Читать книгу Expecting Trouble - Delores Fossen, Delores Fossen - Страница 9

Jenna was glad the exterior wall of the café was there to support her, or her legs might have given way.

First, there was Cal’s out-of-the-blue visit to deal with.

Then the news that he knew about the lie she’d told.

And now this.

“An assassin?” she repeated.

Somehow she managed to say aloud the two little words that had sent her world spinning out of control—again. She’d had a lot of that lately and was more than ready for it to stop.

Cal cursed under his breath. He picked up the grocery bag he’d dropped and then slipped his arm around her waist.

Jenna thought of her baby. Of Sophie. She couldn’t let that assassin get anywhere near her daughter.

She started to break into a run, but Cal maneuvered her off the sidewalk and behind the café. They walked quickly into the alley that ran the entire length of Main Street. So they’d be out of sight.

“You didn’t know that guy was here?” she asked as they hurried.

“No.”

That meant Cal had come to confront her about naming him as Sophie’s father. That alone was a powerful reason for a visit. She owed him an explanation.

And a Texas-size apology.

But for now, all Jenna wanted to do was get inside her apartment and make sure that hired gun, Anthony Salazar, was nowhere near her baby. And to think he might have been following her on her entire walk to the grocery store. Or even longer. He could have taken out a gun and fired at any time, and there wouldn’t have been a thing she could do to stop it.

He could have hurt Sophie.

Maybe because she was shaking now, Cal tightened his grip around her, pulling her deeper into the warmth of his arm, while increasing the pace until they were jogging.

“I didn’t name you as my baby’s father to hurt your career,” she assured him. “I didn’t think anyone other than Holden would hear what I was saying.”

A deep sound of disapproval rumbled in Cal’s throat. He didn’t offer anything else until they reached the bookstore. Her apartment was at the back and up the flight of stairs on the second floor.

“You have a security system?” he asked as they hurried up the steps.

“Yes.”

She unlocked the door—both locks—tossed the groceries and her purse on the table in the entry and bolted across the room. The sixteen-year-old sitter, Manda, was on the sofa reading a magazine. Jenna raced past her to the bedroom and saw Sophie sleeping in her crib. Exactly where she’d left her just a half hour earlier at the start of her afternoon nap.

“Is something wrong?” Manda asked, standing.

Jenna didn’t answer that. “Did anyone come by or call?”

Manda shook her head, obviously concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Jenna lied. “I just had a bad case of baby separation. I had to get back and make sure Sophie was all right. And she is. She’s sleeping like…well, a baby.”

Still looking concerned, Manda nodded, and her gaze landed on Cal.

“He’s an old friend,” Jenna explained. She purposely didn’t say Cal’s name. Best not to give too much information until she knew what was going on. Besides, she’d already caused Cal enough trouble.

Jenna took the twenty-dollar bill from her pocket and handed it to Manda. “But I was barely here thirty minutes,” the teen protested. “Five bucks an hour, remember?”

“Consider the rest a tip.” Jenna put her hand on Manda’s back to get her moving. She needed some privacy so she could find out what was going on.

“Why didn’t the alarm go off when we came in?” he wanted to know as soon as Manda walked out with her magazine tucked beneath her arm. It wasn’t a question, exactly. More like the start of a cross-examination.

“It’s connected to the bookstore.” She shut the door and locked it. “The owner turns it on when she closes for the evening.”

That didn’t please him. His disapproving gaze fired around the apartment, but it didn’t have to too far. It was one large twenty-by-twenty-five-foot room with an adjoining bath and a tiny nursery. The kitchenette and dining area were on one side, and the living room with its sofa bed was on the other. It wasn’t exactly quaint and cozy with the vaulted, exposed beam ceiling, but it was a far cry from her massive family home near Houston.

“Why this place?” he asked after he’d finished his assessment.

“It has fewer shadows,” she said, not wanting to explain about her sudden fear of bogeymen, assassins and rebel fighters.

She could still hear the bullets.

She’d always be able to hear them.

Cal nodded and eased the grocery bag onto the tiletopped table.

“You want a drink or something?” Jenna motioned to the fridge.

“No, thanks.” There was an unspoken warning at the end of that. That was her cue to start explaining this whole baby-daddy issue.

She was feeling light-headed and was still shivering, so Jenna snagged the trail mix from her grocery bag and went to the sofa so she could sit down.

“First of all, I didn’t know what I said about the baby would even get back to you. To anyone.” She popped a cashew into her mouth and offered him some from the bag. He shook his head. “Yesterday, when Holden called, I’d just returned from Sophie’s three-month checkup with the pediatrician. Right away, he started yelling, saying that he knew that I’d had a child.”

“How did he know?”

“That’s the million-dollar question.” But then, Jenna rethought that. “Or maybe not. I stopped by my house on the outskirts of Houston to pick up some things before I went to the appointment. Holden probably had someone watching the place and then followed me. I was careful. You know, always checking the rearview mirror and the parking lot at the clinic. But he could have had that Salazar guy following me the whole time.”

In hindsight, she should have anticipated Holden would do something like this. In fact, she should have known he would. He was as tenacious as he was ruthless.

“So Holden confronted you about the baby?” Cal asked.

“Oh, yes. Complete with yelling obscenities. And that was just the prelude. No more facade of being in love with me. He demanded to know if Paul was Sophie’s father. If so, he said he would challenge me for custody.”

“Custody?” Cal didn’t hide his surprise very well.

“Apparently, Paul had some kind of provision in his will that would make Holden the legal guardian to any child that Paul might have—if I’m proven unfit, which Holden says he can do with his connections. After he threatened me with that, I stalled him, trying to think of what I should say, and your message was still in my head. It made the leap from my brain to my mouth before I could stop it, and I just blurted out your name.”

Cal walked closer and slid onto the chair across from her. Close enough for her to see all the scorching blue in his eyes. And close enough to see the emotion and the anger, too. “My message?”

She swallowed hard. “The one you left on my voice mail at my office about a month ago. My assistant sent it to me, and I’d recently listened to it.”

A lot. In fact, she’d memorized it.

She’d found his voice comforting, and that’s why she’d replayed it. Night after night. When she couldn’t sleep. When the nightmares got the best of her. But his voice wasn’t comforting now, of course. Coupled with his riled glare, there wasn’t much comforting about him or this visit.

Well, except that he’d put his arm around her when he thought she was cold.

A special kind of special agent.

He still looked the part, even though he wasn’t in battle gear today. He wore jeans, a dark blue buttondown shirt that was almost the same color as his eyes and a black leather jacket.

“Anyway, after I realized it was stupid to give Holden your name,” she continued, “I thought about calling him back and making something up. But I figured that’d only make him more suspicious.”

Because Cal wasn’t saying anything and because she suddenly didn’t know what to do with her hands, Jenna offered him the trail mix again, and this time he reached into the bag and took out a few pieces.

“I’ve done everything to keep my pregnancy and delivery quiet. Everything,” Jenna said, aware that her nerves were causing her to babble. It was either that, humming or reciting something, and she didn’t want to launch into a neurotic rendition of the Preamble to the Constitution. “I don’t have any family, and none of my friends know. No one here in Willow Ridge really knows who I am, either.”

She didn’t think it was her imagination that he was hesitant to say anything. Under the guise of eating trail mix, Cal sat there, letting her babble linger between them.

Since she had to know what was going on in his head, Jenna just went for the direct approach. “How did your director find out that I’d told Holden about my baby?”

His jaw muscles began to stir against each other. “The Justice Department has kept tabs on you.”

“Tabs?” She took a moment to consider that. “That’s an interesting word. What does it mean exactly?”

More jaw muscles moved. “It means they were keeping track of you in case Holden decided to divulge anything incriminating they could use in their case against him.”

So it was true. Her fears weren’t all in her head. The authorities thought Holden might be a danger as well.

Or maybe they didn’t.

Maybe they were just hoping Holden would do something stupid so they could use that to arrest him.

“I was bait?” she asked.

“No.” But then he lifted his shoulder. “At least I don’t think so.”

Jenna prayed that was true. The thought wasn’t something she could handle right now.

“The baby is Paul Tolivar’s?” Cal asked.

She nodded. And waited for his reaction. She didn’t get one. He put on his operative’s face again. “Just how much trouble will this cause for you?” she wanted to know.

“The ISA has a morality clause.” His fingers tightened around a dried apricot, squishing it. “Plus, the regs forbid personal contact during a protective custody situation.”

That was not what she wanted to hear. “You could be punished.”

Again, it took him a moment to answer. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” Jenna took a deep breath, and because she couldn’t stay still, she got up to pace. There was a solution to this. Not necessarily an appetizing solution, but it did exist. “Will my statement that I lied be enough to clear you, or will you need a paternity test?”

“My director wants a test.” He stood as well, and caught her arm when she started to go past him. His fingers were warm. Surprisingly warm. She could feel his touch all the way through her thick sweater. “But I think that’s the least of your worries right now.”

“Because of Anthony Salazar.” Jenna nodded. “Yes. He’s definitely a worry. His being here means I’ll need to leave Willow Ridge and go into hiding.”

“You’re already in hiding,” Cal pointed out. “And he found you. He’ll find you again. He’s very good at what he does. You need more protection than a bookstore security system or a hired bodyguard can give you. I’ll make some calls and see what I can do.”

Pride almost caused her to decline his offer. But she knew that it wouldn’t protect her baby. And that was the most important thing right now. She had to stay safe because if anything happened to her, it would happen to her precious daughter as well.

“Thank you,” Jenna whispered. She repeated it to make sure he heard her. “I really am sorry about dragging you into my personal life.”

“We’ll get it straightened out,” he assured her. But there was a lot of skepticism in his voice.

And annoyance, which she deserved.

“Okay, while you make those calls, I’ll arrange to have the paternity test done,” Jenna added.

Somehow, though, she’d have to keep the results a secret from anyone but Cal and his director.

Because she didn’t want Holden to learn the truth. Jenna moved away from Cal and started to pace again, mumbling a poem she’d memorized in middle school. She couldn’t help it. A few lines came out before she could stop them.

“What you must think of me,” she said. “For what it’s worth, Paul and I only had sex once, and we used protection. But I guess something went wrong…on a lot of levels. Honestly, I don’t really even remember sleeping with him.” Jenna mumbled that last part.

“You don’t remember?” he challenged.

She shook her head. “One minute we were having dinner, and the next thing I remember was waking up in bed with him. I obviously had too much to drink. Or else he drugged me. Either way, it was my stupid mistake for being there. Then I made things so much worse by telling Holden that you’re my daughter’s father. And here we didn’t even have sex. Heck, we never even kissed on the floor of that cantina.”

A clear image formed in her mind. Of that floor. Of Cal on top of her to protect her from the explosion. It wasn’t exactly pleasurable. Okay, it was. But it wasn’t supposed to be.

Not then.

Not now.

She’d already done enough damage to Cal’s career without her adding unwanted sexual attraction that could never go beyond the fantasy stage.

He opened his mouth to say something, but didn’t get past the first syllable. There was a knock at the door, the sudden sound shattering the silence.

Cal reacted fast. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a handgun from a shoulder holster. He motioned for her to move out of the path of the door.

Jenna raced across the room and took a knife from the cutlery drawer. It probably wouldn’t give them much protection, but she didn’t intend to let Cal fight alone. Especially since the battle was hers.

With his hands gripped around his weapon, he eased toward the door. Every inch of his posture and demeanor was vigilant. Ready. Lethal.

Cal didn’t use the peephole to look outside, but instead peered out the corner of the window.

He cursed softly.

“It’s Holden Carr.”