Protecting His Secret Son. Laura Scott
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he held the passenger door open for her and she shot him a curious look as she slid into the passenger seat. He went around to the driver’s side and put the SUV in gear.
Neither one of them broke the silence for several long moments.
“Why did you move to Nashville?”
“Huh?” She looked confused, then shrugged and turned away. “My aunt Jean lives there. She offered to help with the baby.”
“I would have helped with Brodie.” The words shot out of his mouth before he could stop them. Seemed to be happening a lot lately.
Shayla shifted in her seat to face him. “You accused my father and brother of being criminals, remember?”
He couldn’t deny it. And he’d apologize except that two days ago he’d witnessed her brother meeting with Lane Walters. And to his eye, they’d appeared very friendly.
More miles passed before he spoke again. “You’re sure he said Jacksonville?”
“Yes.” She shivered a bit in the cool night breeze. Once the sun went down, the warmth promising a hint of summer quickly evaporated. The pink hoodie she wore wasn’t very thick.
He turned up the heat for her sake and Brodie’s, then glanced at her. “I want to be a part of Brodie’s life.”
Shayla let out a harsh laugh. “I’m sure you do. However, has it occurred to you that the two people you’re accusing of being criminals are Brodie’s uncle and grandfather?”
A hard lump formed in the back of his throat, making it impossible to speak. She was right, he hadn’t considered that fact, yet he couldn’t let go of what he knew in his heart was true. Duncan and Ian were involved in his father’s murder and needed to be brought to justice.
No matter the consequences? His resolve wavered. He couldn’t lose his son.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Shayla said in a weary tone. “You really won’t even entertain the idea that Duncan is working undercover?”
“I’ll consider it,” he said, forcing the admission past his tight throat. “I’m willing to listen to your brother’s side of the story.”
“That’s something, I guess.” Shayla turned to stare out the passenger window.
He knew he needed to tread lightly from here on out. Alienating Shayla wouldn’t help his goal of being involved in Brodie’s life.
Maybe a mediator would help. He dug his phone out of his pocket and gently lobbed it over the center console. “Find Hawk’s number—it’s in my most recent calls. I spoke to him ten minutes ago. Wouldn’t hurt to have backup.”
She fumbled with the phone for a moment, then hit the number and the speaker. The sound of a ringing phone could be heard before a sleepy, querulous voice answered. “Callahan, don’t you sleep?”
His mouth quirked in a reluctant smile. “I need backup, can you meet me in Jacksonville?”
Hawk uttered a low groan. “Yeah, but I need to know where exactly you want to meet.”
“To a motel called...” He waited for Shayla to pipe in.
“The Rustic Resort,” she finally admitted.
Hawk made some sort of grunting sound and then the line went silent.
“That was weird,” Shayla murmured. “He didn’t say goodbye.”
“That’s just how Hawk is.” He held out his hand for the phone and she dropped it into his palm. The device was warm from her touch and he closed his fingers around it, wishing he could go back in time to do things differently.
“Mommy? I’m hungry.”
Shayla reached behind her seat to lightly touch her son’s knee. “We’ll get something later, okay?”
“We can stop and get something,” Mike interjected. He felt bad for not thinking of it sooner. He’d forgotten what it was like to be around little kids.
Not just any kid.
His son.
Her expression turned wry. “We picked up dinner at Burger Barn shortly before you came rushing to our rescue. Trust me, this is normal. Brodie’s always hungry. The kid has an appetite that doesn’t quit.”
He found himself mesmerized by every morsel of information she doled out about his son and insatiable for more. He wanted to ask about everything from how her pregnancy went to the delivery to who watched Brodie while she worked, if she worked, which he assumed she must. It burned to know that he hadn’t paid a dime of child support.
He would have, if he’d known. And whose fault was that?
His. And hers. But mostly his.
The sight of the Jacksonville sign interrupted his crazy thoughts. They’d made good time, arriving sooner than expected. “We need to find out where the Rustic Resort is located.”
“It’s off County Highway BB.” She was looking down at her phone. “Roughly five miles from here.”
He hoped Hawk had made good time as well, because he wasn’t about to put Shayla or Brodie in danger. He and Hawk would talk to Duncan, while Shayla and Brodie stayed well out of the way.
“I think that’s it, up ahead.”
He saw the building she indicated and slowed down to pull off the road. Hitting the redial button on his phone, he called Hawk. “How far away are you?”
“Eight minutes, maybe less.”
Sitting out in the open like this made him twitchy. It was past midnight, which meant traffic out here in no-man’s-land was nonexistent. They were an obvious target and he didn’t like it. “I’m going to drive past the place, see what we’re dealing with. Call me when you get close.”
“Yep.”
He tucked his phone into his pocket and pulled back out onto the highway. The Rustic Resort was all rustic and very little resort, with ten rooms in a long row. It was set back about one hundred feet from the highway, but even as he drove past, he could see there were only three cars parked in the lot and none of them was a white pickup. A black pickup was in front of the third room, but not a white one, the kind Duncan drove.
A chill snaked down his spine.
Either Duncan had ditched his truck and hitched a ride, or he’d got his hands on a spare vehicle. For Shayla’s brother’s sake, he hoped it was the latter.
Without a ride handy, her brother would be stuck there like a mouse in a trap.
From what he could tell, the motel butted up against a farmer’s field. There were long rows of newly turned dirt and a farmhouse way out in the distance. No lights were on inside the place, making him wonder where the owners of the land were. Or maybe they just leased the land to someone else who did the work.
Worst of all, the farmland didn’t offer any type of cover. He couldn’t imagine what Duncan was thinking to choose this place. He and his brothers would have looked for something with an escape route. Even the American Lodge had one, especially from the corner room that he’d given Shayla.
At the next intersection, he turned right and pulled off the road. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Patience wasn’t his strongest attribute and he was finding it difficult to wait on Hawk. After five minutes had passed, he pulled out his phone, but before he could call Hawk, his buddy’s name popped up on the screen.
“I’m approaching the motel now,” Hawk said without preamble. “What’s the plan?”
“There isn’t any coverage behind the place, so I’ll park on the south end of the lot while you take the north. We’ll meet in the middle.”
“Know how many hostiles