Expecting Trouble

Chapter Two

Cal finally spotted her.

Wearing brown pants and a cream-colored cable-knit sweater, Jenna came out of a small family-owned grocery store on Main Street. She had a white plastic sack clutched in each hand. But no baby.

One thing was for sure—she didn’t look as if she’d given birth only three months earlier.

But she did look concerned. Her forehead was bunched up, and her gaze darted all around.

Good. She should be concerned about the lie she’d told. It probably wasn’t a healthy thought to want to yell at a woman. But for the entire hour-long drive from regional headquarters to the little town of Willow Ridge, Texas, he’d played around with it.

She claims the baby is yours.

Director Kowalski’s words pounded like fists in Cal’s head. Powerful words, indeed.

Career-ruining words.

That’s why he had to get this situation straightened out so that it couldn’t do any more damage. Before the end of the week, he was due for a performance review, one that would be forwarded straight to the promotion board. If he had any hopes of making deputy director two years early, there couldn’t even be a hint of negativity in that report.

And there wouldn’t be.

That’s what this visit was all about. One way or another, Jenna was going to tell the truth and clear his name. He’d worked too damn hard to let her take that early promotion away from him.

Cal stepped out of his car, ducked his head against the chilly February wind and strolled across the small parking lot toward her. He figured she was on her way to the apartment she’d rented over the town’s lone bookstore. Judging from the direction she took, he was right.

Even though she kept close to the buildings, she was easy to track. Partly because there weren’t many people out and about and partly because of her hair. Those shiny blond locks dipped several inches past her shoulders. Loose and free. The strands seemed to catch every ray of sun.

That hair would probably cause any man to give her a second look. Her body and face would cause a man to stare. Which was exactly what he was doing.

She must have sensed his eyes on her because she whirled around, her gaze snaring him right away.

“It’s you,” she said, squinting to see him in the harsh late afternoon sun. She sounded a little wary and surprised.

However, Cal’s reactions were solely in the latter category.

First, there were her eyes. That shock of color. So green. So clear. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her eyes when he rescued her in that dimly lit hotel, but he did now. And they were memorable. As was her face. She wore almost no makeup. Just a touch of peachy color on her mouth. She looked natural and sensual at the same time. But the most startling reaction of all was that he wasn’t as angry at her as he had been five minutes before.

Well, until he forced himself to hang on to that particular feeling awhile longer.

“We have to talk,” Cal insisted. And he wasn’t about to let her say no. He took one of her grocery sacks so he could hook his arm through hers.

She looked down at the grip he had on her before she lifted her eyes to meet his. “This is about Paul Tolivar’s business partner, isn’t it? Is Holden Carr the one who’s having me followed?”

That stopped Cal in his tracks. There was a mountain of concern in her voice and expression. Much to his shock, he wasn’t immune to that concern.

He didn’t like this feeling. The sudden need to protect her. This sure as heck wasn’t an ISA-directed mission.

He repeated that to himself. “Someone is following you?” he asked.

She gave a surreptitious glance around, and since their arms were already linked, she maneuvered him into an alley that divided two shops.

“I spotted this man on my walk to the grocery store. He stayed in the shadows so I wasn’t able to get a good look at him.” Her words raced out, practically bleeding together. “Maybe he’s following me, maybe he’s not. And there’s a reporter. Gwen Mitchell. She introduced herself a couple of minutes ago in the produce aisle.”

Cal made note of the name. Once he was done with this little chat, he’d run a background check on this Gwen Mitchell to see if she was legit. “What does she want?”

Jenna dismissed his question with a shrug, though tension was practically radiating from her. The muscles in her arm were tight and knotted. “She claims she’s doing some kind of investigative report on Paul and the rebel situation in Monte de Leon.”

That in itself wasn’t alarming. There were probably lots of reporters doing similar stories because of the renewed investigation. “You don’t believe her?”

“I don’t know. Since the incident in Monte de Leon, I’ve been paranoid. Shadows don’t look like shadows anymore. Hang-up calls seem sinister. Strangers in the grocery line look like rebel soldiers with orders to kill me.” She shook her head. “And I’m sorry for dumping all of this on you. I know I’m not making any sense.”

Unfortunately, she was making perfect sense. Cal had never met Paul’s business partner, the infamous Holden Carr, but from what he’d learned about the man, Holden wasn’t the sort to give up easily. Maybe he wanted to continue his late partner’s quest to get Jenna’s accounting firm and trust fund. Jenna’s firm certainly wasn’t the only one enticing to a potential money launderer, but Holden was familiar with it, and it had all the right foreign outlets to give him a quick turnover for the illegal cash.

Or maybe this was good news, and those shadows were Justice Department agents. Except Director Kowalski hadn’t mentioned anything about her being followed. It was one thing to monitor calls and e-mails, but tailing a person required just cause and a lot of manpower. Since Jenna wasn’t a suspect in a crime, there shouldn’t have been sufficient cause for close surveillance.

And that brought them right back to Holden Carr.

“You’ve heard from Holden recently?” he asked. A lie detector of sorts since he knew from the director’s briefing that she’d been in contact with the man in the past twenty-four hours.

“Oh, I’ve heard from him all right. Lucky me, huh? He’s called a bunch of times, and right after I got back from Monte de Leon, he visited my office in Houston. And get this—he says he’s always been in love with me, that he wants to be part of my life. Right. He’s in love with my estate and accounting firm, and what he really wants is to be part of my death so he can inherit it.” She paused. “Please tell me he’ll be arrested soon.”

“Soon.” But Cal had no idea if that was even true.

“Good. Because as long as he’s a free man, I’m not safe. That’s why I left Houston. I thought maybe if I came here, Holden wouldn’t be able to find me. That he’d stop harassing me. Then yesterday afternoon he called me again, on my new cell phone.” She moistened her lips. And looked away. “He threatened me.”

That didn’t surprise Cal. Holden wouldn’t hesitate to resort to intimidation to get what he wanted. Still, that was a problem for the back burner. He had something more pressing.

“Holden didn’t make an overt threat,” Jenna continued before Cal could speak. “He implied it. It scared me enough to decide that I need professional security. A bodyguard or something. But I don’t know anyone I can trust. I don’t know if the bodyguard I call might really be working for Holden.”

Unfortunately, that was a real possibility. If Holden knew where she was, then he would also know how to get to her.

She paused and blew out a long breath. “Okay, that’s enough about me and my problems. Why are you here?” She conjured a halfhearted smile. “Gosh, that’s a déjà vu kind of question, isn’t it? I remember asking you something similar when you were rescuing me in Monte de Leon. Is that why you’re here now—to rescue me?”

“No.” But why the heck did he suddenly feel as if he wanted to do just that?

From that still panicked look in her eyes, it wasn’t a good time to bring up his anger, but Cal wasn’t about to let her off the hook, either.

“Why did you lie about who your baby’s father is?” he demanded.

Jenna blinked, and then her eyes widened. “How did you know?”

“Well, it wasn’t a lucky guess, that’s for sure. This morning my director called me into his office to demand an explanation as to why I slept with someone in my protective custody.”

“Ohmygod.” Jenna leaned against the wall and pulled in several hard breaths. “I had no idea. How did your director even find out I’d had a baby?”

Because she already had a lot to absorb, Cal skipped right over the Justice Department eavesdropping on her, and gave her a summary of what Director Kowalski had relayed to him. “You told Holden Carr that the baby was mine.”

Jenna nodded, and with her breath now gusting hard and fast, she studied his expression. It was as icy as the Antarctic. “This could get you into trouble, couldn’t it?”

“It’s already gotten me into trouble. Deep trouble. And it could get worse.”

He would have added more, especially the part about Director Kowalski demanding DNA proof that Cal wasn’t the baby’s father. But he caught some movement from the corner of his eye. A thin-faced man in a dark blue two-door car. He drove slowly past them.

“That’s the guy,” Jenna whispered, tugging on the sleeve of Cal’s leather jacket. “He’s the one who followed me to the grocery store.”

The words had hardly left her mouth when the man gunned the engine and sped away. But not before Cal made eye contact with him.

Oh, hell.

Cal recognized him from the intel surveillance photos.

He cursed, dropped the grocery bag and slipped his hand inside his jacket in case he had to draw his gun. “How long did you say he’s been following you?”

Jenna shook her head and looked to be on the verge of panicking. “I think just today. Why? Do you know him? Is he a friend of yours?”

There was way too much hope in her voice.

“Not a friend,” Cal assured her. “But I know of him.” He left it at that. “Where’s your baby?”

“In the apartment. My landlord’s daughter is watching her. Why?”

Cal didn’t answer that. “Come on. We’ll finish this conversation there.”

And once they had finished the discussion about the paternity of her child, he’d move on to some security measures he wanted her to take. Maybe the Justice Department could even provide her with protection or a safe house. He’d call Hollywood and Director Kowalski and put in a request.

Cal tried to get her moving, but Jenna held her ground. “Tell me—who’s that man?”

Okay, so that wasn’t panic in her eyes. It was determination. She wasn’t about to drop this. Not even for a couple of minutes until they could reach her apartment.

“Anthony Salazar,” Cal let her know. “That’s his real name, anyway. He often uses an alias.”

She stared at him. “He works for Holden Carr?”

“He usually just works for the person who’ll pay him the most.” Cal hadn’t intended to pause, but he had to so he could clear his throat. “He’s a hired assassin, Jenna.”

Chapter Three

Jenna was glad the exterior wall of the café was there to support her, or her legs might have given way.

First, there was Cal’s out-of-the-blue visit to deal with.

Then the news that he knew about the lie she’d told.

And now this.

“An assassin?” she repeated.

Somehow she managed to say aloud the two little words that had sent her world spinning out of control—again. She’d had a lot of that lately and was more than ready for it to stop.

Cal cursed under his breath. He picked up the grocery bag he’d dropped and then slipped his arm around her waist.

Jenna thought of her baby. Of Sophie. She couldn’t let that assassin get anywhere near her daughter.

She started to break into a run, but Cal maneuvered her off the sidewalk and behind the café. They walked quickly into the alley that ran the entire length of Main Street. So they’d be out of sight.

“You didn’t know that guy was here?” she asked as they hurried.

“No.”

That meant Cal had come to confront her about naming him as Sophie’s father. That alone was a powerful reason for a visit. She owed him an explanation.

And a Texas-size apology.

But for now, all Jenna wanted to do was get inside her apartment and make sure that hired gun, Anthony Salazar, was nowhere near her baby. And to think he might have been following her on her entire walk to the grocery store. Or even longer. He could have taken out a gun and fired at any time, and there wouldn’t have been a thing she could do to stop it.

He could have hurt Sophie.

Maybe because she was shaking now, Cal tightened his grip around her, pulling her deeper into the warmth of his arm, while increasing the pace until they were jogging.

“I didn’t name you as my baby’s father to hurt your career,” she assured him. “I didn’t think anyone other than Holden would hear what I was saying.”

A deep sound of disapproval rumbled in Cal’s throat. He didn’t offer anything else until they reached the bookstore. Her apartment was at the back and up the flight of stairs on the second floor.

“You have a security system?” he asked as they hurried up the steps.

“Yes.”

She unlocked the door—both locks—tossed the groceries and her purse on the table in the entry and bolted across the room. The sixteen-year-old sitter, Manda, was on the sofa reading a magazine. Jenna raced past her to the bedroom and saw Sophie sleeping in her crib. Exactly where she’d left her just a half hour earlier at the start of her afternoon nap.

“Is something wrong?” Manda asked, standing.

Jenna didn’t answer that. “Did anyone come by or call?”

Manda shook her head, obviously concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Jenna lied. “I just had a bad case of baby separation. I had to get back and make sure Sophie was all right. And she is. She’s sleeping like…well, a baby.”

Still looking concerned, Manda nodded, and her gaze landed on Cal.

“He’s an old friend,” Jenna explained. She purposely didn’t say Cal’s name. Best not to give too much information until she knew what was going on. Besides, she’d already caused Cal enough trouble.

Jenna took the twenty-dollar bill from her pocket and handed it to Manda. “But I was barely here thirty minutes,” the teen protested. “Five bucks an hour, remember?”

“Consider the rest a tip.” Jenna put her hand on Manda’s back to get her moving. She needed some privacy so she could find out what was going on.

“Why didn’t the alarm go off when we came in?” he wanted to know as soon as Manda walked out with her magazine tucked beneath her arm. It wasn’t a question, exactly. More like the start of a cross-examination.

“It’s connected to the bookstore.” She shut the door and locked it. “The owner turns it on when she closes for the evening.”

That didn’t please him. His disapproving gaze fired around the apartment, but it didn’t have to too far. It was one large twenty-by-twenty-five-foot room with an adjoining bath and a tiny nursery. The kitchenette and dining area were on one side, and the living room with its sofa bed was on the other. It wasn’t exactly quaint and cozy with the vaulted, exposed beam ceiling, but it was a far cry from her massive family home near Houston.

“Why this place?” he asked after he’d finished his assessment.

“It has fewer shadows,” she said, not wanting to explain about her sudden fear of bogeymen, assassins and rebel fighters.

She could still hear the bullets.

She’d always be able to hear them.

Cal nodded and eased the grocery bag onto the tiletopped table.

“You want a drink or something?” Jenna motioned to the fridge.

“No, thanks.” There was an unspoken warning at the end of that. That was her cue to start explaining this whole baby-daddy issue.

She was feeling light-headed and was still shivering, so Jenna snagged the trail mix from her grocery bag and went to the sofa so she could sit down.

“First of all, I didn’t know what I said about the baby would even get back to you. To anyone.” She popped a cashew into her mouth and offered him some from the bag. He shook his head. “Yesterday, when Holden called, I’d just returned from Sophie’s three-month checkup with the pediatrician. Right away, he started yelling, saying that he knew that I’d had a child.”

“How did he know?”

“That’s the million-dollar question.” But then, Jenna rethought that. “Or maybe not. I stopped by my house on the outskirts of Houston to pick up some things before I went to the appointment. Holden probably had someone watching the place and then followed me. I was careful. You know, always checking the rearview mirror and the parking lot at the clinic. But he could have had that Salazar guy following me the whole time.”

In hindsight, she should have anticipated Holden would do something like this. In fact, she should have known he would. He was as tenacious as he was ruthless.

“So Holden confronted you about the baby?” Cal asked.

“Oh, yes. Complete with yelling obscenities. And that was just the prelude. No more facade of being in love with me. He demanded to know if Paul was Sophie’s father. If so, he said he would challenge me for custody.”

“Custody?” Cal didn’t hide his surprise very well.

“Apparently, Paul had some kind of provision in his will that would make Holden the legal guardian to any child that Paul might have—if I’m proven unfit, which Holden says he can do with his connections. After he threatened me with that, I stalled him, trying to think of what I should say, and your message was still in my head. It made the leap from my brain to my mouth before I could stop it, and I just blurted out your name.”

Cal walked closer and slid onto the chair across from her. Close enough for her to see all the scorching blue in his eyes. And close enough to see the emotion and the anger, too. “My message?”

She swallowed hard. “The one you left on my voice mail at my office about a month ago. My assistant sent it to me, and I’d recently listened to it.”

A lot. In fact, she’d memorized it.

She’d found his voice comforting, and that’s why she’d replayed it. Night after night. When she couldn’t sleep. When the nightmares got the best of her. But his voice wasn’t comforting now, of course. Coupled with his riled glare, there wasn’t much comforting about him or this visit.

Well, except that he’d put his arm around her when he thought she was cold.

A special kind of special agent.

He still looked the part, even though he wasn’t in battle gear today. He wore jeans, a dark blue buttondown shirt that was almost the same color as his eyes and a black leather jacket.

“Anyway, after I realized it was stupid to give Holden your name,” she continued, “I thought about calling him back and making something up. But I figured that’d only make him more suspicious.”

Because Cal wasn’t saying anything and because she suddenly didn’t know what to do with her hands, Jenna offered him the trail mix again, and this time he reached into the bag and took out a few pieces.

“I’ve done everything to keep my pregnancy and delivery quiet. Everything,” Jenna said, aware that her nerves were causing her to babble. It was either that, humming or reciting something, and she didn’t want to launch into a neurotic rendition of the Preamble to the Constitution. “I don’t have any family, and none of my friends know. No one here in Willow Ridge really knows who I am, either.”

She didn’t think it was her imagination that he was hesitant to say anything. Under the guise of eating trail mix, Cal sat there, letting her babble linger between them.

Since she had to know what was going on in his head, Jenna just went for the direct approach. “How did your director find out that I’d told Holden about my baby?”

His jaw muscles began to stir against each other. “The Justice Department has kept tabs on you.”

“Tabs?” She took a moment to consider that. “That’s an interesting word. What does it mean exactly?”

More jaw muscles moved. “It means they were keeping track of you in case Holden decided to divulge anything incriminating they could use in their case against him.”

So it was true. Her fears weren’t all in her head. The authorities thought Holden might be a danger as well.

Or maybe they didn’t.

Maybe they were just hoping Holden would do something stupid so they could use that to arrest him.

“I was bait?” she asked.

“No.” But then he lifted his shoulder. “At least I don’t think so.”

Jenna prayed that was true. The thought wasn’t something she could handle right now.

“The baby is Paul Tolivar’s?” Cal asked.

She nodded. And waited for his reaction. She didn’t get one. He put on his operative’s face again. “Just how much trouble will this cause for you?” she wanted to know.

“The ISA has a morality clause.” His fingers tightened around a dried apricot, squishing it. “Plus, the regs forbid personal contact during a protective custody situation.”

That was not what she wanted to hear. “You could be punished.”

Again, it took him a moment to answer. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” Jenna took a deep breath, and because she couldn’t stay still, she got up to pace. There was a solution to this. Not necessarily an appetizing solution, but it did exist. “Will my statement that I lied be enough to clear you, or will you need a paternity test?”

“My director wants a test.” He stood as well, and caught her arm when she started to go past him. His fingers were warm. Surprisingly warm. She could feel his touch all the way through her thick sweater. “But I think that’s the least of your worries right now.”

“Because of Anthony Salazar.” Jenna nodded. “Yes. He’s definitely a worry. His being here means I’ll need to leave Willow Ridge and go into hiding.”

“You’re already in hiding,” Cal pointed out. “And he found you. He’ll find you again. He’s very good at what he does. You need more protection than a bookstore security system or a hired bodyguard can give you. I’ll make some calls and see what I can do.”

Pride almost caused her to decline his offer. But she knew that it wouldn’t protect her baby. And that was the most important thing right now. She had to stay safe because if anything happened to her, it would happen to her precious daughter as well.

“Thank you,” Jenna whispered. She repeated it to make sure he heard her. “I really am sorry about dragging you into my personal life.”

“We’ll get it straightened out,” he assured her. But there was a lot of skepticism in his voice.

And annoyance, which she deserved.

“Okay, while you make those calls, I’ll arrange to have the paternity test done,” Jenna added.

Somehow, though, she’d have to keep the results a secret from anyone but Cal and his director.

Because she didn’t want Holden to learn the truth. Jenna moved away from Cal and started to pace again, mumbling a poem she’d memorized in middle school. She couldn’t help it. A few lines came out before she could stop them.

“What you must think of me,” she said. “For what it’s worth, Paul and I only had sex once, and we used protection. But I guess something went wrong…on a lot of levels. Honestly, I don’t really even remember sleeping with him.” Jenna mumbled that last part.

“You don’t remember?” he challenged.

She shook her head. “One minute we were having dinner, and the next thing I remember was waking up in bed with him. I obviously had too much to drink. Or else he drugged me. Either way, it was my stupid mistake for being there. Then I made things so much worse by telling Holden that you’re my daughter’s father. And here we didn’t even have sex. Heck, we never even kissed on the floor of that cantina.”