Читать книгу Expecting Trouble - Delores Fossen - Страница 9

Cal finally spotted her.

Wearing brown pants and a cream-colored cable-knit sweater, Jenna came out of a small family-owned grocery store on Main Street. She had a white plastic sack clutched in each hand. But no baby.

One thing was for sure—she didn’t look as if she’d given birth only three months earlier.

But she did look concerned. Her forehead was bunched up, and her gaze darted all around.

Good. She should be concerned about the lie she’d told. It probably wasn’t a healthy thought to want to yell at a woman. But for the entire hour-long drive from regional headquarters to the little town of Willow Ridge, Texas, he’d played around with it.

She claims the baby is yours.

Director Kowalski’s words pounded like fists in Cal’s head. Powerful words, indeed.

Career-ruining words.

That’s why he had to get this situation straightened out so that it couldn’t do any more damage. Before the end of the week, he was due for a performance review, one that would be forwarded straight to the promotion board. If he had any hopes of making deputy director two years early, there couldn’t even be a hint of negativity in that report.

And there wouldn’t be.

That’s what this visit was all about. One way or another, Jenna was going to tell the truth and clear his name. He’d worked too damn hard to let her take that early promotion away from him.

Cal stepped out of his car, ducked his head against the chilly February wind and strolled across the small parking lot toward her. He figured she was on her way to the apartment she’d rented over the town’s lone bookstore. Judging from the direction she took, he was right.

Even though she kept close to the buildings, she was easy to track. Partly because there weren’t many people out and about and partly because of her hair. Those shiny blond locks dipped several inches past her shoulders. Loose and free. The strands seemed to catch every ray of sun.

That hair would probably cause any man to give her a second look. Her body and face would cause a man to stare. Which was exactly what he was doing.

She must have sensed his eyes on her because she whirled around, her gaze snaring him right away.

“It’s you,” she said, squinting to see him in the harsh late afternoon sun. She sounded a little wary and surprised.

However, Cal’s reactions were solely in the latter category.

First, there were her eyes. That shock of color. So green. So clear. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her eyes when he rescued her in that dimly lit hotel, but he did now. And they were memorable. As was her face. She wore almost no makeup. Just a touch of peachy color on her mouth. She looked natural and sensual at the same time. But the most startling reaction of all was that he wasn’t as angry at her as he had been five minutes before.

Well, until he forced himself to hang on to that particular feeling awhile longer.

“We have to talk,” Cal insisted. And he wasn’t about to let her say no. He took one of her grocery sacks so he could hook his arm through hers.

She looked down at the grip he had on her before she lifted her eyes to meet his. “This is about Paul Tolivar’s business partner, isn’t it? Is Holden Carr the one who’s having me followed?”

That stopped Cal in his tracks. There was a mountain of concern in her voice and expression. Much to his shock, he wasn’t immune to that concern.

He didn’t like this feeling. The sudden need to protect her. This sure as heck wasn’t an ISA-directed mission.

He repeated that to himself. “Someone is following you?” he asked.

She gave a surreptitious glance around, and since their arms were already linked, she maneuvered him into an alley that divided two shops.

“I spotted this man on my walk to the grocery store. He stayed in the shadows so I wasn’t able to get a good look at him.” Her words raced out, practically bleeding together. “Maybe he’s following me, maybe he’s not. And there’s a reporter. Gwen Mitchell. She introduced herself a couple of minutes ago in the produce aisle.”

Cal made note of the name. Once he was done with this little chat, he’d run a background check on this Gwen Mitchell to see if she was legit. “What does she want?”

Jenna dismissed his question with a shrug, though tension was practically radiating from her. The muscles in her arm were tight and knotted. “She claims she’s doing some kind of investigative report on Paul and the rebel situation in Monte de Leon.”

That in itself wasn’t alarming. There were probably lots of reporters doing similar stories because of the renewed investigation. “You don’t believe her?”

“I don’t know. Since the incident in Monte de Leon, I’ve been paranoid. Shadows don’t look like shadows anymore. Hang-up calls seem sinister. Strangers in the grocery line look like rebel soldiers with orders to kill me.” She shook her head. “And I’m sorry for dumping all of this on you. I know I’m not making any sense.”

Unfortunately, she was making perfect sense. Cal had never met Paul’s business partner, the infamous Holden Carr, but from what he’d learned about the man, Holden wasn’t the sort to give up easily. Maybe he wanted to continue his late partner’s quest to get Jenna’s accounting firm and trust fund. Jenna’s firm certainly wasn’t the only one enticing to a potential money launderer, but Holden was familiar with it, and it had all the right foreign outlets to give him a quick turnover for the illegal cash.

Or maybe this was good news, and those shadows were Justice Department agents. Except Director Kowalski hadn’t mentioned anything about her being followed. It was one thing to monitor calls and e-mails, but tailing a person required just cause and a lot of manpower. Since Jenna wasn’t a suspect in a crime, there shouldn’t have been sufficient cause for close surveillance.

And that brought them right back to Holden Carr.

“You’ve heard from Holden recently?” he asked. A lie detector of sorts since he knew from the director’s briefing that she’d been in contact with the man in the past twenty-four hours.

“Oh, I’ve heard from him all right. Lucky me, huh? He’s called a bunch of times, and right after I got back from Monte de Leon, he visited my office in Houston. And get this—he says he’s always been in love with me, that he wants to be part of my life. Right. He’s in love with my estate and accounting firm, and what he really wants is to be part of my death so he can inherit it.” She paused. “Please tell me he’ll be arrested soon.”

“Soon.” But Cal had no idea if that was even true.

“Good. Because as long as he’s a free man, I’m not safe. That’s why I left Houston. I thought maybe if I came here, Holden wouldn’t be able to find me. That he’d stop harassing me. Then yesterday afternoon he called me again, on my new cell phone.” She moistened her lips. And looked away. “He threatened me.”

That didn’t surprise Cal. Holden wouldn’t hesitate to resort to intimidation to get what he wanted. Still, that was a problem for the back burner. He had something more pressing.

“Holden didn’t make an overt threat,” Jenna continued before Cal could speak. “He implied it. It scared me enough to decide that I need professional security. A bodyguard or something. But I don’t know anyone I can trust. I don’t know if the bodyguard I call might really be working for Holden.”

Unfortunately, that was a real possibility. If Holden knew where she was, then he would also know how to get to her.

She paused and blew out a long breath. “Okay, that’s enough about me and my problems. Why are you here?” She conjured a halfhearted smile. “Gosh, that’s a déjà vu kind of question, isn’t it? I remember asking you something similar when you were rescuing me in Monte de Leon. Is that why you’re here now—to rescue me?”

“No.” But why the heck did he suddenly feel as if he wanted to do just that?

From that still panicked look in her eyes, it wasn’t a good time to bring up his anger, but Cal wasn’t about to let her off the hook, either.

“Why did you lie about who your baby’s father is?” he demanded.

Jenna blinked, and then her eyes widened. “How did you know?”

“Well, it wasn’t a lucky guess, that’s for sure. This morning my director called me into his office to demand an explanation as to why I slept with someone in my protective custody.”

“Ohmygod.” Jenna leaned against the wall and pulled in several hard breaths. “I had no idea. How did your director even find out I’d had a baby?”

Because she already had a lot to absorb, Cal skipped right over the Justice Department eavesdropping on her, and gave her a summary of what Director Kowalski had relayed to him. “You told Holden Carr that the baby was mine.”

Jenna nodded, and with her breath now gusting hard and fast, she studied his expression. It was as icy as the Antarctic. “This could get you into trouble, couldn’t it?”

“It’s already gotten me into trouble. Deep trouble. And it could get worse.”

He would have added more, especially the part about Director Kowalski demanding DNA proof that Cal wasn’t the baby’s father. But he caught some movement from the corner of his eye. A thin-faced man in a dark blue two-door car. He drove slowly past them.

“That’s the guy,” Jenna whispered, tugging on the sleeve of Cal’s leather jacket. “He’s the one who followed me to the grocery store.”

The words had hardly left her mouth when the man gunned the engine and sped away. But not before Cal made eye contact with him.

Oh, hell.

Cal recognized him from the intel surveillance photos.

He cursed, dropped the grocery bag and slipped his hand inside his jacket in case he had to draw his gun. “How long did you say he’s been following you?”

Jenna shook her head and looked to be on the verge of panicking. “I think just today. Why? Do you know him? Is he a friend of yours?”

There was way too much hope in her voice.

“Not a friend,” Cal assured her. “But I know of him.” He left it at that. “Where’s your baby?”

“In the apartment. My landlord’s daughter is watching her. Why?”

Cal didn’t answer that. “Come on. We’ll finish this conversation there.”

And once they had finished the discussion about the paternity of her child, he’d move on to some security measures he wanted her to take. Maybe the Justice Department could even provide her with protection or a safe house. He’d call Hollywood and Director Kowalski and put in a request.

Cal tried to get her moving, but Jenna held her ground. “Tell me—who’s that man?”

Okay, so that wasn’t panic in her eyes. It was determination. She wasn’t about to drop this. Not even for a couple of minutes until they could reach her apartment.

“Anthony Salazar,” Cal let her know. “That’s his real name, anyway. He often uses an alias.”

She stared at him. “He works for Holden Carr?”

“He usually just works for the person who’ll pay him the most.” Cal hadn’t intended to pause, but he had to so he could clear his throat. “He’s a hired assassin, Jenna.”