Dangerous Secrets: Callaghan Brothers, Book 1

by Zanders, Abbie

  Michael’s hand was warm as it touched her skin. He gently ran it along her behind, up and over her hip, giving her a gentle squeeze. “All done,” he said quietly, replacing her panties. She turned around, surprised. She’d been so focused on the feel of his hand she hadn’t even felt the shot.

  He gave her a lopsided grin. “That only works with the ladies,” he said with a wink, making her laugh. For a doctor, he was alright.

  His smile faded a little. “I wish I could do something similar with the next part,” he said apologetically, “but without the Novocain it’s going to hurt.” Taryn felt kind of bad for him. He didn’t want to hurt her, and she suspected he was only doing this as a favor to his brothers. For as brave of a front she put up, she knew that it was a good thing he was there. Her hand had been throbbing like a bitch, and not taking care of it properly would just make things worse. It wasn’t like she could just walk into a hospital, though. Hospitals meant questions, ID checks – things she had to avoid at all costs. If the wrong people found out she was still alive... well, it was worth her hand not to let that happen.

  She gave him an encouraging smile. “It’s okay, Michael,” she said sincerely, offering her hand to him. “And don’t worry too much. I’m tougher than I look.”

  Michael slipped on a pair of gloves. “It might be easier if you let them help you.” Taryn flicked a glance to where Ian and Jake stood, arms crossed and watching intently.

  “For who?” she asked. “Me or them?”

  Michael chuckled. “Point taken.” He looked her right in the eye. “Ready?”

  Taryn took a deep breath and nodded.

  “Okay, then. If it gets to be too much, say something.” Taryn nodded again.

  Without further delay, Michael set to work. If he had any doubts about Taryn’s ability to withstand pain, she dispelled them quickly. She sat rock-still, not flinching even as he opened the wound to debride it, painstakingly removing the tiny shards of glass that were still embedded in the tissue. He worked quickly and with a surprisingly gentle touch, but it still hurt like hell.

  By the time he taped and bound the wound, her face was pale, a sheen of perspiration covering her skin, but she hadn’t so much as uttered a peep.

  “You okay?” he asked, leaning back.

  “Are you finished?”

  He nodded.

  “Excuse me.” She bolted toward the bathroom. Seconds later came the unmistakable sounds of her being ill.

  * * *

  Jake tried to follow her, but Ian held him back. “Chill, Jake. Give her a minute.”

  He shifted his weight, eyes peeled to the door. One word from her, just one word, and he’d be at her side in a heartbeat or less.

  A few minutes – roughly an eternity - later, Taryn emerged from the bathroom with an apologetic smile. Jake couldn’t hold himself back any longer. Two steps and he was beside her.

  Still quite pale and a bit unsteady on her feet, she thankfully allowed him to help her. Arm wrapped around her waist, he half-carried her to his bed. It was a testament to exactly how out of it she was when she didn’t raise even a weak protest. The moment her head hit the pillow, her eyes closed.

  Jake parked himself beside her, drawing the covers up to her shoulders and pushing the hair away from her face. Taryn was a strong woman; seeing her pale and prone like this just wasn’t right. She had held up remarkably well while Mick did his thing – better than he had at some points. Several times he’d had to bite his lip to keep from telling Mick to stop, his knowledge that it was necessary warring with the knowledge that it had to hurt like hell.

  She shouldn’t have to be sick, too.

  “What the hell, Mick?” he demanded, turning to Michael.

  “Probably the antibiotic,” Michael guessed, sitting down on the other side of Taryn. He pressed a cool washcloth to her forehead. She moaned weakly. “Did she eat anything today?”

  Jake looked at Ian, who shrugged. “She was eating an apple when I came in earlier.”

  Michael shot them both an irritated look. “Open up a can of peaches. Crush some ice and mix in some of the heavy syrup,” he suggested. “That should help stem some of the nausea.”

  When Ian returned with crushed ice and peach syrup, he held the straw to her lips, but she pushed it away impatiently. “No, Nathan,” she moaned. “You have to go before they find you...” The three brothers looked at each other. It was Jake who found his voice first.

  “Who’s going to find me?”

  “They killed her! Oh, God, Nathan, they’re going to kill me, too.” She looked up at Jake with wild eyes, grabbing his arm with remarkable strength. “Kill me, Nathan, just kill me. Don’t let them take me again, please...” She began to sob. “I saw them shoot Dad, Nathan. The whole back of his head just ... “ she gasped for breath “... it just exploded. You have to run, Nathan. It’s me he wants. Don’t let them get you too...”

  The rest of her words were lost in muffled sobs. Jake’s heart nearly broke. He tried to hold her but she grew hysterical, begging him to leave and pushing him away before they found him. Alarmed by her cries, others began to enter the room.

  “Oh God,” she cried, her face a mask of sheer panic as she looked toward the door, not recognizing them for who they truly were. “They’re here, Nathan! Run!” Seconds later, she collapsed. Jake looked up to see Michael pulling a syringe from her arm.

  Jake pulled her close to his chest, pushing the hair back from her face, now relaxed from the sedative. His hands were trembling, his face visibly shaken.

  “I gave her a sedative,” Michael said, his expression somber. “She must be having a reaction to the antibiotic.”

  “Do you think any of that was real?” Ian asked.

  “It was real,” Jake said, feeling the truth of it in his gut. Reaction or not, the terror he’d seen in her eyes had been all too real.

  The gentle way he held her was at odds with the murderous look in his eyes. “At least now we have a pretty good idea of why she’s running. Now we just have to figure out who she is and who she’s running from.”

  “I know who she is,” Kieran said unexpectedly. He held out a piece of paper. “This just came off of Ian’s machine.”

  Ian read it several times before handing it to Jake. “Jesus Christ.”

  Jack Sr. took the paper from Jake and scanned the words. His face, normally a mask of neutrality, showed signs of genuine surprise. “Kiara Fitzpatrick?” he said. The others shifted and muttered at the vaguely familiar name.

  “The Senator’s daughter?” Shane said incredulously. His photographic memory recalled exactly where they had heard the name before. “Not possible. She died ten years ago.”

  “I took those prints off of her car myself this morning,” Jake told them, stunned. One hand rubbed Taryn’s back; the need to touch her was beyond his control. If she really was Kiara Fitzpatrick, then she was in a whole lot more danger than he’d ever imagined. A horrible thought occurred to him.

  “Ian, did you cover your footprints?” Jake asked suddenly. Ian paled. It was standard protocol to use a secure site and route his IP address through about ten different satellites as a security measure, but it wouldn’t be enough to throw off the serious players. Federal government agencies definitely fell into that category. If they had any kind of flag on her digital files, they would know someone was poking around.

  “I’m on it,” he said, already halfway across the room.

  “How do you want to play this, Jake?” asked Sean quietly. Jake took a look around him. His family. His father. His brothers. Six of the best men there were. There was no one else he would want by his side in this.

  “Work with Ian to find out everything you can about Kiara Fitzpatrick and the circumstances surrounding her supposed death,” Jake said, slipping into commander mode. “But watch for trip wires and red flags. If I remember correctly, there were a lot of rumors that the Senator’s execution was an inside job.” Shane nodded, disappearing through the same door
Ian had a few minutes earlier.

  “Sean, Kieran. Prepare for an emergency evac should it come to that. We’ll need two vehicles, stocked and armed and ready to move.” They nodded, jogging off without question.

  “Michael, stay with Taryn, keep her safe. Listen to anything else she says that might be helpful.” Reluctantly Jake laid Taryn back on the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. His instincts were screaming at him to stay with her, but he knew it was important to keep everything as normal as possible. There was no one he trusted more than his brothers. “She needs to be ready to go on a moment’s notice.” Michael inclined his head in acknowledgement.

  “Dad, you come with me. Ian kicked those prints off hours ago. If they were flagged, we might be getting company real soon.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The evening passed without incident, but none of them were foolish enough to believe they were out of the woods.

  After the bar closed, they reconvened in the third floor living area.

  “Why the hell aren’t you with Taryn?” Jake demanded the moment he walked in and spotted Michael putting the finishing touches on a monster-sized PB & J.

  “Give me a break, Jake,” Michael said around a mouthful. “She’s fine. Dad’s sitting in there with her now.”

  Jake grunted. He should have known. The old man might be tough as nails, but he was a real softie when it came to the lasses. Thank God they didn’t have any sisters; they would have been spoiled rotten.

  Jack joined them a few minutes later, leaving the door to Jake’s bedroom ajar so they would hear if Taryn awoke or had any more nightmares.

  Shane had already skimmed through all of the material they’d manage to dig up. He was the equivalent of a human computer, their own personal reference library. Once he saw an image or read a file it was with him forever. He cleared his throat as his brothers and father gathered around, then kept his voice low and neutral as he summarized their findings.

  “Senator Fitzpatrick was found murdered in his home ten years ago, shot once at close range execution style. His wife, Colleen, also murdered, one shot to the back of the head while in bed. Daughter Maggie, 19, strangled and beaten, found tied in her room. Son Nathan, 18, beaten, and shot once in the chest at point-blank range. Kiara, age 16, body discovered three weeks later. Her car was found at the bottom of a flooded quarry several miles from the home; the coroner ruled the death as a result of a car wreck. The vehicle showed evidence of tampering, but the remains were too badly burned for a positive id.”

  Several pairs of eyes looked to the older man, recalling the now-suspicious accuracy with which he had guessed Taryn’s real name the night before.

  “You knew,” Michael said quietly.

  Jack Callaghan didn’t answer immediately. He looked thoughtful, as if he was choosing his next words with great care. “Not for certain, no.”

  “But you’ve seen her before, haven’t you?”

  “Aye, but she was only a wee babe then.” Six pairs of eyes lasered into him and he sighed. “I knew Danny Fitzpatrick a long time, well before he ever became a congressman. He was a good lad, as honest as a politician can be and still get the job done. The last time I saw him alive was at his first swearing-in ceremony. Kiara was still in diapers, but the child had the most amazing eyes I had ever seen.” He paused, the memory of that day reflected in his eyes.

  “Right after the Senator’s murder, things just didn’t add up. It looked like someone on the inside was involved. They sent me the files, hoping as an outside agent I’d be able to uncover something without raising too many red flags.”

  “But you didn’t take the case,” guessed Sean.

  “No,” Jack said, his voice laced with regret. “I looked at the photos of the crime scene and the victims. All I could see was that child, looking up at me with those eyes.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t do it. It was too personal. Kane was pulled in, though.”

  News that the eldest Callaghan brother had been involved spawned several murmurs among them. He would surely have information not available anywhere else, the most valuable of which might be his impressions. Currently in the hospital for wounds sustained during his last mission, he was due to be released any day.

  “So what happened next?” Kieran asked.

  Shane resumed the tale. “Taryn Malone arrived in Dunns Falls about six months after the murders, taken in by Charlie Malone, owner of Charlie’s Old Tyme Tavern.”

  “Jesus. Someone had her for six months?” Jake’s stomach turned at the thought of how much hell she must have endured. Judging by the stone-cold expressions on his father’s and brothers’ faces, they were probably thinking the same thing. In that moment, Jake felt certain that when they found the son-of-a-bitch, they would not make it an easy death.

  “Malone claimed Taryn was his niece, the only child of his sister, Molly. Word has it that Taryn was in real bad shape when she first showed up. Charlie told folks she was with her mother in the fatal wreck.”

  “Let me guess,” piped in Ian. “Charlie Malone didn’t have a sister.”

  “Oh, he had a sister alright. Only problem is, Charlie Malone’s sister Molly died twenty years earlier in a little village outside of Belfast, complications of pneumonia. Malone died about a year ago, cancer. Taryn left shortly after the funeral. She’s been off the grid since.”

  “Did Malone know who she was?” asked Kieran.

  “Unknown. But Charlie Malone was a SEAL back in the day, did some time with special ops before he retired and bought the bar. If he didn’t know, he would have suspected something, for sure.”

  Shane let them digest this for a few minutes, waiting for the obvious question, which came, unsurprisingly, from his twin. “So why wasn’t Kiara killed with the rest of them?”

  “The general consensus is that one of the attackers had a thing for her. There were some reports of a stalker, most likely someone on the Senator’s staff, but the official documents – those that haven’t been conveniently misplaced - have been so black-lined they don’t say much of anything. Ian’s working on getting us something more workable. In the meantime, we think he probably abducted her and let the others believe he killed her. She must have found some way to escape.”

  “And the guy couldn’t say anything, because they’d know he hadn’t done his job,” Sean mused.

  “My guess is Kiara can identify her family’s killers. That’s why she’s been in hiding all this time.”

  “Not to mention she’s worth about twenty million dollars as the sole heir to the Fitzpatrick family fortune, that is.”

  “And now we’ve just lit a beacon to her location. Christ. We should have just sent out engraved invitations,” Ian said.

  “No one is going to touch her.” Jake’s voice was low and lethal. The others nodded their heads in mutual agreement.

  “Do you think we should talk to her about it? There are a lot of holes.”

  Jake shook his head. “No, not yet. If she knows we know, she’ll bolt, I’m sure of it. She watched her whole family get taken out by these sadistic bastards. If I know her, and I think I do, she’s not going to let that happen to anyone else ever again. The second she feels anyone is in danger, she’s history.”

  “But we’re not just anybody, are we?”

  “No, but Taryn doesn’t know that. As far as she knows, Ian and I run a pub and Mick’s a doctor. God only knows what she thinks of the rest of you.”

  “So what now?”

  “Keep digging. Ian’s got a pretty sweet set-up, but we can expand. We need as much intel as we can get, see if we can’t bulls-eye these bastards before they get a bead on her. One of us has her in sight at all times, two if possible.”

  “Can I pull night duty?” Kieran asked eagerly. Ian smacked him on the back of his head.

  * * *

  When Taryn awoke the next morning, she felt like she was trying to swim up from the deepest depths of the ocean. Her body was so heavy, her mind foggy. But she was warm, cocooned
in something hard yet smooth. And moving.

  It took a while for her to realize she was tucked snugly against a solid male body. The clean, spicy scent told her it was Jake. At least she hoped it was. She just didn’t have the strength to fight off yet another brother. His arms were locked around her, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. She listened to the hypnotic sound of his heart, strong and steady.

  “Good morning,” Jake said softly. How he had known she was awake? She wouldn’t have minded pretending to be asleep a little longer, just to extend the incredible feeling of peace she felt in his arms. Then she remembered that she was a “mistake”, and the only feeling she had was that of being pathetic.

  “Good morning,” she answered, but it came out raspy and weak. Her throat felt like sandpaper. Wait. Good morning?

  “It’s Monday?” she said, trying to sit up and immediately wishing she hadn’t as her head began to spin.

  “Yes,” he said, his big hands steadying her. “Mick said to take it slow. The antibiotics he gave you really hit you hard. Did you eat anything yesterday?”

  Did she? She couldn’t remember. What she could recall were horrible, nightmarish images that sent chills down her spine. She looked up at Jake as if to make sure it was really him.

  “What is it?” he asked instantly.

  “Nothing,” she lied. “I just had some nightmares, that’s all. Probably the antibiotics.”

  “Probably.”

  “I’m sorry I missed my shift last night.”

  “That’s okay. My dad had a blast.”

  “Your dad and your brothers, they all live here?”

  “Yeah, but they’re in and out a lot. Ian and I are the homebodies.“

  She smiled a little at that. “Homebody” was definitely not a word she would choose to describe either one of them. “It’s nice that you guys are so close. Family is important.”