Page 35 of Love on the Run

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“Thank you,” Jake sighed, squeezing her arms lightly. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Callie looked at him with a tear-streaked face. “You’re crazy if you think this means everything is simple now. Malcolm’s done terrible things for years, but he’s still out and about. You know why? Because he owns people. Cops, judges…”

Jake stopped her, trying to calm her. “Let’s not get into that. Let’s take this step by step. And the first step involves me getting some more information on this guy and the murder you saw.”

“How will you do that?”

“I got skills,” he said, drawing an incredulous laugh from Callie. She took a step back toward the house, but stumbled, finding her confession had exhausted her. Jake caught her arm.

“You’re tired again, honey.”

“I feel like you say that every time I do anything.”

“Well, you’ve been through a lot. Let’s go back.”

They headed back to the house, Jake’s arm wrapped around her waist, Bruiser keeping close by, as if he’d sensed the change in mood. Callie felt strange. On one hand, a weight had been lifted from her, now that she told Jake the whole truth. But now she had to face the reality of what was coming — and she had to convince Jake that Malcolm was dangerous. She felt like Jake had too much faith in law and order. She’d seen money make a joke of the system.

Once inside, Jake made Callie sit down. “You sure you don’t need anything for your leg?”

“I’m fine. Promise.”

Jake left Callie sitting on the couch with yet more thin mints. He was relieved that she had finally told him what happened. But now he had a new problem, which was how to handle her so she would be willing to speak to authorities about it — or at least authorities other than him.

Callie really did see someone killed — by this Malcolm — and now her fear made perfect sense, as did her unwillingness to press any charges. She was frightened, and she wanted to disappear. By sheer luck, she’d managed to fall off the grid, here in Montana. But no wonder she was so resistant to his demands to file a report. That would put her name right back in this Malcolm’s sights.

Deciding to pick up the argument later, he looked back at Callie. “Listen, honey. My shift starts in an hour. Will you promise me you’ll be careful? Just rest up, watch TV. Okay?”

“Of course,” Callie nodded. She was tired again, and simply sat there, staring around the room while Jake moved about, getting ready for work.

Callie looked out the window watching the lengthening shadows on the mountains. Jake appeared once more. “I’m going now. I left my cell phone number on the table if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

“I’ll be back real late. You just rest up.”

“Okay,” Callie smiled up at him. “I won’t run away.”

He exhaled suddenly, and she realized he half-feared she would. He felt a sudden, almost overwhelming urge to kiss her. He fought the idea back down. “See you later.”

* * * *

At work, Jake didn’t waste time. He called Ty, determined to get the information he needed to help Callie.

“Does the name Malcolm Foster mean anything to you?”

“Hold on,” Ty muttered, and Jake heard him typing in the background. “Malcolm Foster. Oh, man. Do you know who he is?”

“Should I?”

“Not unless he’s got a branch out in Montana, I guess. Malcolm Foster is a very nasty piece of work, Brand. He calls himself a film producer, but that’s just a cover. His specialty is drugs from the South American market, but there’s nothing so dirty he doesn’t have a finger in it. Did your Calista mention him?”

Jake explained Callie’s relationship to Foster. Ty seemed unfazed by the story; he was a lot closer to that world.

“So she was with Foster that night. Did she say who shot her?”

“She says Foster did it.She also says she saw him kill a man named Edward Bellamy.”

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