Shotgun Daddy. Harper Allen

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Shotgun Daddy - Harper  Allen

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he added with a reluctant grin.

      Gabe had called Jess one of the good guys, Caro thought as Dixon continued telling Gabe how Jess’s persuasiveness had convinced him to join Crawford Solutions. Beneath his corporate slickness, Steve Dixon’s liking for his partner was equally sincere. And she herself owed Jess more than she could ever repay, with all he had done for her after her father disowned her.

      She could barely remember the mother who’d died so long ago in a car accident. But she’d grown up taking her father’s indulgence for granted, had thought she could wrap him around her little finger. She hadn’t realized he’d seen her solely as an appendage of himself.

      It was funny, Caro reflected, giving only half her attention to Dixon’s explanation to Gabe about how the company worked, including the fact that besides she and Steve, a handful of other key employees had their living quarters on the Lazy J Ranch. Eighteen months ago, the shallow, insecure woman she’d been had scuttled back as fast as she could to the familiar security of her father’s status-conscious world because she hadn’t wanted to admit that her night with Gabe had changed her in any way. Within weeks she’d been cast out of William Moore’s world—and his life—herself.

      Jess had offered her much more than just a paycheck and a home. Being Jess, he’d become her friend, with no strings attached. He’d never asked who the father of her baby was, although she assumed he privately thought it was Larry, and when Emily was born he treated her like a cherished niece. Even when he’d asked Caro to marry him he made it plain that if her answer was no, she wasn’t to worry that it would cost her her job or his friendship.

      Except, her answer wasn’t going to be no, Caro thought. She’d come to that decision only hours ago, when she’d seen Gabriel Riggs again for the first time in a year and a half and had realized with numb certainty that she hadn’t gotten over him at all.

      I can’t ever let you know you have a daughter, she told him silently, her gaze taking in the slight frown on his hard features, the air of lazy alertness in his attitude as he put a question to Dixon and received an answer. So I’m never going to be able to let you know that your daughter’s mother has always wondered how things might have been if you hadn’t already disappeared from the face of the earth when she tried to phone you to tell you she was pregnant.

      Because wondering was foolish. Gabe had no desire to settle down, while Jess was more than willing to. Providing Emily with a father who would be there for her took precedence over all else, Caro reminded herself.

      “…aside from Andrew Scott, a kid I brought to Jess’s attention who for a while was his latest protegé, that’s everyone I can think of. But Scott left Crawford Solutions a week ago, so he’s not in the picture anymore. Any other questions, Riggs?”

      The edge in Steve Dixon’s voice wrenched Caro from her thoughts, and almost thankfully she thrust her own problems to the back of her mind.

      “Just one,” Gabe replied. “You said Jess paid his employees more than they could make anywhere else. What reason did his protegé give for leaving?”

      “Scott didn’t leave of his own volition, Jess fired him. He was a genius, but he was also a typical computer nerd—couldn’t get along with anyone, always had his back up over something.” Steve grimaced. “I think he and Jess—”

      Whatever else he’d been about to say was abruptly cut off by the ringing of the phone. Immediately Larry reacted, his voice sharp with tension.

      “Put it on speaker.” His command was directed to the technician.

      Gabe countered the order instantly. “Not yet, Jackson. Give it two more rings.” His manner was businesslike, but his voice betrayed a hint of warning as he went on. “My show, Larry, remember? Pick it up on the first ring and you’ve already handed the caller the advantage before a single word’s spoken. Second ring, he still knows you were sitting there waiting for him. By the end of the third ring he’s starting to get a little antsy.”

      The phone rang again.

      “You can bet this isn’t a cold call. He’ll be working from a script, whether it’s written down or not. Emotion’s going to make him want to deviate from his script, and if he does he’s more likely to make a slip.”

      “So what if he slips up?” Caro heard her own voice rise. “They’ve still got Jess. We’re still going to do what they say, aren’t we?”

      The phone rang a third time. Gabe nodded, his eyes meeting hers for the first time since he’d walked into the room.

      “Yeah, we’re going to do what they say. But the more we know about them and how they react, the better, especially if anything goes wrong during the handover.” He moved toward the phone. “And handovers never go exactly to plan, do they, Jackson.”

      “You got that right, Gabe,” Kanin’s man said tensely. “On your signal.”

      “Now.”

      Even as Gabe pressed the speaker button on the phone, Caro heard a tiny ping as the fourth ring began and was cut off. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jackson flick a switch on his equipment.

      “Dixon? You there?”

      At the kidnapper’s abrupt question, Jackson glanced at his monitors. Her heart pounding, Caro gave her full attention to Gabe.

      “Dixon’s not handling this. My name’s Riggs and I’m the hostage negotiator in charge. What do I call you?”

      There was a pause. Then the caller spoke again, his tone oddly metallic.

      “How about Leo, Riggs? Or does that name bring back bad memories?”

      Caro was close enough to see the muscle that jumped at the side of Gabe’s jaw as he answered. “You’ve made your point—you’ve heard of me but I don’t know anything about you. Fair enough. I’m ready and willing to deal under whatever name you choose, but first I want to know for sure that Crawford’s still alive. Put him on or I’m hanging up.”

      “No, dammit!” The shocked exclamation came from Dixon. Gabe nailed him with a glance and turned back to the phone.

      “Put Jess on, Leo. The lady who’s calling the shots has given me a free hand to deal the cards as I see fit, no matter what anyone else here might say. If I can’t satisfy myself that the man I’m negotiating for is alive, all bets are off.”

      “Gabe? Hell, old buddy, so Caro found you, did she?”

      The voice was weak and uneven, but unmistakably Jess’s, although the forced jauntiness in his tone was a pale facsimile of his normal good humor. Without warning Caro felt a sob catch in her throat.

      “She found me.” Gabe’s smile was strained. “Jess, this is procedure, okay? I need proof that it’s you. What was the name of that hammerheaded Appaloosa Del Hawkins had on the Double B when we were kids? The one with such a wicked temper none of us could ever ride it?”

      Jess’s laugh was shaky. “Chorizo,” he said promptly. “He’s still on the Double B. And dammit, you Navajo son of a gun, I happen to know that you rode the brute after Tye and Con and I gave up on him.”

      “Bravo, Riggs.” The metallic voice was back on the line, and this time Caro thought she heard a touch of mockery beneath his words. “Bravo.

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