In Too Deep

by Janelle Taylor

  The door opened wide. It was Jenny. A wild-eyed Jenny whose face was white enough to give him real concern. “I’m sorry,” he said, not knowing what else to say in the face of her devastation. “I’m sorry. I just want to protect you.”

  “Too late!” she said, a bubble of hysteria rising in her throat.

  “Jenny … ?” He stepped inside without being invited, shouldering past her, glancing around, all senses on alert. If he’d had a gun on him he would have drawn it. It was automatic. A cop’s reaction.

  “He’s not here. He left. For now.”

  “Russell?” Hunter asked, swinging around to look at her.

  She nodded. “And my son …” With that she broke down, hands on her face, sobbing for all she was worth.

  “Jenny.” He pulled her into his arms. She resisted for half a moment, then collapsed against him. “What do you mean?”

  “He took Rawley.” Feeling Hunter tense, she choked out, “No, no … Rawley wanted to go. They’re just—at the movies.” Her last words were a gasp.

  Hunter eased her to the couch. Full-blown hysteria was only seconds away. He knew the symptoms—he’d seen them in Michelle after her fights with Troy. “What did he do?” he asked quietly. Michelle would never fully confess, but Hunter knew it was bad.

  He wanted to kill Russell.

  Jenny wouldn’t answer. Maybe she couldn’t.

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “I don’t have a mark on me,” she said bitterly.

  He turned her around by her shoulders. “Jenny, listen to me. I won’t let him hurt you again. Do you understand?”

  “I can’t think. He’s”—she quivered beneath his palms—“worse than before.”

  Hunter’s jaw tightened. “He’s a sadist.”

  She sagged against him. “Yes …”

  He held her close, listening to her shallow breathing. What would Russell do now that he knew the truth about Rawley? Hunter didn’t believe the man possessed a conscience. All he wanted was whatever intrigued him at the moment. And money. And sexual power over women.

  “He won’t hurt his son,” Hunter said.

  “You said you know him,” she answered, her voice muffled against his jacket. “Do you really believe that?”

  “I know I won’t let him.”

  “How do you know him?”

  He hesitated, certain this wasn’t the time to go into the tragedy of Michelle’s death. Hearing that he believed Troy had killed her wouldn’t do Jenny any good—especially while Rawley was with the man. “I knew him in Los Angeles.”

  “Did my father contact you?”

  “Yes. Through his lawyers.”

  “I don’t understand,” she murmured, pulling away and drawing a hand across her forehead. Her cheeks were flushed; her eyes feverish. “I’ve got to leave for Santa Fe as soon as possible. Tonight. I’ve got to get away from him.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “I can’t—” She twisted her hands together. “I can’t ask you.”

  “I’ve got to go back sometime. We’ll go together.”

  “I …”

  The phone rang and they both jumped. Jenny looked toward it as if it were a loaded gun aimed at her, but then she murmured, “Rawley,” and picked up the receiver. Hunter followed after her.

  “We’re back!” Magda’s voice came singing over the line. “Jenny, my dear, hurry up and get here. Santa Fe’s bee-yoo-tiful. And your restaurant! My God, girl! We drove by it on our way to the house and it’s practically ready to go right now.” She stopped and listened to the silence. “Are you there?”

  “Yes.”

  “You okay?” she asked with real concern.

  Jenny swallowed. She was never going to be okay again. “I’m looking forward to Santa Fe.”

  “Have you heard from Hunter since you’ve been back?”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t sound too happy.”

  “Oh, Magda, I can’t talk now. I’ll be in Santa Fe by the end of the week.”

  “Okay,” she said, her exuberance doused by Jenny’s terse replies. “Hang in there. Phil and I love you lots.”

  “Love you, too,” she said, hanging up quickly, feeling like she was about to break into pieces. She glanced at Hunter, whose strength and silent understanding were what she needed more than anything. She wanted to fold herself into his arms, but she didn’t trust herself. And she didn’t completely trust him either. Instead she drew a deep breath and said in a steadier voice, “I’m going to start packing.” Then she brushed past him on the way to her bedroom closet.

  Troy sat through the dumbest film he’d seen in a long time. Some kung-fu thing that was supposed to be smart and funny but he couldn’t stand the female lead. Every time she kick-boxed some 300-pound male into submission it was all he could do not to laugh aloud. What she needed was somebody to give it to her but good. She did have fine tits though, held up nice and high with a stretchy top. He just wanted to slap her face hard.

  Pulling a pack of gum from his pocket, he folded a strip into his mouth. The kid shot him a quick look and Troy silently asked if he wanted a stick. The boy shook his head. Troy surreptitiously examined Rawley’s profile. Looked a lot like Jenny in some ways, but definitely a Russell. Yessirree. He laughed softly to himself, remembering the expression on Jenny’s face! Oh, what a bitch! Hiding the kid all these years. It made him want to crow with delight. He had her now. And the old man, too.

  The irony was enough to make him roll on the ground in fits of laughter.

  “Do you like it?” the kid asked him, so anxious to please that Troy almost ruffled the boy’s hair with a sort of affection.

  “I like the action.”

  “Yeah. Me too!” He went back to his absorption in the exciting movie.

  Charm. That’s all it took. Even with a fifteen-year-old kid. How hard would it be to turn Rawley against Jenny? Not hard at all, by the look of things. And what would she do to win back his favor? Anything, he guessed.

  For a few moments he allowed himself the pleasure of picturing her groveling on the ground in front of him, crying and begging. He crumpled up his fist, then released it, smiling. He could have her any way he wanted her. Any way.

  Hands and knees. Up against a wall. Across a table. She acted so damn tough but he had her now.

  When the movie ended Troy reluctantly ended his pleasant thoughts. He wanted the money, too. And he wanted it soon. He was rapidly running out of cash and he was pretty sure the credit card Patricia had given him was at its limit. The second-rate hotel he was staying at would be wanting him to hand over the card again soon if he kept staying on.

  “What do you want to do now?” the kid asked as they left the theater.

  “Maybe I should take you back to your mother.”

  The swift, dark rebellion that crossed his face tickled Troy through and through. “I never want to go back.”

  “Oh, come on, now. It’s getting late. Don’t you have school tomorrow, or something?”

  “I’m not going back to school here. We’re moving.” As soon as he’d said it he asked urgently, “Where do you live?”

  “I’m kind of moving around right now. And you’re going to Santa Fe.” It had been a nasty jolt to realize Jenny’s ultimate New Mexico destination was Santa Fe. Santa Fe was where that broken-down cop Hunter Calgary had settled after Troy got him fired, and Troy had zero interest in tangling with him again. As far as Troy was concerned, Calgary was a bloodthirsty lunatic, and Santa Fe was too small a town to hold both of them. He sure as hell hoped Calgary had moved on.

  “I don’t want to go,” Rawley declared. “I never did. I want to stay right here with my friend Brandon.”

  “Now, wait a minute, wait a minute …”

  “Mom’s got a restaurant there,” he said, a hint of pride entering his voice despite his professed desire to stay away from Jenny. “It’s opening up. Supposed to be really good food.”

  He kicked at a stone as they
walked toward Troy’s rented car. Seeing the Ford pissed Troy off. He needed a Lexus or a Porsche or a Jaguar. God, how he’d wanted to kill Frederica when she’d taken the keys to her spare Mercedes back. And all because she was a bipolar freak.

  “When are you leaving?” Troy asked.

  “I dunno. Sometime this week.”

  Troy’s anger congealed to a cold fury that consumed him from the inside out. The cagey old bastard Allen Holloway had neglected to mention Jenny’s plans. Lucky for him that motor mouth waitress at Riccardo’s had clued him in; luckier still that he’d connected with Rawley because the boy was a fountain of information.

  “But I’m not going,” Rawley said again, full of bravado. “I’ll stay with the Fergusons if I have to.”

  “Now, hold on. I happen to live pretty close to Santa Fe.”

  “You do?”

  “You know where Taos is?” Rawley shook his head and Troy congratulated himself on familiarizing himself with all Frederica’s properties. Sure, the place would be locked up tight, but there was always a way inside. “Got a place there. Not much. Just a little stucco ranch house about an hour’s drive north of Santa Fe.”

  The boy’s eyes shone. “Really?”

  “Yep.”

  “What do you do?”

  Troy felt the first twinge of resentment toward the nosy little bastard. “Investments. Stock futures. Stuff like that.”

  “Oh.”

  They got into the car and Troy headed back to Jenny’s. “I’ve got some things to do, so I’m going to drop you off and get going.”

  “You don’t want to see my mom again,” he said sagely.

  “No, your mom’s a great lady. Just gotta make an appointment.”

  Charm.

  Rawley seemed to want to say more, but Troy was vastly relieved that he kept his trap shut. When Rawley closed the door, then turned back and asked, “You going to be here tomorrow?” in that casual way kids thought hid anything but their stupidity. Troy had to fight to keep his genial smile in place.

  “Probably. See ya, kid.”

  As soon as he put the car in gear and turned the corner, Troy let out a pent-up breath. He wasn’t sure he liked the kid. Too much of a pretty boy. Maybe he’d be better when he got older.

  But he sure as hell gave Troy the leverage he needed.

  Rawley watched his father’s car drive away, the taillights winking red in the evening shadows. He was conflicted with emotions. Mostly he was truly pissed at his mother. She’d pretended his dad was some kind of loser deadbeat. It was all a fake. He could’ve been with his dad all this time if she had told the truth.

  And she was always on him to tell the truth! He marched up the stairs and heard a woof from below. Glancing down, he found Benny loping toward him. “Hey, dummy,” he said affectionately. “Why don’t you like my dad?”

  Benny jumped all over him and Rawley grabbed the dog by the ears in a mock wrestling match. Benny pretended to bite and growl until Rawley glared at him and waggled his finger in the dog’s panting face. “Bad dog. My dad’s a good guy.” Benny’s aversion to Troy had been kind of embarrassing.

  At that moment the door opened and a strange man stood in the light. The man froze upon encountering Rawley and Benny. Benny growled at the man, then he snuffled at his shoes and looked up like an old friend. The man scratched the dog’s ears as if he’d done it for years.

  Who the hell was this?

  “Who’re you?” Rawley demanded.

  “Hunter Calgary.”

  “Mom?” He dodged past the man, alarmed. His mother was nowhere to be seen.

  “She’s packing. In the bedroom.”

  Rawley whirled around, filled with resentment. He gazed at the guy, measuring the width of the man’s shoulders and the strength of his chest. Not a wuss. Something else. Something he didn’t want to think about. “Mom!” he called louder.

  “Rawley!”

  He heard her muffled cry of relief and that bugged him. She’d been fit to be tied when he left with his dad.

  She came out of the room and rushed toward him, hugging him hard once. He didn’t generally mind much. She was his mom. But tonight he practically pushed her away and he looked away from the hurt on her face. Guilt gnawed at him, but he turned his attention on the stranger.

  “Rawley, I’d like you to meet Hunter Calgary.”

  “Hi,” he said carefully.

  “Hello, Rawley.”

  He wore jeans and a tan shirt and looked like he worked out a lot. Rawley was liking him less and less. Especially now.

  “Hunter’s a friend of mine,” Jenny said into the silence that followed.

  Friend? Rawley wanted to scream. You don’t have guy friends!

  “He’s helping us move to Santa Fe.”

  Rawley’s head whipped up. “I’m not going.”

  “Well, of course you’re going.”

  “I’m not. I’m staying here with Brandon.”

  Jenny started to say something, caught herself, tightened her lips, then pinned him with a certain look that always made him squirm. He tried hard not to move. There were critical issues at stake here. He didn’t want that guy to even talk, and he shot him a look that said so. The guy raised his eyebrows quizzically. Rawley couldn’t tell if he was amused or not.

  “I’m sure this is about Troy,” Jenny said. “Trust me. If he can find you in Houston, he’ll find you in Santa Fe.”

  Something weird was going on. She sounded completely defeated. “I like him,” Rawley said instinctively.

  She nodded. “He can be very charming.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “He wasn’t nice to me, Rawley. If you want to know more, ask. But you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

  “Yeah? Well, he says really nice things about you!” he yelled.

  “It’s not what he says, it’s what he does.”

  “What does he do? What does he do, huh?” Rawley demanded. Seeing his mom was about to tell him, he cut in, “Don’t say it. Don’t talk to me. It’s all going to be lies anyway. That’s what you do. Lie! You lied to me! I’m not going to Santa Fe!”

  With that he stomped to his room and shut his door hard behind him. Not a slam. He was just letting them both know that they couldn’t push him around.

  He pressed his ear to the panels. Footsteps, approached and he stepped back hurriedly, grabbed a basketball and began tossing it from hand to hand, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He heard his mother’s soft knock. “Yeah?”

  Jenny poked her head around the door, her hair swinging away from her cheek. She was pretty, his mom. He was proud of how pretty she was. The other guys kinda got tongue-tied around her sometimes. “I’m tired, Rawley. I’m going to bed.”

  “What about him?” he asked swiftly, alarmed.

  “Hunter’s leaving. We’ll see him again on Friday. We’re going to caravan to Santa Fe. Good night.”

  He was going to Santa Fe? Rawley flung the basketball down and clamped his teeth together. He didn’t swear much. Not like Brandon. His mother would throw a complete fit if she heard him using bad language. But he tried out some choice words in his head to describe Hunter Calgary. He whispered them aloud, then glanced nervously at the closed door.

  He knew what that guy had to be thinking when he looked at his mom. It really burned him. Why wouldn’t she look at his dad? That’s what she needed to do. Then he could have his parents back together again.

  That’s what he wanted.

  That’s all he wanted.

  Hunter let himself out onto the porch and turned around to look at Jenny. Her face was partially shadowed, but he could still see how drawn it was. He wanted to assure her that everything was going to be all right, but he couldn’t. He knew Troy Russell, knew how dangerous the man really was. So did Jenny.

  At the door Jenny didn’t know what to say. Hunter shifted his weight, reluctant to leave. After an uneasy moment, he said, “You shouldn’t be alone here.
”

  “I know.” She turned slightly to glance at her son’s closed bedroom door. “I can’t have you here.”

  “I’m concerned about your safety.”

  “You don’t have to go with us,” she said, ignoring him. “We can make the drive to Santa Fe by ourselves.”

  “I’m going. I’ll be here bright and early Friday morning.” He cleared his throat. “Still, you need someone here now.”

  “No, it’s okay. Just a few more days. Like you said, he won’t hurt Rawley.”

  “I’m going to be around. Watching.”

  She nodded. It was a relief to know that if she really needed help it would be nearby. “I hope he doesn’t come by again.” Hunter gave her a look that said she was being incredibly naive.

  “He’s going to go straight to your father,” Hunter predicted.

  “I should call him, I suppose. Warn him.”

  “I think he’ll be calling you,” Hunter said, his mouth lifting faintly at the corner.

  She lifted her brows.

  “He and I had a-meeting-this afternoon.”

  “He knows about us?”

  “I am no longer in his employ.”

  Jenny mustered a smile. Hunter longed to lean forward and kiss her, but sensing his need, her smile faded. She might never forgive him, he realized. She liked him enough to keep him around, and she knew she needed him right now, but what they’d shared might never happen again. Life was like that.

  “Good night, Hunter,” she said, closing the door.

  He waited until the lights had been turned off before he left to the cold comfort of a night watching from his Jeep.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Built around a central plaza that stood at the end of the Santa Fe Trail, the city of Santa Fe looked like heaven to Jenny. Her pioneer spirit had been born out of an almost lifelong need to escape her roots. She drove around the plaza with its territorial and pueblostyle buildings, art galleries, restaurants, and the Palace of the Governor’s Museum. She drove down Canyon Road, once an Indian footpath, now lined with art galleries and restaurants, then headed east to one of the more upscale residential areas.

  The condo she’d rented wasn’t much fancier than the apartment she’d just left, but it cost more. Still, she’d been lucky. Most of the condominiums in her complex were owner-occupied, but her particular unit’s owner hadn’t used it much and had finally decided to rent it out. Jenny had been at the right place at the right time. She could have drawn on her inheritance to move into something pricier, but she wanted to plow some of it into the restaurant and keep some in reserve while she waited to see if her venture made a profit.