I don’t admit this to my mother, but in my case, when it comes to my father, there’s a fine line between revenge and closure. I also had no intention of going alone to DC. Not in my condition. I need backup. And there’s only one person I trust.
I text Calvin. I need a favor that has nothing to do with the baby. Can you spare a few minutes today?
Because today is Saturday, I expect him to be hanging out with Brenda. And I’m surprised when he responds immediately. I’m at the station catching up on paperwork. I’ll meet you at Starbucks in 30 mins.
I give his text a thumbs-up and head out to my truck. I’m waiting in a booth with a cup of tea when he arrives. He grabs a coffee and joins me. “What’s up?”
“My mother made a sudden reappearance in my life,” I say, and tell him everything, including my idea to entrap my father.
“So, you’re planning to bait him,” Calvin says.
“Pretty much. I have to do this, Calvin. He’s an evil man. Because of him, my mother has spent the last twenty-four years on the run. Because of him, Jason and I grew up in foster care. There’s no telling how many other lives he’s ruined.”
“I get that you’re angry, Jolie. You have every right to be. But you’re pregnant. And what you’re proposing is dangerous. Extremely dangerous. Why confront him? Why not turn everything over to the press and let them expose him?”
“Where’s the fun in that? Are you going to help me or not?”
He points a finger at my belly. “Only because that baby you’re carrying is mine,” Calvin says with sparks shooting like daggers from his golden eyes.
“Great. I’ll be in touch about the when and where,” I say, sliding out of the booth.
“Wait! Where’re you going? I need to know more about your plan.”
“I’ll tell you on the way to DC.” I leave Calvin sitting in the booth alone. If he knows what I’m planning, he’ll try to convince me to abort my mission. And I have no intention of doing that.
I spend the rest of the afternoon helping my mother move her things over from the Jefferson Hotel. She’ll live with me until this situation with the senator plays out. For the first twenty-four hours, we tiptoe around each other, but we soon settle into a comfortable routine as roommates. The condo feels less lonely with her here, Jason’s room less like a tomb.
I’d worried unnecessarily about having to entertain my mother. She works sixteen hours a day, writing and marketing her novels. During the free time she affords herself, she works out in our building’s small fitness facility and makes elaborate meals for me. She’s a fabulous cook, and I don’t complain. We’re not mother and daughter yet. Nor are we friends. But we’re roommates, and that’s a start.
If only I knew what to call her. My tongue gets hung up on the word Mom. She’s Clara to her readers, and Sonya to those who knew her when. For now, I’ll avoid calling her anything.
A phone call to the senator’s DC office provides the information I need to proceed with my mission. The senator will be in Washington until Thursday of this week at which time he’ll travel home to Austin for a long weekend. I text Calvin, alerting him to our departure time of four o’clock on Wednesday afternoon.
After work on Monday, I go to Home Depot and purchase a simple security system that will blast a loud siren and notify the police should an intruder break in through our front door. I spend the evening hours working on my podcast. I present the documented evidence my mother provides, and I interview her about the physical abuse she suffered at the hands of my father. My mother comes across as sincere in the video. That she’s Clara Thomas, the mysterious romance author whom no one has ever seen, adds legitimacy to her story. I send a copy of the video to Albert Campbell in Austin with instructions for him to release it to the press in the event something happens to me.
When I call Albert, to put him on alert for potential trouble at the end of the week, he says, “I’m fully invested in taking this bastard down. I’ll jump on a plane in a heartbeat if you need me.”
“That means a lot. Hopefully, it won’t come to that. But if it does, you’re the first person I’ll call.”
I request the day off on Wednesday. I spend the morning going over and over the details of my plan until I’ve committed them to memory. My mother and I are seated at the kitchen island, eating a bowl of her homemade vegetable soup for lunch, when a wave of guilt overcomes me. She’s spent years running from danger, and I’m willingly placing her in the line of fire.
“It’s not too late to back out,” I say. “If you leave now, you’ll be halfway to Vermont by the time I arrive in Washington.”
She vehemently shakes her head. “No way. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here waiting for you when you get back.”
“Ugh. Now I know where I get my stubbornness.”
She gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Damn straight. And don’t you forget it.”
“Do you know how to shoot a handgun? If so, Jason’s is in a lockbox on the top shelf of his closet.”
Sliding off her barstool, she retrieves her purse from the table by the door where she left it when she returned from the market earlier. She removes a holstered Sig Sauer pistol. “I bought this years ago. I’m actually a decent shot. You don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
I unholster the gun, checking to make certain the barrel is empty, and hand it back to her. “Keep this with you at all times while I’m gone.”
Around three o’clock, I dress in black—leggings, a boatneck tunic, and low-heeled booties. At three thirty, my mother walks me to the door.
She cups my cheek. “Please be careful, sweetheart. And just so you know, if something were to happen to me, I have encrypted backup files of all the documents on my computer and another set in a safe deposit box in Vermont.”
“And you have Albert’s contact information if something happens to me.”
She tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Nothing’s going to happen to either of us. I just got you back. I’m not letting you go again.”
Calvin is waiting in front of the station when I swing by to pick him up. He tosses a bulletproof vest into the back and gets in the front beside me.
“Who’s that for?” I ask, tossing my thumb over my shoulder at the vest.
He cuts his amber eyes at me. “You. Either you wear it, or I don’t go.”
“Fine. I’ll put it on when we get to DC.” I speed off through the streets of downtown to the interstate.
Neither of us speaks for the first twenty miles. Finally, Calvin breaks the silence. “Seriously, Jolie. I have a bad feeling about this. I did some digging. The senator is a really bad dude.”
“Exactly. Believe it or not, he’s on the long list of presidential candidates. We can’t put an evil man like that in the White House.”
I turn up the volume on the classic rock station, and for the rest of the way, I focus on the mission ahead of me.
As expected, the drive to DC at this time of day takes over three hours. I navigate the congested traffic to a luxury apartment building in Dupont Circle. I enter the parking garage and find an empty space on the ground level.
“Are you going to tell me the plan now?” Calvin asks.
“Just follow my lead.” I open my car door and slide off the seat to my feet. Turning to face the truck, I tug my tunic over my head. I feel Calvin’s eyes on my swollen belly as I adjust the bulletproof vest to fit my torso. I put my shirt back on, strap on a shoulder holster, and slide my arms into a long black puffer vest. I drop a switchblade and set of handcuffs in one pocket and a folded sheet of paper in the other. I buckle a black belt around me, which has handguns in holsters on each hip. “Let’s do this thing,” I say, and march off toward the elevator.
I punch a code into the keypad, and the elevator doors part.
Calvin’s jaw drops. “How’d you manage that?”
“My cop friend in Austin has deep connections.” On the ride up to the tenth floor, I say, “According to his agenda, Pearson should arrive home from an early business dinner in about thirty minutes.”
Calvin picks the lock at number 136, and we scout out the apartment, which is handsomely furnished with priceless antiques. But there are few personal touches. No family photographs. Only a handful of suits hang in the closet. No food in the refrigerator aside from a chunk of moldy cheddar cheese.
I’m seated in the dark on the couch, and Calvin is hiding in the coat closet in the small foyer when the senator arrives home. He flips on the light and starts toward the bedroom hall. He doesn’t see me, and when I say, “Evening, Senator,” he jumps back, his hand pressed to his chest.
He quickly composes himself. “Who are you, and why are you in my apartment?”
I stand and cross the room to him. Despite his age, he’s even more handsome in person. He’s elegantly dressed in gray flannel slacks and a tailor-made navy sport coat. He carries an air of power and wealth about him that makes him a formidable figure. “Look closely. Are you sure you don’t know who I am?”
I watch for his reaction. Aside from a pulsing vein in his temple, he doesn’t flinch. “Jolene Hogan. My darling daughter, we meet at last. It took you long enough to locate me.” Pearson makes a tsk tsk sound with his tongue. “And you call yourself an investigator.”
“You are an egomaniac, aren’t you? Truth is, I haven’t been looking for you. In fact, I didn’t know you existed until a few days ago. My mother is the one I yearned for all those years I spent in foster care. I’ve never thought much about my biological father. I certainly have no memories of you. Good thing too. Memories of a father beating one’s mother can cause irreparable psychological damage to a child. Coincidentally, I’ve seen documented proof of that abuse. I don’t imagine your constituents would approve of how you treated your mistress. Even if it happened over two decades ago.”
Pearson’s jaw tightens, and he slips his hand in his pocket.
“What’re you doing?” My gaze shifts slightly to the right, and over his shoulder, I see Calvin emerge from the coat closet.
“I’m calling my assistant,” Pearson says, looking down at his phone as he taps on the screen. “To let him know he forgot to take out the trash.”
Sneaking up on him from behind, Calvin wraps an arm around the senator’s neck and presses the barrel of his handgun to his temple. “Drop the phone.”
The senator’s hands shoot up, and the phone falls to the Oriental rug with a thud.
“Who are you?” Pearson asks, squirming as he tries to get a glimpse of his captor.
Calvin tightens his grip on the senator. “I’m the father of Jolie’s unborn baby.”
I smooth my hand over my belly. “It’s hard to tell I’m pregnant under this bulletproof vest. Congratulations, Senator! You’re gonna be a granddaddy.”
He pins me against the wall with his death stare. “What do you want?”
“Funny you should mention that.” I remove the folded sheet of paper from my pocket. “Since I found out about you a few days ago, I’ve been doing a lot of research. What I learned disappointed me. You’ve been a very naughty senator. And I want you to confess your sins.”
The color drains from Pearson’s face.
“Don’t worry. I have no intention of releasing your confession to the media.” I raise my hand, finger pointed at the ceiling. “Except in the event something happens to my mother or me. In which case, your confession will immediately be released to the media. I believe they call it a dead man’s switch. In my case, a dead woman’s switch.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I shrug. “That’s your problem. Now . . .” I circle the room. “I think the lighting will be best with you seated on the sofa.”
When I give Calvin the nod, he wrestles Pearson over to the sofa. I hand the senator the sheet of paper and step back with my phone’s camera focused on him. “When I say cheese, you start reading.”
Pearson looks down at the paper and back up at me. “I need my reading glasses.”
“Of course. Where are they?”
“In the inside top pocket of my coat. May I?”
When Pearson moves his hand inside his blazer, Calvin pounces on him. Frisking him, Calvin removes a container of mace from his pocket along with the reading glasses. He tosses the reading glasses in the senator’s lap and pockets the mace. “Try another stunt like that, Senator, and I will shoot you dead.”
I click the Record button and say, “Cheese.”
Pearson’s hands shake as he reads the statement I’ve prepared outlining some of the worst crimes he’s gotten away with over the years, including extortion and money laundering and treason.
When he’s finished, I click the red button, ending the recording session. My phone makes a swish sound as I forward the video to Albert.
Eyes on my phone, Pearson says, “Who’d you send that to?”
“Someone I trust to keep it safe.” I toss the handcuffs at Calvin. “Will you do the honor?”
Calvin forces Pearson onto his stomach and cuffs his hands behind his back. Placing Pearson’s phone on the coffee table, I shatter the screen with the butt of my pistol. We turn out the lights as we exit the apartment. Silence fills the elevator on the way down. My adrenaline is pumping, but Calvin’s tight expression lets me know he’s pissed.
“You realize you just signed your own death warrant,” he says when we get in the truck. “Not only have you put your own life in danger but the lives of our unborn child and your mother as well.”
“Your job is done, Calvin. Let me worry about our lives.”
“You’re a hard-ass, Jolene,” he says, and I detect a note of admiration in his tone.
“Takes one to know one,” I say, and start the engine.
“I saw the glint in your eye. You enjoyed torturing him. That’s sick, Jolie. Make no bones about it. Pearson will come after you.”
I put the truck in reverse. “And I’ll be ready.”
We leave the parking deck, and at the first stoplight, I thumb off a text to my mom. Mission accomplished. We’re on the way home.
The traffic has thinned considerably, and we cruise through the downtown streets to the expressway. Replaying the encounter over and over in my mind, I’m elated by the outcome. Pearson was scared out of his mind. There’s always a chance he won’t retaliate. But I hope he does. I want nothing more than to make him pay for ruining my childhood, for making my mother live in fear all those years. Besides, the citizens of Texas deserve better from their elected officials.
Calvin and I don’t speak again until Fredericksburg. “I’m starving,” he says. “Can we stop for food?”
I realize I’m famished as well. I haven’t eaten since lunch. “Sure. But we’ll have to go through a drive-through. I want to get home to my mom.”
I take the next highway exit and follow directions to Chick-fil-A. “Dinner’s on me,” I say as we pull up to the menu board.
“Ooh. Big spender,” Calvin says and tells me his order.
Ten minutes later, we’re cruising south on the interstate, stuffing waffle fries in our mouths, when Calvin declares, “I intend on being a part of this child’s life.”
“That’s not necessary, Calvin. You’re under no obligation.”
“I don’t feel obligated. I view raising a child an honor.”
“Raising a child alone won’t be easy. I need people I can count on. After the way you treated me, I doubt I’ll ever be able to trust you again.”
Calvin stops chewing, his bite of sandwich forming a lump in his cheek. “Seriously? I just saved your ass.”
True. I couldn’t have done it alone. “Okay, I’ll give you five brownie points. You have ninety-five more to earn.”
Calvin finishes chewing. “I tried to explain to you outside of the station that day, but you wouldn’t listen. You and I have more in common than being hard-asses. We’re kindred spirits. I’ve never experienced such a strong connection with anyone other than my sister. My feelings for you were scaring the hell out of me. And I ran.”
“Right into Brenda’s arms.”
“Touché. I don’t understand why women fall all over me.”
I risk a glance at him. His expression is one of complete bewilderment. He totally doesn’t get it. “Do you think it’s because you encourage them?”
He shrugs. “Sometimes, maybe. But not always.”
My eyes return to the road. “I’m in love with someone else, Calvin.” I don’t know what makes me say this. Perhaps the same fear Calvin experienced the night I kissed him.
“Oh, yeah? Who?” he asks, eyeing me suspiciously as he sucks on his straw.
“No one you know,” I say, thinking of Drew. Is it true? Is it possible I’m in love with Drew? I was feeling something for him before . . . Could it have been love?
“How long have you been together?” Calvin asks, and I know what he’s thinking.
I consider lying to him, but he saved my butt tonight, and I owe him the truth. “I started seeing him right before Jason died. But we’ve never slept together.”
“What—”
I hold out my palm, shutting him up. “Give me a chance to explain before you interrogate me. I was messed up after Jason died. You saw me. You know. This guy, the one I’m in love with, tried to comfort me, and I turned him away. He hasn’t spoken to me since he found out I’m pregnant.”
Calvin’s face lights up. “So, he’s not in the picture. Which means I have a chance.”
“Why would you want to be with me when I’m in love with another guy?”
“Because I don’t believe you’re in love with him.” He drags his fingertips up my forearm, sending chills all over my body. “We could be really good together, Jolie.”
I jerk my arm away. “I can’t worry about this right now. Not until this Senator Pearson thing is over.”
“That’s fair,” Calvin says. “Just don’t shut me out again.”
“Shut you out? You’re the one who shut me out.” I look over at him. There’s a smirk on his lips. He’s teasing me. “I’ve missed your friendship, Calvin. And I want my baby to know his father as long as said father can be a positive role model. But you and I can never be in a relationship. Even if you earn a thousand brownie points.”
“We’ll see about that,” he says with that devilish smile I find hard to resist.
“I’m not kidding, Calvin. We’re too much alike. We’d be butting heads all the time. We’d make each other miserable.”
“Maybe. Or maybe we’d make each other blissfully happy. One thing’s for sure, our lives would never be boring.”
I remind myself to stay focused. Too many lives depend on it right now. “I’m going for an ultrasound on Friday. My mom is going with me, but you’re welcome to come too.”
“Seriously? I’ll be there. Text me the details.”
I wag my finger at him. “I’m warning you in advance. We’re not finding out the sex. I want to be surprised.”
He nods. “That’s fine. I’d rather be surprised too.”
I pull up alongside the curb outside the parking deck across from headquarters and shift in my seat toward him. “All joking aside, I’m grateful to you for helping me tonight.”
“I’m not joking either when I say I’m worried about you, your mom, and the baby. You’ve unleashed the wrath of a very dangerous man. If anything happens, you call me anytime during the day or night.” He kisses my cheek and gets out of the truck.
As I pull away from the curb, the feel of his lips lingers on my face, and his words ring out in my head. Or maybe we’d make each other blissfully happy. I’d hope we’d one day resume our friendship, but he’s suggesting so much more. For the rest of the short ride home, I allow myself to consider the possibility of a serious romantic relationship between us. Calvin’s ability to be faithful to only one woman is my primary concern.
My mother is waiting for me when I get home. We sit together on the sofa, and I walk her through the showdown with my father. “We have to be very careful these next few days, Mom. Whatever we do, we can’t let our guards down.”
She flashes a Cheshire Cat grin at me.
“Why are you smiling? I’m being serious. We’re in danger.”
“You just called me Mom.”
My eyes widen. “I did? Is that okay?”
She puts an arm around me. “More than okay.”
I tense at first, but when she pulls me in close, I relax against her body. I close my eyes and the years melt away. We’re on the sofa in our rundown apartment in Austin. Jason is on her other side, and she’s reading us a book. Goodnight Moon. We were four or five years old. I look up adoringly at her. She has a black eye. No doubt from my father’s hand. She never let us sense her fear. She kept us safe until she could no longer protect us. And then she gave us to someone who could.
She kisses my hair, and I snuggle in closer. At long last, we’re mother and daughter again.
Near my ear, she says, “You had a visitor while you were gone.”
I furrow my brow. “A visitor? Who?”
“A charming young man named Drew.”