Sadie stood up.
“I need to speak with you all about something else,” Riley blurted, somewhat awkwardly. Suddenly, the only sound in the room was Pal’s panting. All sets of green eyes, and one hazel, pointed straight at him. Sadie dropped back to her chair.
And no one chewed.
Damn.
Those eyes working together as an excruciating spotlight, Riley cleared his throat. Reached for an apple. Something innocuous. Normal. Took a bite, letting it fill his suddenly dry mouth with juice.
“What’s going on?”
“What’s wrong?”
“What’s up?”
“Talk.”
“Is everything okay?”
Kiely, Pippa, Griffin, Vikki and Sadie. All talking at once, but he heard them in order. As he always did. Years of law enforcement training did that for a guy.
“I recognized Blythe Kent’s name when her card fell out of Brody’s brochures. Which is why I chose to be the one to follow up with her.”
“Was she a friend of Mom’s?” Pippa asked.
He shook his head. “I’d never met Blythe. I know her niece, who lives with her.”
A couple of blond heads cocked one way. Brown another. And Griffin got a bit of a grin as he faced Riley head-on.
“You like her!” Sadie exclaimed.
About to say he’d only met her once, Riley checked himself. His siblings needed to know about the baby. They didn’t need to know that the child was a result of a one-night stand.
That story didn’t really feel like his to tell.
Trouble was, he didn’t have any story to tell. Any words at all. No explanation that suited him or the situation.
“She’s pregnant.” The baldness of the words left a bad sound in his head. And came to him partially in Charlize’s voice, talking to Iglesias that morning.
“The child is mine.”
Damn, again.
After another second or two of dropped jaws and opened mouths, the room erupted. So much so that Pal barked.
And Riley did something he’d never done to them before. He got up and walked out.
When her phone rang late that day, Charlize expected the caller to be Riley. Wasn’t happy about the initial disappointment that briefly swept through her as she saw Detective Iglesias’s ID come up on her screen.
Nor was she happy about the wave of anxiety the detective’s name brought. Considered letting the call go to voice mail.
She was a strong, trained and capable woman. No way some creep was going to make her live in fear.
Or scare her off her job, either.
But she had an added, unexpected challenge, too. A baby to protect. A random thought of raising a child all on her own brought another short wave of panic.
She pushed back at it.
She was just going to have to figure out how to do it all.
Had tried on and off all afternoon to come up with a scenario that had her accomplishing everything successfully—while she actually did complete the work she’d set for herself to do from home. Reports were written and written well. Calls had been made. A woman she’d been working with had finally agreed to enter rehab and she’d made those arrangements.
She picked up on the fifth ring. You didn’t take control by avoidance...
“I wish I had something more to tell you than I do,” the detective started out. “I spoke with everyone on your client list, those you saw Monday, and otherwise, and every one of them have alibis for yesterday’s drive-by threat, and this morning’s shooting. Including James Barber and Ronny Simms. Everyone is at work today, too, on time, as expected.”
“Ronny and James both had alibis?” she asked. She’d been telling herself the threat would be gone by the end of the day. Neither James nor Ronny were hard-core thugs, or even all that bright. They had anger issues, jealousy issues, but they’d made mistakes. Neither of them was good at covering their tracks, which was how they’d ended up on police radar, and then in court and on her client list, to begin with.
“Last night’s alibis for both Barber and Simms, and one other, as well, were given by their girlfriends, but yes, all three women looked me in the eye and told me their boyfriends were with them. And you’re sure that there was no one else in the truck last night?”
“I’m not sure, no,” she said, getting up from the desk in her upstairs office and pacing to the window, before deciding that that wasn’t safe. She could be shot through a window. Still, it had been good to see the police car stationed out front. It would be a deterrent if nothing else, right? “I didn’t see much of the driver. Riley Colton did, though.”
“I have him on my list to call next,” Iglesias said. “And even if no one saw a second occupant of the truck, someone could have ducked down on the seat or the floor.”
“What about the black truck?”
“No one on your client list claimed it, and there isn’t one registered to any of them.”
“Riley said the truck that sped away this morning didn’t have a plate on it, so that would mean it’s probably not registered, right?”
“Or that the plates were removed so that the truck couldn’t be identified.”
Either way, that left her with nothing but threats and suspicions.
And fear.
“I’m going to be keeping an officer on your house for tonight, and we’ll reassess tomorrow,” he said.
She worked with the court system, and with the police. She knew what he was telling her. They weren’t going to have the manpower to continue to watch her twenty-four-seven.
She really had thought it would all just be over.
“We’ve also alerted everyone on the street to keep eyes on Barber, Simms and a couple of others,” he added. “If anyone heads your way, we’ll know, and we’ll stop them.”
In a perfect world. They’d try, though. She trusted that completely. “Thank you,” she told him, truly appreciative of all that he was doing for her.
“Take good care,” he told her and hung up, leaving her with a helpless feeling that she was determined would not win.
The threat had to be coming from one of her clients. She was the clear target—not her aunt, not Riley, not anyone else. She’d been told to stay away—before she’d even known about Aunt Blythe’s involvement with Wes Matthews and RevitaYou.
And the only thing in her life that anyone would have any cause to want her gone from was a case. An unhealthy home whose occupants were feeling threatened by her presence in their lives.
But if she let them scare her off, she’d be giving a dangerous person more power.
Power that they would likely use to hurt or kill a mate.
She couldn’t live with that on her conscience. Or her heart.
She couldn’t let evil win.
Riley hadn’t just walked out of the meeting in his dining room. He’d walked out of his house. Without keys. He had a gun at his waist. A wallet in his pocket. But no keys.
For the first minute or two, he just strode at a good clip, heading nowhere in particular except away. He wasn’t running away. He’d go back. He’d face them. Maybe not within the next hour, or even that night, but he’d stand up to whatever trial his siblings wanted to put him on.
As soon as he figured out the answers to the questions they were all bound to have.
Answers they would expect from him.
Answers they deserved.
After a few minutes of calming exercise, he slowed his pace a bit. And knew where he was headed. It was only a few blocks between his place and Charlize’s, in the upscale, historical Heritage Park neighborhood he’d grown up in and had thought he’d left forever.
Life had a way of turning on a dime. His almost half century of living had damn sure shown him that.
Charlize didn’t have to know he was there. He’d feel better just seeing the cop outside in a quiet, undisturbed neighborhood.
A little better, anyway. The woman was clearly in danger.
Which meant his child was in danger.
While he did nothing but wait for others to figure it out. And to watch over her.
The idea wasn’t sitting well with him. To the point that he knew the plan wasn’t going to work. He’d given his entire adult life to protecting and serving. No way in hell he wasn’t going to do the same for his own flesh and blood.
This strong inner conversation was interrupted by the ring of his cell phone. Grabbing it out of his pocket, he listened intently, and without pleasure, to the report Iglesias gave him.
Basically, they were nowhere with nothing.
Unacceptable.
Thanking the detective, certain that the man was going to continue to keep diligent watch on Charlize’s clients, Riley stood just down from Charlize’s house. He leaned against a tree by the curb as he filled Iglesias in on the meeting at CI that afternoon.
“My team has connected with six RevitaYou users, and three of them complained of not feeling well,” he reported. “Blythe Kent reported feelings of nausea, as well. I’m thinking there needs to be some formal looking into those vitamins. We might have more than a pyramid scheme on our hands...”
“I’ll talk to the chief about it,” Iglesias told him, and agreeing, once again, to keep each other informed, they rang off.
Iglesias was a good guy. And in some ways, his hands were tied.
Riley’s weren’t anymore. A definite upside to being an independent professional investigator. He could spend what time he chose on whatever case he chose. Look into whatever he chose to look into.
He could offer his services as he pleased, or thought warranted.
And at the moment he had one place in mind to plant his ass.
The idea was just starting to form on a conscious level and yet it was concrete. Charlize and her aunt had to come stay with him at CI headquarters.
And it would all go so much better if she was agreeable with the plan.
Stopping at the cop car out front, he introduced himself, showed his professional investigator ID and then headed toward Charlize’s front door.
He should probably call first. Had the thought. Dismissed it. Time was of the essence.
And he wasn’t going to rest until he knew she was safe.
Charlize had just hung up from calling her aunt at the neighbor’s when the knock sounded on the door. Heart pounding, she kept out of sight of the front window, half hugging the wall as she made her way to the foyer and the peephole in the front door. Could just be the police officer out front, but if he was knocking on the door, it might not be good.
As soon as she recognized Riley Colton standing on her stoop, she unlocked and pulled open the door, keeping herself behind it and out of sight from the street as he let himself inside.
She wasn’t sure what they had to say to each other. What had to be said right then, at any rate, but she wasn’t going to stand in the open doorway and speak to him.
“Iglesias called,” she told him, straight off. He’d been present during both attempts on her life, he was the father of her child and a career FBI man. She could do the math. There was no way he was going to mind his own business on this one.
She wasn’t even sure she wanted him to do so. The man knew how to face danger and win. If he had advice for her, she wanted to hear it.
“I spoke with him, as well,” Riley said, standing there in those tight jeans with that gun on his belt, looking all masculine and sexy. “Which is why I’m here.”
Of course. He wouldn’t be stopping by just to see her.
Not that she wanted him to stop by just to see her. She’d send him away if he did.
“My aunt is calling her sister, my aunt Grace, who lives out in Lowell, to see about staying with her until this all blows over,” she blurted, lest he get any idea she couldn’t take care of her family.
Aunt Blythe didn’t know about the baby yet and she’d decided to keep that piece of information to herself for the moment.
The older woman had already been upset about having been scammed, and Charlize had had to tell her about the threats on her life. She couldn’t have Blythe walking around a danger zone without knowing to take care. Couldn’t risk having her caught in any crossfire.
“I’ll be driving her out there shortly,” she continued. Lowell was built on both sides of the Flat River, encompassing three city miles with a population of just over four thousand people. Its Main Street was still a place Aunt Blythe and Aunt Grace could safely walk down to have dinner at the local diner. Aunt Grace had lived in the small town for decades, ever since she’d married, and Charlize had many happy memories of visiting the town and attending the famous showboat entertainment that used to run every summer...
“I’ll go with you,” Riley said, interrupting her attempt to get lost in minutiae that felt good—that built up her somewhat depleted sense of control. “And then I want you to come stay with me,” he added, so completely serious and calm, she almost thought she’d misunderstood him.
“What?” She frowned at him. Shook her head. Took a step backward.
Things were just careening too far out of control. She couldn’t find any normal—no matter where she looked.
“You shouldn’t be here alone. CI Headquarters has plenty of room—we had eight of us living there once and managed to get along—and I’m armed and trained. Pal’s there. And I can’t not protect my child. And the woman carrying it. Period. You can ask me to not do so, tell me to not do so, order me to go away and not come back, and I’ll be back, even if it means you filing a restraining order against me...”
Taken aback, but not completely in a negative way, Charlize stared at him. He was half acting like a macho alpha male, and half begging. The combination didn’t compute, and yet there she was, witnessing it.
“I’m hoping you aren’t going to put me through any further distress than we’re already facing, by arguing the point and bringing said restraining order into reality,” he said then, his tone more like himself. Logical. Calm. Controlled.
“Who’s Pal?” She needed time.
Had to think. Something she was finding increasingly difficult anytime Riley Colton was around. Which was one good solid reason why she couldn’t stay with him. Couldn’t do as he’d asked.
There were others, too. They’d come to her as soon as she could think.
“My German shepherd. She’s a trained watch dog, but unless there’s danger around, she tends to forget that. She also doubles pretty well as a vacuum cleaner and floor mop when food’s involved.”
The tough guy had a dog. A dog he clearly adored.
“I’ve told my siblings about you, so if you’re worried about what they’d think, you staying there, there’s no need.”
Falling back against the wall, she leaned. “You told them what about me?”
“That your aunt was scammed by RevitaYou, and that you’re pregnant with my baby.”
“You told them that.”
“I had to. You told Iglesias.”
He’d mentioned something about it earlier, about his sisters being aunts...and there’d be an uncle in the mix, too.
It was all happening too fast.
Which was partially on her. She’d suspected the pregnancy for weeks. Had kept the possibility to herself.
“I had to tell Iglesias. My life is in danger. They had to know that there’s a baby whose life could also be in danger...”
As soon as she said the words, even before she saw his eyes darken, she knew she’d just walked herself right into his plan.
“Did you tell them about the one-night stand, too?” How humiliating. And...stupid.
“Of course not.”
There was no of course about it.
“How this all came to be, that’s between you and me,” he said. “Unless you’ve told someone...”
She shook her head, and he seemed a bit relieved. Not much, but some.
“So...you’ll come stay with me?”
Everything inside her warned against even thinking about doing so.
“I can’t afford not to do as you ask,” she said softly, while her instincts continued to scream at her to find another way. She pushed through them. Forcing herself to focus on the facts, not feelings. Or imaginings. “I can’t afford to hire protection. And I have to take extra precaution because of the baby...”
He took a step forward and she put up her hand. “I’m not happy about this. And the second they find whoever took a shot at me, I’m out of there,” she said. “This isn’t about us being together, in any way. It’s nothing to do with us at all. Or to do with the fact that we’re parents of the same child. I’m in danger. And you’re trained to protect people. That’s all it is.”
She needed that firmly established. And though she hoped he never knew it, she was talking to herself as much as to him. The second he’d offered...she’d wanted to agree with his plan. Regardless of the fact he’d walked out on her, she still gravitated toward the man.
Whatever spell he’d cast the one night they’d been together had long-lasting effect. She took note. Promised herself she wouldn’t forget for a second that the fantasy she’d built around them—around one true love—had come crashing painfully down.
“I’d stay here if it weren’t for the baby,” she added. And knew she was speaking the truth.
For all his earlier wordiness, Riley was suddenly quiet. Changing his mind?
She thought about herself actually in his home. She’d driven by it once, when she’d first begun to suspect she was pregnant. Had thought about telling him.
But she couldn’t get over the way he’d callously walked out on her. After giving no indication, prior in the evening, that all he wanted was a one-night stand. To the contrary, when they’d talked about both liking jazz music, he’d said they’d have to take in a concert together sometime.
“What did your sisters say?” she asked, still leaning on the wall, though Aunt Blythe was going to be expecting her, with Blythe’s packed bag, at Marge’s house within the half hour. “About the baby?”
Riley shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” She stood up, faced him.
With a curious head tilt, almost like he was embarrassed, he said, “I walked out on them.”
Oh.
So it wasn’t just her.
He was that guy—the one who you couldn’t count on to stick around. Period.
She gave him one last look, and then, without another word, went to pack the things her aunt had asked her to bring.