Delores Fossen

Christmas Guardian


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the hell is Maddox?”

      “My son,” she said as if the answer were obvious. “That’s what I named him. You didn’t know?”

      “No. Shelly didn’t get around to that when she left him on my doorstep.” Jordan had been calling him Gus. “And I couldn’t exactly go digging for his name or paternity, now could I?”

      “No.” Despite the fear and the seriousness of their situation, she smiled softly. “Do you have a picture of him?”

      “Not a chance. And as for you seeing him, that’s not gonna happen until you can convince me that you’re here as a mother and not as someone who wants to use him as a pawn in some sick game.”

      The smile vanished, and her mouth opened in outrage. “I wouldn’t do that. God, what do you think I am?”

      “You’re a woman who left her baby with a bodyguard because it was too dangerous to keep him with you. The danger’s still there.” He glanced in the mirror again.

      “I know that,” she snapped. “Shelly had been my friend since high school. I trusted her. And she died protecting my son. If I could change that I would. But I can’t. And I’ve searched and searched, and I can’t make the danger go away.” The minitirade seemed to drain her, and she groaned and rested her head against the back of the seat.

      Jordan huffed, glanced in the mirror again and tried not to let her emotion get to him. He didn’t want sympathy or pity playing into this. “This isn’t convincing me that you should be mother of the year.”

      That brought her head off the seat. “I don’t want to be mother of the year. I simply want my son.”

      “And then what?” he challenged.

      “I take him and I find someplace safe.” Her voice grew softer. “If necessary, we’ll live our lives in hiding, but we’ll do that together.”

      Not anytime soon, she wouldn’t. Maybe not ever. Jordan didn’t intend to hand over Gus until he was damn sure that it was safe to do so, and Kinley hadn’t done anything to convince him of that.

      “So, what do we do now?” she asked.

      “Soon, we’ll go to your apartment and get those notes.” However, he also had a more pressing problem. “But for now we’ll just drive, and we’ll see if that guy parked up the street plans to follow us.”

      She snapped toward the side mirror and stared into the glass. “What guy?”

      “Black sedan near the intersection.”

      Her breath suddenly went uneven. “How long has he been there?”

      “He arrived not long after we got in the car. It could be nothing,” he admitted. But Jordan didn’t believe that.

      It was likely a huge something.

      “Put on your seat belt,” he instructed. As he eased out of the parking lot, Jordan kept his attention fastened to his rearview mirror so he could watch the other vehicle.

      It pulled out just seconds after they did.

       Hell.

      Jordan drew his Sig Sauer and got ready for the worst.

       Chapter Three

      Kinley’s heart dropped.

      This couldn’t be happening. She’d been so careful and so sure that no one had followed her. Yet, the black car was there and made the same turn Jordan did when he drove away from the Sentron building.

      She felt sick to her stomach. And she was terrified. She had to do something to stop this.

      But what?

      What she couldn’t do was call the police. That would likely alert the wrong people, and it’d be impossible to explain everything that had happened. That kind of explanation could get her son hurt.

      “Let me out,” she insisted. “Maybe he’ll follow me and won’t connect any of this to my son.”

      “Too late. We’re already connected. I’m just hoping this person is curious, that’s all, and we can convince him that we’re together because we’re would-be lovers.”

      Maybe. But she hated to risk that much on a maybe. She stared in the side mirror. The car stayed steady behind them. “Any idea who is back there?”

      “Nope. But I hope to change that.” Placing his gun on his lap, Jordan took out his cell phone, and he pressed in some numbers.

      “Cody,” Jordan said when the man apparently answered. “I’m traveling north on San Pedro, and I have a shadow. Can you slip away from the party and run a visual?” A moment later, Jordan ended the call. “Cody will get back to me when he has something.”

      Kinley latched on to that hope but still had her doubts. “He’ll be able to see the person following us? How?” she wanted to know.

      “Traffic cameras. We might know soon who’s after us. And knowing who might tell us why. We might get lucky. This could be someone from witness protection. It might not have anything to do with Gus.”

      “Gus?”

      Jordan huffed. “That’s what I call your son.”

      She repeated it under her breath. It was hard to pin that name to her baby. She’d always thought of him as Maddox. But then, she hadn’t seen him in fourteen months. He wouldn’t even know her.

      But her son obviously knew Jordan.

      Where had Jordan kept him all this time? What kind of a caregiver had he been? Kinley wanted to know every precious detail of what she’d missed, but first, they had to deal with the person in that black car.

      She checked the mirror again, as did Jordan. The car was still there—at a distance but menacing. “Will you try to lose the guy?”

      “Not just yet. I want to give Cody some time to get a photo so he can use the facial recognition program.”

      “Good,” she mumbled.

      “Well, maybe not good. Remember, I’ve identified others who’ve followed me, and I’ve never been able to link it back to the person who hired them.” He glanced at her. “That’s where you can help. Think hard. Who could have known that you left Gus with Shelly?”

      She pulled in a long breath. “I’ve already thought hard, and I don’t believe anyone knew. After all, Shelly had him for nearly a month before the trouble started.”

      “Okay. Then what started the trouble?”

      Kinley had thought hard about this as well. “A lot of bad things happened around that time. I was drawn out of hiding because someone was trying to kill my brother, Lucky. He’s a P.I., and he started looking for the head researcher, Dexter Sheppard, because Lucky believed Dexter had murdered me. He obviously hadn’t, but Dexter had convinced me and his lab assistant, Brenna Martel, to fake our deaths and his in that explosion.”

      “Why do that?” Jordan wanted to know.

      “Because Dexter said it was the only way for us to stay alive. He had taken money from the wrong people, and he’d promised to deliver a chemical weapon that we couldn’t deliver. He convinced me that all of us would die if I went to the authorities.”

      “And you believed him?”

      “Yes,” she said with regret. “I guess Dexter did a good job faking my death because my brother thought I was indeed dead. But he didn’t think the same of Dexter. He thought Dexter was in hiding but couldn’t find him. So, Lucky followed Dexter’s sister, Marin, to Fall Creek, a small town not too far from here. And when the attempts to kill both Marin and my brother started all over again, I knew I had to do something to try to save them.”