The Protectors of Riker County
Billy chanced a look of mild exasperation.
“You know, he’s not a bad guy. He single-handedly brought that town out of poverty. Not to mention he decided to make it his home. With all that money he could have his own island somewhere, but he chose Bates Hill, Alabama. That’s got to count for something.” Billy’s brow drew in. The look didn’t last long. “Though what he did for you is enough to say he’s okay in my book for life. I don’t understand why you’re still so against him.”
Suzy crossed her arms over her chest. She felt defiant. Protective. And she was trying to hide the scar between her breasts, even though her shirt was already covering it.
“I don’t trust him for the same reasons you like him,” she said simply. “His life trajectory doesn’t make sense. A trust-fund kid, party animal, gives the tabloids enough material for years before disappearing. Then bam! He shows up to a smaller-than-small town to put it back on the map ten years ago with no reason other than he just wanted to do something good?” She shook her head. “Sounds like a movie I wouldn’t even rent.”
“Just because we don’t know his life story doesn’t mean you should write him off.” Billy’s face softened. “And just because Bates Hill and its residents are under our jurisdiction doesn’t mean we need to know all of their secrets.”
“True,” she conceded. “But then, why was he out there that day, Billy? Why was James Callahan, of all people, at an abandoned saw manufacturing warehouse that just so happened to house the body of a murdered Gardner Todd?”
Billy’s eyebrows knit together. No matter what he said next, Suzy knew he wasn’t buying what he was selling. At least, not all the way.
“He was looking at real estate for one of his businesses. We even verified it with his attorney who showed up afterward. You already know that, and still you don’t believe him.”
It wasn’t a question. Still, she responded to it.
“I believe that money can buy a lot of things,” she said. “Including the loyalty of everyone around here. For all we know, his attorney spun the exact tale he wanted him to.”
“So you think, what? James hired Lester McGibbon to kill Gardner and then shoot you?”
Suzy could tell that Billy didn’t like being blunt about her being shot. It had been four months—four long months—and she still didn’t like it, either. That bullet hadn’t just hit her; it had very nearly killed her. Even now, she was still technically on leave from the department, unable to do field work for another month.
“No, I don’t think he hired Lester,” she admitted. “But I do think he’s connected to Gardner. Somehow. And he’s hiding it.”
“Then what better reason than to go tonight? You can represent us and satisfy your curiosity.”
Suzy tilted her head to see if she had heard him right. “You’re saying you’d be okay with me asking him some questions?”
Billy nodded. “If you think there’s something there, beyond the answers he’s already given us all, then who am I to stop you?” He crossed his arms over his chest, his expression suddenly stern. “Just whatever prodding you do, please keep it reasonable.”
Suzy couldn’t help but smirk. “When have I ever been unreasonable?”
The sheriff was smart. He didn’t answer.
* * *
QUESO WENT FIVE over the speed limit. James decided not to comment. Though the urge to get beneath the teen’s skin almost won out.
Teen. That was what James really figured the dark-haired boy was. A teen who worked for an up-and-coming criminal organization that was tapping into white-collar crimes.
James wanted to give him a speech, to question his motives and push the boy to create different life goals, but then he remembered himself at that age and couldn’t bring himself to deliver any lectures. What advice could he really give the boy that would ring true? He doubted repeating the speech James had gotten from his father all those years ago would light the fire that had moved him.
It had only been chance that, after his father had stopped yelling, the younger James had run into the bar where Corbin Griffin had been spending his last free night before taking off to San Antonio for basic training. The then twenty-year-old had shown James a way to prove himself outside of fame and fortune.
His joining the Air Force had surprised everyone; finding purpose and peace during his time with them had surprised him. Nine years after leaving, James still felt that swell of pride and gratitude for the time spent at his Special Operations job. Even when things had gotten hairy.
No, Queso needed his own Corbin Griffin. James doubted he would listen to him. Still, he wasn’t going to say nothing. After the car rolled to a stop in the parking lot James’s truck was in, he drew back and met the teen’s stare.
“I don’t know if Sully will get your help on what I’m looking for or not, but either way, it could be dangerous,” he warned. “I suggest you stay away from it, but I’m sure that might only make you want to do it even more. Either way, if things get too hairy, you can reach me here.” James pulled a card from his wallet. It had a different number on it than the one he’d given to Sully. “Or if you just want a different option altogether.” He shrugged. “A few of my companies have scholarship programs that could use hardworking entrepreneurs. If that falls into your wheelhouse.”
Queso cut a grin. “Haven’t been called an entrepreneur before,” he said. “Doubt a fancy title like that would even stick to someone like me. Don’t you think?” Sarcasm. It blanketed his tone and posture. An invisible defense mechanism that James himself had used many times before in his youth. “Why don’t you run along there, Padre, and leave your troubles to the boss?”
James got out of the car, hands up in defense. He left the card on the seat. Queso eyed it but didn’t say anything. Maybe that was a good sign.
James finally got what he was hoping for. As he watched the little Miata take off down the road, thoughts of Suzanne Simmons were replaced by Gardner Todd.
And his killer.
If he could find out who wanted him dead, then maybe he could figure out Gardner’s secret.
What did you want to tell me, brother?
Chapter Two
Suzy stood on the fringe of the crowd, pondering life.
Not in general, of course—she didn’t have the patience for that one, or the right amount of caffeine in her, either—but on her own life. More important, the path that had led her, along with the Riker County Sheriff’s Department, through the thickest of thicks and the thinnest of thins, all the way to standing on a rug that probably cost more than her two-bedroom rental.
It was a solid piece of decoration, almost as big as the foyer, and most likely heavy as the dickens. Without even attempting to lift the thing, Suzy could feel its weight in her muscles. While she struggled with biting the bullet and buying a rug from Target, James Callahan had probably imported the thing from Sweden or somewhere equally expensive.
It made her want to grind her teeth. And make sure to keep her heels off it, if possible. Her mother had taught her to respect others’ property. Even if she didn’t respect the people who owned it.
Suzy sighed. She probably did need to cut the man who had saved her some slack. Whether he lived in a mansion or a shack shouldn’t matter. He’d killed the man who had tried to kill her and then kept her from bleeding out in the dirt. He had also visited her in the hospital more than a few times. And when he couldn’t come, he’d sent flowers. But no matter how nice the man was, it was hard to reciprocate when you knew he was lying.
“If you keep making that face, it might get stuck like that.”
Suzy turned to a woman she’d been hoping to see when tasked with attending the social.
“Well, if it isn’t Mrs. Reed, fashionably late, of course.”
Billy’s wife, Mara, beamed but didn’t deny the accusation. Instead, she pointed to her protruding belly.
“I blame this kid of mine,” she replied. “He’s been tap-dancing on my bladder all day. You’re lucky Leigh got us here when she did. We had to stop as soon as we got into town for a bathroom break.”
Leigh Cullen was Mara’s business partner and friend; together they ran an interior-design firm in Carpenter. Over the last year it had really taken off. They were currently designing an office-complex opening in the heart of Bates Hill. While Suzy knew Mara wasn’t a fan of fancy parties and schmoozing, she knew it was hard to pass up a chance to meet James Callahan in his own home. He might have been a millionaire, but he rarely opened his house to the public.
Now Suzy couldn’t help but wonder why.
A hush fell over the crowd before she could voice the question. The man of the hour appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Mistrust aside, Suzy felt her focus snap to attention.
James Callahan was a man you immediately thought about taking to bed. At least, Suzy did. He was tall, broad shouldered and admittedly good-looking. He wore his black hair short, cropped above the ears with some height at the top. It made him look authoritative and crisp. The consummate businessman. Yet the most attractive thing about him, for Suzy at least, was the charm behind every smile. That was his weapon. And that was what he wielded against the audience.
“First of all, I want to thank each and every one of you for coming out,” he began, crystal-blue eyes scanning the people closest to him. Town council members, the local police and fire chiefs, and the mayor. The “it” people of Bates Hill. “I know it’s been a stressful year, so I’m glad that I was able to offer up some levity by way of a party. You all work very hard to make sure this town stays afloat, and for that, I say thank you. And, as a token of my appreciation, instead of boring you with a speech, how about this—” He scooped a champagne flute off a waitress’s tray at the base of the stairs and held it up. “Please make sure you take advantage of the food, drinks and live music on the patio! And have fun!”
He cast that charming smile out to the crowd as a whole. Its effect spread quickly. Soon even Mara was grinning.
“I think that man could read the alphabet and people would cheer,” she whispered. Suzy snorted but didn’t look away. James’s gaze swept over her and then stopped. Heat rose from her belly, but she tried her best to keep it from reaching her cheeks.
“Why don’t we go check out that food?” Suzy suggested, breaking the stare.
She might have had questions for the man, but now that she was here, she needed time to collect her thoughts.
It didn’t help that James Callahan looked damn good in a suit.
* * *
THE PARTY WAS going better than he’d expected. It was nearing ten at night, and most of the attendees were still there, the party in full swing. They rotated in and out of the house, splitting their time between dancing, drinking and mingling. Most did, at least. James noticed the chief deputy kept the same glass and company for most of the party. Only briefly did she step out to talk to the police and fire chiefs before they left.
James was surprised at how much of his attention Suzanne kept without even trying. Even when carrying on his own conversations, he felt hyperaware of her presence. Like she was a glowing blip on his radar. A sound he always heard. A woman he couldn’t ignore.
It was surprising at best, distracting at worst.
The way her brow furrowed when she was having a particularly serious talk and the small smile she wore when he bet she was trying to be polite were details that filtered in seconds after he found her again in the crowd. She seemed most comfortable with the sheriff’s wife and her friend. When talking to them, her body language changed to become more relaxed, more animated. She’d tuck her long dark hair behind her ear or widen her brown eyes before laughing. He knew those eyes were the color of honey in the right light.
He’d looked down into them when holding her bleeding body.
James had wanted to approach her the moment he saw her in the crowd, but given the cold shoulder she’d shown him for the last four months, he decided to keep his distance. She didn’t trust him, that much he could tell.
And she had every right.
Because Gardner Todd wasn’t just some thug gunned down as justice for his past deeds.
He was James’s brother.
“Mr. Callahan.”
James turned to one of his friends who ran security for his events. Douglas was several inches shorter and as bald as a worn tire. James had once seen him body slam a man much bigger than either of them like it was a breeze.
“I told you not to call me that,” James said after excusing himself from the group he had been in. “Makes me feel old.”
Douglas snorted. “Just wait until I tell you who just called me and what it was about.” James already felt the sigh coming out of his mouth before Douglas could explain.
“Let me guess—it starts with Chelsea and ends with pain-in-my-backside.”
Douglas laughed. “You got it, boss.”
James rolled his eyes but didn’t feel any real annoyance. He flipped his smartwatch around to see the date.
“Considering her bio lab test was last week, I’m assuming this call has something to do with the grade she got on it?”
But Douglas kept tight-lipped. “She wants you to call her back after the party,” he said. “And told me I’m not allowed to tell you one way or the other.”
James couldn’t help but laugh. “I should worry how easily my sister wraps you around her finger, but then again, I’m there, too.” He clapped Douglas on the shoulder. “I’ll go call her now. I didn’t help her study for that lab every weekend for the last month for nothing. Keep this party going in my absence. If anyone asks where I went, just tell them I’m in the wine cellar getting toasted.”
It was Douglas’s turn to laugh as James left the main room and went to the small set of stairs in the kitchen. He bounded up them two at a time and headed toward his office. He pulled out his cell phone and was calling before he even reached the doorway.
* * *
SUZY WATCHED AS James was pulled from his conversation by a member of the security team. Whatever the situation was, it didn’t appear to be serious, yet after they were done the man of the hour left the party. Curiosity filled her so quickly that before she had time to process what she was doing, Suzy had excused herself from Mara’s side and followed the millionaire.
Billy’s request that she question James within reason repeated in the back of her mind as she waited a few seconds before going up the stairs behind him. She walked slowly to keep her heels from making a sound until she was standing in the upstairs hallway. If James caught her now, she figured she could come up with a valid excuse for following him. Yet she found her feet stalling on the landing.
What exactly was she hoping to find?
Did she really expect the man to buckle beneath her questions, giving up answers that she had been looking for?
Suzy felt a swirl of adrenaline in her gut. Something she’d often experienced out in the field. A feeling she’d been missing for the last four months. For one small moment, she reveled in how it made her heart beat faster, her senses more alert and her mind more clear.
If James really was involved with what had happened to Gardner Todd, then that meant he was someone to exercise caution around. Add in his fortune and connections and being on his own home turf?
She was putting herself in a dangerous situation.
She was being careless.
Like not wearing her vest four months ago.
Suzy turned toward the window and stopped before going back down the stairs. The scar between her breasts heated up. She fisted her hands, remembering the look on her son’s face when she’d woken up in the hospital. He’d just turned ten and was trying his hardest to prove to her that he was old enough to keep it together. He’d been trying to be strong. For her. For himself. It wasn’t until she promised him it was okay to cry that he’d broken down on her lap.
The adrenaline spiked in her belly. Her nails bit into the palms of her hands.
Suzy never wanted to put him in that situation again. Not if she could help it. Not when she could avoid it.
She’d figure out what James was hiding, but not like this. Not creeping around in the shadows of his house. Not by putting herself in compromising positions.
No, she’d figure it out another way.
A safer way.
Suzy nodded to herself and fully intended on going back downstairs to the party, but movement outside the window caught her eye. The side lawn wasn’t lit up like the back patio, but there was enough glow from the hanging lights that she could just make out someone moving toward the house. Slowly and not at all steadily.
Limping.
She sucked in a breath as the man moved closer. The light from the kitchen window caught him.
That was when she saw the blood.
He was covered in it.
The swirl of adrenaline in her stomach upgraded to a storm.
Chapter Three
Suzy hurried down the stairs, not minding this time that her high heels hit each step and sounded off like thunder crashing in the night sky. The chatter from the party in the center of the house kept going, uninterrupted. That meant no partygoer or security guard had spotted the bleeding man.
The cop in her rattled off four instantaneous questions in her head as she stepped toward the side door.
Who was the man?
What had happened to him?
Why had it happened to him?
Why was he at James Callahan’s town social?
No answers came as she flew out into the night and straight toward the unknown. The lights from the backyard cast a glow across the small patio and garden, but were still too weak to show her any new clues to help answer any questions. The blood was there, dark against his face and arms, but she couldn’t be sure where it had come from. His struggle to walk made her assume it was at least partly his.
“Whoa there, buddy,” she said, trying for soothing tones while staying cautious. She went at him with one arm out, like a deputy trying to direct traffic, while the other hung back so her hand was never too far from the holster hidden against her thigh. If she needed to get to her gun fast, she could. However, it would be interesting for any bystanders, considering she’d probably have to rip the dress to get to it. A small price to pay for being prepared, but still, she hoped she wouldn’t have to ruin it. Not only because she thought it was beautiful, but also because it was on loan from Mara.
The man’s head moved enough that, even in the poor light, Suzy knew he was looking at her. Now she was close enough to guess that he wasn’t a party guest or security. Instead of a suit, he wore jeans and a graphic T with some band’s logo on it in neon orange. In fact, the more she tried to find the source of his bleeding, the more Suzy wondered if he was a man at all. He seemed too young.
“Inside,” he groaned out, voice surprisingly strong. “I need to get inside.”
He lurched forward. Suzy’s reaction time since the accident had slowed, but she still managed to dance away from touching the blood on his arm. She latched on to his wrist instead.
“What’s going on?” she tried. “I’m with the sheriff’s department. I can help.”
The man reacted like she’d stung him. Suzy felt his arm muscles coil a split second before he pulled out of her grip. The sudden momentum, plus the fact that she was unaccustomed to wearing heels, threw her off balance enough that she was forced to let go or fall.
“Get away from me,” he hissed. “Where’s Mr. Callahan?”
He turned back to the house, eyes wild, but that didn’t mean she was done with him. Suzy took one step closer, pivoted enough to bring her back leg forward and kicked out at the man. The sound of fabric splitting was followed by a grunt as her foot connected with his stomach. She wasn’t trying to hurt him, but she was trying to control him.
He toppled over and hit the ground. Suzy didn’t wait for him to get his bearings. She flipped off her shoe and pressed her foot against his shoulder to keep him down.
“I’m Chief Deputy Simmons,” she announced. “You will tell me what’s going on and you will do so in a calm manner.”
The man’s eyes widened and flicked toward the house before coming back to her.
“I need to talk to Mr. Callahan,” he said. “Right now!”
He bucked up against her foot, but Suzy wasn’t having it. She applied enough pressure to keep him down.
“What you need is medical attention,” she pointed out. “You’re covered in blood.”
The man twisted beneath her weight. “No, I don’t,” he managed around his squirming. “What I need—is to—talk to—Mr. Callahan.”
Suzy’s curiosity overrode her caution. She leaned over, careful not to press against him too hard, and fixed the man with a stare he couldn’t misinterpret as something he could ignore. Even in the darkness.
“Tell me why, or I’m calling in the cavalry right now.”
This time he didn’t fight back. That didn’t mean he was calm, though—not by any means.
“They found him,” he practically yelled. “And now they’re going after him!”
Suzy tilted her head on reflex, but she never got to ask another question. Someone else beat her to it.
“Going after who? Me?”
Suzy’s hand was at her holster in a flash. The cool night air moved across her upper thigh, confirming that she had, indeed, already ripped the dress. She didn’t let up off the man as she turned to the new voice. Though it wasn’t new to her at all.
“Going after who?” James repeated. His expression was hard, but Suzy couldn’t read what emotion made it so.
The man struggled against her foot again, but this time Suzy let him up. She kept her hand on the butt of her gun.
“I don’t know,” he started, with eyes only for James. “But—but Sully gave me this address to get to you.” He fumbled a hand into his pocket. If he hadn’t been wearing tight jeans, showing he wasn’t carrying a gun, Suzy would have pounced. But now that James was here, her captive’s earlier feistiness had seemingly vanished. When he pulled out a paper and handed it to James, his hand shook. “He said it’s what you’re looking for. New information. I don’t know who they are or who they’re going after. He didn’t have time to tell me.”
Suzy didn’t have to know the situation to understand that the stakes had just risen. James looked over the paper. His eyebrows threaded together.
Maybe he didn’t know the situation, either. Confusion blanketed his expression.
“What happened to you?” he asked. This time, she heard the concern before she saw it. It was familiar in nature. James knew the man. “And who did it?”
Suzy half expected the man to remain silent, as he had with her, but again, having James there seemed the key to unlocking answers. The man took a deep breath.
“You were right,” he said. “It was too dangerous.” He raised one hand up toward the little light they had. Blood. Some was dry. Some wasn’t. “It isn’t mine,” he said. “The blood isn’t mine.”
Suzy glanced at James. He still looked as confused as she felt.
“Whose blood is it?” she had to ask.
The man’s gaze stuck to his hand.
James crouched down so he was at eye level with the other man. “Queso, whose blood is it?” Suzy didn’t have a chance to question the name. She was holding her breath for an answer. “Queso?”
James reached out and grabbed his shoulder. It did the trick in focusing him.
“It’s Sully’s,” Queso finally answered, voice low. “I don’t even know if he’s still alive. He made me run when the shooting started. He told me that getting you that address was too important.” He let out an exhalation. It deflated him. “Padre, he said you’re already running out of time.”
“Okay, I’ve heard enough.”
Suzy placed her hands up in defeat. She wasn’t about to let this show go on any more. The story was lost on her, everyone’s motivations just as hazy. She’d made a promise to herself not to willingly walk into situations exactly like the one she’d just walked into. Having a powwow with a man who had just confessed the blood he was covered in was not his own? A man who had limped from the dark of night to James Callahan’s estate instead of to the police?