LITMIR.BIZ

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and simply forget about the child. That wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen.”

      “For me it would,” Cal said harshly.

      “I’m sorry to hit you with this when you’ve only been back in town two days. But I wanted you to find out from me rather than the gossip mill. You know how Tyler, Texas, is. It’s not quite large enough for people to mind their own business.”

      “Don’t apologize. I had to know, and I’d rather hear it from you than anyone else. At least, I can trust you.”

      “You can trust a lot of people, Cal.” While Hammond’s tone was solemn, it also had a confident ring to it. “You have friends who are delighted you’re back in civilization.”

      “I know. It’s just going to take me a long time to convince myself of that.”

      “It’s a given you can’t discuss what you went through or even where you were, but was it as bad as it appears?”

      “Worse than bad,” Cal said tersely.

      “Well, at least you’re done with the whole shebang.”

      “If this security company gig works out,” Cal responded, “I will be for sure.”

      Hammond sat down and sipped on his coffee. “I thought you’d been hired.”

      “I have—if I want the job, that is. I have six weeks to make up my mind.”

      “Even before I told you about the child, I got the impression you were hesitating.”

      “Hell, Hammond, it’s in a foreign country, albeit a safe one.”

      “So?”

      “So, maybe I want to stick around the good ol’ U.S. of A. for a while.”

      “Which tells me you’ve been out of the country.”

      Cal narrowed his eyes on his friend. “I didn’t say that.”

      “Okay. Again, I know I’m not privy to anything that pertains to your work, that it’s all top-secret mumbo jumbo.”

      “You’re right, so stop fishing.”

      Hammond’s mouth turned up in a half smile. “Just curious, that’s all.”

      “Well, you might as well put a lid on that curiosity because my tenure with Uncle Sam’s not something we can ever discuss.”

      Hammond grinned. “I bet you were damned good at your job, whatever the hell it was. You’ve always had a reputation for being a real bad-ass.”

      “You must’ve been talking to my ex father-in-law.” Cal meant that as a sarcastic joke, but when Hammond didn’t smile, an alarm bell went off in his head. But then, his brain was trained to pick up on the slightest thing that seemed out of sync.

      “Strange that you should say that,” Hammond drawled, looking away.

      Cal went into full alert mode. “Have you been in contact with Patrick Jenkins?”

      “Nope,” Hammond said, his gaze returning to Cal.

      “I hear a ‘but’ coming, right?”

      “Right.” Hammond stared down at his highly polished boots.

      “He has the baby,” Cal said in a flat, brutal tone.

      “Actually it’s his daughter, Emma, who has him.”

      Cal muttered a string of curses.

      “I knew you weren’t going to like that.”

      Cal cursed again. “That’s an understatement. That bastard hates my guts. And so does his daughter, I’m sure, even though I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting her.” Rich sarcasm accented Cal’s every word, for which he made no apologies. He had no use for his ex-wife’s family, either. In fact, he’d planned on never having anything to do with them again. Now, though, the dynamics had changed.

      “I’m willing to bet you aren’t exactly at the top of their friends list either. But then I don’t have to tell you that.”

      Cal rubbed the back of his neck, the muscles so tight they felt like cords of rope—a feeling he had hoped he wouldn’t experience again, at least not anytime soon. “Personally I could care less what they think, only—”

      “Only now they have something that belongs to you.”

      “You’re damn right.”

      “I’m glad to hear you say that, Cal.” Hammond rose to full height, then ambled over to the coffeepot and refilled his cup. When he looked at Cal again, his usually pleasant features were grim. “For all my earlier posturing, I was afraid that when I told you who had the child, you actually might turn your back and walk away.”

      “I probably should have.”

      “No one’s twisting your arm. Certainly not me. I’m sure Logan—”

      “So that’s the kid’s name,” Cal interrupted, hearing the wonder in his own voice.

      “Yep. Maybe it was fate, or what-the-hell ever, but I ran into Jenkins the other day, and he had the boy with him.”

      “Does he look at all like me?” Cal asked in a halting voice, trying to sort through the myriad of emotions stampeding through him. Damn Connie’s hide, he thought, feeling no remorse at all for damning his deceased ex.

      If that spoke badly of him, then so be it. He might be a lot of things, but a hypocrite was not one of them. He’d always called a spade a spade, then went for the jugular if the occasion called for it. That was why Uncle Sam had used him to break up one of the government’s toughest international drug rings.

      But that period in his life was over, Cal reminded himself. Thus, he had to learn to fit into society, even into his ex’s family, especially now that they had something that belonged to him. However, the thought of having anything to do with Patrick Jenkins and his daughter made his blood pressure rise and his stomach roil.

      “It’s hard to tell who a kid looks like, at least for me,” Hammond said at last. “Now that you know where Logan is, what’s your game plan?”

      “Don’t have one.”

      “You can’t just appear on their doorstep.”

      “Why not?”

      Hammond rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t even deserve an answer.”

      “The sister’s never seen me.”

      “Which means you’re going to start with her?”

      Cal shrugged. “Possibly. Right now, I have a lot to digest before I make any move.”

      “Exactly. And know that I’m here to advise you on the legal side of things.”

      “Thanks, because I figure it’s going to get nasty.”

      “You can count on that.” Hammond set his cup down, then stared directly into Cal’s black eyes. “It was obvious that Jenkins thinks the sun rises and sets on that boy. He’s not about to give him up without a fight.” He paused as if to let those words soak in. “I’m sure the daughter feels the same way.”

      “What do you know about her, other than her name?” Cal asked.

      “She’s the owner of a successful plant nursery that supplies the landscaping for her father’s works of art.”

      Cal snorted. “So Patrick’s still in the construction business?”

      “Yep, and making a fortune, too.”

      “He was doing that when I was married to Connie. That was part of the problem. She was Daddy’s fair-haired princess who had everything handed to her on a silver platter.”

      “Apparently Emma’s

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