Within Range (HQR Intrigue)

by Janice Kay Johnson - His Best Friend's Baby

  “We know that Richard has hunted long and hard for you. He has to have spent a fortune paying investigators. Do you think for a minute that he wouldn’t be watching your mother and sister? That if she were to go in for surgery, he wouldn’t know?”

  No. She didn’t think that. He wasn’t just abusive. It had become increasingly obvious that beneath the surface he was an obsessive, crazy man.

  “Would Allie be happy to have a new kidney if you died giving it to her?”

  “But I wouldn’t necessarily—”

  “If Winstead had a shot at you, I think you would,” he said. “Is your sister still eligible for a kidney?”

  Robin bobbed her head.

  “Then there’s time for you to give her one. I’d rather bring that creep down first, but if this drags on, we’ll go to Seattle and I’ll make damn sure nothing goes wrong, for you, your sister or Jacob. Do you hear me?”

  It took her a minute to regain enough composure to raise her head. He meant it, every word.

  That movement inside, the fault line, cracked wide open. Robin had always known she could love him. She just hadn’t imagined it could happen from one second to the next and be so painful. Remembering what he’d said about his younger self, she thought, He still has that swagger. She believed he’d try to keep his promise, but how would she live with herself if he died?

  * * *

  HE’D LIKE TO THINK he had gotten good at reading what Robin was thinking, but there’d been the one moment, an expression Seth didn’t understand. Hope, disbelief, fear. Taken together, what did it mean?

  He shook the worry off and concentrated on his search, eliminating the Brad or Bradley McCormicks not the right age, who’d never lived in the Seattle area, who didn’t meet the description Robin gave him. Why didn’t anyone of that name appear on the list of Winstead’s former and current employees that Hammond had forwarded to Seth?

  An alternative name caught his eye: Braedon McCormick. Seth tugged at the string. This McCormick had been in the army, deployed twice to Iraq, then went to work as a deputy in Lewis County south of Seattle. Didn’t last long there, although Seth couldn’t determine whether he’d been fired or quit. Following his brief stint in law enforcement, he became an investigator with a somewhat sketchy-seeming PI firm. His name popped up a couple more times...and that was it. Seth tried every option he could think of, concluding at last that only two likely reasons for the disappearance existed. Number one, Braedon had moved out of state; it could be tedious trying to pull up a driver’s license or PI license application in another state. Number two, he was dead, albeit with no fanfare. No investigation into his death, no obituary, no funeral.

  Seth listened to the clatter from the kitchen where Robin was putting together lunch. Dad would be showing up any minute; one of his buddies from his cop days was giving him a ride home.

  Seth stretched as he debated calling Hammond to talk about this McCormick guy. There was a lot he didn’t want to say, but a Seattle PD officer might be able to find something Seth couldn’t.

  While he was still waffling, his phone rang. Hammond.

  “Renner here,” he answered.

  “Thought I’d let you know Winstead is staying put for the moment,” the sergeant said. “Real conspicuously. Went out for a fancy breakfast this morning with a female tech executive, then stopped by city hall where he somehow corralled a journalist to give a statement about a proposed referendum. Last report, he went to Palisade for a waterfront lunch with one of the mayor’s assistants.”

  “Pricey?”

  “Very,” Hammond said drily. “Gotta wonder what his plans are for dinner.”

  “Listen, Ms. Hollis remembers a man who worked for Richard who isn’t on your list. Last name McCormick. He went by Brad, but I think his legal first name is Braedon.” He shared what he’d learned about the man.

  “He might technically still have been working for the PI outfit,” Hammond said. “Does Ms. Hollis think he could have been the one who grabbed her kid?”

  No, she thinks the guy is dead wasn’t something Seth was prepared to share.

  “That’s a possibility. He was a sometime-driver for Winstead, but she thought he was more of a bodyguard.” He hesitated. “During the months while she was trying to find an opportunity to leave the bastard, this McCormick was always there, watching her.”

  “All right,” Hammond said readily. “I’ll start digging.”

  Question was: Would he unearth a body?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Robin shut the bathroom door in Michael’s face, wishing it had more than one of those useless little push-button locks that could be opened with a bobby pin. Jacob could probably pop it.

  Not that Michael would try. No, he’d just linger where he’d be sure to see her when she came out.

  That seemed to be the Renner men’s plan: keep an eye on her at all times. Since Jacob also tended to trail her, she was about ready to go seriously crazy.

  She closed the toilet seat and sat down, digging her fingers into her hair and tugging. What would they do if she didn’t come out?

  Fiddle that stupid lock to open the door, that’s what. In Michael’s case, he’d act solicitous, be anxious to know why she felt compelled to hide. Seth would just give her a smoldering look that said he was as frustrated as she was. And yes, sexual frustration definitely contributed to her mood. There was no way that she and Seth could make love again in this house with his father home. And where would they go that they couldn’t be followed? Outside, where anyone could walk right up to them? Head to his house, leaving Jacob vulnerable with only an injured man to guard him?

  She and Seth hadn’t talked about it. The closest they came was the first night after Michael was released from the hospital, when Seth walked her to her bedroom door and murmured, “Damn, I want to haul you off to my bed.”

  She’d squeezed her thighs together in a futile effort to stifle the powerful bolt of need.

  Yesterday, during Jacob’s naptime, Seth all but dragged her outside and around the corner of the house where he could kiss her until she was limp. Then he’d escorted her back to the deck where he gave her updates from his contact at Seattle PD.

  He’d probably wanted to kiss her before giving her the bad news. Braedon McCormick had vanished within a time frame that fit with her having caved in his head.

  “There’s a lot that’s hinky about it, though,” Seth had added. “Why wouldn’t Winstead have reported the death, if in fact he came home to find this guy dead? If your ex suspected you, he could have gotten you in trouble, which I’d expect him to enjoy. If he’d called 9-1-1 without mentioning you, SPD would have investigated the death under the assumption there’d been an intruder. I doubt they’d have considered him a suspect. Instead, it’s looking as if he buried the body or dumped it in the Sound.”

  She didn’t get it, either, although she repeatedly mulled over something else Seth had thrown out. What if she hadn’t killed Brad McCormick? Furious because his trusted employee had screwed up, her ex-husband could have finished the job, but realized he’d likely left forensic evidence that would give him away.

  She’d seen Richard’s icy rage when an employee hadn’t jumped high enough when he snapped his fingers. Yes, he was capable of murder in a temper as well as killing in cold blood—or, as the law put it, with malice aforethought. Say, an ex-wife who’d had no business leaving him.

  With a sigh, she finally gave up and left her bathroom refuge to find Seth and Michael engaged in what appeared to be an intense conversation in the kitchen. Seth broke off midsentence, and both their heads turned the instant she appeared.

  “You okay?” Seth asked.

  “I’m fine.” She’d chosen his least favorite words in the world.

  His jaw muscles knotted.

  She crossed her arms. “What were you two talking about?”

&n
bsp; “Making plans,” he said shortly.

  “While I was safely out of earshot?”

  His mouth tightened.

  “You know the smartest thing would be for Jacob and I to go somewhere Richard couldn’t find us. You could help me.”

  “Not an option,” he said curtly.

  “Why?”

  “You need to be free to live when and where you choose. To use your real name.” He glanced at his father then back to her. “To get medical care, visit your mother and sister.”

  She thought he was done. He wasn’t.

  “Get married.”

  Robin gaped at him. Was he implying...? Her heart felt as if it was playing hopscotch.

  Had she imagined that slight nod?

  After a moment, she said in a low voice, “I know you’re right. But your dad was hurt because of us, and if it happened again, to either of you—” She couldn’t finish, couldn’t say, If either of you died. She couldn’t forgive herself for that, either.

  “Hey.” Seth stepped forward and tipped her chin up. “Don’t worry so much.” He bent his head and kissed her lightly.

  It was the first time he’d done anything like that in front of his father, who had been a silent spectator to the scene. Had Michael already figured out that something was going on between them? Or had Seth told him?

  She backed away. “I’d better...um...” Spend some time with her son. That was it. She said so, and fled.

  * * *

  SETH COULDN’T HELP wondering why Winstead was so obviously keeping the world apprised of what he was doing and where he was doing it. He might as well be buying billboard space up and down I-5 between Seattle and Portland.

  Now, if Robin was wrong in believing that the guy’s ego would demand he kill her himself, his current public busyness made sense. With him so easy to track, he might think Robin and the police would relax. A hired gun could stroll right in and take care of her. With Winstead’s alibi well-established, he could go straight to court demanding custody of his son.

  As things stood, he’d get it, a truth that burned like acid in Seth’s gut. He had seriously considered suggesting a quick marriage to Robin so he’d have some legal claim on Jacob, but that wouldn’t give him any certainty of winning a custody battle, even with Robin’s medical records to show the judge. Didn’t matter that Winstead had never met Jacob, when he had the argument that the child’s mother had never given him the chance.

  He heard the rumble of an engine before he saw a large panel truck coming up his father’s driveway. Right on time. Seth went out to meet the lumberyard driver and help unload the door he had ordered. Installing it would give him something to do this afternoon.

  Given the thump the door made when he leaned it against the clapboard wall, he wasn’t surprised to let himself in to find Robin hovering.

  “I’m replacing the door,” he said.

  A smile played at the corners of her mouth and lit eyes that had been shadowed too often since he’d met her. “I don’t know if I want to stick around to hear the fireworks or not.”

  He turned on hearing the thunder of small, sock-clad feet. Jacob, coming to find out what was up. Seth squatted and the boy threw himself into his arms, allowing Seth to rise easily and swing him in the air. He chortled and held out his arms as if he was flying. He’d taken to galloping to find Seth half a dozen times a day so he could “fly.”

  Laughing with him, Seth felt a clutch beneath the breastbone. It was a credit to Robin that the boy had such an open, winning personality despite the ongoing fear she’d lived with. Seeing her in his freckled face didn’t hurt, either. Seth wouldn’t at all mind this kid calling him “Daddy.”

  Yeah, he was a goner, and twice over.

  “Gotta do some work, buddy,” he said, when he set Jacob down.

  Robin took the boy’s hand. “Do you need to go potty?”

  “No!” Jacob insisted. “No, no, no, no!”

  “Uh-oh.” Seth grinned at her. “The terrible twos may be upon us. Ah...where’s Dad?”

  “While you were outside, he took a pain pill. He said he thought he’d lie down for a while.”

  Seth grunted. “Why does everybody say, ‘I’m fine’ when it’s a lie?”

  “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe as an alternative to whining?”

  Laughing, he caught her close for a kiss.

  Robin laughed and blushed, too.

  Seth was able to remove the old door without a lot of racket. He was tapping a shim in place while installing the new one when Dad stomped into the kitchen.

  “Did you forget this is my house?” he demanded.

  “Nope.” Seth tested the swing of the door and decided he could go ahead and replace the molding and install the new dead bolt. “What? You wanted me to put in a new pane of glass as an invitation to break in?”

  His father glowered. “I keep my weapon close.”

  Seth narrowed his eyes. “Sure, but normally in a gun safe. You need the house to be secure enough that you have time to dial the combination and get the damn gun out. And I’ve decided I’d had enough of this argument.”

  With a snort that sounded like a bull about to charge, his dad stalked out.

  “He’s mad at you,” Robin said after a minute.

  Seth smiled. “Not really. It’s all bluster and fury.”

  “Butting heads is more like it.”

  * * *

  ROBIN HEARD THE shower running in the master bedroom bath when she slipped out into the hall after tucking in Jacob. Michael must be getting ready for an early bedtime. He’d tried to hide how much he was hurting today, but she’d been able to tell. The physical therapist he’d seen yesterday wanted him doing a set of exercises twice a day. Robin tried to stay out of sight when he did them so he didn’t feel as if he had to stifle all the pained sounds. She’d noticed Seth doing the same.

  Tonight, when she started downstairs, Seth was waiting for her at the foot. His eyes never left her. He might as well have been touching her, given the way her body activated in response.

  “Thought Jacob would never go to sleep,” he mumbled, and kissed her.

  That’s all it took for Robin to forget about her son upstairs, never mind Seth’s father. She flung her arms around Seth’s neck and rose on tiptoe so he didn’t have to bend over so far.

  He solved that problem by lifting her until she could wrap her legs around his waist and ride his erection. Groaning, he carried her to the kitchen, where he lowered her to the granite top on the island. His hands were free to rove, and she could still clasp her ankles behind his back and rub against him.

  Seth raised his head once and seemed to be listening before he dived back in with a kiss that was all raw need. Within seconds, Robin quit thinking. Here and now was good. Who needed to breathe?

  She managed to squeeze a hand between them to unbutton his jeans and fumble for the zipper tab.

  Seth wrenched his mouth away from hers and reached down to grab her hand. “Not here.” Dark color burnished his cheekbones. “Bathroom. We can lock the door.”

  Robin was far enough gone to think that was a great idea. To heck with what his father would think if he came downstairs with perfect timing to see the two of them stepping out of the bathroom with wild hair, swollen lips and clothing not quite fastened right.

  Seth carried her again. She squirmed against him until he was swearing under his breath. He had her pants off within about five seconds of them reaching the tiny half bath.

  “Lock,” she mumbled.

  “What?” The blue of his eyes was molten. “Oh. Yeah.”

  He pushed the little button, picked her up and planted her butt on the edge of the vanity top. It didn’t even cross her mind that the edge of the sink didn’t make for comfortable seating. She was too busy easing down the zipper to free him.

  He backed
away long enough to sheath himself and then without any preamble drove inside her. When she cried out, Seth stifled the sound by covering her mouth with his. He moved fast and hard, giving her exactly what she seemed to need. Tender and slow was for another time.

  Her body imploded. Seth followed, the throbbing almost setting her off again.

  Finally, his head dropped forward to rest on her shoulder. He was shaking.

  It took them a few minutes to get dressed, but once they had they went to the living room and cuddled on the sofa.

  “Sorry,” he murmured. “It’s awkward sharing the house with a parent. I’ve been trying to keep my distance from you. I haven’t been doing so well with it, though.”

  “No.” Robin rubbed her cheek on his shirt. “Me, either.”

  They lapsed into a contented silence. It had to be five minutes before Seth said, “Earlier, when you asked, Dad and I were talking about my idea of putting a woman cop in your house.”

  Robin pulled away, incredulous. “You think Richard’s stupid? He’ll know I’d never go back there.”

  “No, I don’t think he’d fall for that, but if I can sneak you away again and the woman cop moves in here...”

  “What, you’re going to abandon your father to face another attack?”

  “I intend to send him with you. I’ll stay here.”

  No wonder they’d been arguing. Hadn’t Seth known how insulted his father would be?

  “I hate that idea,” she said fiercely.

  His arm tightened around her. “I know.”

  “He found us here.” The certainty had the weight of dread. “He may be back in Seattle, but somebody has to be watching. Richard will find us wherever we go.”

  “I’d suspect his PI saw my name linked to the investigation and took a look at my house and then my father’s, except...”

  She had no trouble finishing his sentence. “Detectives don’t take their work home with them.” Thinking about that, she scooted far enough away to let her really study him. “Why did you?”