Make-Believe Honeymoon Page 3

  She opened the garage door and surveyed the yard. It didn’t look bad – true to her mother’s words, most of the snow had melted. But the road looked blacker than usual and slick as well.

  Soon she heard Scott trudging down the stairs. Jessie shoved his lunchbox into the backpack, grabbed his coat, hat, scarf and gloves from the coat rack on the garage wall and tossed them all into the back seat. “Here you go, sweetheart. If you put these on while we’re on the way, you’ll be warm as toast.”

  He continued a game on his iPad and ignored her. She frowned. There was nothing more frustrating than when he acted as if he hadn’t heard a word she said. Then again, perhaps he hadn’t. Who knew? She sometimes felt like she should just record a few key phrases and play them over and over to him – he’d never notice the difference.

  But how would she do it. Cassette players were passé, but there must be digital recorders out there, or maybe a smartphone app. She’d have to find out, if she was going to be a top-notch PI. All the technology she’d avoided or ignored over the years, she’d have to learn. And she wanted to – it’d be hard work, but she was willing to put in the effort. She didn’t do anything halfway.

  She turned to find her mother watching them from the doorway. She leaned against the doorframe, a smile warming her lips.

  Jessie returned the smile. “So, Mom, we talked about the job Jack found for me, but you didn’t say much. What do you think about me going away for a few days?” She tensed, awaiting her mother’s response.

  They’d only been back in Atlanta a few weeks and she and Scott were still settling in. She didn’t want to go away, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made. That was the life of a parent, especially a single parent. The thought set her stomach churning.

  “I think that would be fine.”

  Her stomach uncurled the knot it had formed. “You’d have to drive him to school and pick him up …”

  Mom smiled and patted her arm lovingly. “I can do that, hon. I’m happy to help with whatever you need.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “Of course not. I know the move’s been hard on you both, but I think we’ll be just fine. Don’t you?”

  Jessie’s throat tightened, and she pulled her mother into a sudden hug.

  3

  Callum’s feet pounded the pavement as he jogged. Beside him, Tim tugged on Daisy’s leash, as the dog seemed to want to stop at every trash can, tree and shrub to smell whatever it was dogs smelled in such places. Callum grinned. “You should just leave Daisy at home. She’s not really a running dog.”

  Tim frowned. “She should be. She’s run with Molly nearly every day since her legs were long enough.” He stopped, pulled Daisy around a trash can and caught up with Callum again. “But with Molly’s morning sickness, she’s not really into jogging. So I said I’d take Daisy out to keep her in the habit.”

  “How about we walk for a bit?” suggested Callum.

  They both slowed their pace. “How’s that cruise idea coming along?” asked Tim.

  Callum shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

  “You should definitely do it. You need to relax. Even if you’re working, at least you’d have to act like you’re on vacation, which must be more relaxing than being here.” Tim chuckled and patted Callum on the back.

  “You’re right about that. I want to do it, and Jack’s suggested someone to take with me as my fake-wife, but I haven’t met her yet. We’ve getting together this afternoon and that’ll give me some idea of whether the whole thing’s workable. If she says no, which she might, then I don’t have any other leads for someone to take with me.”

  “What about … nope. I can’t think of anyone either.” Tim laughed. “I know you don’t have a sister, but do you have any close cousins?”

  Callum shook his head. “My cousins live in Texas and I haven’t seen them in years. My mom’s passed, no sisters, no one else who can do it. Besides, I like the idea of having another PI on the case with me.”

  “I hope it goes well, then, for the sake of your stress levels.”

  “I know I work too much. But I wonder what I’d do with my time if I weren’t working. I mean, I go to the gym, church, the grocery store, but other than that …”

  “You’ll meet someone.”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to. I don’t think I’m that kind of guy, really. I have my habits and I’ve been through things … I don’t know if I could do the whole marriage thing like you and Molly.”

  “Sure you could. You’d be a great husband.”

  “Thanks.” Callum laughed and punched Tim in the shoulder. “But I’m not sure you’re right.”

  “Hey, maybe you’ll meet someone on this cruise.”

  Callum rolled his eyes. “I hope not – they’re all supposed to be newlyweds.”

  “Good point.” Tim frowned. “I’m sure Molly has some friends …”

  “No set-ups,” Callum frowned. “I can’t take any more of them. No blind dates, either.”

  Tim sighed. “Sorry, dude. I’ll pass on the message, but I can’t promise Molly won’t try. She has a mind of her own.”

  “She sure does.” Callum chuckled. “You’re a lucky man.”

  “She sets you up because she cares, you know. We just don’t want to see you celebrating another Christmas alone, not like last year.”

  Callum blanched. “I wasn’t alone. I was with you guys.”

  “You know what I mean – without someone special. Maybe you could go see your dad this year. I’m not trying to get rid of you, but he was alone and you were with us … maybe you could bring him down here to celebrate with all of us together.”

  “I don’t think so. We haven’t spoken in over a year, since Mom died.” Callum’s throat tightened. He didn’t want to be alone next Christmas either, but some things were out of his control.

  “Why haven’t you called him?” asked Tim.

  Callum sighed. “It’s complicated.”

  Jessie stared at the back of her hand. Her chicken-scratch writing had smudged somehow and she couldn’t quite read what she’d written down. Was she meeting Callum at Jumping Java Café or Lumping Lover Café? She frowned – neither made much sense. She supposed she’d figure it out when she got there. She walked through the shopping center, the heels of her boots clacking with each step on the tiles. White puffs of her breath trailed behind her as she slid her mitten back onto her hand and shoved both hands deep in her coat pockets.

  Her heart fluttered – what would he be like? Would he still want her on this job once he met her? She hadn’t asked him much about himself, but he sounded over the phone as if he might be about her age. Jack had only described him as tall and a good fighter, that he hit the boxing bag well down at the gym. Apparently they’d met there, bonded over their shared profession and worked together on a few jobs over the years. That Jack seemed to respect Callum was really all she needed to know. If Jack liked him, he must be a good man.

  She glanced at her watch and groaned. Shoot, she hoped he’d wait for her. Someone had slid off the road on the ice, and all the rubber-necking meant she’d sat in a mile-long traffic jam before finally inching around the wreck. Now she was fifteen minutes late for a meeting she was already anxious about, all because people wanted to stare at a car in a ditch. She’d texted Callum to let him know, but he hadn’t responded.

  There it was – just ahead, she saw a wooden sign for the Jumping Java Café. The place sported black folding chairs and matching round tables behind tall square windows. The view through the windows was obscured by condensation, so she wouldn’t be able to see if he was in there without going inside. Not that she knew what he looked like, but how many former Navy SEAL types would there be in one coffee shop?

  She pulled open the door. A fireplace set into the far wall warmed the room, and she breathed deeply before scanning the tables to see if she could spot someone who might be Callum McKenzie, PI extraordinaire. She hated this – business meeting or blind date,
either way it was awkward to find and introduce herself to someone she’d never met.

  A man seated by the fire had his back to her. He wore a navy-blue sweater pulled tight across broad shoulders. His dark blonde hair curled at the nape of his neck – not very military. Of course, he wasn’t in the military any longer. He appeared to be looking at something on his phone. She stepped closer, unsure of whether to say something.

  He glanced toward another man who stood and walked out of the café. The man who might have been Callum stood and darted after him. He brushed past her, smelling faintly of aftershave and coffee, and the intensity of his brown eyes gave her pause. “Excuse me …” Her voice came out in a raspy whisper he didn’t seem to hear. She was left watching the back of his head as he went.

  Never mind, perhaps it wasn’t Callum after all. But she couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed. She hadn’t felt a spark of attraction to anyone since Paul died. There’d been many months when she thought she’d never feel anything again but grief and sorrow. But gradually that had faded. Now, three years later, she could finally think about him without feeling as if someone was plunging a knife through her heart. But attraction to someone else? She shook her head – that was a first.

  She continued to search the café. A woman with gray hair sat at one table. Two young mothers with strollers perched at another, one absently pushing her stroller back and forth with her foot as she described something to her friend with loud exclamations and bursts of laughter. A businessman with thinning hair flipped through a newspaper in the far corner. The only customer that could’ve been Callum McKenzie had just split. Now what?

  With a frown, she took a seat. Even with the cold, she’d been in such a rush that sweat had soaked through the armpits of her blouse. She tugged off her coat and set it on another chair, letting the air cool her. She blew at her bangs to dry the perspiration on her brow. She could sit a while and see if he showed, but it was more likely he’d gotten sick of waiting for her and had already left. She checked the screen of her phone – no messages.

  With a sigh, she leaned back in her chair. Just great – her first job lead and she’d blown it already. That he hadn’t called or sent her a message probably meant that he wasn’t as interested in meeting with her as Jack had made out. Lacking a better idea, she pulled out her phone and dialed. “Hey Jack. It’s Jessie.”

  “Jessie! How’d the meeting go with Callum?”

  “I was late because of a ridiculous wreck on 285. I’m at the café, but there’s no sign of him. I texted him a couple of times, no response.”

  “Maybe he got caught in the same traffic as you and he hasn’t arrived yet.”

  “Still, I didn’t get a message …” She rubbed her eyes.

  “Okay, check in with me later if you still haven’t heard from him, and I’ll call him myself.”

  She ended the call and put her phone back in her purse, then studied the occupants of the café once more.

  The door swung open, and the man who’d left in such a rush earlier re-entered, his brow furrowed. When she met his gaze, she smiled. His eyes narrowed and he stepped forward. “Jessie Arwens?”

  She nodded. “Are you Callum?”

  He smiled and held out his hand. “It’s good to meet you. Sorry I’m late.”

  The woman seated in front of Callum was petite, with chestnut hair piled on top of her head and wide brown eyes. She wore bright pink lipstick and her eyelids shimmered gold in the warm café lighting. Her clothing made him arch an eyebrow – lime-green coat with silver buttons folded on the chair next to her, yellow jeans with holes ripped in the knees and pink stockings peeping through, and a sweat-stained white blouse. There was a mark on her ring finger where a wedding band used to be.

  It didn’t give him much to work with. She was a little older than him, maybe thirty-five, divorced or widowed, and with truly terrible fashion sense. Or maybe she was just color-blind. Well, time would tell. “I’ll just grab us some coffees and we can talk,” he told her. “What would you like?”

  “I’d love a cappuccino. Thanks.”

  He ordered their drinks, sat across from her and set his cell phone on the table. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, but I dropped my cell phone this morning and I can’t seem to get it working again. I think I’ll have to get a new one.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Don’t worry about me – I haven’t been here that long. Traffic was a nightmare.”

  He smiled. “Ah, yes. Atlanta traffic – not for the faint of heart.”

  When she smiled, her cheeks dimpled and his pulse jolted. What was it about her he found so appealing? She didn’t look like his usual type – he usually liked tall, athletic blondes who didn’t wear much makeup and dressed conservatively. “Anyway, I was here earlier …”

  “Yes, I saw you.” She frowned.

  “Sorry … I was working. I thought I’d be done by the time you got here. I was following a target – he comes here every week at the same time. Unfortunately he took off with his latte before I could grab it.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Grab his drink?”

  “For the fingerprints.”

  “Oh, right.”

  He shrugged. “It’s for a court case. I’m helping out the defense on a robbery charge. If someone discards a piece of property, like a cup, they give up their rights to it and any forensic evidence it contains.” He stated the law by rote – he’d heard and said it so many times before.

  “I knew that, actually. I guess I’m not used to being on this side of things.”

  He frowned. Did she mean she’d been a criminal? “Uh … Jack didn’t tell me much about you. I gather you’re new to being an investigator?”

  She nodded. “I am. Before this I spent eight years with Chicago PD. Dad was Jack’s partner back in the day here in Atlanta, so I’ve known him my whole life.”

  “He’s a good guy.” He studied her – she didn’t look like a cop, at least not like any he’d known. But at least she wasn’t a felon.

  “Anyway, my late husband was a cop in Chicago too. After he died, I decided to move back here to be with my mom. I thought it would be a good chance to start over, do something new, and since I’ve got law enforcement experience, Jack thought I’d make a good PI. So here I am.”

  He scratched his chin absently. Late husband – so a widow – and an ex-cop. Between the two, that removed a lot of headaches. “So you’ve never had a case as a PI?”

  She shook her head. “This would be my first. But I’m a quick study.”

  “Are you up for this one? Do you think you’re ready to play Mrs. Jessie McKenzie?”

  She smiled. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Callum zipped up his suitcase. He’d packed everything he thought he might need for a Caribbean cruise in March. He hoped it’d be warmer down south than it had been the past week in Atlanta, or he wouldn’t be spending much time by the onboard swimming pools. He set the suitcase by the bedroom door and headed for the bathroom to pack his toiletries. Toby Keith was playing on the downstairs stereo system and he hummed along to the music.

  His mind wandered back to his meeting with Jessie, and nerves fluttered in his stomach. Weird – what did he have to be nervous about? It was just a job, like any other. Well, it wasn’t really like any jobs he’d done – he’d never partnered with a woman before, or conducted an investigation on a cruise ship either. And he knew so little about Jessie – could he count on her?

  He shook his head – that wasn’t the issue, or not entirely. He was sure she’d be fully capable of doing what needed to be done onboard the ship. But he wasn’t certain he could trust himself to remain completely professional with her. Jessie provoked something in him, a protectiveness and warmth he’d never felt before. He was attracted to her, but it was more than that. And he couldn’t quite put his finger on what.

  With a sigh of frustration, he finished packing his toiletry bag and set it on top of the suitcase, then reached for the garment bag hanging on
the door frame and slung it over his arm. He pulled the suitcase behind him down the hallway, then carried it downstairs, his thoughts still focused on Jessie.

  Perhaps he should cancel the whole thing. He still wasn’t sure he could trust Katrina Callahan to tell him the whole truth. Whenever there was money involved, especially as much money as in Kyle Callahan’s estate, people would lie, cheat and steal to get their hands on it. So far, everything she’d said had checked out, but she had an agenda, like everyone else involved in this case. It was his job to discover exactly what everyone’s agenda was, and which of them, if any, were telling the truth.

  Downstairs, he packed his luggage into the space behind the seats of the Silverado, then went back to finish locking up the house. The light on his answering machine was flashing. He hadn’t noticed a message on it before, and wondered how long it had been there. He pressed the button and listened as he locked the back door and pulled the blinds shut in the kitchen.

  As soon as the message began, he froze, eyes wide. “Hey, son – it’s your old man. Just thought I’d give you a call. Haven’t heard from you in a while and wanted to make sure everything’s okay. Call me if you get a chance. Well, you don’t have to – I can call back sometime. Anyway, bye.” Beeeep.

  Callum’s eyes narrowed. How long had it been, over a year? Why was he calling now? The last time they’d spoken, his dad had yelled at him, called him a few choice names and told him never to come back. Angry, he’d fully intended to respect his father’s wishes, but now there was this message that sounded as if everything was just fine between them. As if those words had never been uttered.

  He ran his hand through his hair and grunted. There was no time to call back now even if he’d wanted to. It had been so long since he’d spoken to his father, what could a couple more weeks matter? And he wasn’t sure he wanted to call him back, not after everything that had happened between them.