Protecting His Secret Son

by Laura Scott

  Mike nodded in agreement. “I didn’t get the sense that your brother would call Fresno if he was in trouble. Do you know who he might turn to for help?”

  “I wish I did.” She toyed with a french fry, twirling it in ketchup.

  “What about his friends from college?” Mike pressed.

  She hesitated, then glanced up at him. “Ryker Tillman went through the criminal law program with Duncan and they joined the academy together.”

  Mike filed the name away, wishing he’d thought of bringing the laptop. “Easy enough to call him, see if Duncan reached out.”

  Shayla nodded, seeming happy to have another person to talk to. After an hour had passed, they headed up to the cardiac ICU, which was also conveniently on the third floor.

  “Hello, my name is Lori and I’ll be your father’s nurse for the rest of the afternoon.”

  “Is he awake?” Shayla asked hesitantly.

  Lori nodded. “He’s still a bit groggy, but go ahead and talk to him.”

  Mike followed Shayla and Brodie as they entered her father’s room. Ian O’Hare looked pale against the linens. The last time he’d seen Ian O’Hare, at his father’s funeral, the guy had dark hair with just a touch of gray at the temples. Now all his hair was silver. Because of the stress of the job? Or leading a double life?

  “Dad? It’s me, Shayla. I’m here with Brodie.”

  Ian turned and opened his eyes at the sound of Shayla’s voice. “Shay,” he whispered.

  “I spoke to the doctor. He said you’re doing great.” Shayla’s voice was husky with emotion and Mike could see the sheen of tears in her eyes.

  “Duncan?” Ian asked. “Did he find what he needed?”

  “Duncan isn’t here now, but I’m hoping he’ll come by soon.” Shayla glanced at Mike, who shrugged. He had no idea what Ian had meant by his question. “What was Duncan looking for?”

  Ian didn’t answer right away, his brow furrowed as if he’d forgotten what he’d said.

  “Dad?” Shayla leaned over the side rail so she could catch her father’s gaze. “What is Duncan looking for?”

  “Don’t worry, Shay. He’ll find it...” Ian’s voice tapered off and his dark eyes closed.

  Mike stared at the police chief thoughtfully. Was he rambling because of the medications he’d been given after surgery? Or was Duncan really searching for something?

  And if so, what?

  Or maybe the better question was who?

  * * *

  Shayla wiped the dampness from her eyes, not wanting Brodie to notice the evidence of her tears. She should be thrilled that her father was doing so well. The monitor overhead beeped in a soothingly steady beat.

  After watching her father for a moment, shaken by how weak he looked lying in a hospital bed, she turned to Mike. “We can leave now, if you like. I don’t want to tire him out.”

  Mike nodded. “We’ll try to come back to visit later.”

  She smiled gratefully. “I’d like that.” She leaned over the side of the bed and pressed a kiss to her father’s cheek. “Love you, Dad.”

  He gave a brief nod without opening his eyes. As much as she wanted to stay, she knew keeping Brodie occupied for several hours at the hospital wouldn’t be easy. Besides, she suspected her dad would sleep a good portion of the day and he needed to rest.

  Where in the world was Duncan? And what had her father meant when he’d asked if Duncan had found what he was looking for? She knew Mike had noticed the comment as well, and could tell his mind was already spinning with possibilities.

  She led the way out of the ICU and into the hall. Brodie skipped beside her, seemingly unaware of how sick his grandfather was.

  “What did your dad mean about Duncan finding what he was looking for?” Mike asked while they waited for the elevator.

  “How should I know?” She knew her voice sounded testy and tried to maintain control. “It’s probably nothing. He just had surgery, I’m sure he had no idea what he was saying.”

  The expression on Mike’s face reflected his doubt but he didn’t press the issue.

  “Uncle Duncan?” Brodie asked as they walked into the parking structure.

  Shayla looked down at her son in confusion. “Where? Is he here? Do you see Uncle Duncan?”

  “Over there.” Brodie waved a chubby hand to their right.

  “Oh, no, sweetie. That’s not Uncle Duncan.” The man standing near a parked car was decades older than her brother.

  She belatedly realized that her son was remembering the incident from their first visit to the hospital when she and Brodie and Duncan had stood hugging each other for a long moment over the news of their dad’s surgery. Then a car had driven up and Duncan had abruptly pulled away from her to go over to talk to the driver of the car. Her footsteps slowed. She frowned, trying to remember. Had the car been a black sports car, sitting low to the ground? She didn’t think so. Her brother had bent over to talk to someone inside, but not as much as she imagined the height of a sports car to be.

  “Something wrong?” Mike asked.

  “Huh? Oh, no. I’m fine.” She forced a smile. “It’s nothing. I just wish Duncan was here, that’s all.”

  Mike nodded but looked at her with an odd expression, as if he were trying to read her mind.

  “Do you mind stopping at a grocery store? I need to pick up another box of cheesy fish crackers.”

  “Not a problem,” Mike readily agreed.

  There was a store within a mile of the hospital and when they went inside, Brodie ran straight to the carts that were shaped like cars on the bottom with a wire basket on top. He eagerly crawled inside the car, making vroom-vroom noises as Mike pushed the cart up and down the aisles.

  The errand didn’t take long, although Shayla was overly conscious about how they must have looked like any other family out for a few groceries. In addition to the crackers she picked up a few essentials like milk, bread, peanut butter and jelly. They picked up a couple of frozen pizzas, too.

  Mike pulled out his wallet.

  “Oh, I can get it,” she protested.

  But he silenced her with a quick shake of his head. “It’s the least I can do.”

  She held her tongue, understanding his need to do his part to support his son. It wasn’t necessary. His determination to do what was right only reminded her of how much her life and Brodie’s would change once the danger was over.

  Once they were settled in the SUV, she quickly filled the plastic bag in her purse with fish crackers and tucked it away before Brodie could see them.

  “We’ll head back to Hawk’s cabin,” Mike said, pulling out into traffic toward the freeway sign. “I’d like to find out where Ryker Tillman is located.”

  “Okay.” She turned to look out the passenger’s-side window, wishing she hadn’t mentioned her brother’s friend. She inwardly sighed and told herself to get over it. Finding Duncan was all that mattered right now. She feared her brother was in trouble, that his undercover work had somehow put him in grave danger.

  As Mike drove, she noticed he kept glancing at his rearview mirror. The way he was constantly on alert should have been reassuring but wasn’t.

  It only reminded her of the danger they’d faced the day before. Meeting with Peter Fresno hadn’t been enlightening, but it hadn’t been dangerous, either.

  “Mommy? I want my blocks.”

  She twisted in her seat to look on the floor. One of Brodie’s blocks was down there, but from that angle she couldn’t see the other. Stretching out her arm, she managed to pick up the blue block.

  “Here’s one of them.” She lightly tossed the plastic block into her son’s lap. “I don’t see the other one.”

  “It’s over there,” Brodie said, pointing at the floor directly behind her.

  Of course it was.

  She had to unl
atch her seat belt to get up on her knees, so she could see the red block. She managed to snag it with her fingers and handed it to Brodie.

  “Don’t drop them,” she warned. “If you do, they’ll stay on the floor until we reach the cabin.”

  “I won’t.” Brodie began to hit the blocks together in a way that made her wince.

  Mike left the freeway, taking the highway leading to Hawk’s cabin. But after just two miles, he hit the brake. “Well, that figures.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Construction. They’re sending us on a detour.” Mike turned left at the orange detour sign, the road barely wide enough to qualify as a highway.

  “I hope we don’t get lost.” She looked around at the unfamiliar terrain. The flat farmer’s fields had grown sparse as they’d headed into a wooded area.

  “We won’t. I have a good sense of direction.” Mike’s voice reeked of confidence and she found herself remembering how attracted she’d been to him four years ago.

  Mike was the epitome of the strong, silent type. A rock under most circumstances, but he’d given her a glimpse of his underlying vulnerability the night he’d argued with his father.

  The night he’d come to her, seeking solace, clinging to her as if he’d never let her go.

  But he had let her go. Had pushed her away until she’d had no choice but to accept that what they’d once shared was nothing more than her imagination.

  Pulling her thoughts away from the past, she noticed a sign announcing a narrow bridge ahead. She leaned forward, craning her neck to see the river flowing beneath.

  “That’s a big river,” she said in awe.

  Mike nodded. “The Wisconsin River runs from the northern part of the state all the way down to the Mississippi River. It’s unusually high because of all the rain we’ve had the last two months.”

  Having been born in Nashville, only moving to Milwaukee when her dad had got a promotion within the Milwaukee police department, she didn’t know very much about the state’s history.

  Mike slowed the vehicle as they approached the narrow bridge. It was a beautiful stone structure with two arches underneath and a thin wire fence lining the road on either side. The fence was disconcerting, not looking strong enough to stop a car from tumbling over the side directly into the rushing water beneath.

  Lush greenery blanketed the shores of the river. Tall trees full of green leaves, no doubt getting sustenance from the fresh water.

  They were almost to the halfway point of the river when a sharp report rang out.

  “Someone’s shooting at us!” Shayla instinctively ducked. “Mike!”

  “Hang on,” he said grimly. He abruptly hit the brake pedal and came to a screeching stop. Then he yanked the gearshift into Reverse and stomped the gas again, going back the way they’d come.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Trying to throw them off.” Mike didn’t let up on the accelerator, and Shayla instinctively prayed.

  Dear Lord, help keep us safe!

  Another gunshot echoed but there wasn’t the sound of a metallic ping indicating they’d been hit. Had Mike’s maneuver worked? The trees at the mouth of the bridge added cover, making it more difficult to see them clearly.

  When they reached the end of the bridge, or rather the same place they’d originally started, Mike cranked the steering wheel, bringing the front end of the SUV around so that he could drive them out of there.

  But he misjudged the angle, cutting it too much.

  Shayla swallowed a scream as the back end of the SUV sank deep into the muddy shoreline. Mike shifted into gear and hit the gas.

  The back tires spun, but the SUV didn’t move.

  They were stuck!

  SEVEN

  Panic gripped Mike around the throat. He hadn’t been able to tell where the shooter was located and feared the gunman was already making his way toward them.

  “We need to get out of here.” He shoved open his door and scrambled out of the SUV. He hurried around to the other side of the vehicle, no easy task in the mud, to join Shayla. She’d pulled Brodie out of his car seat, holding his bag of cheesy crackers in one hand. The child’s hiccuping sobs tore at Mike’s heart.

  “This way. Hurry!” he urged, indicating they should take cover beneath the stone bridge.

  “I...can’t,” she protested, struggling to maneuver through the mud while carrying the added weight of her son. The mud was sucking at her feet, keeping her rooted to the spot.

  “Brodie, I need to carry you for a while, okay? You’re too heavy for your mom.”

  Shayla’s stricken gaze caught his but she nodded and handed Brodie over. The little boy was frightened enough at the situation not to be concerned who was holding him. Brodie wrapped his arms around Mike’s neck, holding on tightly.

  Shayla stayed close as well, curling her fingers into the back of his waistband. Without the added weight, she was able to pull her feet from the muck. He moved slowly but surely through the water until they were directly under the bridge. The sound of rushing water was louder there and he hoped the sound was enough to keep them from being overheard.

  “It’s okay. We’re going to be fine.” He spoke to Brodie and Shayla in a low voice, trying to keep them both calm. He was grateful for the shelter of the bridge and the towering trees overhead that offered some additional protection, too.

  But their discarded SUV was like a beacon for the gunman. That and their muddy footprints along the shore.

  “We can’t stay here...” Shayla whispered as they huddled beneath the stone arch.

  “I know.” Mike reached into his pocket for his phone. He tried Hawk’s number first but the call went to voice mail. Next he tried his brother Matt, who worked as a K-9 cop, and was relieved when Matt answered on the first ring.

  “What’s up, Mike?”

  “We’re in danger. I need you to pick us up ASAP,” he said quickly. “We’re hiding under a stone bridge roughly five miles off Highway 68 near the town of Cranton. We’ll be on the north side of the bridge, across from where the SUV is located. Bring Duchess and a spare weapon because we’ll be on the move.”

  “Will do.” To his brother’s credit, Matt didn’t ask a lot of questions. “Keep your phone handy.”

  “Understood.”

  Mike’s feet were growing numb from the cold river water and he knew Shayla must be feeling the same way. He wanted desperately to cross the river, but the water was deep enough that they’d have to swim. The May temperatures were mild but he knew being in the icy river could result in hypothermia.

  Especially for Brodie.

  But staying where the gunman could find them wasn’t an option, either.

  “We need to get away from the SUV,” he told Shayla. “We can swim across and the water will carry us to that cluster of trees roughly twenty feet from the other side of the bridge. I know it’s cold, but I don’t think we can risk staying here.”

  “Okay. I can swim.” What Shayla’s tone lacked in confidence was countered by the steely glint of determination in her eyes. “Will you be able to manage with Brodie?”

  “Yes. But he’ll get wet.”

  “I know, but he’ll be okay.” She shivered and glanced up at him. “Ready when you are.”

  He nodded but then remembered his phone. “Wait. I need the bag of fish crackers for my phone.”

  Shayla nodded and handed it over. He carefully inserted his phone and zipped it shut. Then he put it in his breast pocket, hoping to minimize the risk of it getting wet.

  Shifting Brodie in his arms so that the upper part of the child’s body would be out of the water, he sent up a silent prayer for strength and waded into the river. Brodie cried because he was cold and gripped Mike even tighter.

  “Shh,” Mike cautioned. “We need to be quiet, okay?”

 
Brodie pressed his face into Mike’s neck, muffling the sounds of his sobs. Mike knew it was the best they could do. When the bottom dropped away, he performed an awkward sidestroke, kicking with his feet to propel him across the river.

  Shayla was beside him, doing her best to keep up. Ignoring Brodie’s crying wasn’t easy and he could tell it was bothering her. He wished he could have carried her across, too, but there wasn’t enough time to make two trips.

  They needed to get someplace safe and soon.

  “I—I’m c-cold.” Brodie was clutching him so tightly around the neck Mike found it difficult to breathe.

  “Almost there,” he said in a low whisper. “Remember, we need to stay quiet, okay?”

  Brodie nodded but the sniffling sobs continued. Mike glanced around the river, scanning the shoreline for signs of activity. For several minutes they would be in full view of anyone nearby.

  Was there enough time to get across without being seen?

  He kicked again and again, fighting the current to stay on track to reach the cluster of trees.

  His feet suddenly hit the bottom and he floundered for a moment until he could get his feet under him. Then he waded quickly up the riverbank to the base of the trees.

  “We’re safe now,” he said, setting Brodie down on the ground. Glancing over his shoulder he noticed Shayla was struggling to get out of the water. He rushed over to help pull her to safety.

  “Hold Brodie on your lap,” he instructed. “And sit between these two trees. You need to share your body heat until Matt can get here.”

  “Wh-what a-b-bout y-you?” Shayla’s teeth were chattering loudly.

  “I’m going to take a look around.” He glanced around, believing they were out of sight from anyone on the bridge, but still reached up to pull down a few branches, using them as cover for Shayla and Brodie.

  “Don’t go.” Shayla reached out to grasp his leg. “Please stay with us.”

  “I won’t go far,” he promised.

  Her fingers reluctantly dropped from his sodden jeans and he forced himself to move away.