Nine-Month Protector. Julie Miller
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was history here, too, albeit the Wild West-cowboy kind. The city had theater and music and art. And though Kansas City had nothing to rival any Manchester United powerhouse, there was even a decent football—or soccer, as they called it in the States—team here.
He could buy box seats at the games, become a patron of one of the museums. He could even put up a stake and reopen the damned casino if Mr. Wolfe thought it could still be a useful front. He would definitely reopen the drug pipeline that had shown such potential for growth had it been managed properly. Some of the players were still in place. Other slots could easily be filled. With his strong hand, the distribution network could be reestablished, deadlines and quotas enforced, and he’d be raking in money in a way that Teddy Wolfe never had.
He’d done the groundwork to create Wolfe International’s presence in the Midwest—on both the legitimate and more profitable business fronts. He’d done the jobs Teddy hadn’t had the stomach to deal with. And despite Teddy’s crash-and-burn over one woman too many and a clever deception by KCPD, the law had never touched him. He was smarter. Stronger. More loyal to Theodore Wolfe than his own son, Teddy, had ever been.
He deserved the opportunity to run the Wolfe empire.
“Shaw? Are you listening to me?”
He bristled at the impatient demand in his employer’s slickly accented voice. One day, Theodore Wolfe, Sr., would be down on his knees, begging him for favors.
“Don’t call me Shaw, sir.” The old governor might slip, without even realizing it, and give him away.
“Not to worry. This call can’t be traced. And I simply can’t get my head around your new name.”
“Then don’t use any name.”
But Theodore Wolfe, builder and boss of the Wolfe International empire, didn’t take criticism well. “I paid for your face and name. I’ll call you anything I damn well like.”
The man once known as Shaw McDonough bit his tongue. “Of course, Mr. Wolfe. I was merely thinking of the assignment you gave me. Avenging your son’s death?”
“His murder,” Wolfe corrected. Good. Let the old man be the one having the emotional reaction. He’d learned the hard way that rational thinking and careful planning for every contingency were the only ways to guarantee survival in this business. “Have you tracked down Seth Cartwright?”
He laughed. The old man didn’t even know he was already in Kansas City. “I haven’t failed you yet. Don’t worry, I’ve set things in motion to get Cartwright’s attention.”
“I want the entire family to pay. He needs to hurt the same way I do.”
It was because of Seth Cartwright, and others like him at KCPD, that he had been brought to this place. He pulled a pink, long-stemmed rose from the bouquet at his feet and kissed the bud. “We’ve all suffered a tremendous loss here, sir. Trust me, they’ll pay.”
“Are you certain you want to do this? I have other men I can call.”
“Oh, I want to do this.” A reporter named Reuben Page and his story about the Wolfe family had forced him into this position. Danielle had worked for the city, coordinating communications between the economic development committee and the gaming commission. She’d fed Page information on bribes Teddy Wolfe had paid council members. He’d had no qualms about silencing Page and his story. Teddy had even been on hand, talking tough like he was the one pulling the trigger. But interest from KCPD and men like Seth Cartwright had forced him to take his job one step further. His sworn loyalty to Theodore Wolfe had left him no choice but to silence the woman he loved. It was only right that he be repaid for his loss. “I’ll take down the Cartwrights for you and put an end to the task force’s investigation.”
What happened after that would remain his own little secret.
“Call if you need anything.” Theodore Wolfe was dismissing him. “I have men and money in place, ready to assist you.”
“You got me back into the country with a new identity.” He combed his fingers through the thick wave of dark hair he’d been growing out for months. Danielle would have liked it. She’d always said his short cut was too severe. But covering the strands of gray and growing it out wasn’t the only obvious change in his appearance. “That’s enough for now. If I need anything else, I’ll let you know.”
“They killed my boy, Shaw. Teddy may have been a disappointment, but he was my flesh and blood. That can’t go unpunished.”
“It won’t. You’ll keep to our agreement?”
“You’re the closest thing I have to a son now. Do what I ask, and everything I own in the States is yours.”
Shaw McDonough disconnected the overseas call. He pressed the phone against his temple and flipped it shut. Then he placed the pink rosebud over Danielle’s name and straightened.
The hour was late, but there was something pleasant, freeing, about the cooling night air. Tomorrow would be soon enough to begin his work. He’d spend a little more time with Danielle. Maybe he’d eat one of those famous Kansas City steaks tonight. Then he’d sleep. God, how he needed to sleep.
It felt good to be back in Kansas City. Good to be back where there was so much to do. Good to be back with Danielle.
“I love you, Dani.”
A few minutes later he walked down the hill to the rented car he’d parked there.
It would be good to finally get what was rightfully his.
SARAH WATCHED HER fourth graders run from the monkey bars to the climbing pit, argue over whose turn it was in an impromptu game of kickball and huddle together at the edge of the playground to discuss the plans and secrets that nine-and ten-year-olds loved to talk about. Normally, one of the aides brought her students out for afternoon recess while she graded papers or prepped the next lesson, but today she needed the fresh air.
She needed something to stir her from the disturbing thoughts that had given her a fitful sleep last night and had plagued her all day long.
“I’m sterile.”
How could that be possible? Cooper Bellamy was a kid at heart, with a wise man’s soul. He’d lived through the worst the world had to offer and had come out a stronger man for it—strong enough to keep his sense of humor and not turn bitter. He’d make a wonderful father, combining just the right amount of softie and strength.
But he couldn’t be a father. He could never pass on those tall, blue-eyed genes.
That meant…
Sarah didn’t even want to think of the alternative. She caught a strand of hair the breeze kept trying to free and tucked it back behind her ear. Concentrating on the small, mindless task offered a brief respite from the inevitable truth she had to face.
Her brief affair with Teddy Wolfe had left her ego in shreds, her faith in men in shambles. She’d been leading with her heart all her life—loving, forgiving, trusting. What an idiot she’d been, thinking the father she’d protected for so long would protect her in return, thinking the man she desired would desire her in the same way.
Now she couldn’t even trust her own judgment. The instincts she’d always believed in had led her astray. She’d gotten herself pregnant by a mobster who was now dead. A man surrounded by deception and murder. A man she couldn’t form any cherished memories over because he’d used her merely as a means to an end. He must have loved that other woman—Dawn—whom she’d seen shot and killed and bundled away—if he was even capable of loving. Teddy wasn’t the man she’d thought he was.
Neither was her father.
But Coop…
Sarah turned her face into the breeze to keep the hair off her face. She warned one of her boys down from the top of the monkey bars, checked the time and quickly scanned the rest of the