’d been, but Rand didn’t have to worry about alcohol. Not now. After this was over, well, that was another matter all together. “It’s not a story, Rand. It’s way bigger than that.”
Another long silence met his words, and then he heard Rand sigh again. “Yeah. That’s what I figured. Just be careful.”
“Back at you.”
And they hung up.
No I love you. That was for damn sure. Because the Sorenson boys weren’t sissies. They didn’t say I love you or I miss you. They didn’t cry. And they damn sure didn’t let their feelings show. They’d been taught that little lesson early on.
Riley threw the phone against the couch and watched it bounce onto the floor with a thunk.
Dammit. He hated being powerless.
Callah woke with cotton-mouth and a killer headache. The scent of fresh brewed coffee did a little to make that better. Then she remembered Riley Sorenson had spent the night on her couch and she couldn’t stop her smile.
Until she remembered exactly why he had stayed.
Hold it together. Hold it together. Hold it together.
She closed her eyes. Told herself she would not cry as she grabbed her robe off the closet hook and wrapped it tight then slipped on her bunny slippers and padded down the hall, determined this would be a better day.
“Morning.” Her voice didn’t sound like her at all.