Читать книгу Daddy Bombshell - Lisa Childs - Страница 8

Chapter Two

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“Good luck,” Tammy whispered through the open driver’s window after Caroline had buckled Mark into his booster seat in the back.

“Thank you,” Caroline replied. For the good-luck wishes and for picking up her son, so that the little boy wouldn’t overhear the explosion that was certain to come from Thad Kendall.

Despite the cold wind that drove icy snowflakes into her face and chin-length hair, Caroline stood outside, watching Tammy’s minivan drive away. And avoiding Thad.

But he deserved an explanation, which he’d already agreed to wait for until Tammy picked up Mark, so they could talk in private. She drew in a deep breath, the cold air burning her lungs, and turned back to the house. Through the big picture window, she could see Thad pacing the length of her living room—giving a wide berth around the Christmas tree as if it were a vicious dog that might attack if he got too close.

She pulled open the front door and stepped into the room with him. Warmth from the crackling fire immediately melted the snowflakes from her hair and skin so that they ran down her face like tears. Her fingers trembled as she brushed away the moisture. Despite the warmth of the room, she kept her coat on, wrapped tight around her as if she still needed the protection.

Thad didn’t stop pacing. She remembered how he had never stopped moving. How had he ever managed to hold still long enough to take the poignant photos of war and tragedy that had earned him such accolades in his nearly decadelong career?

“So are you going to try to lie to me?” he asked. His voice, colder even than the winter wind, chilled her to the bone.

“Lie to you?” she repeated, the question echoing hollowly off the coffered ceiling.

“Play me for a fool, deny that that little boy is my son,” he said, heat in his voice now as his blue eyes burned with anger.

Still, she shivered. “Mark is definitely your son.”

“Then why did you keep that from me?” he demanded to know with an intensity that might have had Caroline taking a step back if righteous indignation wasn’t pumping through her veins right now.

Except for on the news and in newspapers, she hadn’t seen him in nearly four years. Her anger ignited and she lashed out, “How was I supposed to tell you? When you called me? When you wrote me? Oh, yeah, you didn’t do any of those things!”

He shoved his hand through his hair, tousling the dark brown strands. “We agreed that a clean break would be easier.”

“I agreed.” As she’d fought back her tears and silently called herself all kinds of a fool for falling for him when he’d been clear right from the start that he had to leave again. Why hadn’t she listened to him instead of Tammy and her own stupid heart? “But the clean break was your idea, so I figured you wanted nothing to do with me anymore.”

“Caroline …” He reached out but pulled his hand back before touching her face. “I never led you on. I was straight with you up front.”

And that was why she should have never gone out with him. But the attraction between them had been so strong—as strong as it was now, her skin tingling even though he hadn’t touched her—that she hadn’t been able to resist. And she really had hoped that her friend was right, that if he fell in love with her, he would stay.

But he hadn’t.…

“I know you had to leave,” she said, and she suspected she even knew why—because it was too hard for him to stay in the city where his parents had been so brutally murdered. “But I didn’t know where you were.”

“You could have given a message to my brothers Devin or Ash or to my uncle Craig,” he said. “They would have made sure I got it.”

She laughed, but with bitterness not amusement. “I don’t know your brothers or your uncle. I never met your family,” she reminded him, feeling now as she had then, as if she had been some dirty secret of his. Had dating an elementary school teacher been so far beneath the status of one of the illustrious Kendalls of St. Louis that he’d been embarrassed to introduce her to his family?

“But you know who they are and how to reach them,” he stubbornly persisted.

Of course she knew; everyone in St. Louis and most of the United States knew who every one of the Kendalls was.

“But your family doesn’t know who I am,” she retorted. “What reason would they have to believe that I was really carrying your child and not just trying to make a claim on the Kendall fortune?”

According to local gossip, several other women had tried to get their hands on some Kendall money albeit through his brothers and not Thad.

“My brothers or uncle would have told me that you’d come to see them—”

“When?” she interrupted. “Are you in regular contact with them? Have you even come home in the past four years?” She waited, almost hoping he hadn’t so she wouldn’t be disappointed that he hadn’t contacted her earlier.

“I would have gotten word,” he insisted, a muscle twitching along his tightly clenched jaw.

“And what would you have done?” she wondered. “Would you have come back home? Would you have given up your nomad lifestyle for diaper duty and two-a.m. feedings?”

“You did that all alone?” He glanced around the living room as if he were looking for her support system.

Her parents had moved to Arizona years ago, coming back to St. Louis for only a few weeks every summer. Except for her friends, she had no one.

She nodded in response, but she didn’t want his sympathy or his guilt. “And I loved every minute of it. Mark was the easiest baby and now he’s the sweetest little boy.”

“I guess I will have to take your word for what kind of baby he was since I’ve missed out on those years,” he said.

He had stopped his restless pacing and stood now in front of the portrait wall of her living room, staring wistfully at all the pictures of their son. In addition to the studio portraits she’d had taken every few months, she’d framed collages of snapshots, too. She’d recorded every special moment in his life, and hers, because she’d been there. Thad hadn’t. Maybe he wouldn’t have been even if he’d known. But she’d robbed him of that choice.

Now the guilt was hers. She should have tried to talk to his family so that one of them might have gotten word to him. It hadn’t been fair of her to just assume that he wouldn’t have wanted any involvement in his son’s life just because he hadn’t wanted any involvement in hers.

“But I don’t intend to miss out on anything else, Caroline,” Thad said, his voice low and deep as if he were issuing a threat. “I am going to be part of his life.”

“For how long?” she asked. “Just long enough to break his heart when you leave again?” Just like he had broken hers.

THAD’S HEAD POUNDED, tension throbbing at his temples and at the base of his skull. Maybe it was the chemicals in his new sister-in-law’s crime lab at the St. Louis Police Department that had caused the headache.

But the fumes weren’t toxic or Rachel wouldn’t have been working still, not in her condition. The petite brunette was very pregnant, her belly protruding through the sides of the white lab coat.

What had Caroline looked like when she was pregnant? She was taller than Rachel with more generous curves. Had she hidden her pregnancy for a while? Being a single mom might have caused her problems at the elementary school where she worked.

He hadn’t asked about that. He’d been too stunned and angry to do more than yell at her. And he hadn’t talked to his son at all. Knowing how close he’d been to losing his temper, he had let her call her friend to pick up the boy. Instead of talking to him while they waited, Thad had just stared at the kid and had probably scared him.

Had he scared Caroline, too? After he’d demanded a relationship with his son, she had asked him to leave, saying that she needed time to think. That had been a couple of days ago.

All he’d been doing was thinking.

“Hey, little bro!” Devin snapped his fingers in Thad’s face. “You called this meeting. Down here.” The CEO of Kendall Communications glanced around the sterile lab and shuddered. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t care,” Ash murmured as he pressed a kiss against the nape of Rachel’s neck, which her high ponytail left exposed. “He gave me an excuse to see my gorgeous wife.”

“Get a room,” Thad grumbled.

“You’re just jealous,” Ash teased. But he was also right.

Thad was jealous that he’d missed out on seeing Caroline like Rachel was now, glowing and beautiful in her pregnancy … with his son.

The door to the lab opened again. “I’m here,” a deep voice murmured as former navy SEAL Grayson Scott joined them. “And if my fiancée asks, I was out bonding with my brothers-in-law-to-be.”

“How are we bonding?” Devin asked with a grin. His eyes gleamed with curiosity and mischief. “Drinking? Working out?”

Color flushed Gray’s face, and he grumbled his reply. “We’re Christmas shopping.”

Rachel laughed. “Now you’re going to have to actually go shopping, so that you weren’t really lying to Natalie.”

The thought of Christmas shopping, of the music and the crowds and all the goddamn cheer, had Thad’s stomach churning.

“It’s better that she doesn’t know why we’re all together,” Thad pointed out. “There is no point in upsetting Natalie until we know the truth.”

Rachel nodded and was suddenly all business. “The FBI lab results came back.” She stared at Thad, her hazel eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I don’t know how you got the results rushed, but the DNA report is back already. It confirms my findings.”

Thad hadn’t needed a DNA test to prove that he was Mark’s father. The little boy was him twenty-eight years ago.

“So was I right?”

Rachel studied him again. “I don’t know how you knew.…”

He shrugged. “I didn’t know for sure. But the eyes …” He shuddered even now, thinking of how looking into the dead man’s eyes had been like looking into his sister’s. Only the color had been different. “So Natalie is only our half sister?”

“According to the DNA tests you all took in comparison to Natalie’s samples that you had taken while she was in the hospital, and the dead man’s samples I took from the morgue—” Rachel’s ponytail bobbed as she nodded “—her stalker was her half brother.”

“So she had a different father from all of you?” Gray asked, looking somewhat ill.

“That’s the most likely scenario,” Devin said with a weary sigh of resignation, as if this was merely confirmation of something he had already suspected.

He’d been older than the rest of them, sixteen, when their parents had been murdered. He remembered them best. Or perhaps, worst.

“We need to tell her,” Gray said. After dragging in a deep breath, he added, “I need to tell her.”

“No,” Thad said with a head shake that only intensified the throbbing pain. “I’ll tell her.”

Gray’s jaw clenched. “Any particular reason you want to be the one to tell her?”

Over the years, Thad, Devin and Ash had given Natalie’s boyfriends a tough time because none of them had ever been good enough for her. Until now. Grayson Scott was a good man, but that hadn’t stopped them all from being a little rough on him in the beginning. He’d had to prove to them, as well as Natalie, how much he loved her. Taking a bullet to save her life had pretty much sealed the deal for all of them.

“I’m the one who killed him,” Thad offered in explanation. “I’m the reason she’ll never get to know this guy.”

“He didn’t want to get to know her,” Gray reminded him. “He wanted to kill her.”

“Why?” Devin asked. “Knowing now that they’re related, it makes even less sense that he was stalking her.”

“Did you find out anything else from his DNA?” Ash asked his wife. “Like who the hell he is?”

She shook her head. “We already ran his prints. While they matched the ones from the break-in at my apartment, he wasn’t in the system.”

“So he is the guy who tried to get the DNA results from our parents’ crime scene?” Devin asked. “He’s the one who tried to destroy the evidence that cleared Rick Campbell?”

The petty thief had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had done twenty years’ time for someone else’s crime. He never got the chance to enjoy freedom again. He’d been killed to cover up the corruption that had rushed his conviction in order to clear a high-profile case and advance a career.

Ash gave a grim nod in response to his older brother’s question. Rachel had been hurt during the break-in; it was how he had learned she was pregnant since they’d broken up months earlier.

“We need to find out this guy’s identity,” Gray said. “I’m not even sure Wade is his real first name. It’s just what he told the girl at the coffee shop Natalie goes to.”

“Did you get any leads from the photograph that was released to the media?” Devin asked Ash.

Ash shook his head. “The new chief wouldn’t let us release the morgue photo, and that surveillance photo from the ATM camera outside the coffee shop is too grainy for anyone to make a positive identification.”

Devin turned to Thad. “Why don’t you leak a better photo?”

“The chief will know where the photo came from,” Rachel warned them.

“We don’t need to know who this guy was,” Thad said, which elicited gasps from his family.

Gray’s neck snapped back in indignation. “What the hell—he tried to kill Natalie—”

“He’s dead now. He’s no longer a threat,” Thad pointed out. “He was about my age. He couldn’t have been our parents’ killer.”

“Our parents’ killer might not be out there anymore,” Ash remarked. “He could be locked up or dead. But this guy, Natalie’s half brother, is the one who attacked Rachel to try to destroy the DNA evidence from our parents’ murder—”

“Why did he do it? He couldn’t have been their killer,” he repeated, “so he must have been trying to protect someone.”

Gray sucked in a breath. “Maybe that’s why he tried to kill Natalie.”

“Because she did see something that night our parents were murdered,” Ash said. “Maybe the killer …”

“We don’t need to know who this Wade guy was,” Thad repeated, “although finding that out will help us learn what we really need to know—who his father is.”

“And if he was locked up or dead, his son wouldn’t have gone to the extent he had to protect him,” Ash reasoned. He wrapped his arms around Rachel, as if he needed to protect her even inside the lab in the basement of the St. Louis Police Department.

Gray swore beneath his breath. “So even though that son of a bitch is dead, there’s still a threat out there?”

Thad shrugged. “I don’t know for sure. Rachel, we’ll need you to run the DNA from the old crime scene and compare it to the stalker’s DNA.”

Her brow furrowed. “I don’t have access to any of the original evidence anymore,” she said, patting her belly. “Not even the results. I’ve been taken off the case because no one with any connection to a Kendall is being allowed near the case files or the evidence.”

“They don’t trust that we really want justice,” Ash said.

“Can you talk to someone with access and have them run it?” Thad persisted.

She shook her head. “The stalker was too young to be considered a viable suspect in the old murders. They won’t look at him for any connection.”

“That’s why the Kendalls should be running the investigation,” Thad said. It was why they were going to damn well run their own.

A short while later, when Thad walked through the parking garage to his car, he knew that there was definitely a threat. He felt someone’s gaze boring into his back. It could have been reporters, but he doubted it. If they’d made it past the police department parking garage attendant, then they would have been rushing him with cameras and questions. They wouldn’t have just watched him.

But then why would the killer watch him? He hadn’t witnessed anything the night his parents died. He’d done nothing to save them. But he had saved lives in his real job. He’d also taken lives. Maybe Michaels had given him up. He reached beneath his jacket, but his holster was locked up, with his gun, inside his glove box. He wouldn’t have gotten it past the security scanners in the police department unless he’d had Ash clear it for him. And his brother would have had too many questions about Thad having a license for a concealed weapon.

Now, as the hairs on the nape of his neck lifted with foreboding, Thad wished he’d answered those questions, so that he was armed. Keeping close to vehicles for cover, he visually scanned the garage, looking for whoever was staring at him with such intensity. Yes, there was definitely a threat still out there, and it was focused wholly on Thad.

ONE KILLER ALWAYS RECOGNIZES another

Thad Kendall couldn’t see him through the tinted windows of his SUV, but still Ed ducked down when the man turned toward his vehicle. How could anyone be fooled by Kendall’s cover?

He was so much more than a bored rich kid or a globe-trotting reporter. Sure, maybe it was because of where he’d reported stories that he moved as he did—as if he had a target on his back. But when he’d felt Ed watching him, he had reached for a gun whereas a reporter’s instinct would have been to grab a microphone or a camera instead. Not a weapon.

Kendall was also a damn good shot … when he was armed. But he had no gun now. No protection at all. And he was so close. All Ed would have to do was start the engine, stomp on the gas and run him down. Ed shook with anticipation—not withdrawal. He didn’t need a drink. He needed vengeance. He could almost imagine the satisfying crunch of the man’s bones beneath the tires of his SUV.

It would hurt Kendall. But not enough.…

The son of a bitch wouldn’t feel as much pain as he had caused. So killing him wouldn’t be satisfying at all—not until Thad Kendall had suffered. All Ed had to do was watch and figure out what would cause Thad the most pain.

Daddy Bombshell

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