Daddy Bombshell

by Lisa Childs

  “But you never brought her around. You never mentioned her.”

  “I knew I had to leave her.” And introducing her to the family, and knowing how she would have instantly become a part of it, would have made it impossible for him to do that. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

  “But you’re planning on doing it again,” Ash reminded him. “You’re planning on leaving her and your son.”

  “I have no choice.”

  “You have a choice. Hell, you’re a Kendall. You have a lot of choices. You could work anywhere in St. Louis—local television stations. Hell, national stations. At Kendall Communications. Or even here,” Ash said, his voice deep with emotion, “with me.”

  Thad smiled, moved that his brother would make such an offer. “I thought I had too much ego for you to want to work with me.”

  “I could beat it out of you,” Ash replied with a quick and cocky grin, “just like I did when we were kids.”

  Thad was surprised to find a grin on his own lips. “Why do I have a feeling that we’d both be visiting Uncle Craig’s office a lot if we worked together?”

  Ash shuddered. “You were never summoned as often as Devin and I were. Don’t understand why Dev wanted to work there.”

  “I do,” Thad admitted.

  Ash laughed.

  “No. I’m serious.”

  “Why? Because Dad built the company?”

  Having been only eleven when Joseph Kendall had been murdered, Thad hadn’t idolized his father like his brothers had. He’d idolized Uncle Craig instead. “Because some of those advances our family company has made in communications have saved lives.”

  “You’re talking spy techie stuff.”

  Thad nodded. “And military. We could use some of that kind of equipment now to track down Ed Turner. Hell, we need his stuff to do that. His is better, and that’s why we keep losing contracts to him.”

  Ash chuckled. “You’re usually half a world away, but you keep up on the family business better than I do and I live down the street from the office.”

  “I’m more concerned about where Turner is right now.” They’d found where he’d been staying last; they had units going past his other properties. Where the hell was he?

  Frustration gnawed at him. He would not be able to sleep or eat or even rest until Ed Turner was at the very least behind bars, at the most six feet under with his stalker son.

  “You don’t need the special equipment,” Ash said. “Your interviews got us everything we need to know to track down Ed Turner. We really could use you in the department, even if you just gave classes on interrogation techniques.”

  “You wouldn’t let me use all the techniques I know,” Thad reminded him.

  “You didn’t need them.” Ash laughed. “Maybe you do suck because we actually just needed Emily Turner’s diaries. From reading those, I know where we’ll find Ed Turner.”

  Thad shook his head, unconvinced that Turner was still drinking. Something as traumatic as losing a son could cause a sober man to drink. And it could cause a drunk to sober up.

  “Don’t you remember what she’d written?” Ash asked. “About how, if Ed was actually in town, he would ruin the boy’s holiday because he’d tie on the drunk of all drunks on Christmas Eve.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s Christmas Eve now.”

  Christmas Eve.

  “I know where Turner is,” he said. “And he’s not at a bar or liquor store.”

  Ash tensed. “The estate? I put a patrol there, too, just in case he returned to the scene again.”

  No, Turner intended to create a new scene. For Thad.

  CAROLINE SLEPT ON THE EDGE of Mark’s single-size mattress, her arms wrapped tight around her son. Or she tried to sleep.

  She was caught somewhere in that point between light sleep and being fully awake. Probably because Mark was restless, his elbows and feet jabbing into her as he moved in his sleep.

  Kids were resilient. But her little man had been through an awful lot that he wasn’t mature enough to process.

  She would talk to the school psychologist about having Mark meet with a professional or giving Caroline the tools to help her son herself. After what had happened, she was unlikely to let Mark out of her sight for a while.

  Now a shiver chased down her spine and not just because Mark had stolen all the blankets but because she had that odd sensation of being watched. The police officers were outside, parked in her driveway as she’d learned from his brother that Thad had been every night since Mark had nearly been abducted from the mall.

  That was probably why Ed Turner had decided to take Mark from the day care. He’d known then that it would be easier than getting past Thad, who would die for his son.

  And for her…

  Had he? Was that why she had that odd feeling?

  Then suddenly she knew why—because a cold barrel was pressed against her temple.

  “Don’t scream,” a man advised her. “Don’t even move.”

  Despite his warning, she moved slightly, trying to cover Mark with her body.

  “Where’s that gun?” he asked, pressing the barrel harder against her temple.

  She swallowed hard, choking down her nerves and fear. “I—I gave it back to Thad.”

  Her voice, or Turner’s, awakened Mark, who murmured then rubbed at his eyes.

  “Shh…” She soothed her son. “Go back to sleep.”

  “It’s nearly morning,” Turner said, gesturing toward where light snuck around the edges of the shade on Mark’s window. “And he must know what today is. After all, he is a Kendall.”

  She would have shaken her head but his gun held it still. “He’s an Emerson, not a Kendall.”

  Turner laughed. “I don’t care what his last name is. The kid is definitely a Kendall and definitely Thad Kendall’s son.”

  “Hurting him won’t bring your son back, Mr. Turner,” she said.

  “Thad made sure my boy could never come back,” he said, his voice gruff with bitterness and anguish. The man might have been a killer, but he’d also been a father. And that father was grieving.

  “Thad was only protecting his family,” she reminded him. “Your son was trying to kill his sister.”

  Ed shook his head. “Wade figured everything out, you know. He finally understood why I’d done everything I had.” He expelled a shaky sigh. “Why I’d failed him and his mother so much…”

  “He loved you,” she said, grasping at straws. She needed to keep him talking, needed to distract him so she could figure out how to save Mark. “He was trying to protect you from being arrested.”

  Ed sighed. “Yes, he was a good boy.”

  “I’m a good boy,” Mark murmured sleepily.

  “You are,” Turner agreed. “It’s just too bad…”

  “You don’t have to do this,” Caroline said. “Please, don’t do this.”

  “My daddy says you’re not my friend,” Mark said as he fully awakened and noticed the man standing over his bed, holding a gun on his mother. “And you’re not just playing.”

  “No,” Turner admitted almost regretfully. “I’m not just playing.”

  And no matter what Caroline said, she doubted he would change his mind from carrying out his revenge on Thad. He wanted Thad to suffer as much as he was suffering.

  She regretted now not telling Thad earlier about Mark. He had missed all the important milestones the boy had already passed. He had missed so much, and now he would never have the chance to make up for what he’d missed.

  And she would never have the chance to tell him how much she had loved him and would always love him…even after she was gone.

  BLOOD COVERED THEIR FACES.

  No matter how much carnage he’d seen in war, Thad knew he would never forget this sight—never get out of his mind finding bloodied bodies on Christmas Eve.

  His hand shook as he reached out to check for a pulse. The skin was already cold, as cold as the blood now running through Thad’s ve
ins.

  He lifted his cell phone to his mouth. It was on, his connection open to Ash, who’d been driving too slow and carefully. So Thad had lost him. “I’m sorry. Your guys are dead.”

  The police officers were slumped inside their car, one lying over the dash, the other over the steering wheel. Turner was definitely not drinking, not when he was able to move as quickly and dangerously as he had. He had definitely done more than just sell his equipment to soldiers and spies; he’d demonstrated how to use it himself.

  He was exactly like Thad, more dangerous than he seemed.

  Ash’s curse crackled in the phone. “Wait for me and SRT.”

  “No.”

  “We’re only a couple minutes out—”

  “That’ll be too late.”

  If it wasn’t already….

  If the same scene didn’t await Thad inside the house.

  “Don’t you dare go in there,” Ash said, his voice sharp with anger and fear. “It’s a trap.”

  “I know.”

  And if Mark and Caroline were already gone, he didn’t particularly care.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The policemen were dead. If they weren’t, they would have tried to rescue her and Mark. But Caroline and Mark had been alone with the gunman, the killer, for a while now.

  She hadn’t been able to keep him talking. They had all fallen silent some time ago, Mark nodding off to sleep again in her arms as she sat in the living room next to the fallen Christmas tree.

  But Ed Turner hadn’t shot them yet. He was waiting.

  For Thad.

  “I’m a teacher,” she said. “The most popular teacher at my elementary school.” She wasn’t bragging; she was trying to get him to know her, so that it wouldn’t be as easy for him to shoot her as it had been for him to shoot the policemen who’d been guarding her and Mark. “My kids keep coming back to visit me. They threw me a baby shower when I was pregnant with Mark. I was alone when I had him, and I raised him alone for the first three years of his life. He means everything to me.”

  “And you mean everything to him,” Turner assured her with an almost sympathetic smile. “When he was at my house, he talked about his daddy, but he wanted to be with his mommy.”

  Tears stung her eyes and tickled her nose. But she couldn’t give in to them and risk succumbing to hysteria. He would probably shoot her then just to keep her quiet. And she would leave her son at the mercy of the madman.

  “He was a good boy at your house,” she said with all the certainty as if she had been there, too. “He always minds his manners and is considerate of other people.”

  “He was very good,” Turner admitted. “He said please and thank you and even may instead of can. He’s a smart kid.”

  “Very smart,” she said with more than maternal pride—with an educator’s assessment. “My second-graders aren’t as polite and mature as Mark. He’ll grow up to be a fine young man.”

  Turner’s sympathy turned to pity now. And he shook his head. “No, he won’t. But the two of you will be together, just like you both wanted.”

  She tried to suppress it, but a cry of dismay slipped through her lips. Mark shifted in her arms, reacting to the noise and her fear.

  “I won’t make you suffer,” Turner promised.

  “No, you just want to make me suffer,” Thad remarked as he passed through the archway between the kitchen and living room.

  She hadn’t seen him. But Turner must have, because he stood far enough behind the foyer wall that Thad would not have been able to shoot him. Turner would have been able to shoot her and Mark, though.

  “We’ve been waiting for you,” Turner said with an edge of frustration. “You took your damn sweet time getting here.”

  “Sorry about that,” Thad said conversationally, as if he was used to guns and violence and death.

  But then Caroline reminded herself that he was used to all those things.

  “Were you waiting for your brother and SWAT to back you up again?” Ed asked. “They won’t get in here fast enough to save them.”

  “Or you,” Thad agreed. “But that’s your plan, too.”

  “What?” His dark eyes narrowed as if he mentally tried to assess how much of his plan Thad had figured out.

  “You want to kill yourself,” Thad clarified.

  Turner grinned and shook his head. “No, I want you to do it.”

  Thad nodded. “Death by cop.”

  “You’re not a cop.”

  “No,” he agreed. “But I’m not a reporter, either.”

  “Spy?”

  Thad nodded. “I became one because of you.”

  That startled Turner enough to turn more fully toward Thad and away from her and Mark. She understood now what Thad was trying to do, distract Turner enough for her and Mark to get out of the line of fire.

  While he stepped into it…while he gave up his life for hers.

  She wanted to tell him now what she should have earlier. She didn’t hate him at all. She loved him. But if he was successful, she would never get the chance.

  Mark would never get to really know his father, either. But, as the little boy was awake now, and frozen with fear, he would forever remember the image of his father dying right in front of him.

  He was too young now to understand the sacrifice his father was willing to make. He would only remember that Santa hadn’t brought him what he’d wanted for Christmas this year. Instead he’d taken away the only chance of the boy ever having a family.

  WHILE TURNER WAS FOCUSED ON HIM, Thad was focused on everything else. Ash and the SRT had arrived outside and were creeping toward the house. But they wouldn’t burst inside until Ash heard the go word through the open cell connection.

  And he wouldn’t get the go word until Caroline and Mark were able to take some kind of cover. The fallen Christmas tree wouldn’t protect them. But if Caroline could somehow flip over the couch and get herself and Mark behind it…

  She wouldn’t meet his gaze for him to try to convey the message to her. Was she still so angry with him that she couldn’t stand to look at him? But then she was more focused on their son than on him. She had wrapped her arms tight around Mark, as if to shield his body. And she’d also covered his eyes and ears as if to shield his mind.

  Turner laughed. “You’re smooth, Kendall. I’ll give you that, but you’re not smart enough to fool me. Do you think I’d actually believe I had any influence on your life?”

  “You, more than anyone else, has,” Thad replied. And he realized as he said it that he spoke the truth. “When you killed my parents, you destroyed my childhood.”

  “Your parents did that,” Turner said. “They weren’t who you must have made them out to be in your mind. You idolized memories tainted by the way the media portrayed them.”

  “The media did romanticize them,” Thad said.

  “So you have no idea what they were really like,” Turner insisted, as if he was trying to justify killing them. “You were much better off with your aunt and uncle.”

  “Yes,” Thad readily agreed. “Aunt Angela and Uncle Craig were wonderful guardians to us. But you’d already done your damage that Christmas Eve you murdered my parents in their beds.”

  “I did you a favor when I killed Joseph and Marie,” Turner said almost desperately. “I protected you from them. They didn’t care who they hurt,” Turner said in defense of his actions. “They would have hurt you, your brothers and Natalie—my daughter.”

  Thad nodded. “Probably. But they never would have hurt us as much as you had.”

  “I never laid a hand on any of you. I just went into Natalie’s room. But after what I’d done, after losing my temper with Joseph and Marie, I knew I could never tell her I was her father.” He glanced down at his hand, as if still seeing their blood on it.

  That was what he would have seen every time he’d tried to see Natalie.

  “And no matter how much success I’d earned,” he said, “the Kendalls would always have more
.”

  “More?”

  “More money. More influence. More stuff.”

  “None of that mattered to us,” Thad insisted.

  Turner uttered a bitter laugh. “Tell Wade that. Oh, you can’t…because you killed him.” He turned back toward Caroline and Mark.

  “You think we cared anything about the stuff?” Thad asked. “You ruined Christmas for us. You didn’t just take away our parents. You took away hope and wonder and joy. For the past twenty years not one of us ever had a merry Christmas.”

  He had Turner’s attention again. But he cared less about distracting him than about telling him everything that Thad had just suddenly realized himself. “You gave us nightmares. Natalie used to wake up nearly every night with them, screaming over the memories she was only able to suppress when she was awake. When she was asleep, the blond-haired bogeyman with the dark eyes—” how had no one ever realized that it was Ed Turner she’d seen that night in her room? “—would come back, and this time he would take Uncle Craig and Aunt Angela and me and Devin and Thad. He would take everything away from her.”

  “I—I left her there because I didn’t want that,” Ed said, as if he’d made a great sacrifice in not kidnapping his own daughter.

  “You want to make me suffer now,” Thad reminded him, “because I saved her from your son. I saved your daughter’s life, and you want to take revenge on me for that?”

  Turner gasped as Thad’s words finally penetrated his rage and madness to the brilliant mind of the man who’d invented top-secret communications for the State Department. “Oh, my God…”

  “You would rather have sweet Natalie, who you had already made suffer for twenty years, lose what little happiness she had just managed to finally find in her life?”

  “No,” Turner sputtered, “I—I didn’t want her to suffer.”

  Thad shook his head as disgust overwhelmed him. “I became a spy because I hadn’t been able to save my parents that night, because I hadn’t been able to protect my family from the utter devastation of your careless actions.”

  “No.” Turner shook his head. “It wasn’t about that. Your parents only cared about money and status. Your mother would have affairs just for attention, to make herself feel desirable and special and to make your father jealous. She never really had any intention of leaving him. Not because she loved him but because she loved being his wife. She loved the money and the prestige of being Mrs. Joseph Kendall. She just used me.”