Nobody's Hero (21 page)

Beams of sunlight played along his wood floor and she knew it was time to face reality. Slowly she forced her aching body out of the bed, slid into the shorts and shirt he’d laid out for her, and then walked barefoot across the floor and opened the door. Riley’s voice carried across his small kitchen as he talked to someone on the phone, but he smiled when he saw her, waved her to the breakfast bar and poured her a cup of coffee.

“Yes. No. Mack, I’m on it. I know. She made that clear. Me. No one else. No, dammit, do not send Jackson…”

He slid a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of her and told his boss he’d call him later then sat on the stool across from her. “How do you feel?”

Truth or not. Callah decided a little of both. “Awful. I think an army rolled over my face.”

“You have one hell of a shiner.” His words were teasing, but his touch was tender as he reached out, pushed her hair out of her face.

Enough of that. She took a bite of egg. “You don’t have to babysit me anymore, Riley. I’m fine, and I’m ready to go home. You need to get back to work keeping Burkette on the straight and narrow, and I need to figure out what’s next.”

As much as she appreciated Riley’s breakfast, she couldn’t keep eating. Her stomach was a mess, her brain full of questions she didn’t want Riley trying to answer. Because the one thing she’d figured out over night was that Burkette wasn’t home. Not any more. Maybe not ever.
 

Thirty minutes later Riley walked Callah to her back door and tried to fight the fact that suddenly this felt a lot like goodbye.

“You have my number if you need me.”

“I’m fine, Riley. Seriously.”

He started to touch her, to tell her to stop being so damn heroic, but she tensed when he raised his hand, so he dropped it to his side.

“The police will want to talk to you today, and so will the FBI. My brother volunteered to walk you through whatever you need.” He couldn’t just leave her alone. Not yet. Not when she had no one to lean on, to depend on, to trust.

She unlocked her door, turned to face him, forced a smile. “Go to work, Riley. I can take care of myself. I promise.”

“I’m not worried about you taking care of yourself, Callah. You’ve proven you can do that. I just want to help….”

She leaned up on her tiptoes, kissed his cheek softly, then let herself in the door after telling him what he already knew. “You can’t help this, Riley. No one can.”
 

Callah logged on to her computer and searched through the university’s list of majors. She’d dropped out of school in California a year before graduating when Charlie’s career had taken off. All she had left to earn her teaching certificate was practice teaching and three classes. Of course that meant going back to California, finishing school there.
 
Leaving Burkette.

She ignored the pang in her heart at the thought. But the pain was proof leaving was the right thing to do. She’d grown dangerously close to Riley far too quickly. She couldn’t afford to lose herself in a man again.
 

Her cell phone rang and when she saw the familiar number on Caller ID, her heart tumbled to her toes. Opening it she told herself she could do this. She was strong. It needed to happen.

And then she made herself say hello.

A few minutes later her stomach tumbled again at the knock on her door. Peeking through the front curtain she saw the eyes she knew, the face she loved. She closed her eyes, counted to ten, took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Hello, Daddy.” He was. Even though she now knew the truth, this man was her father for all intents and purposes.

“Callah.” He stopped, cleared his throat, and she nearly cried at his obvious grief. “Thank you for seeing me.”

She stepped back and invited him in.

It didn’t take her long to have the answers she needed. Olivia Duncan had given her to him and her mother when she was almost four years old. They’d been neighbors for three years, and she’d warned him before leaving to never try to find her or her daughter would be in danger.
 

He’d known her mother and father. Understood their dangerous past even though he knew little of it. The murder of her birth father had sealed the deal. He’d made connections over the years, and he called on every one of them to keep her safe.
 

When he finished his story, he sat forward on her couch and took her hand in his, turned it over and stared at her palm, then said the words she’d desperately needed to hear.

“You’re not my blood, Callah, but you are my daughter. You have been for most of your life. I hope you can find a way to forgive my silence.”

Callah’s heart broke at his words, at the hope in them, and she knew the truth. Taking a deep breath she did what she’d been unsure of only minutes before. “You did what you had to, Daddy. I understand.”

Riley sat across the diner booth from Logan Douglass and Olivia Duncan and asked the questions he hoped would give Callah some sense of closure if nothing else.

“McBride killed Callah’s father why?”

Olivia answered. “We’d discovered an illegal arms ring, and we’d traced it back to military sources, but we weren’t sure who. McBride was our government contact. We were no longer active duty, but we still had a series of contacts to make if the need arose.”

“So you told McBride what you knew and…”

“And he was the military connection. We were too sure of ourselves, too excited about our lives outside the agency. We made a horrible mistake and we paid for it a thousand times over. I never knew McBride was the one until he made contact with Charlie Benson in California. I wasn’t even sure then. When Charlie died, I knew.”

They’d suspected McBride back then, and still, they’d let this happen. Riley tried not to hold that against them as he continued asking questions. “You gave Callah up and then continued watching her.”

Olivia nodded, and Riley couldn’t help but notice the way she gripped Logan’s hand. “I went into deep cover, but I stayed near Callah when I could.”

He didn’t say anything, just waited for her to fill in more of the blanks. She did, but not without considering her words and him for a long time. Finally she looked at Logan for some kind of silent reassurance before leaning forward and telling him more.

“You can’t write about this, Riley. But I’ll tell you because I think it will help Callah eventually.”

Her complete faith that Callah would be a part of his life was misplaced. Something in Callah had changed. She’d built a wall between them, and after all the crap she’d been through, he wasn’t sure how to tear it down or if he should even try. Trying to get her to talk about Olivia was definitely not the answer.

“I’ve spent the last two decades working deep cover domestic intelligence operations. Using my connections, I did everything in my power to keep Callah safe. I set up fake identities for her across the world. I planted a false obituary trying to draw out the mole. Logan stayed in contact with Colonel Crenshaw. When McBride showed up in LA, I made the call that sent Jen Danelley in. She watched and waited and then Charlie left Callah and McBride disappeared and I thought maybe it was over. But I’d learned my lesson and I kept watching. When Charlie’s plane went down, I came back to Burkette.”

“You let McBride get too close.”

She nodded. “I sent you the photos hoping to shake him.”

“It worked. And he nearly killed her.” Riley couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice.

“You’re right. I made a terrible mistake thinking I could control this, thinking I could keep anyone from knowing the truth. And Callah nearly died. Please believe me when I say I’m so, so sorry.”

“He wanted you all along. That’s what he said.”

She nodded. “If I could do it all over again, I’d have given myself up years ago, Riley. I should’ve. It was stupid to put Callah in that kind of danger.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Proof. I needed proof that he was the one. Not my instinct. Not my word. But cold, hard proof that he’d killed my husband, that he’d planned on killing me and my daughter.”

Still angry at how close Callah had come to death, Riley shook his head. “Well, you sure got it, didn’t you?”

This time Logan answered. His hard voice carried across the table, but Riley doubted anyone else could hear it. “She gave up her whole life to keep her daughter safe, son. If you get a chance, you make sure Callah Crenshaw knows that truth.”

When they walked out of the diner, Riley blew out a deep breath. He would tell Callah everything he knew and she’d be furious with him for interfering, but she had to know. Maybe knowing would give her peace.

Callah sat in her living room across from Riley and listened to him explain Olivia Duncan’s motivations, history, job description. When he was done, she tried to be angry. It didn’t work. She was too tired to be angry. “You’ve got yourself a great story, Riley.”

Riley’s eyes narrowed, but that was the only proof that she’d ticked him off.
 
“This isn’t about a story, Callah. It’s about you.”

He could tell himself that all day. Eventually he’d prove her right. “I heard you say that this morning, Riley, and really, it’s fine. She talked to you. You told me. Now go tell the rest of the world.” Her words weren’t fair. She knew they weren’t, but she needed something to push him away. He was too close.

“Come on, Callah. You know me better than that.”

And there it was. The truth that would do the trick. She stepped back and said the words guaranteed to finally send him away. “We both know that’s not true, Riley. We spent a few days together, but we don’t know each other. None of this has been real.”

“We did more than spend a few days together, Callah.” His blue eyes blazed and she swallowed, balled her hands into fists to keep from reaching out to him. To keep from throwing herself in his arms and begging him to stay.

Shrugging, she answered, “I’ve read dangerous situations cause people to let down their defenses, do things they would never do in normal circumstances. We don’t know each other. I don’t even know myself. Not really.” And that was the truth. The reason he had to leave. The reason
she
had to leave.

Standing, she crossed the kitchen to her back door and opened it. Turning back to face him she tried to make him understand. “I really, really appreciate you, Riley. But I think it’s best for you to go now.”

His eyes bored into hers, and she forced herself to meet his gaze. When he slammed past her and out the door without a word, she tried not to cry, but it was no use.

As his truck sped down her alley she told herself things were better this way, and she wiped away the tears because they were useless.

Chapter Fifteen

His brother really needed to get the hell out of his house.

“Go home, Rand,” Riley said. “You weren’t here to save the day and I sure as hell don’t need you here now.”

Rand just kept rummaging through his refrigerator like a man on a mission, grumbling to himself until Riley couldn’t take it any more.

His curse rang through the kitchen. “If you’ve got something to say, spit it out.”

Rand tossed a block of cheese on the counter top, then poured himself a tall glass of milk. “You’ve got lousy taste in food, big brother, and your crappy attitude has got to go. A week is enough.”

“You want different food, get your own. You got a problem with my attitude, go home.”

“Can’t do it.” Rand loaded slices of cheese on a paper plate and groaned when all he could find was whole-wheat crackers. “You know alcoholics can eat regular food, Riley. This healthy stuff stinks.” He flipped through radio stations until he found the baseball game then sat down in Riley’s recliner. “And why the hell don’t you have a television?”

Riley didn’t bother answering, just passed through the living area to his room, ignoring the half a candy bar on his dresser. He didn’t expect Rand to understand, and he wasn’t about to engage in a heart to heart. Besides, he didn’t figure his brother needed to know that he’d broken the TV when he’d seen that damn photo of him kissing Callah on some stupid entertainment news teaser.

Thankfully he hadn’t craved a drink during the last week, but he knew that could change. At least he’d had work to fill his time.

Olivia Duncan had disappeared off the face of the earth as far as he could tell. Jen Danelley and Colonel Crenshaw were back in DC, where Rand needed to be.

Flipping on an old Stevie Ray Vaughn CD, he sat in front of his computer and tried working on the column he’d promised Mack, but words about acceptance only mocked him.

The column was supposed to be about his battle with addiction. But everything he wrote came across as too pansy-assed or whiny. Excuses. Every bit of it. The truth was he’d quit living. He’d purposefully hidden in the bottom of a bottle because it was easier.
 

He still didn’t know exactly why he quit. Maybe just to prove his old man wrong. The God’s honest truth was he got tired of being sick in the mornings. Got tired of shaking until the next drink. For whatever reason, his rock bottom wasn’t all that bad.

But the rock bottom of alcoholism was nothing compared to knowing Callah was across town in that little house by herself searching for an identity. Like people searching ever found what they were looking for. Worse, Amber Jackson said Callah was moving back to California.