out. She tossed them onto the couch.
“A secret about what?” James asked, his focus still on the bookcase. “That whoever stayed here liked isolation and Shakespeare?” Suzy could hear the frustration in his voice.
“Your source could have been pulling your leg,” she pointed out.
He turned and their eyes met. Blue glass. Sharp and clear. “You saw Queso. Do you think he was lying?”
“I think he was scared and confused,” she admitted. “He might have misinterpreted what he saw or was simply given the wrong information on purpose.”
James didn’t agree. He didn’t even have to shake his head to get that point across. He squared his shoulders defensively. “My source wouldn’t do that.”
He didn’t elaborate past that, and Suzy didn’t push. He stalked past her into the bedroom.
James might have told her one of his secrets, but he certainly had more up his tailored sleeves. Maybe jumping into his truck without a second thought hadn’t been her best move. Answers be damned.
They spent the next several minutes in silence, both working their rooms. Suzy checked the side tables, went back over the bookcase and started pulling out kitchen cabinets and drawers. Whoever lived in the house had either left in a hurry or hadn’t been there in a while. Almost everything was cleaned out of the kitchen.
Almost being the operative word.
“James!”
“Suzy!”
Suzy jumped and turned as they spoke at the same time. James walked into the living room, holding a cloth in his hand.
“I would say ‘jinx,’ but I don’t think it works like that,” he said. The joke didn’t hold any humor. James’s expression was blank. “I found this in the dresser. It was hung up between the drawers.”
He held the cloth up. Only it wasn’t just a cloth.
It was a small onesie. One with a rubber ducky sewn in the middle.
Suzy’s heart began to race. She stepped to the side to show what she’d found.
“It was at the back of the cabinet. I almost didn’t see it.”
James’s eyes widened. He picked up the can. His expression gave nothing away. “‘Formula,’” he read.
“Baby formula,” she said, wanting to be crystal clear in what they were seeing.
“Baby formula,” he repeated. She watched as he looked between the canister and the rubber-ducky onesie. They clearly didn’t have answers, but she did have a few guesses.
“If this house isn’t a secret, then maybe whoever was here is.” She took the onesie from his hand. His gaze followed it. “And I’m assuming Gardner never mentioned a baby to you.”
James shook his head. “No, he didn’t.”
“So, maybe he was hiding someone here? Someone with a baby? Or—”
“Or the baby is his,” James interrupted. And his blank expression gained some emotion. Anger. Concern. Something else.
Something Suzy found she wanted to combat or soothe. She wasn’t sure which. He was James Callahan, after all. A man she’d spent the last four months distrusting with a vengeance.
“I was going to say or this has nothing to do with Gardner, and whoever your source was wanted you here. Where there just so happened to be a baby at one point in time.” She motioned to the rest of the drawers and cabinets, all open and mostly empty. “We still have no evidence that Gardner is even linked to this place. Other than, like you said, the owner seems to love isolation and Shakespeare. But I can’t imagine he’s the only person in the world to like both. That could be nothing more than a coincidence.”
James opened his mouth, but whatever he was originally going to say died on his tongue. In a move that was so quick Suzy reached for her gun, James spun on his heel and hurried to the bookcase. He grabbed a book and opened it, determined. He shook his head.
“This may or may not have been his place, but Gardner definitely was here at one point.” He held the book up, cover open. From her spot, Suzy could see handwriting against the first page. “He didn’t like Shakespeare, but our mother did.” He tapped the signature. “She always signed the inside of her books.” He smiled. “I thought Dad gave them all away when she passed.”
Suzy looked down at the onesie in her hand. The rubber ducky was wearing a blue ribbon around its neck.
A not-so-great feeling started to mix with the adrenaline in her stomach. Confusion was never fun, especially when it came with urgency.
“So, if Gardner stayed here with a baby—”
The window next to the front door exploded in a spray of glass. Suzy flung herself to the floor as another window burst out of its frame. She didn’t have to be on her feet to know what was happening.
Whatever Gardner Todd’s secret was, it looked like whoever was outside was also looking for it.
And they’d brought guns.
* * *
THE FIRST SHOT pushed him to the floor. The second had him wishing he’d brought his gun in from the truck. The third, fourth, fifth and—hell, he’d lost count—the rest of the bullets that were plugging into the house had James low and crawling to the kitchen, hoping he and the chief deputy weren’t about to have a repeat of what happened at the warehouse.
Suzy was on the floor but, thankfully, not on her back this time. He gave her a once-over the best he could, given bullets were still flying. No blood or wounds that he could see. She lifted her head up enough to meet his eye as the cabinets above them splintered.
James didn’t waste any more time. He closed the distance between them and covered her with his body. She didn’t fight him. Which was good, because whoever was outside wasn’t done.
Once again James lost count in the barrage of bullets that continued to come. There was definitely more than one gunman. In fact, he guessed they were being shot at from both sides of the house, the way it was crumpling around them.
If they managed to not get shot, the house falling apart just might do them in.
James moved his head so his lips were right next to Suzy’s ear. “How much ammo do you have on you?”
“Not enough!” she yelled back. “Only the clip in my gun.”
James said a few choice words born of frustration. He just hoped their enemy’s show of force would empty their own reserves. Maybe they could get away with only one clip. It wasn’t like they had much choice. From what he’d already seen of the house, it was empty of anything worth fighting with. If the house was Gardner’s, and James realized he was already convinced it was, then at one point it had to have been well stocked with weapons. But now?
Now it was picked clean.
James was still trying to come
