Running Scared (41 page)

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Authors: Lisa Jackson

Tags: #Fiction, #Crime, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Mystery & Detective, #General

BOOK: Running Scared
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“Don’t worry about Alicia,” Robert said. “She has no power.”

“Not after the police get wind of her plans,” Daegan said, heading toward the wide double door. “Alicia might be keeping her father company in the big house, which is where Frank is headed. My source told me Frank is at the police station now. It looks like he’s going to be charged with Stuart’s murder.”

“Frank?” Robert’s throat worked, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Whatever for? You’re the one who killed my boy, O’Rourke. We all knew that.”

Silent wrath glinted in Daegan’s eyes. “Collin confessed today, in front of a handful of witnesses. Apparently he was there, he saw it all, and the guilt has weighed on him for years. Frank did it, Robert. Your brother murdered your only son.”

“I don’t believe you!” Robert railed.

Jon was relieved to feel his mother’s pressure on his shoulder, guiding him out of the room. They were out in the foyer when Daegan answered, “Fine, old man. Live with your lies.”
Just let the old guy sit and rot in his mansion
, Jon thought as the butler swung open the big walnut door for them. It would feel great to say good-bye to these crazies.

And then, he was stepping out into the snow, flanked by Kate and Daegan, his mother and his father. It had been a shitty week, but Jon knew things were going to get better. He’d escaped, he’d found his father, and he was going home. It didn’t get much better than that.

 

Trying to respect Jon’s desires not to be babied, Kate was content to let him wash his swollen wrists at Laura’s house, then douse them with disinfectant. Only when Jon was asleep in Laura’s guest room did Daegan take Kate’s hand and lead her outside, down the stairs, and onto the street. The night was alive with lights and traffic and people hurrying down the street. Despite the mood, Kate pulled up the collar of her jacket and tried to get warm. She felt a loneliness burrowing deep in her soul.

“I don’t know whether I should curse you or thank you,” she said, pulling her hand from his.

“Thank me. That sounds better,” he joked, but she couldn’t scare up a smile.

“Okay, I will. Thanks for finding Jon and bringing him back to me. I…I appreciate it, but I can’t forget that you were the reason he was in danger, that you lied to us both, that you used us, that you were going to accept money for—”

“That wouldn’t have happened.”

“But you didn’t tell me why you were in town, you let me believe that you cared about me, about Jon…” she said, hating the words that tumbled out of her mouth, wishing she could alter the course of the future.

“I did. I do. I always will.”

She touched the side of his face with her chilled fingers and he held them there, against his skin. “I wish I could believe you,” she said.

“So it wouldn’t matter to you if I told you not only was I sorry, but that I wanted to change things.”

The night seemed to grow still. There was a lull in the traffic, and somewhere, not too far away, church bells pealed, resounding through the darkness. “How?” she asked, hardly moving, listening over the sound of her pounding heart.

“I think I’d like to start over. With you. With Jon.”

“With a clean slate?”

“For the most part,” he said, his gaze drifting to her lips.

She trembled, but not from the cold. Oh, Lord, how she wanted to believe him, how she needed to trust him. Tears filled her throat, but she refused to cry, refused to be weak. Yes, she loved him, but he, the liar, the man with the secret past and hidden life, could never be trusted. And who could say how long he’d stay? A drifter by nature, a man who had run from his past for fifteen years.

“No family in Montana? No wife and child?” she taunted.

“There never was either.” He kissed her fingers.

“And all those brothers up in Canada?”

“Nah, they don’t exist.” Another kiss.

“What about the cousins in Boston?” she asked, drawing her hand away.

“They’re a part of my life long over. The only person I care about here is my mother and she won’t see me. Still has her priorities all screwed up and pledges her allegiance to Frank Sullivan, the god of adultery.”

“So you’re alone?” she asked, her heart squeezing.
Trust him, just once more, for God’s sake, Kate, you love him!

“Yeah.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you like it that way?”

“’Cause I did,” he admitted, his words gruff. “Then I met you and it changed everything.”

Nervously she licked her lips and his jaw grew hard as granite. “But not enough to tell the truth.”

“I couldn’t.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the vision of his rough-hewn face. Staring into his night-shadowed eyes, the lamplight and snow swirling around them, she almost gave in to the wayward wishes of her heart.

“Kate,” he whispered roughly as his strong arms circled her, drawing her close. His breath feathered across her hair. “Don’t you know that I love you?”

“No, Daegan, don’t,” she said firmly.

“But I do and I will forever, but I won’t ask twice. Marry me, Kate. Say you’ll be my wife.” His lips found hers then and she fought the sobs building in her throat. Warm and solid, his body seemed to shield her from the elements, and she was lost in a swirl of emotions that ripped at her soul and stole all denial from her mind.

Love him, just love him,
her willful heart pleaded.
You’ll never find a love like this again.

Never trust him again,
her mind insisted.
He’ll only lie to you and hurt your son.

“I—I can’t do this,” she cried, pushing away from him. “Please, Daegan, understand.”

He stood for a second under the blue light of the streetlamp, and in that instant she witnessed a change in him, the stiffening of his spine, the squaring of broad shoulders, the pride in the jut of his chin, the sudden condemning censure in his gaze, and most of all, the hardening of his heart.

“Never,” he said.

“But Jon—”

“He knows where to find me. It’s up to you whether I see him again.” A tic moved a muscle in his jaw. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets and started walking away. Wrapping her arms around her middle to ward off the emptiness in her soul, she heard his voice. “And if you don’t want to see me, I won’t bother you again, Kate,” he vowed, not even glancing over his shoulder as she crumbled inside. “Never again.”

 

“If I ever hear of you going near that boy or sending anyone else, I’ll personally come down here and pay you back tenfold,” Daegan promised, his voice filled with malice. His eyes were bright with hatred as he stood on the other side of the threshold, his fists clenched, his face set in harsh determination. Snow swirled around him, and the fury radiating from him was nearly palpable.

Alicia swallowed hard and thought of Wade, her precious son. She couldn’t believe that Daegan would actually hurt him, but then again, what did she know about the bastard? How ruthless was O’Rourke? How much did he care about his own illegitimate son? The man could be a raving maniac, a savage for all she knew.

“I was just…just protecting Wade’s interests.”

“By trying to kill his cousin,” Daegan said in a voice of deadly calm. But that serenity was belied by the tic beneath his eye and the cords bulging in his neck. Grudgingly she realized that he was a handsome man, a ruthless man, and a man who should never be crossed. Not that she would lay a finger on Jon Summers now. The idiot didn’t want to be a part of the Sullivan dynasty, and Robert had given up playing mentor to the little bastard, what with the detectives swarming around the entire Sullivan family, sniffing out facts on the boy’s kidnapping and even digging back to Stuart’s death eons ago.

It was all a tangled, sordid mess, one which Alicia had fended off with flat denials. No, she didn’t know a Neils VanHorn. No, she’d never had contact with the man. (Thank God she’d met him in anonymous bars!) Did she ever offer him money to kill Jon Summers? Well, that was just laughable! Ludicrous. Preposterous.

“Mommy?” Wade’s voice called from the top of the stairs. She glanced over her shoulder and saw his precious face peering through the rails. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, honey, it’s…it’s fine. You just go on back to your room and I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Who’s he?” Wade asked, his gaze trained on Daegan.

The devil,
Alicia thought,
rising straight from the depths of hell!
“He’s…he just stopped by to give Mommy some advice and wish her a happy holiday.”

“Happy holidays,” Daegan mocked.

Satisfied, Wade shrugged and headed back to his bedroom.

“You stay away from my boy,” she hissed, cold, angry fear burning in her heart.

Daegan’s laugh was brutal. “I don’t want anything to do with him, but you keep away from Jon, because if anything happens to Jon,
anything,
I swear, Alicia, you’ll wish you’d never been born.”

He glanced up at the empty hallway. “Wade’s got nothing to fear from me, but you do,
sister,
you do. Remember that.”

“Oh, don’t be so damned dramatic,” Alicia said. “The only reason I was interested in Jon Summers was because Robert wanted to make him an heir. Now with that bit of insanity over, I could care less about your precious bastard.”

“Then we’re on the same page,” Daegan said. He turned away, calling over his shoulders, “And Happy New Year.”

A breath of cold air danced into the room and Alicia slammed the door shut, blocking out the image of his deadly face, the silent accusations in his eyes. Trembling, she leaned against the door and caught her breath. Didn’t anyone understand? Didn’t they know that she only did what she did for her darling son?

“Honey,” she called, her voice shaking as she mounted the stairs. She was at the landing when she heard the garage door go up.

Daegan!
Oh, God, he’d changed his mind and was back. She ran down the stairs, nearly stumbling, kicking off one of her high heels. Sprinting through the kitchen, she grabbed the first weapon she saw, a fillet knife from the rack, and stood poised, ready to do damage when the door opened and Bryan entered.

“Oh,” she said, “I didn’t know it was you, I—”

Her husband stopped dead in his tracks, keys and briefcase in his hand, the shoulders of his wool coat dusted with snow. “I just got a call from our attorney,” Bryan said, licking his lips nervously, “and I didn’t understand all of it, but he was very concerned. There was something about you facing charges for conspiracy or kidnapping or something.”

“No—nothing’s been filed. It’s all a big mistake.”

“But you called him?”

“What I told him was in confidence.”

“I’m your husband, Alicia, or have you forgotten?” Bryan asked, his lips folded in on themselves.

“No, Bry, I think you’re the one who forgot.” Tears filled her eyes. “A long time ago.”

 

Grumbling under his breath, Jon tossed another log onto the fire and didn’t even manage a smile as the flames licked and crackled against the pitch and moss.

Their Christmas tree, a small pine, was decorated, lights shining merrily with frosty bulbs of blue, yellow, red, and green, and several packages with bright ribbons were scattered underneath.

Christmas Eve and they seemed so alone, so apart from the world. If only Laura and Jeremy had decided to visit, Kate thought as she poured Jon and her each an eggnog. Since she had no parents and was estranged from her aunt and uncle and Jon’s family…well, she hadn’t heard from the Sullivans since returning from Boston. Just today, on Christmas Eve, her attorney had called and said the new documents were on their way; it would take time for all the adoption paperwork to be complete, but it looked like smooth sailing.

“Here you go,” she said, handing Jon a glass cup of the frothy eggnog.

“Any booze in it?” he asked.

“Oh, right, I added three shots,” she teased.

“But I’m almost—”

“Still far away from being legal,” she said. He took the cup but she noticed his restlessness, knew something was bothering him, and could guess what it was. Hadn’t she felt the same pangs of despair for the last couple of days? It was Daegan or the lack of him that had changed the tenor of her days, even though Kate knew that he was still just a field away, through the trees and across the snowy landscape to Eli’s old cabin. Her throat grew thick with a lump she couldn’t swallow, and she noticed Jon staring out the window that faced the McIntyre acres.

It’s better this way,
she told herself though she hadn’t seen or heard from her neighbor ever since flying home from Boston. She knew he was there—she had spied his rattletrap of a truck and the horses—but he was probably getting ready to move. The word in town was that the McIntyre place was still for sale and Eli’s heirs would be satisfied with another tenant if they couldn’t find a buyer.

“Come on, a toast, on Christmas Eve,” she said, clicking the rim of her cup to his. “May all your Christmas wishes come true.”

He scowled and didn’t meet her eyes, just stared into his cup as if reading tea leaves in the thick opaque depths. Eventually, he took a long sip. “Christmas wishes are for little kids.”

“Something’s bothering you,” Kate finally said, deciding that it was time to face whatever was troubling him head-on, even though she inwardly guessed at his answer. Her fingers tightened around her cup as Jon finished his drink and paced from one room to the other. Houndog, his fur less patchy, tagged after him, a tennis ball in his mouth, his tail wagging as if he hoped Jon would finally get some brains and play fetch.

“Just a feeling.”

“You had a nightmare last night.”

He slid a glance in her direction and frowned. “Yeah.”

“About?”

“Todd.”

“I thought he was expelled.” Kate didn’t believe Jon’s restlessness had to do with the Neider boy. No, she knew the real reason, the same reason she couldn’t sleep at night.

“He was, but he’s still in town,” Jon said, rubbing the back of his neck in agitation. He set his cup on the mantel and kicked at another tennis ball. Houndog scampered frantically to the other end of the house, finally catching the ball under the dining room table.

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