to know there’s a report of a black SUV fleeing the scene. I’m sure that was you, right?”
“Yep.”
“No license plate number, but you might want to consider changing your vehicle, just to be safe.”
“Okay, thanks. I appreciate the intel.”
There was a slight pause then, “Mike?”
“Yeah?”
“Is this about Dad’s murder?”
He hesitated. “Honestly? I think so, but have no proof.” Yet.
Another pause. “I need you to be careful, okay?” Miles finally said. “And don’t forget we’re here if you need us. After all, our motto is that family sticks together. Don’t shut us out. We all want to find the truth behind Dad’s murder.”
“I know.” Mike was touched by his brother’s offer. His siblings knew he was a bit of a lone wolf, forging his own path in the world. Which was exactly why he and his father had got into that fateful argument a week before his murder. His father had railed at him for being selfish, for not giving back to the community. Mike had tried to explain that he’d changed his mind. That he didn’t want to wait to become a detective—that he’d wanted to do that now. But his father hadn’t listened. And rather than try to talk it through, Mike had walked away, turned his back on his family and his faith.
The last words he’d said to his father had been in anger. After the murder, Mike had been assailed by guilt, desperately wishing he’d taken the opportunity to tell his dad he was sorry. That he loved him.
Something that still bothered him every single day.
Months later, after he’d come back to his family and his faith, he’d prayed that his father knew that he was sorry for the way they’d parted that day.
And hoped his father would forgive him.
“Mike?” Miles’s voice brought his attention back to the present.
“Yeah. Thanks, Miles. I won’t forget.”
“Later, then.” Miles hung up, leaving Mike to wonder how he should approach the new information. He wanted nothing more than to head right over to talk to Peter Fresno, yet at the same time the idea that his SUV might have been seen leaving Duncan’s house nagged at him.
It wouldn’t be the first time he’d asked Hawk to swap rides. He could always use one of his undercover identities to rent a different vehicle, too. It wasn’t illegal to have an alternate ID as long as he didn’t commit a crime while using it. He debated between doing something tonight or waiting until the morning.
Normally he wouldn’t hesitate, but he didn’t want to disturb Shayla and her son. The chances that someone could have tracked him from Duncan’s house to the American Lodge were slim to nonexistent. And if they had? There would be cops already knocking at the door.
Convinced they were safe for the moment, he slipped his phone back into his pocket. Feeling restless, he paced the small interior of the room. He wanted to go over to Shayla’s room to grill her about Duncan, but knew she wasn’t going to tell him anything more than she already had.
And maybe she truly didn’t know anything more. Interesting to find out she lived in Nashville and had only returned because of her father’s illness. No wonder their paths hadn’t crossed in the past four years.
Mike doused the lights and stretched out on the bed fully dressed. Since he didn’t have his file on his father’s murder to review, he thought it best to get caught up on rest. Working eighteen-hour days and sleeping less than six hours per night had taken its toll.
He fell asleep almost immediately, only to be woken by a piercing scream. Bolting out of bed, he grabbed his gun from the bedside table and barreled through the connecting door into Shayla’s room, his heart practically thumping out of his chest as he frantically scanned for an intruder.
All he saw was Shayla cuddling Brodie close, whispering reassurances to him. Mike’s heart rate slowed and he lowered his weapon, gulping air as he realized there wasn’t any danger.
“Is there something I can do?” he asked, approaching cautiously.
“Put the gun away,” she whispered harshly. “You’re scaring him!”
He didn’t bother to point out the kid had screamed in terror before he’d come in with his gun. He tucked the weapon into the back of his waistband, then stood awkwardly for a moment. “Are you sure you’re not running from his father?” he asked.
“I’m sure.” Her tone was firm.
“Then why the nightmare?”
Her deep brown eyes narrowed. “Obviously the scene in my brother’s driveway must have scared him more than I realized. Hearing gunfire would frighten any child.”
The boy’s dark hair was a stark contrast to Shayla’s riot of blond curls. He’d noticed earlier, the kid’s brown eyes were identical to hers, though; a fact that niggled at him.
He glanced around the room, then took a step back. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”
“I will.” She continued rocking the boy, pressing kisses to the top of his head while rubbing her hand along his back.
Mike didn’t leave, even though he knew he should. Several minutes ticked by before the boy relaxed against her, appearing to fall asleep. Satisfied the crisis was over, Mike turned away. But once again she stopped him.
“Wait, Mike. Will you stay for a few minutes?” Her voice was soft, as if she didn’t want to disturb her son.
“Uh, sure.” Surprised she asked, he pulled out a chair and sat. “What do you need?”
“I need—we need—to talk.” The seriousness of her tone made him frown.
“About what?”
She didn’t answer for a long moment, then finally met his gaze. “Brodie’s father.”
* * *
Shayla knew she couldn’t live with herself if she continued with the charade a moment longer. Gingerly, she eased away from her son so that he was lying on the pillow. He snuggled against it for a moment but didn’t wake up. She pulled the covers up over his shoulders and then slipped off the bed.
She felt terrible about Brodie’s nightmare. She’d hoped her young son hadn’t noticed the gun pointed in their direction by the small black car or that the sharp report he’d heard was from a gun.
But Brodie was smart and she’d failed to protect him from the grim reality of gunfire. Maybe she should demand Mike take her to her Jeep so she could drive back to Nashville. Brodie didn’t deserve to be subjected to terrifying experiences like this.
Then again, what if the danger followed her? What if the person trying to seek revenge on Duncan wouldn’t hesitate to take her and Brodie out to make a point?
“You are running from him,” Mike said, interrupting
