Читать книгу Protecting His Secret Son - Laura Scott - Страница 14

Mike’s first call was to his buddy Hawk Jacobson. Hawk was another private investigator, and while they both preferred working alone, they also helped each other out on occasion.

“What?” Hawk answered.

“I need help.”

“Again?” Hawk’s tone was dry.

“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, I’ll return the favor.”

“Except that I don’t get into trouble the way your family tends to.”

Difficult to argue that one. Each of his siblings had a career in some kind of law enforcement and had been in danger more times than he could count over the past few years. Hawk’s assistance had been instrumental in proving his brother’s innocence when Mitch had been framed for murder last year.

“I heard Duncan O’Hare hasn’t been seen since noon. It’s too early to file a missing-persons report, but I have reason to believe he’s in trouble. Any chance you can find out more? He has a partner, doesn’t he? A guy named Peter Fresno?”

Mike could hear the sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard. “Yeah,” Hawk agreed. “Peter Fresno is O’Hare’s partner, working out of the fifth district.”

“I need to talk to him.”

Hawk snorted. “Good luck. Getting the address of a cop is nearly impossible. They protect that information closer than Fort Knox protects gold.”

“Not if I can find another cop to provide that info to me.” Mike had two brothers and a brother-in-law who were all Milwaukee cops. He didn’t like asking them to break their code of ethics, but the lives of an innocent woman and her son were on the line. In his opinion, that trumped work ethics. “Anything you can find out would be helpful.”

“Okay.” Hawk disconnected from the line.

Mike sat for a moment, staring at his phone, debating who to call. His brother Miles was a homicide investigator. His brother Matt was a K-9 officer and his sister Maddy’s husband, Noah, had just taken his detective exam, earning himself a gold shield.

May as well start at the top, he thought, scrolling through his contact list to find Miles. His brother answered almost immediately. “What’s up?”

Mike sighed. “I guess it’s my turn to need assistance.”

“Hey, man, don’t take it so hard. It was only a matter of time,” Miles said in a consoling tone.

Mike couldn’t help but chuckle. Hawk was right—the Callahans did have a way of getting into the middle of danger. “It’s not really me, but a friend. A woman and her son.”

“Really?” Miles’s voice rose with interest. “Tell me more.”

Mike rolled his eyes. Now that all the other Callahans were married and having kids, he was the only single guy left. A fact his family never let him forget. “Knock it off. I was keeping an eye on a suspect’s house when I witnessed an attempt to kill a woman and her child. I was able to prevent that from happening and am now keeping her safe.”

“Did you report it?” Miles asked.

“I’m reporting it to you right now. Because I trust you, Miles.” And he didn’t trust all of the cops on the force. “Unfortunately the car involved in the drive-by shooting took off and I didn’t get a plate number. There may be shells or bullet fragments on the scene, so you need to send a few uniforms over to Duncan O’Hare’s house to check it out.”

“O’Hare?” Miles voice rose sharply. “The son of the police chief? That O’Hare?”

“Yeah. And his daughter, Shayla, was the intended victim.”

Miles whistled. “This has to go straight to the top, Mike.”

Exactly what he was trying to avoid. “You do what you need to do. But I’m working the case my way, and there’s a guy I need to talk to. Peter Fresno. He’s an MPD cop working out of the fifth district. I need his contact information, address and phone number.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Mike knew he was asking a lot and if Miles couldn’t, or wouldn’t, help him, he wasn’t so sure Matt or Noah would, either.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Miles finally said. “You think Duncan’s partner is responsible for the shooting?”

“No, I don’t. But he may have information that can help.”

“You’re skating on the edge here, bro. You used to date Shayla, didn’t you? Are you sure you’re not letting your emotions cloud your judgment?”

Maybe, he silently admitted. Shayla and Brodie were the true innocents in this mess. “Look, two days ago I witnessed a meeting between Duncan O’Hare and the alleged leader of the Dark Knights, Lane Walters. I’m telling you, O’Hare has crossed over to the dark side.”

“The chief’s son? A dirty cop? Seriously? You better have hard-core proof to back up an allegation like that.”

“Exactly. Which is why I need your help.” Mike paused and then added, “I’ve never asked you for this kind of favor before, Miles. You know how much I prefer to work alone. This is critical or I wouldn’t ask now.”

Miles let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, okay. I’ll call you back in a few.” Miles clicked off and Mike stared down at his phone once again.

The case was important but his thoughts kept returning to Shayla, the woman he’d once loved, and her son.

For a brief moment he’d thought the boy was his, but the math didn’t add up. Four years ago, the night he’d left the academy and his father had practically disowned him, he’d turned his back on his faith and his family, seeking solace in Shayla’s arms.

They’d been seeing each other for six months by then and, knowing they’d gone too far, Mike hadn’t hesitated in asking her to marry him. He’d been ecstatic when she’d agreed. They’d secretly made plans to go to the courthouse, but a week later his father was murdered. Ian O’Hare had instantly been appointed interim and then permanent chief of police.

From that moment on, especially after he’d heard Duncan and Ian talking about secretly supporting the Dark Knights, Mike had become obsessed with learning the truth.

An obsession that had torn him and Shayla apart.

But there was no sense in rehashing the past. Keeping Shayla safe was his priority. Hearing that she wasn’t running from the boy’s father had been slightly reassuring. But he still thought it was strange that the guy had let her drive from Nashville to Milwaukee alone, especially knowing that her father was sick in the hospital. Shouldn’t he be here, supporting her?

Unless the guy was already out of the picture? Divorce or death... He winced and inwardly shrugged. As Shayla pointed out, her personal life was none of his business.

He rose and crossed the room to listen intently at the connecting door. There was nothing unusual past the muted sounds of the television.

He was about to step over the threshold to question her more about Brodie’s father when his phone buzzed and Hawk’s name popped up on the screen.

“What did you find out?” Mike asked.

“Not much. Apparently, Duncan’s been off work for a couple of days.”

That made sense based on his father’s upcoming surgery. “Anything else?”

“No squawking about illegal activity, if that’s what you mean. But we wouldn’t hear even if there was a hint of scandal. Cops don’t like to advertise when one of their own might be dirty.”

“True, especially not the police chief’s son.” The task he faced suddenly seemed insurmountable. He did his best to shake off the impending sense of doom. “Hawk, would you do something else for me?”

The PI heaved a loud sigh. “Now what?”

“Dig into the background of a woman named Shayla O’Hare and a four-or five-year-old boy named Brodie.”

“The sister? Why?”

“She’s in danger and claims she doesn’t know why. Denies she’s running from the boy’s father, but I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

“Why not?” Hawk once again abruptly disconnected. The guy didn’t like to use words like hello or goodbye, but Mike was used to it.

His phone rang again. This time it was Miles. “That was fast,” Mike said.

“Yeah, well it’s my turn to put Adam to bed so I have to make this quick. I was able to get Pete’s address and a cell number.” Miles rattled off the information as Mike scribbled it down on the motel notepad with a stubby pencil.

“How is Adam? Sleeping through the night?”

“Most of the time, but he’s teething again so it’s a toss-up whether or not he will this week.” Pride was evident in his brother’s tone. Miles and his wife, Paige, had two kids—Abby, who was seven, and Adam, who’d just turned one. Rumor had it that Miles and Paige were trying for baby number three, which was unfathomable.

Just because Mike and his siblings came from a family of six kids didn’t mean they each needed to have the same number of children. But try telling his brothers and sister that. It seemed the Callahans were determined to populate the city.

Except for him. After his relationship with Shayla had disintegrated beyond repair, he’d focused on nothing more than finding the man responsible for his father’s murder.

Besides, he wasn’t interested in opening himself up to being hurt like that again. Not after the way Shayla had shattered his heart.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Miles continued, breaking into his thoughts. “The cops were already out at Duncan’s place, someone reported the sound of gunfire. But they haven’t found much.”

“Not even a bullet fragment? That seems unlikely.”

“It’s early in the investigation,” Miles pointed out. “But you also need to know there’s a report of a black SUV fleeing the scene. I’m sure that was you, right?”

“Yep.”

“No license plate number, but you might want to consider changing your vehicle, just to be safe.”

“Okay, thanks. I appreciate the intel.”

There was a slight pause then, “Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“Is this about Dad’s murder?”

He hesitated. “Honestly? I think so, but have no proof.” Yet.

Another pause. “I need you to be careful, okay?” Miles finally said. “And don’t forget we’re here if you need us. After all, our motto is that family sticks together. Don’t shut us out. We all want to find the truth behind Dad’s murder.”

“I know.” Mike was touched by his brother’s offer. His siblings knew he was a bit of a lone wolf, forging his own path in the world. Which was exactly why he and his father had got into that fateful argument a week before his murder. His father had railed at him for being selfish, for not giving back to the community. Mike had tried to explain that he’d changed his mind. That he didn’t want to wait to become a detective—that he’d wanted to do that now. But his father hadn’t listened. And rather than try to talk it through, Mike had walked away, turned his back on his family and his faith.

The last words he’d said to his father had been in anger. After the murder, Mike had been assailed by guilt, desperately wishing he’d taken the opportunity to tell his dad he was sorry. That he loved him.

Something that still bothered him every single day.

Months later, after he’d come back to his family and his faith, he’d prayed that his father knew that he was sorry for the way they’d parted that day.

And hoped his father would forgive him.

“Mike?” Miles’s voice brought his attention back to the present.

“Yeah. Thanks, Miles. I won’t forget.”

“Later, then.” Miles hung up, leaving Mike to wonder how he should approach the new information. He wanted nothing more than to head right over to talk to Peter Fresno, yet at the same time the idea that his SUV might have been seen leaving Duncan’s house nagged at him.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d asked Hawk to swap rides. He could always use one of his undercover identities to rent a different vehicle, too. It wasn’t illegal to have an alternate ID as long as he didn’t commit a crime while using it. He debated between doing something tonight or waiting until the morning.

Normally he wouldn’t hesitate, but he didn’t want to disturb Shayla and her son. The chances that someone could have tracked him from Duncan’s house to the American Lodge were slim to nonexistent. And if they had? There would be cops already knocking at the door.

Convinced they were safe for the moment, he slipped his phone back into his pocket. Feeling restless, he paced the small interior of the room. He wanted to go over to Shayla’s room to grill her about Duncan, but knew she wasn’t going to tell him anything more than she already had.

And maybe she truly didn’t know anything more. Interesting to find out she lived in Nashville and had only returned because of her father’s illness. No wonder their paths hadn’t crossed in the past four years.

Mike doused the lights and stretched out on the bed fully dressed. Since he didn’t have his file on his father’s murder to review, he thought it best to get caught up on rest. Working eighteen-hour days and sleeping less than six hours per night had taken its toll.

He fell asleep almost immediately, only to be woken by a piercing scream. Bolting out of bed, he grabbed his gun from the bedside table and barreled through the connecting door into Shayla’s room, his heart practically thumping out of his chest as he frantically scanned for an intruder.

All he saw was Shayla cuddling Brodie close, whispering reassurances to him. Mike’s heart rate slowed and he lowered his weapon, gulping air as he realized there wasn’t any danger.

“Is there something I can do?” he asked, approaching cautiously.

“Put the gun away,” she whispered harshly. “You’re scaring him!”

He didn’t bother to point out the kid had screamed in terror before he’d come in with his gun. He tucked the weapon into the back of his waistband, then stood awkwardly for a moment. “Are you sure you’re not running from his father?” he asked.

“I’m sure.” Her tone was firm.

“Then why the nightmare?”

Her deep brown eyes narrowed. “Obviously the scene in my brother’s driveway must have scared him more than I realized. Hearing gunfire would frighten any child.”

The boy’s dark hair was a stark contrast to Shayla’s riot of blond curls. He’d noticed earlier, the kid’s brown eyes were identical to hers, though; a fact that niggled at him.

He glanced around the room, then took a step back. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

“I will.” She continued rocking the boy, pressing kisses to the top of his head while rubbing her hand along his back.

Mike didn’t leave, even though he knew he should. Several minutes ticked by before the boy relaxed against her, appearing to fall asleep. Satisfied the crisis was over, Mike turned away. But once again she stopped him.

“Wait, Mike. Will you stay for a few minutes?” Her voice was soft, as if she didn’t want to disturb her son.

“Uh, sure.” Surprised she asked, he pulled out a chair and sat. “What do you need?”

“I need—we need—to talk.” The seriousness of her tone made him frown.

“About what?”

She didn’t answer for a long moment, then finally met his gaze. “Brodie’s father.”

* * *

Shayla knew she couldn’t live with herself if she continued with the charade a moment longer. Gingerly, she eased away from her son so that he was lying on the pillow. He snuggled against it for a moment but didn’t wake up. She pulled the covers up over his shoulders and then slipped off the bed.

She felt terrible about Brodie’s nightmare. She’d hoped her young son hadn’t noticed the gun pointed in their direction by the small black car or that the sharp report he’d heard was from a gun.

But Brodie was smart and she’d failed to protect him from the grim reality of gunfire. Maybe she should demand Mike take her to her Jeep so she could drive back to Nashville. Brodie didn’t deserve to be subjected to terrifying experiences like this.

Then again, what if the danger followed her? What if the person trying to seek revenge on Duncan wouldn’t hesitate to take her and Brodie out to make a point?

“You are running from him,” Mike said, interrupting her thoughts.

“No.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She had no idea how to tell him. “Let’s go into your room, so we don’t wake Brodie.”

“Fine.”

She picked up her cell phone in case the hospital staff called and followed him through the connecting door.

“Who is he?” Mike asked.

She stared at him, realizing that once she told him the truth, her life and Brodie’s would never be the same. She’d noticed Mike didn’t wear a wedding ring, but not all men did. He could still be involved with someone. The knots in her belly tightened painfully but she told herself to grow a spine. She locked her fingers and lifted her chin. “You are.”

His jaw dropped comically, and then anger flashed in his green eyes. “Don’t play games. Brodie is what—four? Going on five?”

“He’s three,” she corrected swiftly. “His birthday is in February. Valentine’s Day to be exact. And yes, he’s big for his age. But I’m not playing games. Why would I? Brodie is your son.”

His face went blank for a moment, then he leaped to his feet. “And you’re just telling me now?”

“Shh, don’t wake him up. And I tried to call you when I found out, remember how that went?” She could tell her tone was defensive and tried to bring it down a notch. “You didn’t give me a chance to tell you.”

“You should have called me again,” he countered, but his voice lacked heat. He stood and paced the length of the room. “I can’t believe it. Mine. Brodie is my son!”

“Our son.” Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she quickly pulled it out. She expected the call to be from the hospital but her brother’s name flashed on the screen. “This is Duncan,” she said in relief.

“Put it on speaker,” Mike demanded.

She frowned and shook her head, fearing her brother wouldn’t talk freely if he knew she wasn’t alone. “Duncan? Where are you? Why didn’t you meet me at the hospital?”

“How’s Dad?” His voice was soft, as if he were someplace he couldn’t talk.

“He’s fine. His surgery is still planned for the day after tomorrow. They want to make sure his blood pressure is stable before they put him under anesthesia.” She could feel Mike’s gaze boring into her and did her best to ignore it. “Where are you? I was worried when you didn’t come back to the house.”

“Yeah, well, I picked up a tail so I thought it was best to stay away.”

“Picked up a tail?” She glared at Mike, knowing he’d likely been the one following her brother. “Tell me where you are and I’ll meet you.”

She held her breath, waiting, hoping, praying. Then finally her brother admitted, “I’m in a motel in Jacksonville. A place called the Rustic Resort. But don’t come here. It’s late and Brodie’s probably asleep. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

“Duncan, listen to me. Someone took a shot at me and Brodie outside your house. We needed protection, so I’m here with Mike Callahan. We’ll pick you up, okay? It’s better if we work together on this.”

“You were shot at? That’s crazy! Listen, I have to go.” Her brother abruptly ended the call.

“Duncan?” Feeling frantic, she hit the redial button on her phone.

The call went straight to voice mail. She dragged her gaze to Mike’s. “He hung up. I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Where is he?” Mike demanded.

“In Jacksonville.” She hesitated, then added, “I’m worried he’s in trouble. He didn’t say it in so many words, but that’s the sense I get.”

“That’s why I wanted you to put the call on speaker.” The sharp note in his voice ticked her off.

“Well, we don’t always get what we want, do we?”

Tension shimmered between them for a long moment and this time Mike turned away, raking a hand through his hair. “Okay, fine. Let’s go get him.”

“Good idea.” She jumped to her feet. “Let me get Brodie.”

Mike stared at her and she could tell he was thinking about the fact that Brodie was his son. “No need to wake him up. Give me the name of the motel and I’ll head over to get your brother. Better that you and Brodie stay here where it’s safe.”

“No.” She wasn’t in the mood for his drill sergeant persona. “We’re going with you.”

“Not happening,” Mike said firmly.

“You don’t know the name of the motel, but I do. Besides, I said Duncan might be in trouble, not that he was in danger. I’m the one who was shot at. Don’t you think we should stick together?”

Mike looked torn, as if considering her point.

“Let’s go,” she said. “We’re wasting time arguing about this.”

It was clear he didn’t like it, but he reluctantly nodded. She spun on her heel and went back into her room to pick up Brodie.

As she lifted her son into her arms, she hoped that Duncan and Mike could find a way to work together.

Her safety and Brodie’s could very well depend on it.