Page 38 of Love on the Run

“Malcolm Foster,” Jake responded, watching her as her spoke. She went absolutely still. “I did a little digging, Callie. If this guyisafter you, you’re going to need help. Officially.”

“I shouldn’t have told you,” she whispered. “I knew it was a mistake.”

Jake got up again and walked toward her. Without thinking about it, he put both his hands on her shoulders and turned her toward him. “It’s not a bad thing to ask for help, Callie.”

“I didn’t ask for help,” she insisted, looking like she might cry. “I can take care of myself!”

“Oh, you can, can you? Is that how you ended up almost bleeding to death in a stolen car?” he asked sarcastically.

“What is it with men?” She found it difficult to think clearly with him standing so close to her. “You always have to know best, don’t you? You can’t leave anything alone.”

“The pancakes are going to burn,” he noted in a calm tone.

“Oh, damn,” said Callie as she jerked away and turned back to the stove in time to save the pancakes. “I hate burned food.”

“They’re really good, honey. What’s the secret?”

“I’m not telling you,” she snapped, childishly fierce. Jake merely grinned. Realizing the absurdity of the situation, her momentary pique drained away, and Callie gave a crooked smile. “I’m not telling,” she repeated, but with humor this time.

“That’s fair. Why don’t we just eat them instead?”

He got her to the table and they ate the rest of breakfast in silence. Only when they had both finished did Jake speak again. “I should have told you I was going to look into your story, okay. But I am a cop. I couldn’t ignore what you told me.”

“Did you report what happened? Do…people know where I am?”

“I had to put the stolen car in the system — but only police can access that. All I did was report the car as abandoned. Your name isn’t connected with it. And I told Dr. Murphy that I was taking you back here, but he wouldn’t say anything. As far as anyone knows, you’ve disappeared.”

“Okay,” Callie said, suddenly aware of just how much Jake was doing for her. And here she was, acting like a brat. “I’m sorry to be so…”

“You’ve been through a lot,” he said. “It’s okay.” The fact that he was so understanding only made her feel worse.

“It’s just that Malcolm’s not kidding, right?” She looked at him across the table and he saw the fear coming back into her eyes. “If he says something, he means it.”

“Something like not letting you leave him?”

She nodded slowly.

“Well, you did get away, Callie. And you’re safe now. I have a friend with the LAPD — I talked to him yesterday, and he’s doing some work on that end.”

“You can trust him?”

“Hold on a sec,” Jake said. He went into his bedroom, and emerged a second later with a framed picture in his hand. He thrust it at her. “See this?”

Callie took the photo. It was the one of Jake in uniform, standing next to the tall African-American man in the same uniform, two Rangers.

“That’s Ty,” he pointed. “We started basic the same day. We’ve been friends for ten years, and I’m not exaggerating when I say I’d trust him with my life,” Jake said.

He wondered what had happened in Callie’s life that she was so wary of trusting anyone. He had a hunch her reticence went far deeper than her experience with Foster. “You’re valuable, Callie. You know that, right? You were a witness to a murder that can put Malcolm Foster away for life. The Feds and the LAPD need to hear your testimony.”

Callie put the photo down. She wished she had a friend like the one in the photo.

“I’d rather not. Can’t I just forget?” She shook her head even as she spoke. How could she ever forget what happened? She got up suddenly, moving to the couch in the living room. Jake followed her and sat down beside her.

“Then Foster gets away. And he can continue to do what he’s doing, maybe kill someone else.”

Her eyes grew glassy. “I don’t want to think about it.”

“Callie, of course you don’t want to think about it. But it’s the right thing to do.”

---