Mystery Man

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Mystery Man Page 5

by Kristen Ashley


  I heard a noise come from MM that sounded like a manly, amused, deep but short chuckle and I looked up at him to see he was grinning. No teeth but he was grinning enough that both dimples had popped out.

  When I looked back at Lawson, he had a small, one-sided smile thing going.

  “We try to do our best,” he muttered.

  “Well, I appreciate it,” I smiled back. “And I hate to disappoint you but Ginger Kidd was not in the vicinity tonight or, if she was, she heard the sirens and took off. Even when she was a kid, she didn’t like cops. I always loved cops, went right up and talked to them, made friends. She ran a mile. We should have known.”

  “She did that?” Lawson asked, looking amused.

  “Often, first time she was six.”

  His face changed as realization dawned and he stated, “You’re not joking.”

  I shook my head. “Nope.”

  “That was likely a good sign of future trouble,” Lawson remarked.

  “Don’t get her started on her Barbies,” MM put in, my body jerked and my head shot back to look at him.

  Uh... what? What, what, what? How did he know about the Barbies?

  My eyes narrowed on him.

  “Do you know about your sister’s troubles?” Lawson asked and I tore my eyes away from MM and looked at him.

  “No, except I know she owes the Chaos Motorcycle Club a lot of money and that would be a lot, a lot but they already know I can’t help them out with that because I’m not tight with my sister and I don’t have that kind of money to give to them in order to get her fat out of the fryer.”

  “They do?”

  “I had a chat with Tack today. He’s aware that the Kidd cupboards are bare or at least I don’t have two plus million stashed somewhere.”

  “You had a chat with Tack today,” Lawson repeated and something about him had changed and not in a good way. He looked pissed.

  “Um… yeah,” I answered.

  Lawson’s eyes flicked to MM then back to me. “You don’t know anything else about what’s happening with your sister?”

  “No, except that there’s more but I don’t know what it is. And I don’t want to know. I officially disowned her today. Therefore, officially, she is no longer my sister.”

  This garnered another squeeze from MM but Lawson was watching me.

  “So you wouldn’t have any idea who might come visit you tonight?” Lawson went on.

  I shook my head. “No idea. All I know is, they didn’t take anything and they came right to my bedroom. Make of that what you will.”

  Lawson stared at me. Then he did it some more. Then his jaw got tight. Then a muscle jumped in his cheek, his gaze lifted to MM, he took in a breath and shook his head. Then his eyes locked with mine.

  Then he leaned deeper toward me and he said softly, “I’m gonna tell you what I make of this. What I make of it, Gwendolyn, is if my woman had a sister who I knew was in some serious shit, she would not be havin’ a chat with Kane Allen, she would not be sleepin’ alone and therefore she would not ever have to worry about whether she needs a baseball bat or crowbar because she’d be in bed beside me.”

  Oh.

  Wow.

  MM’s hand left my neck.

  Uh-oh.

  “Did I just hear you?” MM asked in his scary voice.

  Uh-oh!

  Lawson’s eyes lifted again and again he did it without moving his head. “You just heard me.”

  Uh-oh!

  “Um…” I started to take my heels off the chair when MM spoke.

  “My boys clocked him on his second drive ‘round to case Gwen’s house. No one was close enough to get to her fast so we called it in to you boys three minutes before he even hit her sidewalk. You had units in the vicinity so he was in the house for less than two minutes before they arrived. Gwen was never in any danger.”

  What?

  “It’s luck we had units in the vicinity,” Lawson returned as he stood.

  “Bullshit, Lawson, your boys have been cruisin’ the neighborhood for two weeks, hopin’ Ginger would make a visit,” MM fired back.

  “This area is hot but we don’t sit on her house, Hawk,” Lawson retorted.

  Hawk?

  I looked up at MM.

  “Hawk?” I asked.

  He ignored me as he was too busy scowling at Lawson. “Your boys were five minutes out, my boys eight. One way or another, she was covered.”

  His boys?

  “She had to arm herself with a snow globe,” Lawson reminded him.

  I stood and looked up again at MM.

  “Hawk?” I repeated.

  “She was covered,” MM repeated.

  “Yeah, but she didn’t know that,” Lawson returned.

  “Hawk?” I shouted and MM’s eyes dropped to me.

  “Babe. What?” he clipped.

  Oh my God. His name was Hawk.

  Who had a name like Hawk?

  I opened my mouth to confirm that his name was indeed Hawk then instantly remembered Lawson was there and I didn’t want him to know I didn’t know MM’s (or Hawk’s) name so I snapped my mouth closed right when I heard my father’s voice.

  “Where’s my daughter?”

  Yay! Saved by my Dad.

  I leaned forward and to the side in front of my no longer so mysterious mystery man, Hawk and looked around Lawson to see my Dad and Meredith coming through the opened kitchen door. I’d called them when I’d seen my window busted out. I didn’t want to but I did for two reasons. One, they’d find out eventually and sooner was always better than later when it came to Dad and Meredith. I’d learned that the hard way. And two, I needed a place to sleep because I sure as heck wasn’t sleeping here and I knew I was too freaked out to drive myself but what was further, Dad would lecture me if he knew I drove freaked out. I’d also learned the hard way to avoid giving Dad (too many) opportunities to lecture me. He was good at it because with two daughters, and those daughters being Ginger and me, he had lots of practice.

  “Gwen,” Dad murmured when he hit the room, I squeezed between the two angry hot guys that were pinning me in, half-walked, half-ran to my Dad and threw myself in his arms.

  Whether I threw myself in them, walked into them or leaned into them, my Dad’s arms always did the same thing. They closed around me tight.

  Suddenly I didn’t feel so freaked out anymore.

  I wrapped my arms around him just as tight, felt his familiar solidness and I was even less freaked out.

  “Gwen,” he whispered into the top of my hair.

  Back in the day, my Dad was hot. He was almost as hot as the two men standing in my kitchen but I suspected the “almost” part of that had a lot to do with the fact that he was my Dad. He was big and broad and had dark hair (now with a lot of silver in it) and hazel eyes and he was lean and fit and strong. He’d always be lean and fit and strong because he was always doing something that involved carrying something, hammering something, dragging something, lifting something or sawing something.

  That was, when he wasn’t watching the Broncos.

  And I had to admit, most of the time he was doing all of that he was in my house.

  “I’m okay, Dad, just a little freaked,” I said into his chest.

  “Honey,” Dad said into my hair.

  Then I felt his lips leave my hair and I looked up at him to see he was looking over my head at Hawk and Lawson. He moved me to his side, his arm clamped around my shoulders and Meredith got close. She took my hand, I squeezed hers and she squeezed back as I looked to see her give me one of her small, sweet, everything-is-gonna-be-okay smiles.

  Then I heard Dad say, “Are you the police?”

  He was asking this into the room, his question aimed at both Hawk and Lawson.

  “Yes sir, Detective Mitch Lawson,” Lawson replied, stepping forward.

  Dad let me go to shake his hand then let it go and clamped his arm around me again, tugging me into his side in a way that my body jolted and then collided wit
h his body.

  Hmm. Seemed I wasn’t the only one who was freaked.

  “And you?” Dad asked and his eyes were on Hawk.

  I looked at Hawk as Lawson took a step away, his face studiously blank, his eyes alert, taking in everything, namely the fact it was clear my family had no idea who Hawk was.

  “Hawk,” Hawk said, his hand extended, Dad let me go again, took it and Hawk went on. “Gwen’s man.”

  I felt and saw Dad’s body jerk in surprise as Meredith whispered, “Gwen’s man?”

  I had no reaction. I was too busy staring at Hawk with my mouth hanging open.

  “Honey, you have a man?” Meredith asked and I knew this question was directed at me but I was still too busy standing, staring at Hawk with my mouth hanging open to respond.

  “Hawk?” Dad asked, his gaze never leaving Hawk.

  “Flew Black Hawks when I was in the Army,” Hawk stated, giving me the third piece of information about him, the first being he was great in bed, something I’d known for a year and a half, and the second being what was apparently his nickname, something I’d known for approximately three minutes.

  But this was not what I was focused on. I was focused on the very small piece of information he’d relayed and what it meant for me. And that was that I was fucked.

  I knew this was true when my father stated in a surprised yet clearly elated voice, “You’re an Army man?”

  Shit!

  Dad was an Army man. He served four years in the Army before he got out and went into construction. There was a reason why Dad married Mom; he was a wild child like her. He credited the Army with sorting his shit out and saving his life. Problem for my Mom was, she didn’t sort her shit out when she was a soldier’s wife. Dad would have stayed in the Army but being in the Army often meant being away and Mom had me and Dad knew Mom couldn’t be trusted alone with me so he got out to make sure I was raised right.

  But Dad still loved the Army. Dad bought olive-drab t-shirts with the word “ARMY” on the front of them and wore them all the time. And Dad formed instant, unshakable bonds with any of his Army brethren. He did it all the time, when we were on vacation, when he was at the hardware store, when he was standing in line to buy a bucket of chicken. He had a sixth Army sense and if he got a whiff of Army, bonding ensued.

  Like right now with Hawk.

  “Yeah,” Hawk replied and Dad still had hold of his hand so he shook it fervently, a relieved, elated smile on his face.

  All thoughts of his daughter’s break-in had flown out of his head. I had a man. That man was an Army man. Not a man like Scott Leighton, who Dad told me after I divorced him he always thought was a pussy (and he’d used the p-word right to my face, then again, Dad pretty much hated Scott). All was suddenly right in Baxter Kidd’s world and what was making it right was the man standing in front of him.

  Yes, I was definitely fucked.

  Dad let go of Hawk’s hand and clamped me to his side again, looking down at me. “Honey, why didn’t you tell us you were seeing someone?” he asked, giving me a shake and beaming at me like a lunatic.

  “Um…” I mumbled.

  “This is lovely, we’ll have to have you over for dinner,” Meredith put in, my head swung to her to see she was smiling brightly at Hawk.

  That was Meredith. If it was a-okay with Baxter, it was hunky dory with her.

  Shit!

  “Um…” I mumbled, louder and more hysterical this time.

  “Make your lasagna,” Dad put in his order then turned to Hawk. “The lasagna is good, son, but it’s her garlic bread that takes the cake. It’s homemade, from scratch, all the way down to the bread.”

  Oh my God! Did my father just call my mystery lover “son” after only knowing him for five seconds? He’d never called Scott “son”. The only thing he ever called Scott was “Scott” and “a pussy”.

  “Um…!” It came out like a strangled cry.

  “Gwendolyn,” Lawson called and my frantic eyes few to him.

  “Yeah?” I answered.

  He took a step in to join our huddle, his hand in his jacket pocket and he pulled out a wallet while speaking. “I’m done here but you need anything, hear anything you think I need to know or remember anything,” he was pulling a business card out of his wallet and he handed it to me, his soulful brown eyes locked with mine, “call me, day or night. My cell is on that card.”

  “Uh… okay,” I replied, taking the card and his eyes released me and moved to Hawk.

  “You got footage?” he asked.

  “Yep,” Hawk answered.

  “You know this guy?” Lawson went on.

  “Haven’t seen the tape,” Hawk replied, “but my boys couldn’t ID him. I’ll have a look at it when I get back to base.”

  “The car?” Lawson kept at it.

  “Ran the plates, it’s stolen,” Hawk answered.

  “Is it too much to ask you to share that footage with us?” Lawson continued.

  “It’s already been e-mailed to the Station,” Hawk returned.

  “Footage?” my father butted in and Hawk’s eyes went to him.

  “Got a business, part of what I do is security. Gwen and I hooked up; I put cameras on her house. It’s monitored twenty-four, seven. Couple weeks back, we installed more cameras to monitor the street. We got tape of the guy who broke in.”

  Dad’s arm squeezed me and his face, which had been slightly bemused when Hawk and Lawson were talking, had started beaming again at the thought of my Army man monitoring my house in an effort to keep me safe.

  What he didn’t know was that it was an effort to keep tabs on me.

  My eyes moved from Dad to narrow on Hawk.

  “Bax, do you think this has to do with Ginger?” Meredith whispered to my Dad and I un-narrowed my eyes and looked at my stepmom.

  She had a mass of somewhat curly, strawberry blonde hair that was streaked now with attractive white. She had a pixie-pretty face, upturned nose, cornflower blue eyes. She was petite, at least three inches shorter than me and eight inches shorter than Dad, standing at five foot five. This meant she could wear high heels, which she did almost all the time even now in the middle of the night, out to respond to the call of her stepdaughter who had a break-in, she was wearing stylish high-heeled boots. She’d taught me how to wear high heels and she taught me about style, in other words, how to embrace mine, however that came about and with her encouragement, I did.

  The skin around Dad’s eyes got tight, he looked at the men and declared, “I have another daughter and she –”

  Hawk broke in to announce, “We know about Ginger and it’s likely Gwen’s break-in has to do with Ginger’s recent activities.”

  Dad’s whole body got tight at my side and Meredith emitted a small gasp.

  But me? I lost my temper.

  I stepped out from under Dad’s arm, grabbed Hawk’s hand and snapped, “Can I talk to you?”

  Then I didn’t wait for him to answer. I turned and dragged him out of the kitchen, through the living room, up the stairs, down the hall and into my bedroom. I closed the door, it creaked then I turned, released his hand and stepped right into his space, getting up on my toes to get in his face.

  “Why’d you do that?” I hissed under my breath.

  He was looking down at me. “Do what?”

  “Tell them about Ginger!” I was snapping now but still under my breath.

  “Babe,” he replied then said no more.

  “Babe? That’s your answer?” I asked sharply. “You can’t tell them about Ginger.”

  His brows shot up. “Why not?”

  “Because it will upset them and worry them and, I’ll repeat, upset them,” I retorted.

  His hands went to his hips and he replied, “Sweet Pea, I was a man with two daughters in trouble, I’d wanna know and I would not be happy that knowledge was kept from me.”

  “Maybe so but I’m a daughter with a sister in trouble who knows a lot more about my family dynamic than you do an
d you might think you’d want to know but, trust me, Dad does not want to know and what’s more, Meredith shouldn’t know.”

  “You need to explain shit to them,” he informed me and I felt my temper spike so I got closer to his face.

  “Don’t tell me how to deal with my family,” I snapped.

  “I can keep you safe, Gwen, and I will but I’m not expending energy to sort out your sister’s shit. She doesn’t pull off a miracle, things are gonna go bad for her. They gotta know that’s a strong eventuality.”

  There was a lot of ground I needed to cover so I started multitasking.

  “I’m glad you brought that up,” I told him. “You are not doing anything, not only for Ginger but also for me. You can take down your cameras and stop keeping tabs. You and I, we’re over.”

  He grinned then he said, “We had this conversation earlier, babe.”

  “Yes, you told me you end things but you live in Badass World. I live in the Real World and in the Real World, when a woman says it’s over, it carries the same weight as when a man says it.”

  Hawk’s eyes drifted over my face.

  Then he murmured, “See my mistake.”

  “What?” I snapped.

  His eyes moved to mine. “Shoulda given you time not fuckin’ you, missed out.”

  “What?” I repeated on another snap.

  His hands lifted and came to my jaws so I instantly jerked my head free of his hands and took a step back.

  Then, so suddenly my breath flew out of me and I couldn’t say for certain how it actually happened, I was pinned to the wall by his big, hard body, his hands were at my jaws in a way I couldn’t jerk my face free and his face was right in my face.

  “About five seconds after I left you today, things between you and me, they changed,” he informed me in a quiet voice.

  I felt my brows draw together as my mind processed the fact that this was not good.

  “Changed?” I asked. “How?”

  “You got attitude, the kind I like. So I decided I’m gonna ride that attitude wave of yours, see how things work out.”

  I blinked. Then I did it again.

  “You’re going to ride my attitude wave?” I asked even though, firstly, I didn’t really know what that meant so even if he affirmed I couldn’t be sure how that would affect me and secondly, I didn’t like talking about him riding anything that had to do with me.

 

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