Daddy Bombshell. Lisa Childs
for a cable network. “Well, I’d rather be doing the interviewing,” he clarified, “than being interviewed.”
“Wouldn’t we all,” she murmured.
Growing up a Kendall in St. Louis had been like growing up royalty. The media had recorded their lives, snapping pictures at school dances and proms and their high school graduations. And that coverage always intensified this time of year, around the anniversary of their parents’ murders. Since the discovery that their killer had never been caught, the media had gone crazy trying to get the siblings’ reactions. And in Thad’s case, his story about the shooting his first night back in St. Louis.
“Is that why you’re here and not at Gray’s?” he asked. “You’re hiding out?”
Her face flushed with embarrassment. “Hey, we’re not married yet.”
“Hasn’t stopped the two of you from being joined at the hip,” he teased, amused that her big brother’s knowing that she stayed at her fiancé’s would fluster her so much.
“Well, he’s my bodyguard,” she reminded him. “He’s supposed to be with me 24/7.”
He chuckled. “Somehow I don’t think he considers that a duty of his job. He loves you.”
She emitted a happy sigh. “Isn’t it wonderful? Devin, Ash and I all found love—true love.”
“Yeah, wonderful,” he murmured sarcastically.
She pinched his arm. “You’re such a cynic. I can’t wait until you fall in love, brother dear. You’re going to fall the hardest of all of us.”
He already had. But that was just one more thing his family didn’t know about him. Hell, until he’d left her he hadn’t even known how hard he’d fallen for her. By the time he’d realized the extent of his feelings, he had been a world away from her and in too deep to get out.
Hell, he hadn’t even been able to come back when his family needed him most. By the time he’d finally escaped the life that hardly anyone knew he lived, he’d almost been too late. Natalie had nearly died in the fire her stalker had set to her cottage, and her fiancé had nearly been shot to death trying to save her from that fire. The stalker had ambushed Gray as he’d carried Natalie from her burning cottage.
Thad had absolutely no regrets over killing her stalker. In the same situation, he would not have done anything differently—except for making sure he’d had the kill shot before Gray had taken a bullet for his sister. But his future brother-in-law was fine now, fully recovered. Thad was the one everyone kept looking at like he was going to fall apart. Because none of them knew about his work for the U.S. Department of State, they thought the shooting was bothering him.
What was really bothering him was the fact that his parents’ murderer had never paid for his horrific crimes. Thad wanted justice.
But that wasn’t all he wanted.
CAROLINE EMERSON CROOKED her neck to cradle the cordless phone between her ear and her shoulder while she folded laundry. Her best friend was given to marathon telephone calls even though they’d just seen each other that morning at church and saw each other every weekday at the elementary school where they both taught.
“You still haven’t heard from him?” Tammy asked.
A hard knot tightened in Caroline’s stomach, but she forced a smile into her voice. “No.”
“But he’s been back in St. Louis more than a week now.”
And what a week it had been. His handsome face had been all over the news.
Caroline reminded her overly romantic friend, “He’s been a little busy.”
For once he had been making news instead of reporting it: World famous photojournalist who spent years in war-torn countries finds most danger at home, forced to kill to protect his family.
“I was sure he would call you,” Tammy said, her voice heavy with disappointment.
“I was sure he wouldn’t.” But even though her head had been sensibly convinced that he wouldn’t, her stupid heart had held out hope, so she was disappointed, too.
“I set the two of you up four years ago because I knew you were perfect for each other.” Because Tammy had found the love of her life, she was convinced that everyone else could find the happiness she had with her husband. She didn’t realize how fortunate she had been to find Steve Stehouwer—the sweet man was one in a million.
For the magical month that Thad had been home in St. Louis, Caroline had believed Tammy’s matchmaking successful. But she’d had years since then that had proved how wrong her friend had been. Thad Kendall had not been perfect for her at all. But he had given her one perfect …
“He has been busy.” Tammy rallied her eternal optimism. “So you should call him.”
Caroline choked on her own saliva and the nerves that rushed over her. “No.”
“You should have called him right after you found out you were—”
“I couldn’t reach him then,” Caroline interrupted, “and I doubt I’d be able to reach him now.”
“I could see if Steve has a contact at the station who could get a message to him.” Steve and Thad had taken a journalism class together in college; that was how Tammy had met and then proceeded to introduce Thad to Caroline.
But Steve was an anchor at a local station whereas Thad traveled the world. He’d only been home a month when they’d been going out. Between assignments, he’d explained. Somehow she hadn’t thought he was talking about just photojournalism jobs.
The ever-romantic Tammy had believed he would fall in love with Caroline and stay home. And maybe, for a little while, she had let herself believe that, too. Or at least hope. But those hopes had been dashed forever when he’d left.
As far as Caroline knew, this was the first time he had been home in nearly four years. And in all that time, he hadn’t called, hadn’t sent her a letter or even a text message. He had obviously forgotten all about her.
BEFORE COMING HERE, Thad had driven all around St. Louis, over the Poplar Street Bridge and under the shadow of the infamous six-hundred-thirty-story-tall Gateway Arch. Sentimentality hadn’t inspired his impromptu tour of the city he hadn’t seen in years, though.
He had driven all over Greater St. Louis to lose whatever reporters and whoever else might have been following him. So he was certain that his was the only car that turned onto her street.
Four years ago she’d lived in an apartment building, close to the elementary school where she taught second grade. She still worked at the same school, but she had moved out of the apartment into a subdivision with cul-de-sacs and a mixture of newer ranch homes and well-maintained older brick Cape Cods. Thad glanced down at the paper on which he’d scribbled her house number, but before he could locate her address, his cell rang.
The distinctive ring belonged to his boss—his real boss—not the executive at the network everyone else believed to be his real boss. He answered with a succinct “Kendall.”
“We have a problem.”
He mentally cursed. “Michaels still hasn’t been found?” He shouldn’t have left—not with a man missing. But if he hadn’t come back when he had … he shuddered to think what would have happened to Natalie and Gray that night.
“He’s been found,” Agent Anya Smith replied.
His gut tightened with dread. “Not alive?”
“No. And before he died, he’d been tortured. We have no idea what he might have revealed to his captors before his death.” That was what she considered the problem.
Thad considered the problem the senseless murder of a good man. “Len Michaels wouldn’t have given them any information.”