Loving Baby. Tyler Anne Snell
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?
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