Running Target

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Running Target Page 11

by Kari Lemor


  Pascucci gave a brief nod then walked away.

  “I’m so glad you came down today. And Jonathan, how is my grandson doing?”

  Her son jumped up and down chanting, “Hi Dampa. Hi Dampa. Hi Dampa.”

  Victor’s eyebrows rose. “Enthusiastic today, aren’t we? Maybe we should find something for you to do to expel some of that energy. Would you like to go to the playroom until dinner, Jonathan?”

  The child squealed, “Yup,” and continued to jump up and down.

  She took his hand, apologizing. “Sorry, Victor, the long ride, you know. The playroom would be great.”

  “Why don’t you head down, my dear, and I’ll follow you in a minute. I have to check on something in my office first.”

  She nodded and walked down the hall. The playroom was in the back of the house and she had to admit it was nice of Victor to set the room up. He’d put all sorts of toys and games for a young child to play with. Jonathan loved the little slide and the toddler trampoline in there. Of course it also kept him occupied so Victor wouldn’t have to entertain him. Not that her son would ever be here without her around.

  As she walked by the office, she slowed down, peeking in. Victor gazed down intently at the pictures she’d viewed before. And he was scowling. Did he realize it was her? Would he storm out, demanding to know what she was doing with the man who’d killed his son? No, she’d looked hard at the pictures and with the hood and jacket, you couldn’t even tell how big or small she was. Unfortunately, her hips in jeans were a dead giveaway it was a woman.

  He put the pictures in his drawer and she scuttled away from the door. As Victor emerged, his brows drew together and his lips tightened as he looked at her and Jonathan who were a small way down the hall.

  She made it seem as if they were just coming back. “Jonathan wanted you to see him go down the slide by himself. He ran back here before I could catch him. Are you done with your business?”

  Victor nodded and followed them to the back of the house. Sensing his grim mood, she grew nervous. But then she thought of Jack stroking her heated skin, kissing her nipples, and she knew she needed him in her life as much as Jonathan did. Maybe she could do a little snooping herself, disguised as concern, of course.

  “Is everything all right, Victor? You seem a little distracted.”

  They entered the playroom and Jonathan ran to the toddler slide, yelling for everyone to watch him. She turned caring eyes to Victor, hoping maybe he’d confide in her.

  “It’s nothing you need to worry about, my dear. Thank you.”

  Reaching out, she touched his arm, something she rarely did. But maybe showing some compassion might help her reach the man, make him slip up in some way.

  “I don’t like to see you so troubled. Is it the package Oscar brought in? I saw him deliver something to your office. I hope it didn’t upset you.”

  Victor patted the hand on his arm. “You are too sweet, Callina. It’s one of the things Angelo loved about you. He always said you would be the perfect wife for a man like him. The package contained pictures of the monster who killed my son. He was almost within reach but somehow got away. I assure you we will find him and make him pay for what he did.”

  Tears welled in her eyes and she looked away. Victor patted her hand again.

  “I know, my dear, I miss him, too.”

  He thought her tears were for Angelo. Well, let him think it. In the meantime, she wondered if she could take another risk and find any useful information to help Jack.

  They watched Jonathan scamper from toy to toy for a while then went to dinner when Oscar informed them it was ready. Dinner was solemn, Victor talking about all the wonderful things Angelo had done, and Callie trying to keep from cringing. Luckily, Angelo had never pushed her in the sex department. It was apparent to her he’d preferred men over women, and was the main reason she’d agreed to continue seeing him to help the cops. Well, and Jack. Something about Jack had pulled her in and made her want to be in his presence. She still wanted to be there.

  After dinner, Victor led them into the family room and pulled out a photo album. Jonathan climbed up next to him as he opened the book. This was a ritual whenever they came here. At some point Jonathan would become confused with the pictures of Angelo, but for now, he liked looking at them. What would she tell him then?

  As she watched, she thought more and more about the future. Jonathan called Jack ‘daddy’ now and had almost given that away at his birthday party. Could they keep it up? He was too young to understand he shouldn’t say things in front of Victor. It might become too risky. But the alternative was telling Jack to stay away and cutting all contact with his son. Her heart wept at the possibility.

  An idea formed in her mind. Nothing too risky but perhaps she could find a little information that might be helpful. Pulling the diaper bag over, she took out her phone, muttering.

  “Victor, my phone battery died. Do you think I could use yours? I promised Heather I would call her and let her know what time I’d be home tonight. She needed to pick up something she left at the house last week.”

  “Of course, dear,” he said, offhandedly, still reminiscing with the photographs. “Use my office.”

  Callie nodded her thanks, slipped her phone in her pocket then left the room. In his office she sat down at his desk and picked up his phone. Sure enough the cordless device stored all the numbers of recent calls. She quickly began to go through them, storing them in her own phone. Maybe they’d get lucky and one of the big wigs Victor had in his pocket had called recently.

  She became so engrossed in this task she didn’t hear the door open until Oscar called to her.

  “Miss, Mr. Cabrini says the young lad has fallen asleep on the couch.”

  Shoving her phone back in her pocket, she hung up the one on the desk. “Thank you, Oscar. I guess it’s time to bring him home.”

  Victor seemed uncomfortable when she walked in. Such a difference between him and Jack. Jack loved sitting with the sleeping boy in his lap. He’d stare at him, enjoying every second he had. Victor, on the other hand, looked like he had better places to be and needed the lump removed from his side.

  “I’m sorry, Victor, Heather needed to tell me about her parents. Some problem they’re having with their house in Maui. I should get Jonathan in the car and head home.”

  Scooping up her son, she rested him on her shoulder. “Thank you for dinner. It was wonderful as always.” She did mean that. Victor had one of the best cooks around.

  He got to his feet, patted her shoulder then tousled Jonathan’s hair. The child barely stirred when she picked him up, put him in his car seat and drove away. At the first light, Callie clicked on her Bluetooth and pressed the number for Aunt Agatha. Jack would be worried when he saw her number. She never called him. Texting was one of her typical forms of communication. But she wanted him to know about the phone numbers.

  As she waited for him to pick up, she said a little prayer that one of the numbers she’d gotten would be the key to Jack’s freedom. It would mean her freedom from Victor as well.

  * * * *

  “Mama, juice?”

  Callie looked down from stacking brownies on a plate and smiled at her son.

  “Hey, little cowpoke. You thirsty?”

  Jonathan nodded and his cowboy hat slipped a bit. She pushed it back on his forehead then reached under the buffet table for the diaper bag with his sippy cup in it. She filled it with some of the juice on the table then handed it to him.

  “Here you go, sweetie. Don’t drink it too fast.”

  Jonathan took a few sips then handed it back, looking around the big room, his eyes wide as saucers. This was big doings for him. Last year he’d only been fourteen months old and she hadn’t done much with him for Halloween. The church housing the preschool he attended always threw a big party for the children and parents duri
ng the afternoon in lieu of going house to house at night, so she had allowed him to attend. And volunteered to help set up.

  “Do you want to go pull some ducks out of the water, Jonathan? I think you get a prize if you get the right duck.”

  He turned to see his teacher, Miss Sue, waving to him. Would he go over by himself or would he need her to go also? Which would she prefer? She wanted her baby to always need her but it would also be nice to have a few minutes to herself every now and then. Plus she needed to finish setting up the snack table.

  The child shuffled his feet and looked from her to his teacher. Then Madison, one of the girls in his class, skipped to their teacher so he nodded vigorously and toddled her way. A bittersweet sigh slipped from her mouth as her little boy joined his classmate.

  She watched for a minute, loving how Jonathan proudly showed off the hat, chaps, vest and bandanna of his cowboy outfit. Madison reciprocated showing off her wings and fairy wand. Callie set out a few more snacks then glanced at her own costume. Jonathan had insisted and she’d been told all the parents typically dressed up.

  Her saloon girl dress was conservative compared to some Heather wanted her to wear. The cap sleeves did slip off her shoulders occasionally and the bustier part pushed her minimal chest into showing a bit more cleavage, but the skirt twirled all the way to her knees. High, lace up boots covered the rest of her legs. These were borrowed from Heather’s younger sister, Charlotte, and she laughed that the girl actually wore them out in public. The heels were at least three inches.

  Having finished the snack table, she wandered around making sure the children were having a good time and keeping a constant eye on her son. He barely acknowledged her. Galloping on his stick horse from game to game, he enjoyed every minute with the other children.

  What would it be like if Jonathan had other children at home to play with? This thought entered her mind far too often. She was only twenty-six, plenty of time to have other children, but would it ever happen? Would her circumstances ever allow her that kind of relationship with another man?

  And could she ever love someone the way she loved Jack? Loved. In the past tense? He was still in their life, yet he wasn’t. So close and yet so far. The familiar words haunted her at times, especially when she saw other parents interacting with their children and showing such love and affection for each other. She wanted that. But she wanted it with Jack.

  Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Get yourself out of the doldrums and concentrate on making sure the children are having a good time. Looking around, she could tell they were. And so were most of the parents, though the occasional dad seemed uncomfortable in his costume, probably one his wife made him wear.

  Scanning the variety of costumes, she spotted another cowboy, this one much bigger than her son. He was tall and lean, the long duster unable to hide the firm chest and trim hips. His cowboy hat tipped low over his forehead and his bandanna covered the lower half of his face. Obviously, a vigilante who’d just robbed a train or a bank.

  His appearance stirred something inside her, making her uncertain though not necessarily in a bad way. Who was he? She knew most of the dads from the preschool. Not that you could tell with half his face hidden. No wife seemed to linger anywhere nearby to keep the single moms away.

  She kept her eye on him as he strolled along the outskirts of the room, his gaze focused on the children. Who was he looking for? Or looking at? As her eyes followed the direction he faced, she saw Jonathan attempting to throw a bean bag into a witch’s cauldron. The man was looking at her son.

  Her protective instincts kicking up, she bustled across the room. Maybe his gaze was innocent but she needed to know who he was and why he was checking out her son. She moved up behind him, attempting to see under the brim of the hat.

  His body tensed and he turned. Lifting his chin, the bandanna slipped lower. Familiar steel-gray eyes bore into hers.

  “Happy Halloween, Calico.”

  Chapter 11

  “Jack?” Callie said, under her breath, relief warring with anxiety. Somewhere deep inside, her traitorous body was also glad to be near him again. “What are you doing here?”

  “Don’t freak out, Callie, I’m in disguise. Plus, none of these people know who I am and the place is packed. One more costumed dad won’t be amiss among the crowd.”

  She couldn’t argue but she still worried. Always worried about Jack. Anxiety, along with guilt, were companions she lived with daily. Things would be different if he hadn’t taken up with her. He might still be undercover or maybe he would have gotten enough evidence on Victor to put him away for good by now. Falling for Jack may have ruined everything.

  Except now she had Jonathan and she’d never regret him, or the nights that had led to his conception. It had been a little slice of heaven, and she’d never felt so happy and loved.

  “Nice costume.” Jack’s now exposed lips curled into a grin as his eyes roamed down her torso, lingering on her breasts pushed out by the tight top.

  She pulled up the drooping sleeves. Why did she let Heather talk her into this costume? But she’d needed to match with Jonathan somehow. Maybe a horse costume would have been a better choice. Not as revealing and figure hugging.

  “You, too.” She eyed Jack closer now. Faded jeans hugged his lean hips and showed off his trim waist. A plaid button-down shirt smoothed across his firm chest which was partially covered by a long, tan duster jacket. A cowboy hat, bandanna, and even well-worn cowboy boots completed the ensemble.

  Her eyes flicked around the crowded room again. No one seemed to be paying any attention to them. She took a step closer to him, though it was a dangerous thing to do. Proximity and Jack were a combustible combination.

  “What are you doing here?” she repeated, her voice husky and low. He’d always liked when she spoke that way in the bedroom. Would he remember it now?

  His eyes flared with desire. Yeah, he remembered. Turning to glance at Jonathan, his wide shoulders rose and fell and when he looked back at her, his emotions were under control.

  “Jonathan asked me if I could come see his costume when we Skyped last week. I couldn’t let him down. He was so excited about being a cowboy.”

  She narrowed her eyes as she gazed at his apparel. “Seems like Jonathan isn’t the only one excited about being a cowboy.”

  He pushed aside the edge of his duster, looking down at the star pinned on his chest. “Not any old cowboy, Calico, I’m the sheriff.”

  She chuckled at the pride in his tone, reminiscent of Jonathan showing Madison his costume. Some boys never grew up.

  “And here I thought with the bandanna covering your face, you might have just robbed a bank.”

  “Nah, trying to keep the dust out while riding on the trail of a nefarious outlaw.”

  “And did you find anything out about our nefarious outlaw from the numbers I gave you?”

  Jonathan finished his game, looked around the room and spotting her, galloped in their direction. Jack nodded then knelt on one knee. “I’ll tell you later.”

  “Hi, towboy.” Jonathan chirped, looking up at his father. “I towboy, too.”

  “I can see that, pal,” Jack said, then pushed back his hat, further revealing his face.

  Jonathan’s eyes opened wide, his face radiating love. Callie’s heart squeezed tight, wishing for so much more than they could have right now.

  “Dahdee.” Jonathan began to jump up and down but Jack settled him swiftly.

  “Not too loud, pal. Daddy’s in disguise and I’m looking to round up the bad guys.”

  Jack showed him the badge on his chest. “See, I’m the sheriff. But I need a deputy to help me. Think you could help me round up the bad guys and put them in the hoosegow?”

  “Hoosetow?” Jonathan’s face wrinkled in confusion.

  “It’s jail where the sheriff puts bad guys.” Jack pu
lled out another star from inside his coat and pinned it to Jonathan’s vest. “You ready to help me?”

  Jonathan nodded vigorously.

  “Hey, pal, remember I’m the sheriff. That’s what you need to call me. Can you do that?”

  Jonathan’s eyes sparkled with mischief. They were so like his father’s it stole Callie’s breath away. Too many times she’d seen that look right before he’d scoop her up and kiss her senseless. Then they’d remove each other’s clothes and explore every inch of exposed skin. She wanted him to do it now.

  “Otay, Sheff.”

  Jonathan’s voice brought her mind back from its wanderings. Get a grip. Getting lost in memories of Jack won’t do anything but make you frustrated.

  “Why don’t we show the sheriff some of the games you can play here,” she suggested.

  Jonathan was more than willing to drag Jack along to each game, Callie moving around with them. People would wonder if she allowed some stranger to hang out with her son. None of them knew the real story of Jonathan’s father. She’d merely said he wasn’t around anymore. They could think what they wanted. She honestly didn’t care. They didn’t have anything to do with Victor.

  Jack made sure to keep in the shadows if he could. It was apparent he was proud of Jonathan and wanted everyone to know this was his son, but he’d never say anything. It broke her heart. Why couldn’t they be a normal, loving family? She asked this question far too often.

  They stopped to take snack breaks, but Jonathan wanted to try each game and activity at least a few times. He was thrilled with the little prizes he kept winning and his goody bag filled up quickly. When his energy finally ran out, she signaled for Jack and he scooped the child into his arms. Grabbing the diaper bag, which also held her purse, she said good-bye to a few of the other parents who had volunteered.

 

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