Full Force Fatherhood. Tyler Snell Anne

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СКАЧАТЬ If she thought people she cared about were making a mistake, she’d tell them.

      She’d had that talk with Mark several times already in the past year.

      “So, how are you, Nik? It’s been a while.”

      The 33-year-old looked surprised he’d made the first conversational move, but she recovered quickly. She straightened her short, dark red ponytail before answering.

      “Good. Busy, but good.” She motioned to the bar around them. “I would actually still be at the office, but the storm knocked out our power. Jonathan told me it was a sign we needed to ‘capitalize on Friday night.’” Mark mentally winced at the mention of Jonathan. Along with Nikki and Oliver Quinn, Jonathan Carmichael rounded out friends with whom he had all but severed ties since he left Orion. “I’d heard him talk about this place on more than one occasion, so I thought I’d give it a try.”

      “The service isn’t great, but I can’t complain about the price.”

      Nikki laughed. “I’ll drink to that.” And she did.

      “What about you? How’ve you been?”

      “Good,” he lied. “Not as busy, but okay. Working with a decent construction crew on a neighborhood south of the hospital. Keeps my muscles working,” he joked. Nikki laughed again, but it was laced with concern.

      “Listen, Mark,” she started, but he cut her off.

      “I don’t want to come back, Nikki. I told you then that I was done with being a bodyguard, and I still mean it now.”

      “But, Mark, you have also told me before how much you love it,” she pointed out. “You can’t let one incident deter you.”

      “Incident?” he repeated. “A man died, Nik.”

      “It wasn’t your fault. I don’t know how many times everyone has to tell you that.”

      “My one job was to keep him safe, and instead I let some punk kid burn him alive.” His voice rose as he said it, and the bartender shot him a look that clearly asked him to settle down. Nikki didn’t flinch. This fight was an old one by now. He couldn’t help it, though. Every time he thought about Darwin McGregor—the firebug—and his floundering admission to the cops that he had set fire to the cabin for fun, Mark’s mood instantly turned heated. The nineteen-year-old had said that blowing up the large propane tank had been nothing more than an accident. He’d thought the tank was empty. He’d thought no one would be hurt, just scared. It didn’t change the fact that Victor had died.

      Or that Mark didn’t believe him.

      Images of the dark figure running away from the house flashed through his mind. He had been too tall and too wide to be Darwin. Though the cops, Nikki and everyone else had blamed this accusation on Mark’s overwhelming guilt.

      It was another reason he had quit Orion six months later.

      “Yes, it’s our job to protect people,” she said, lowering her voice in an attempt to get him to do the same. “But that doesn’t mean we can be everywhere at once.” She stretched her hand out as if to touch his but stopped. “It was a horrible accident, yet even Mrs. Crane agreed that her husband’s death wasn’t your fault. You saved a woman and her unborn child. That has to count for something.”

      Mark took another swig of his beer.

      “Don’t you think we’ve talked about this enough already, Nik?” he asked, adjusting his voice back to a tone he thought was pleasant.

      Again she started to say something but caught herself before nodding. She reached into her pocket and pulled out an Orion business card. There was a number already written across its back in pen. She slid it over to him.

      “You’re right. I’m sorry. This will be the last time I bring any of this up,” she promised.

      “What’s this?” He nodded to the card. He didn’t recognize the number.

      “Let me preface this. I didn’t want to tell you, considering everything you’ve been through, but she insisted she needed to talk to you.”

      Mark was perplexed. “Who needs to talk to me?”

      “Kelli Crane.”

      Mark’s mouth dropped open slightly. “Why?” he asked. “And when did she call?”

      “I’m not sure why—I didn’t ask and she didn’t offer the information up—but she called a few hours ago.” Nikki waved the bartender over. “All she said was that she found something you might be able to help her with.”

      “I—I have no idea what she’s talking about,” Mark said more to himself than his former boss.

      “Then you might want to call her back.” She smiled and handed her credit card over to clear out her tab. It sobered Mark.

      “I find it hard to believe that you happened to take a message for me on the same day you just happened to run into me at a bar. Did you come here to give this to me?”

      Her smile grew wide. “Let’s just say, I’m hitting two birds with one stone.” She gave the man a pat on the shoulder. “It was good to see you, Mark. I hope everything works out.”

      “Thanks, Nik. You, too.”

      Mark stared down at the number after she’d gone. It was amazing how ten digits could affect him so profoundly. He quickly looked around the bar, as if the patrons could hear his internal struggle. No one paid him any mind. He slipped the card into his jacket.

      Less than an hour later, Mark was sitting in his apartment, staring at his phone. There was nothing to be afraid of about calling Kelli. She had, after all, wanted to talk to him. But Mark couldn’t get past the why of it all. Why call? Why now?

      “Only one way to find out,” he announced to the empty room.

      Mark dialed the number before realizing how late it was. He didn’t know her child’s name but knew she lived with Kelli. The last thing he needed was another reason for Kelli to be upset with him. Waking up her toddler was something he wanted to avoid if possible. He hung up on the third ring, deciding to call her the next day.

      Again, he wondered why she wanted to talk to him.

      Mark waited around for a few more minutes before deciding to take a shower. It was quick and refreshing, a great contrast to a not-so-great day. His new mood stuck as he got to his phone and saw he had a voice mail.

      The number matched the one Nikki had given him. He put the message on speaker and listened as Kelli Crane’s voice echoed off the walls.

      “Mark Tranton? Hi, this is Kelli Crane. There’s something I really need to talk to you about. Can we meet? Let me know.” She paused. Mark almost ended the recording before she said one last thing.

      “I don’t think Victor’s death was an accident.”

      * * *

      THE NEXT WORKDAY was a washout, just as Mark had thought it would be. Thanks to a heavy rain in the middle of the night before, СКАЧАТЬ