Targeted (Callahan & McLane Book 4) (22 page)

27

O
nce a week Ava allowed herself a whole milk, sugary, syrupy coffee drink. Every other day she stuck with black coffee. As she pushed open the door from her usual coffee shop, she took a sip of her pumpkin spice latte and every nerve receptor in her mouth sighed in happiness. Now today felt like Halloween.

The employees had dressed up for the holiday. Iron Man had taken her order and a sexy nurse had made her latte. Somehow it’d made her drink taste even better, and she’d needed the jolt of sugar and caffeine after her late night. Mason had stayed up with her, talking about Zander. Ava had held back tears as she told him about his wife and baby.

“I knew something horrible had happened to his wife,” Mason had said. “But a baby, too? I can’t imagine.”

“I wonder if he’ll want more children,” Ava speculated. “I don’t think he’s forty yet.”

Mason shook his head. “That’s a hard one to answer. I’m glad I’m done.”

Her heart had cracked at his answer. It was a subject they’d touched a few times, and she’d been positive that kids weren’t for her.

But now she wondered if she was misleading him.

Am I?

She still didn’t know.

Lost in thought, she glanced up as two men blocked her path. She froze as she recognized her stalker, David.

She dropped her coffee and reached for the weapon in her bag. “Don’t move,” she ordered, stepping backward. A dozen scenarios flashed in her head as she realized she’d never get her gun out in time.
Foot to his crotch. Elbow to his throat. Run!

“Ava, wait! I didn’t mean to startle you,” David pleaded.

“Special Agent McLane,” stated the other man, pulling out a wallet. “I’m a private investigator in the state of Oregon.”

She froze, eyeing the second man. He was shorter than David and dark-skinned, with graying hair. Something about his body language said
cop
in her head.

“Who are you?” she asked sharply. “Both of you?”

The shorter man held out his identification. “My license is right there. My name’s Glen Raney and I retired from the Gresham Police Department ten years ago. David Dressler is my client.”

She glanced at his license. It meant nothing to her; she didn’t know what a PI’s license looked like and really didn’t care. She studied the way the PI held himself and believed he’d been in law enforcement. She looked at David, whose eyes pleaded with her not to run.

David Dressler. I don’t know you from Adam.

“Why are you following me?” she demanded.

David’s shoulders slumped. “I shouldn’t have approached you so often. I couldn’t help myself.”

“You’re not helping your situation. Start talking.”

David looked at the PI, who shrugged. “This is what you wanted, right?” Glen said to David. “Here’s your chance.” He bent over and picked up the coffee cup Ava had dropped and tossed the dripping mess in the garbage.

“We’re looking for Jayne,” David began.

“I knew it. She owes you money, doesn’t she?” Anger burned through her. “She doesn’t have any money and you’re barking up the wrong tree if you think you’re going to get anything from me. I barely know who she is.”

David’s face fell, and she was pleased. He could go to hell for unnerving her. “Anyone who loans her money needs their head examined,” she told the men. “Trust me. I’ve been there.”

David looked at her, and she saw the pain radiating from his gaze. “What did she do to you?” she whispered.

If he got his heart broken
. . .

Jeez, Jayne.
Disgust rolled through her. Nothing stopped her sister when she had a conquest in sight. Age. Marriage.

“You look like your mother,” David said softly.

Ava’s world tilted and her knees shook. “You knew my mother?”

“Very well.” He held her gaze.

Jayne’s eyes looked back at her. Her own eyes.

No.

She blinked several times and the resemblance faded. But it didn’t disappear.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

“I’m pretty sure I’m your father.”

“No.” She shook her head. “That’s not possible. No,” she repeated. “What do you want from me? Just because I work for the FBI doesn’t mean I can help you with something.” Her brain shot ahead in leaps and bounds as her tongue formed words she had no control over. “Our father left before we were born. He didn’t want anything to do with us or our mother.”

His mouth turned down, and Ava caught her breath at its resemblance to Jayne’s.

She looked at the PI, wanting him to tell her David Dressler was full of crap. Glen Raney nodded at her. “My client is willing to take whatever test you want to verify he’s your and your twin’s father. I’ve seen the letters your mother sent him before she left. I tracked down your birth certificates—you know she changed her name after she broke it off with my client, right?”

“No.”
I don’t believe him.
“We’re not who you’re looking for,” she said to Glen, unable to look at David again. “My mother was born McLane. If you think she changed her name, then you’re wasting your time talking to me.” Relief swept through her.
He’s got the wrong people.

“I lived on McLane Street when I knew your mother,” said David. “I think that she selected it to be your new last name says a lot.”

“She’s always been McLane,” Ava repeated.

“No, it was originally Ryder.”

Colleen Ryder?
Ava shook her head. “You’re wrong. She had no reason to change her name.”

“What did she tell you girls about her own parents?” Glen asked gently. “That they’d died before you were born?”

Ava couldn’t feel her hands or feet. “Yes.”

“Did you ever look for records of them or your mother?” Glen asked. “I know you have access to a lot of databanks.”

“I never felt the need,” she whispered. How many times had she started to look and stopped?

“Let’s sit down,” Glen suggested. Ava blindly followed him and David to an outdoor table under the eaves.

What is happening?

Glen handed her a business card, and she stared at it without comprehension. “David hired me last summer. He’d been in Portland and seen your face in the local newspaper after you were . . . injured. You look a lot like your mother, you know.”

Ava nodded silently. She’d known there’d been media coverage of her near-deadly encounter with the mastermind of the mass shootings in the Portland area last summer. But she’d been too ill to care.

“He hired me to find out if you were his daughter. All he had for me to start with was your mother’s original name, your name from the paper, and a guess of when she’d given birth.”

Ava looked at David. “She told us you didn’t want anything to do with us.” Glen’s part of the story sounded plausible, but she didn’t believe David.

“I was married. I’m not proud of it.” His eye contact was strong, his face solemn. “Your mother called it quits and let me know two weeks later that she was pregnant. She said she didn’t need anything from me but wanted to let me know. I think it was her way of twisting the knife a little bit. I hadn’t told her I was married when we started seeing each other.”

“You were a cheating asshole,” Ava snapped.

“I was.” He took a deep breath. “Then she vanished. She left town within days and never contacted me again. I always wondered if she’d lied about the pregnancy. I searched for her a time or two but never found anything.”

“Where do you live?” Ava asked.

“San Diego. Glen managed to track her to Northern California once I gave him your name.”

“You initiated a search based on seeing me in the paper?”

He gave a half smile. “A one in a million chance, wasn’t it? It was easy to find out more information about you. But then Glen stumbled over the fact that Colleen gave birth to twin girls. Your sister has been harder to track down.”

“Her records on the Internet and in various databanks are much different than yours,” Glen said delicately.

“That’s because she’s a drug addict,” Ava said shortly.

“I gathered that,” answered Glen. “But I couldn’t find a current residence. I just found out about the treatment center yesterday. Before that, the most current mention I’d found was an announcement about an art show. I passed that on to David, assuming she’d show up.”

“Instead I met you.” David smiled, a pleased look in his eyes.

“Wait a minute.” Ava placed her hands on the table and stood. She wanted to slap the smile off David’s face. “This isn’t a happy family reunion.
I don’t know you
and I don’t plan to get to know you. My mother left you behind and it sounds like she had a good reason. I don’t need to know my roots,” she lied. “You creeped me the fuck out by showing up everywhere I went, and why the hell were you at a
murder scene
?” She’d planted her hands on the table to hide their shaking, but every muscle quivered under her skin.

“That was on me,” said Glen. “I keep my finger on what’s going on with my old department. When I found out the FBI had an interest in the case and you were one of the assigned agents, I let David know. I didn’t know he’d actually go to the scene.” He glared at David. “I just thought he’d like to know what sort of work you did.”

“I’m done here,” Ava said, adjusting the strap of her purse on her shoulder. “Stay away from me and my sister. Even if you are our father, we don’t need this sort of fucked-up-ness in our lives right now.”

She pushed in her chair and turned away, her feet shaking in her boots. She spotted the brown puddle from her latte and debated buying another.

What I really want is wine.

“Ava,” called David’s voice from behind her. “Glen tracked where Jayne went when she left the treatment center.”

“Callahan.”

Mason knew by the tone of Nora’s voice that some shit had hit the fan. He halted in the hallway outside the detectives’ corral and waited for her to catch up. Her face was grim.

“What happened?” he asked.
Who ratted me out?

“I just spent a few pleasant moments with the assistant chief.”

Aw crap.
“No moments with him are pleasant.”

“No they’re not. He got a call from a reporter who wanted to know why a witness was working on the task force to solve these murders. They’d seen you at the Fujioka scene. I just lied through my teeth, saying that you’d simply accompanied the FBI agents because they’d been interviewing you when the call came in.”

“Shit. I don’t think he knows anything about my personal life, right?”

“If you mean does he know you’re engaged to the investigating FBI agent, no.” She put her hands on her hips, staring him down. “This might come back to bite me in the ass. My career is over if he finds out that I let you prance all around this investigation.”

She’s not kidding.

“I know. I appreciate it and I owe you a big one.”

“I’m calling in that favor right now. You’re to stay away from all aspects of this case from now on. I’ve got no one to blame but myself for letting you poke your nose around, but I just stared into my commander’s eyes and lied. So I’m done. I’m not doing that again.”

Mason stared at her, feeling his access to Denny’s killer slip out of his hands. “Wait—”

“No
wait
! There’s nothing else to be discussed. I shouldn’t have let you in and you know it. Your only role in this case is as a witness.
Nothing else.
” She gave him a penetrating stare. “And if you think you’re going to use Ava to get close to this case I’ll get her replaced.”

He started to reply and closed his mouth. He’d pushed too far. He’d taken advantage of Nora Hawes and he didn’t have any right to continue. “I’m fully aware what you did for me, Nora. I won’t forget it.”

“If I need a couch to sleep on because I’ve lost my job, you’ll be the first person I call.”

“I’ll loan you my own pillow. It’s a Tempur-Pedic.”

She wrinkled her nose. “What am I? An old woman? I don’t need one of those concrete pillows.”

“Yet.”

“Go back to your desk and stay away from my cases,” ordered Nora. “If I find out anything new, you’ll hear.”

“Have you heard back from Scott Heuser yet? He was supposed to tell us who mentored Micah Zuch.”

“Did we
not
just have a conversation about how you’re off this case?” She looked ready to knock his head against the wall.

“You just said you’d let me know if you found out anything new. Did the director of Cops 4 Kidz get us the
new
information?”

“No. We haven’t heard from him.”

Mason considered his next words very carefully. “I missed the last Cops 4 Kidz board meeting. I should go pick up my copy of the minutes.”

“They don’t email those?” Nora asked with heavy sarcasm.

“I heard their email was malfunctioning.”

“Uh-huh.” She chewed on her lower lip, studying him.

He wanted to squirm. “Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered.

“Then stay out of my sight.”

“I’m going.” He turned and headed for the exit.