The Negotiator Page 29

  At the thought of Andy, she sighed. Despite the fact he was on a scheduled day off, two colleagues had called in sick and he’d been forced to go into work. The house seemed quiet and empty without him. Soon it would be time to collect Jack from school and she looked forward to spending another evening with her boys.

  Her boys. The thought sent a warm glow coursing through her. She headed toward the laundry to collect the clothes basket. Halfway there, the phone rang. Hurrying back to the living room, she picked up the receiver on the third ring and answered with her customary greeting.

  “Cally Savage.”

  Silence greeted her. She was about to hang up, convinced the caller was a telemarketer, when she heard his voice.

  “Cally, it’s Stewart…Stewart Brady.”

  Her heart leaped into her throat and her mouth went dry. Oh, God. Did he know about Jack? She tried to breathe over the pounding of her pulse.

  “Stewart, what…? Where…? How did you get my number?”

  “Your father.” He paused. “He-he said you were asking about me.”

  She almost choked in disbelief. “I-I’m sorry, Stewart. My father’s given you the wrong impression. He told me about the death of your wife and child. I expressed my sadness at hearing about it and asked him to pass on my regards. That’s all.”

  “But, I thought… Your father said—”

  “Stewart,” she interrupted, “I’m not sure what he told you, but I got over you a long time ago.” She sighed softly. “It’s true, I was in love with you for years after you dumped me, but I worked hard and found a new life and I’m finally happy.”

  “What about our baby? The baby you told me you aborted.”

  The sudden ignition of her anger nearly stole her breath. “Our baby? You have the hide to question me about our baby? If you’d had your way, there would never have been a baby. I never lied to you. You never asked and you moved on. He’s my son. I’m the one who wanted him—the only one who wanted him. Don’t go pretending you care, especially now, a decade down the track. Don’t you dare.”

  “Cally, I understand you’re upset, but surely we can let bygones be bygones?”

  Anger pulsed through her veins. All the days and the even longer nights she’d spent crying her heart out over him as a young teen mother flashed through her mind, almost overwhelming her.

  “So that’s all I was to you? A bygone? An unfortunate incident that was best forgotten? That’s how you remember me?”

  Stewart tut tutted on the other end of the phone. “Cally, you’re getting all emotional about this and there’s no need. We had some fun times for a while, then you got pregnant. I was young and stupid. I didn’t know anything about being a father. It was the last thing I wanted. But, over the years I’ve matured. I’ve learned.”

  He cleared his throat. “When I discovered I had a son, I was furious that you hadn’t told me, but gradually, I came to accept you had valid reasons for keeping it from me. You were only a kid, too. You were probably as scared as I was. I’m beyond embarrassed about my actions back then. I’m sorry I was such an asshole. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you—and for our baby.”

  Cally shook her head in silent disbelief, her anger dissipating. She bit her lip, wanting to believe he could change, scared that he hadn’t.

  “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, Cally,” Stewart continued, his voice low and sincere. “My son needs a father. Every kid needs a father. I-I want to be there for him.”

  Cally’s heart pounded. She pressed her fist against her mouth to hold back a sob—of pain or joy? She didn’t know. Where had Stewart been during the long, lonely nights when she’d ached for someone to hold her, someone to help her, someone to love her? As an inexperienced teen, she’d given him her heart, her body and her soul and he’d trampled them into the ground.

  “I’ll regret for the rest of my life that I wasn’t there for you and our son. But I want to be there for both of you now. Give me a chance, Cally. Please.” His voice was now tinged with desperation. “I need to see him, Cally. I really need to.”

  She weakened. He had lost his wife and child. She could understand him wanting to make contact with the child who was still alive.

  Besides, when she’d thought it was Stewart who’d contacted the PI, she’d already resolved to meet with him. If it hadn’t been for her father’s untimely appearance, she would still feel that way.

  What she’d told Andy was true. She no longer felt the need to find closure with Stewart. She’d closed that chapter on her life. But Jack deserved to know his father. He had a right to know what he looked like, what he sounded like, to ask him questions. She owed it to her son to make it happen.

  Sighing heavily, she heard herself agreeing to meet with him. “Where are you staying?” she asked after Stewart had babbled his gratitude.

  “Um, I’m in a hotel on the Pacific Highway, not far from Chatswood. Your dad told me where you lived.”

  A spurt of irritation shot through her. Good old Dad.

  “I’m sorry, Cally. I really thought…” He sounded so contrite.

  She sighed again. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault. That would rest solely with my father.” Her voice was as dry as sandpaper.

  “When can I see him, Cally? When can I see my son?”

  The urgency in his voice momentarily startled her, but she couldn’t begin to understand how it felt to lose a spouse and child. All she knew was that she’d be beyond devastated if anything ever happened to Jack and Andy.

  “I usually collect him from school at three. There’s a park only a few blocks away, at the top of the hill. We could meet you there, if you like.”

  He sighed with relief. “Thank you, Cally. You don’t know how much seeing him means to me.”

  She gave him directions. “We’ll meet you there after school, about three-fifteen.”

  “Thanks again. I really mean it.” His voice broke with emotion and she was reminded once again of all that he’d been through.

  “No problem. I’ll see you soon.”

  She returned the phone to its cradle and contemplated their conversation. For years, she hadn’t heard a word from her father. Out of the blue, he appeared on her doorstep. For years, she’d worked hard to thrust Stewart from her mind. Now he was apologizing and asking to be part of his son’s life. She’d finally gotten her life on track and found love with Andy and now the men who’d been such an integral, albeit negative, part of her past were suddenly back in her life.

  It felt a little weird, even a little surreal. She could barely believe that in less than an hour, she’d see Stewart again, face-to-face. Nerves suddenly crowded her stomach. She had to talk to Andy.

  The laundry forgotten, she riffled through her handbag and tugged out her cell phone. Absently, she noticed the battery was nearly flat and she made a mental note to put it on the charger as soon as she finished speaking with him.

  The phone dialed out. She braced herself for it to go to voicemail. Then, he answered.

  “Hey, beautiful, I was just thinking about you.”

  She heard the smile in his voice and her lips tugged upward in response. Just the sound of his voice made her feel so much better, as if she could handle any of life’s hurdles.

  “I hope they were nice thoughts.”

  “I’m not sure I can tell you. Tom’s sitting a few feet away from me and boy, does he have good ears.”

  She blushed and was glad Andy couldn’t see. Still, she liked the way his constant teasing made her feel special, as if she was the most desirable woman in the world.

  “So, are you calling just to hear the sound of my voice or is there something in particular you wanted to tell me?”

  Now the moment was upon her, she was lost for words. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know he’d be okay about it, but it still felt a little strange telling her fiancé she was shortly going to a park to meet the father of her son.

  Her silence must have triggered some concern be
cause his voice turned serious. “Cally? Is everything all right?”

  “Of course. I’m sorry, I just… It’s been such a weird week with Dad turning up out of nowhere and now…Stewart’s telephoned me.”

  “Stewart? As in your ex-boyfriend?”

  “Yes, as in my ex.”

  “Wow, how did he get your number?”

  “That’s exactly what I asked him.” She grimaced at the reminder. “He got it from my father.”

  “Your father? Why would he do that?”

  She sighed. “When Dad told me about Stewart’s recent loss, I told him to give Stewart my regards. I told him I felt sad for him. Dad must have misunderstood.”

  “So he took that to mean you wanted to make contact with him?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. He probably thought he was doing the right thing. It’s funny, just before he latched onto the idea I was still interested in Stewart, he’d been telling me how unstable Stewart was since the death of his family. Then he goes and gives him my number. Go figure.”

  “Unstable? What do you mean?” Concern sharpened Andy’s voice.

  She grimaced. “Oh, I don’t know if unstable is the right word. I think the way Dad actually described it was that Stewart hadn’t been ‘quite right’ ever since his wife and child died. Apparently, he got into a pretty nasty fight and is now facing criminal charges. I don’t know if it was Dad just being melodramatic. Stewart seemed all right when I spoke to him on the phone.”

  “What did he want? Did he ask to see you?”

  “Yes, he did. Well, he asked to see Jack, actually.”

  “What did you say?”

  She drew in a deep breath. “I told him it was okay. We’re going to meet him this afternoon, after school.”

  Andy didn’t respond. As the silence lengthened, anxiety nibbled at the edge of her consciousness.

  “Andy? You are okay with it, aren’t you? You have nothing to worry about. I’m totally over him. I’ll probably take one look at him and wonder what the hell I ever saw in him.”

  His quiet chuckle sounded strained and she hastened to reassure him again. “I love you, Andy. You’re all I ever dreamed of. You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted.”

  His breath came out on a sigh. “I love you too, Cally. So much, it scares me. I guess a part of me keeps expecting everything to fall apart. My life hasn’t exactly been smooth sailing.”

  “Mine, either.” She smiled. “Maybe we’re both due for a change. I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

  He laughed. “Oh, I like it. I like it a lot.”

  “I’m glad. When do I get to ravage your body again?”

  He chuckled. I should be home by seven, with a bit of luck. Perhaps Jack might want to go to bed early?”

  She grinned. “You never know your luck.” Ending the call, she glanced up at the clock. With a surprise, she realized it was time to collect Jack from school. Throwing her cell phone into her handbag, she picked up her car keys and let herself out, locking the door behind her.

  * * *

  Stewart threw the roll of duct tape into the black duffel bag and followed it with a length of nylon rope and a wad of paper towel. Lastly, he picked up the Glock semi-automatic pistol he’d purchased in a back alley of Kings Cross a couple of nights earlier.

  It had set him back a pretty penny, but he wasn’t going to take any chances. There was no guarantee the boy would come peacefully and it was absolutely certain Cally would kick up a fuss. The gun would quiet both of them down. It was insurance, nothing more.

  He glanced around the nondescript hotel room to ensure he’d left nothing behind. He’d traveled light, only intending to be in Sydney a couple of days. But it had taken him longer than expected to achieve his goal and time was running out. He was due in court for the resumption of his trial in less than three days.

  His mind sheared away from the possibility that if he were found guilty, he’d be heading to the big camp. It wouldn’t happen. His father would see to it. He was sure of it. Especially when his father realized he had a grandson—a real, live grandson—living down the street.

  Satisfied that he’d left no trace of himself behind, Stewart bent down and zipped up the duffel bag. At the last minute, he tore the blanket off one of the beds and rolled it into a tight bundle. It could come in handy. He glanced at his watch and cursed. If he didn’t hurry he’d be late.

  * * *

  Jack trudged toward Cally, toting his backpack over one shoulder. He looked tired and disheveled. The school week was almost over and from Jack’s demeanor, it couldn’t come soon enough.

  Cally summoned a cheery smile and greeted him through the open car window. “Hi, sweetheart. How was your day?”

  He shrugged. “It was all right, I guess.” He pulled open the back door and climbed in, tossing his school bag onto the floor and reached for his seatbelt.

  Glancing at him through the rearview mirror, she took a deep breath, knowing she couldn’t put off telling him where they were going. “Honey, I had an unusual call today. It was from your dad.”

  “Andy?”

  Cally bit her lip, even as part of her silently rejoiced that he’d come to think of Andy that way. “No, not Andy. Your real dad. Stewart Brady.”

  Jack paled with shock. She prayed that he’d be able to handle what she was going to say. She should have given him more time to adjust to the idea before agreeing to meet, but Stewart had sounded so desperate and she had to teach the next day.

  “My real dad called you? He actually called you?” Disbelief now warred with shock.

  “Yes, he did. It was a surprise for me, too. I haven’t had contact with him since before you were born.” She turned to glance at him over her shoulder. “He wants to meet you.”

  Jack’s eyes were wide as saucers. “He asked to see me? He really wants to see me?”

  She nodded and kept an eye on the traffic. “Yes, honey. In fact, he couldn’t wait. We’re going to meet him at the park in about five minutes.”

  “Really?” Excitement shone on his face, obliterating the shock. “Oh, Mom! This is so cool! I can’t believe it! For like forever, I had no dads and now I have two!”

  Cally swallowed hard and blinked away the tears that welled up in her eyes. She spied the sign for their exit, took the next turn and headed toward the car park that was reserved for the use of park patrons.

  Huge, leafy oaks and hundred-year-old fig trees shaded a large area of the park. Swings, slippery-dips, rock-climbing walls and other playground equipment stood in colorful array about fifty yards away.

  The mid-afternoon sun was hot and she brushed away a fly that buzzed through her open window. There were no other cars around and it appeared they had the place to themselves.

  Jack threw off his seatbelt and opened the door. “Where is he, Mom? Where is he?”

  Cally climbed out of the car and looked around. “We’re a few minutes early. I’m sure he’ll be here soon. Why don’t you go and play? I told him we’d meet over there, anyway.” With that, Jack tore off toward the flying fox, leaving her to follow behind him at a more leisurely pace.

  The butterflies were back in her stomach and her pulse had picked up its pace. She wondered what was keeping Stewart.

  Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. Jack kept turning his head toward the parking lot, his face growing more and more disappointed.

  Stewart wasn’t going to show.

  Anger surged through her. Damn him! He’d sounded so genuine, so sincere when he’d begged her to let him see their son. Yet here they were, abandoned once again.

  At three-thirty, swiping at the perspiration on her lip, Cally collected her handbag off the park bench and slung it over her shoulder. Jack was halfheartedly swinging on the monkey bars. She called out to him softly.

  “Hey, honey, how about we go and get some ice cream?”

  He looked up at her and shrugged despondently. Hurt and disappointment darkened his eyes. Cally fought
back tears of anger. Jack stared at the ground and scuffed at the dirt with his shoe.

  “He’s not coming, is he?”

  Putting her arm around his shoulders, she drew him close. “It doesn’t look like it, sweetheart. Maybe he got caught in traffic or something.” Hope flashed in his eyes and her heart tightened painfully.

  “Yeah, I’ll bet that’s what happened! I bet there was an accident and he’s stuck there, waiting for them to clear the road.”

  She wracked her mind for a response. Jack’s sudden shout interrupted her.

  “Hey, Mom! Is that him? Is that my dad?”

  She looked in the direction he pointed and her heart leaped into her throat. Stewart Brady strode toward them. He wasn’t quite as tall as she remembered and he was thin almost to the point of emaciation, but there was no mistaking the brown eyes, the thick dark hair and the wide white smile, with all its practiced charm.

  A duffel bag was slung over one shoulder. As he neared them, he lifted his hands apologetically. “Cally, I’m sorry I’m late. I’m so glad to see you’re still here.”

  Jack hung back and she sensed his sudden shyness. She couldn’t blame him. She was a little unsettled too and she’d already met the man.

  She shrugged in response. “Jack thought you must have been caught up in an accident…?”

  Cally left the thought hanging and watched him closely, hoping he’d explain. Instead, he looked past her, to where Jack was half hidden behind her back.

  “So, this is Jack.” Stewart’s eyes watered.

  She gave a slight nod and instinctively put her arm around her son and pulled him in close. “Yes. This is my son.”

  Jack peeked around her and shook the proffered hand, flicking his gaze up briefly to Stewart’s before staring at the ground again. Cally’s gaze drifted over Stewart’s gaunt face. He looked drawn and haggard and much older than his almost-thirty years. She noticed there was even a sprinkling of gray at his temples. She supposed the tragic loss of his wife and child had aged him, but she couldn’t help but wonder what his life had been like since he’d walked away from her. He didn’t look like he’d done it easy.