by Laura Scott
“Not here,” Hawk said quickly, glancing around the restaurant. At ten in the morning, it wasn’t jam-packed, but he still felt as if they were too exposed, too noticeable. “There’s a motel across the street. Let’s move there.”
“Fine with me,” Ryker said, pulling cash out of his pocket and tossing it on the table. “Let’s go.”
“I want pancakes,” Lizzy announced.
Hawk glanced at her in surprise. For a moment he’d forgotten she was sitting beside him. “Sure thing. We’ll order you some pancakes to go.”
The order didn’t take long, and soon they were back outside and across the street at the Family Inn Motel. They rented a room and crowded into it.
Jillian set Lizzy up on the bed with her pancakes and cartoons. When Jillian returned to sit beside him, he put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick hug.
“Nice work recognizing Habush. It’s another angle to investigate.”
“Makes me wonder if there are two teams after us.” She frowned. “Maybe Habush is the guy who tossed the classroom looking for the photos, while others came to my house.”
Hawk shrugged. “Anything is possible, but I think they’re all one and the same.”
“Found him,” Ryker announced. “Hawk was right. Habush was the team leader for Delta. In fact, I think Duncan O’Hare might have been on Team Delta, too.”
Hawk leaned over to see the computer screen for himself. “Does Habush work for Blake-Moore, as well?” He knew Duncan O’Hare didn’t, because he was also a Milwaukee cop, like Matt Callahan.
“You got it.” Ryker tapped the screen. “All roads lead to Blake-Moore. I still think I could infiltrate the company. Or we could ask Duncan for help.”
It wasn’t a bad plan, but Hawk knew there wasn’t enough time. His shoulder felt as if it were on fire. “We can still go to the Habush home and convince Olivia to talk.”
“And if her husband is there? Along with Yonkers? Then what?” Jillian clearly didn’t like the idea.
“We can do a little recon, first,” Ryker said in a placating tone. “We don’t even know if anyone is home.”
“I like that idea.” Hawk wanted, needed to keep moving. “We’ll check things out and then let you know what we find.” He looked at the Callahans. “I need you to stay here.”
“I’m coming with you,” Mike said quickly. “Matt and Duchess can keep an eye on Jillian and Lizzy.”
“I agree.” Jillian’s comment surprised him. “I’d rather there were three of you in case you run into trouble.”
“We’re only checking things out,” Hawk reminded her.
“Yes, but no one knows we’re here,” she argued. “We just arrived ten minutes ago. Please take Mike with you.”
“Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?” Matt asked. “Don’t forget, I am a cop.”
Hawk put his hand on Matt’s shoulder. “I’m trusting you and Duchess to keep the two most important people in my life safe from harm.”
All hint of humor fled from Matt’s gaze. “I know. We’ll be fine.”
Hawk rose to his feet and gestured toward the door. “Time to go.”
Mike and Ryker followed him out into the cold winter air. The sky overhead was cloudy, but not enough to indicate snow was on the way.
He let Ryker drive. Ryker drove past the Habush home, but there were no lights on and no vehicles in the driveway, leading him to believe no one was home.
“We need to get closer.” He leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse of the back of the house as Ryker made a circle around the block. “Drop me off here.”
“Why don’t you let me go?” Mike offered.
“This is my problem.” Hawk pushed open the passenger-side door before Mike or Ryker could argue further.
The cold air made him shiver, or maybe it was the fever he was fighting off. Using evergreens for cover, he inched past the house and into the backyard of the Habush home.
He froze when he noticed the back door of the home was hanging ajar. Not good, considering it was late December.
Moving silently, he approached the house. When he was close enough to a window, he peered inside.
A kitchen chair was lying on the floor, amid broken tableware.
Had the place been ransacked, like Jillian’s home had been?
And if so, why? What in the world was going on?
THIRTEEN
Jillian found it impossible to sit still, but every time she tried to pace Duchess would wind between her legs, to the point she kept tripping over the beautiful German shepherd.
“Here, Duchess.” Lizzy patted the bed. The K-9 gracefully jumped up and snuggled in next to her.
Worrying about Hawk was useless. He had plenty of support between Ryker and Mike, not to mention being a highly trained special ops soldier. He was much stronger and more dangerous than anyone she’d ever met. Yet earlier this morning she’d noticed his face looked pale and drawn, and she’d caught him massaging his injured shoulder whenever he thought no one was looking.
How much longer before he’d agree to go to the hospital for treatment? She feared that delaying medical care would end up causing more damage to the injured muscles in the long run.
But Hawk was stubborn. More so than James had been.
She prayed for Hawk’s, Mike’s and Ryker’s safety, and for Olivia’s, too. She trusted the men not to do anything rash, but it was still difficult for her to believe that questioning Yonkers’s younger sister was their only option. She couldn’t help thinking of Olivia and her three-year-old son, Aaron.
Not so different from her and Lizzy.
“Mommy, look! The Grinch Who Stole Christmas is on!”
She turned in time to see the green-faced Grinch scowling from the television screen. “That’s great, Lizzy.”
“That’s Rory’s favorite show,” Matt spoke up. “He would watch it every day if we let him.”
She was curious about the Callahan family who were apparently the only friends, beside Ryker Tillman and Duncan O’Hare, that Hawk had. “How old is Rory?” she asked.
“Three and a half,” Matt answered. “He’ll be four in February.”
“Lizzy will be five in March.” She sat down beside Matt. “I can’t believe she’ll start kindergarten next year. She’s ready, but I’m not.”
“I know, they grow up fast.” Matt scratched Duchess behind the ears. There was a moment of silence before he continued, “I want you to know Hawk has been very supportive of the entire Callahan family over the past couple of years. We’ll have his back on this until we get to the bottom of whatever is going on. We all owe him a huge debt of gratitude.”
“Thanks. That means a lot to me.” She stared down at her hands. When Hawk had brought the jewelry box to the cabin motel, she’d slipped the diamond ring back on the fourth finger of her left hand along with the plain gold band. She’d thought he’d say something, but he hadn’t. Or if he had noticed the rings, he didn’t let on. Finally she lifted her gaze to Matt’s. “Hawk is different from the man I married.”
Matt frowned. “Because of his scar?”
“No, I don’t care about that.” She waved an impatient hand. “The scar only adds to the air of mystery around him. Do you know he lived next door to me for five months and I never once suspected that he was James?”
Matt lifted a brow in surprise. “Why do you think that is?”
“Well, for one thing, it never occurred to me that my husband wasn’t actually dead. But I think it’s even more than that. Hawk is more intense. Less talkative.” She couldn’t seem to put her feelings into words. “I can’t explain it, but he’s different. In so many little ways.”
“I can understand that, but deep down, he’s the same man with the same values.” Matt shrugged. “It’s not that different for me. Rory is my son in every way, except biologicall
y. He is actually my wife Lacy’s nephew. Lacy’s sister was murdered, so she was forced to go on the run with Rory to keep him safe. Once we found out who killed her, we were able to formally adopt Rory. He was about nine months old. But even without the paperwork, I always felt as if he was my own flesh and blood. Lacy is pregnant, and I can’t imagine loving the new baby any differently from Rory.”
“Wow, I had no idea.” She glanced at Lizzy, realizing her daughter’s situation was almost the exact opposite. Hawk was biologically Lizzy’s father but hadn’t been a part of her life over the past four years.
Until now.
Once the danger was over, she and Hawk needed to talk about the future. The idea of going back to living in separate houses, even if they were right next door to each other, wasn’t good enough.
She wanted more. She wanted it all.
The engagement ring glittered on her left hand next to the gold wedding band. She wanted a family.
* * *
Hawk pushed the door of the Habush home open while remaining plastered against the side of the house, his Glock held ready.
He had no idea what he might find upon going inside.
It was likely no one was in there, but he refused to make rash assumptions. He was beginning to think Jillian had pegged it correctly when she suggested there was more than one team after them.
Why else would one team turn on the other?
The back door opened into the kitchen. He silently entered the house, avoiding the broken bits scattered across the floor. Keeping his back to the wall, he ventured further inside.
He frowned when he found the living room apparently untouched. Nothing seemed to have been disturbed.
The place hadn’t been ransacked, after all. Clearly something had gone down in the kitchen, though.
And where were Olivia and Aaron Habush?
After clearing the living room, Hawk made his way down the hallway to the bedrooms. Those rooms hadn’t been disturbed, either, although they appeared more lived in. There was a master bedroom and a kid’s room, judging by the train motif. Clothes were strewn about in the child’s bedroom, giving Hawk the impression they’d left in a hurry.
Why? And what had happened in the kitchen?
He poked his head one last time in the master bedroom, searching for a clue behind what had transpired here. There was a framed photograph on the bedside table. He crossed over to pick it up, to examine it more closely.
The photo was a family picture of Tim, Olivia and Aaron Habush.
There was something about Habush that nagged at him. But when he tried to think back to his time in Afghanistan, he couldn’t place the guy. Either because of the holes in his memory or because he hadn’t interacted with him very much. The fact that Habush was the leader of the Delta team made him fear it was his memory.
Which brought him back to the possibility that his brief memory around Senator Rick Barton wasn’t accurate, either. Every last bit of circumstantial evidence they had all pointed to the Blake-Moore mercenary group.
After replacing the photo where he’d found it, Hawk moved back to the kitchen. He stared at the scene for several long moments, trying to imagine what had transpired.
Remnants of breakfast food were on the table, bits of scrambled eggs and bacon. He crossed over and felt the coffeepot: it was still slightly warm. Glancing back at the table, he noted one of the chairs had a booster seat, no doubt used by the little boy, Aaron. The broken dishes were on the floor near the overturned chair, which was right next to Aaron’s booster seat. Seemed logical that Olivia might have been the one sitting beside her son.
Only two plates and one broken coffee cup. Did that mean Tim hadn’t been here before they left? That he’d burst into the kitchen to grab his wife because he was in a hurry to leave? So much so that he hadn’t bothered to make sure the door was closed and locked behind him?
Had Olivia resisted for some reason? Maybe leaving the back door open as a warning sign that something bad had happened?
There was a scrap of paper on the floor, half buried by a broken piece of a plate. Hawk picked it up. It was a receipt for gas purchased last week.
The location of the gas station was near Brookland Elementary. He clenched his jaw, even though the receipt didn’t tell him anything new. Jillian had already identified Tim as being at the school the day after she’d called Fort Bragg about the envelope Hawk had sent her.
But it gave him an idea. He opened kitchen cabinets and drawers until he found one full of paperwork. When he rifled through them, he found more credit card receipts.
Scanning the purchases, he felt adrenaline surge through his bloodstream. There were several charges for gas, and he found one that had been made near the area of his cabin.
Tim Habush was part of the team in coming after them at the cabin—that much was clear. And likely in on the gunrunning, as well. But that didn’t explain why he’d taken his wife and son and bolted out of their home.
He took every single receipt he could find, stuffing them deep into his pockets so he could review them more closely later. At least the gas receipt put Tim Habush near his cabin and provided a connection to Yonkers.
Still, it wasn’t enough, and as Hawk slipped back out of the house and back toward the SUV where Mike and Ryker waited, he wondered why these guys were always a step ahead of him.
When he stepped outside, he came up short when he sensed someone nearby. He lifted his Glock, then slowly lowered it when he recognized Ryker.
“You were gone for a long time,” Ryker said. “I’ve been covering the back, and Mike is out front.”
Hawk should have expected his buddies wouldn’t simply sit and wait. “Thanks, but there isn’t anyone inside.”
Ryker nodded. “What did you find?”
Tillman’s keen perception made him smile. “Let’s get back to the motel where we left Matt and Jilly. I’ll show you what I have.”
Ryker didn’t argue. “Stay here. I’ll get Mike.”
When Ryker moved to the front of the house, Hawk looked down at the ground, looking for tell-tale signs of a struggle, mentally kicking himself for not checking sooner. Still, he could see where he’d come in but couldn’t tell between Ryker’s boot prints and several others.
He was losing his touch. Sure, maybe it was the infection developing in his shoulder, but the moment he’d noticed the back door was open, he should have scouted the ground for clues.
His gaze narrowed on several broken tips of a bush beside the house. There was a hint of blue thread on the tip, maybe from denim jeans.
It was looking more and more like Olivia and Aaron were hauled out of here against their will. He just wished he understood why.
“Hawk? You okay?”
Hawk turned to face Ryker and Mike who had both been inside the house. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.”
The trip back to the motel didn’t take long. Jillian ran to him as he entered the room.
“Hawk! Is everything all right?”
He knew she was mostly concerned about Olivia and her son. “The house was empty,” he quickly informed her. “But it looks as if they left in a hurry. And maybe not of their own volition.”
Jillian paled. “What do you mean?”
Hawk described the scene in the kitchen as he pulled crumpled receipts from his pockets and dumped them on the small table. “I can’t explain why Olivia’s husband or her brother would drag her out of there like that. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“What’s all this?” Matt began straightening the receipts.
“Found one for a gas station near Brookland Elementary on the same day Jillian saw Tim Habush checking out the second-grade classroom. And then another one for gas several days later, only this time it was a station not far from my cabin. So I grabbed all of them to see what else we can link together with what
has been happening.”
They spread the receipts out and began reviewing them. Hawk found a third receipt for a fast-food restaurant near Jillian’s house. The date stamp was for Friday, the same day her home had been breached by two masked men.
He thought it was possible Tim Habush and Colin Yonkers had been staked out nearby, watching Jillian’s house until it was time to make their move.
“Wait a minute, do you notice that none of these receipts are for anything past Saturday?” Jillian spoke up.
“I have two from Friday,” Hawk said, lifting them up for her to see. “This is three total, all near places you and I have been.”
“But none are more recent.” Jillian scowled. “It’s almost as if Tim Habush hasn’t been home since Friday.”
At that moment it clicked. The reason Tim Habush’s photo had nagged at him back at the house.
It was the man he’d unmasked at Jillian’s house. The same one he’d recognized outside his cabin.
Tim Habush was dead.
Hawk had shot him in self-defense.
* * *
Jillian caught the flash of horror in Hawk’s gaze and instinctively knew what he was thinking.
“He was one of them, wasn’t he?” she asked softly. “Up at the cabin.”
Hawk slowly nodded. “He’s dead. He shot at me, so I returned fire.”
Jillian’s heart ached for Hawk. A woman she didn’t know was a widow, her son fatherless. She felt bad for Olivia and Aaron Habush, yet knew Hawk hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone. The way he’d left the men alive at her house proved it.
But that hadn’t prevented him from doing whatever was necessary to save her and Lizzy.
Hawk abruptly stood, pushing away from the table. The space inside the room was cramped and she could tell he wanted to get out.
“We need to head back to the cabin motel.” He avoided looking at anyone directly. “We’ll stay one more night, then find somewhere else to go.”
“Why not just stay here?” Ryker asked.
“Um, there aren’t enough rooms open,” Mike spoke up. “No connecting rooms for sure. When I paid for this room, the manager told me that there was only one other vacant room on the other side of the building. I guess it must be too close to the holiday.”