CHAPTER 17

ISOBEL WAS FIXING BREAKFAST IN Callum’s bunker kitchen when he came striding in with Sophie in his arms. She was halfway through a giant doughnut.

“Doughnuts for breakfast? Really?”

“This isn’t breakfast. This is a pre-breakfast snack. Right?” Callum looked down at Sophie, who nodded.

Jack was sitting on the sofa in the living area, texting furiously. He didn’t look up from his phone. “I want a pre-breakfast snack. Or breakfast. Any food would be good.”

“You know how to use the kitchen,” Isobel told him. “If you’re in such a hurry, you can make your own food.”

“You don’t say that to Soph. That’s favouritism, that is,” Jack said.

Isobel ignored him and reached for her daughter.

She shook her head as she gnawed at the donut. “Stay, Clam.”

“That’s brilliant.” Jack snorted a laugh. “Hard shell. Brainless. Looks like snot. It’s the perfect name for him.”

“Jack!” Isobel glared at her son.

Callum cocked an eyebrow in Jack’s direction before placing Sophie on a kitchen chair. “You need to stay here. I have work to do.”

“Wanna go with Clam,” Sophie said.

“Callum,” Callum corrected. “And you can’t. You need to have breakfast.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but shut it when Callum shook his head.

“I wish she’d do that for me,” Isobel said.

Callum straightened and turned his attention on her, suddenly making her feel naked. Not a good feeling while she was in a room with her two children. His eyes darkened as though he could read her mind. “You sleep okay?”

Isobel nodded. It had only been a couple of hours, but it’d been sound. “What’s with this basement, anyway? Was your granddad one of those doomsday people? Have you taken over where he left off? Are you sitting around down here waiting for the world to end? Is this what you’ve been doing all these months? You’ve been in here burrowing like a mole and preparing for Armageddon?”

“No.” His lips twitched as though he might risk a smile, but it passed, making Isobel crave hearing his deep, rich laughter again. “My grandfather was the mole. This is his panic room. He wanted one after I was captured in Iraq. He thought there should be a safe place for me if I ever needed one.”

She jerked back. “You were captured?”

“I was only held for a few days before my team got me out.”

Suddenly, the fact that the underground mini-apartment seemed more lived in than the house upstairs made a lot more sense. “This is where you live, isn’t it? You don’t sleep in the bed upstairs. That’s why it was so neat.” He’d been hiding. From life and from himself.

Callum cleared his throat. “My team, I mean, the security team I used to work with are here.” His voice was husky.

Isobel flushed and felt herself leaning towards him. Just hearing that tone made her skin ache to be touched. Which she shouldn’t allow. She stepped away from him.

“A whole team? I thought maybe one person.” She couldn’t risk any more people. She couldn’t. “I thought it was just one person coming to do you a favour.”

Callum dragged a hand through his hair, which made his T-shirt tighten over those impossibly buff shoulders of his. Why did he have to be so damn hot? It wasn’t fair. Where she had stretch marks on her stomach, he had washboard abs. Where she had cellulite on her thighs, she was sure he had only toned muscle. She was at least ten pounds overweight and had given up on ever losing it, whereas he looked like there wasn’t an ounce of fat anywhere on him. It wasn’t fair. Why did she have to crave the touch of a man who made David Beckham look ordinary?

“I don’t understand why they’re all here.” Callum’s tone was even, which made her pay closer attention. She got the feeling that whatever he was about to tell her was far more important than he was letting on. “I was partner in an international security firm. I managed the London office, and the people upstairs are the team I was in charge of. They’ve come here to help us get to the bottom of your situation. They want me to come back.” He sounded bewildered.

“The whole team are here? All of them?” Isobel was horrified. “They’re here like this is a proper job? I can’t afford to hire a security team. You have to send them away.”

“Mum,” Jack said.

“No, Jack, you know I’m right. I can’t owe anyone else. I can’t.” She looked at Callum. “Send them away.”

“No. We need them, and you don’t have to pay anything.”

She balked. “You’re paying?” She shook her head. “I can’t allow that. Things are complicated enough between us without involving money.”

“Nobody’s paying, you damn stubborn woman. They’re doing it…out of the kindness of their hearts. I think. It doesn’t matter. They don’t want money. And they’re the best in the business. Trust me. We need them, and they will find out what’s going on here.” He took a step towards Isobel, and she felt the room shrink until it was filled with only him. “These people will watch our backs. You and your kids are still in danger. To send them away would be gross stupidity.”

“You think I’m stupid?” Seriously? He was insulting her? Now? When she was barely holding it together?

“I didn’t say that.” The vein in his temple began to throb. “But you don’t have the common sense God gave a goldfish.”

Isobel put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Take that back. That’s just rude.”

Jack cleared his throat. “You two want to remember there are kids in the room?”

Isobel groaned. “We’re having an adult discussion here, Jack.”

“You might be. He’s trying to get back into your pants.”

“Jack!” Isobel put her face in her hands.

“Don’t talk to your mother like that,” Callum said. “If you have a problem with me, be a man and talk to me about it. I’m more than happy to clear things up for you.”

“Callum!” Isobel glared back at him, but he was engaged in a stare-off with her son. “That’s it.” Isobel shoved Callum towards the stairs out of the basement. “Go talk to your friends. I’ll be up once Sophie’s fed.” Callum walked away reluctantly. Isobel didn’t care. She stalked over to Jack and took his phone. “You go too. Eat upstairs. I’ve had enough of both of you. Sophie and I need some testosterone-free time.”

“Mum,” Jack whined.

She pointed at the stairs. “Now!”

With a sigh that was Oscar-worthy, Jack followed Callum.

“You better have food up there,” he said to Callum’s back.

“No guarantee,” Callum said. “Ryan’s here. He could have eaten everything by now.”

Jack muttered something, but Isobel was past caring about them. She waited until the door slammed shut behind the pair before she turned to Sophie, who grinned widely.

“I like Clam,” she said.

Isobel groaned. She pulled yesterday’s sweatshirt on over the T-shirt she’d borrowed from Callum and hung like a dress on her. Until her sisters brought replacements, she was stuck wearing jeans with grass stains on the knees. She closed her eyes briefly and fought to block out the worries that were pressing in on her. Everything she owned was gone. Everything she’d worked so hard for, the home she’d tried to build for her kids, all of it was gone.

She wanted to crumple in a heap and sob until she faded away. She wanted to throw up her hands and scream that she was giving up. She was tired of struggling to get back up every time she was knocked down. She was tired of all of it. Of owing money she hadn’t borrowed. Of trying to keep enough food in her house. Of making repairs to a house she didn’t even own, and coaxing another mile out of a car that was on the verge of suicide because it couldn’t take anymore either.

And now, here she was, living in the bunker basement of the town’s most notorious resident. Relying on a man she barely knew, while she waited to find out if her latest sexual indiscretion would follow her through life. She placed a hand low on her belly. She couldn’t even think about that now. There were dangerous men after her, a loan shark who wanted her to pay off the debt on her back, and she was so damn tired of dealing with everything by herself.

“I want milk,” Sophie announced.

Isobel looked at her innocent, smiling daughter, who was treating this whole thing like a big adventure. “I’ll get you some milk, baby.” She crossed the room to the fridge.

And then she’d make breakfast. And then she’d call her sisters and get supplies. And then she’d see what she could salvage from her house. And then…

…she’d keep going.

Because that was what she did.

“If you have issues with this situation between me and your mother, you take them up with me,” Callum said as soon as the basement door had closed behind Jack.

“I already told you my issues. You said you weren’t going to string her along, but I see how you look at her. You need to back off.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to reassure the boy that he had no intention of going anywhere near his mother. Instead, he said, “This is between me and your mother. I have no intention of treating her with anything other than respect. Which is what you need to do too. Which means watching what you say to her. She’s an adult. She deserves a personal life.”

“And I suppose you think that personal life means you.” Jack puffed out his chest. “She’s had enough of men who use her and walk out. I’m not going to let that happen again.”

“You have no idea what I intend to do, boy.”

“You telling me that you’re planning a happy-ever-after with her?” Jack barked a mirthless laugh. “Yeah, right.”

“I don’t know what I’m planning, and neither do you, so back off.”

“Like you’re the type of guy who’d take on a woman with two kids. A woman with no house, no money, no prospects. What does she have to offer you except sex? Huh? Guess that’s enough to keep your interest.”

Before Callum could think about it, his fist curled into Jack’s shirt and he had him pressed up against the wall. “Don’t make me take you outside and teach you a lesson. You will talk about your mother with respect and you will stay out of her personal life. Got it?”

“No.” The boy was brave and stupid. “Until you prove you aren’t going to use her and run, you can teach me as many lessons as you like, but I won’t butt out. I’ll be watching every single thing you do. And when you hurt her, when you abandon her, I’m going to teach you a lesson. Or, more likely, die trying.”

Damn if Callum didn’t like this kid. “That’s between you and me. But you keep your comments to yourself around your mother. That’s non-negotiable. She’s dealing with enough.”

Jack searched Callum’s eyes for a long moment before nodding. “You can tell your bodyguards to back off. I’ll keep this between us, and you can bet I’m watching every move you make around her. I know where you sleep. If I can’t get at you when you’re awake, I’ll get you then.”

Callum released Jack and stepped back, only to find Dimitri, Ryan and Megan forming a line behind him.

“Having problems, boss?” Ryan asked.

“I’m not your boss,” Callum snapped. “And this is between me and the boy.”

“Stop calling me boy,” Jack told him as he pushed past the group and headed for the kitchen. “Or I’m going to start calling you old man.”

The team watched him go.

“I like him,” Megan said. “Reminds me of someone else I know.” She tapped her chin. “Mmm, who could it be?”

“Get in the kitchen. We have a job to discuss.” Callum strode past her.

“I think the boss is a bit grumpy,” Dimitri whispered as they followed.

“Guess he isn’t getting any,” Ryan whispered back.

“If I have my way,” Jack said, “he won’t get any until he can prove he’ll do good by my mum.”

“I’m Megan,” Megan said. “I spent years making sure my big brother Don-Don didn’t get any. Stick with me, kid, and I’ll teach you everything I know.”

Callum swallowed a groan and headed for the coffee. Once he had a mug, he leaned against the counter and considered his team. No, not his team. The Benson Security team. The longer he was around them, the harder it was to remember that he had walked away.

“Right,” he said. “Let’s get this briefing started.”

The rest of the team pulled out chairs at his dining table, where Rachel and Elle were already seated.

“Is this something we should talk about in front of the child?” Rachel pointed a talon at Jack.

The kid instantly pushed his shoulders back, ready to face off with Rachel. Ah, the recklessness of youth. “Don’t even think about taking Rachel on. You’re just a tasty snack for her. You can stay. But everything said in this room stays here. No texting your friends or posting information on Facebook.”

“Instagram.” Jack relaxed again. “Only old people use Facebook.”

Callum shook his head and sipped his coffee.

“I’ll ask again,” Rachel said. “Are you sure he should be here?”

No, Callum wasn’t sure. But he was certain that if they kept Jack out of the loop, he’d go off and protect his family any way he saw fit, which would be dangerous for all of them.

“The boy has a family to protect. He needs to be here.”

Rachel still wasn’t convinced.

“I’m vouching for him,” Callum said before she could object again. “He’s my responsibility.” He looked at Jack to see how he took that news. Jack was staring at him with a strange look in his eyes, as though he was trying to figure out what Callum’s angle was. Good luck to him. Callum didn’t even know the answer to that.

“How much do you know?” Callum asked the team.

Rachel leaned back in her seat and studied him. Callum kept his face expressionless and waited. Rachel wouldn’t poke her nose into his business. Mainly because she didn’t care.

“We know that Isobel has terrible taste in men,” Rachel said.

“No kidding,” Jack said.

Callum pointed at him. “You talk, you leave. Your choice.”

He made a zipping gesture over his mouth before jumping up to sit on the counter.

Callum looked back at Rachel. “Carry on.”

“We know she has a body in her freezer, one we’re really hoping she didn’t kill.”

Callum was aware of Jack bristling, desperate to defend his mother, but he didn’t say a word. “No, she found him on the beach and hauled him up to her house with the help of her sisters. He’s one of a crew of men who’ve been sneaking into the cove for months. And before you ask, I don’t know for sure what they’re up to. Isobel has been watching them.”

“Do they know she’s been watching them?” Ryan asked.

“They didn’t until she took the body,” Callum said. “Then they went looking for it. They found it last night.”

Isobel appeared in the doorway as Callum explained, and her cheeks flushed at the sight of the filled room. Sophie trailed beside her, her giraffe under her arm and paper and pens in her other hand. She walked straight over to Callum, plopped down at his feet and started to draw.

“Everybody”—Callum signalled to Isobel to come join the discussion—“this is Isobel Sinclair. Isobel, everybody. They can tell you their names later. Come on in. We’re going over the situation.”

She walked over to stand beside Jack, giving wary smiles to the team as she did so. “Jack, why don’t you take your sister back downstairs?”

“I think he needs to be here for this,” Callum said calmly.

“No, he really doesn’t,” Isobel said. “I’m his mother and I want to keep this side of life away from him for as long as possible.”

“You can’t.” Jack sounded far older than his years. “I’m in it up to my neck. It’s my mum who’s selling stuff she found on the beach to pay off a guy who’s threatening her. And my house that’s been blown up. I’m in this, Mum. There’s no sheltering me.”

Isobel looked like his words were a blow, and it took physical effort on Callum’s part not to reach out and pull her to his side. He reminded himself that Isobel didn’t belong to him, and he was more than happy with that, and then he sipped at his coffee. The taste was suddenly bitter and the drink too cold.

Elle’s head snapped up. “Your house blew up? That was your house? The police said it was a gas fault, that the family were away.”

Isobel looked to Callum instead of answering, clearly unsure as to what to tell the team.

“That’s what we want them to think,” Callum said. “They rigged the gas to blow. Isobel and the kids got out before that happened. I had a guy bagged and tagged in the kitchen and planned to go back and ask him some questions. I don’t know if he got out, but if he did, he knows Isobel had help. Professional help.”

“He saw your face,” Dimitri said.

It wasn’t a question, so Callum didn’t answer. “I managed to take one of them out before the place blew, but when I checked, he was gone too.” He looked at Dimitri and Ryan, knowing they would understand why that worried him. “They took him with them.”

“What the hell have you got yourself into?” Dimitri said.

“I don’t know.” Callum dug out his phone and tossed it on the table in front of Elle. “There are photos on there. The body. The beach where he was dumped. See what you can get from it. I also took his fingerprints and a hair sample. It’s downstairs. Do we know someone who can run those for us fast? I want to see if we can get a hit from the prints or his DNA.”

“I know a guy.” Elle reached for the phone. “I’ve been using him to run the DNA on that David guy we met in Peru. Still don’t have a hit on it, though. What I really need is a photo. I could run his photo through image-recognition software and find him that way. It might take years, but I’d get there.”

“Focus,” Callum snapped. “We’re talking about the dead body, not your weird obsession.”

Elle beamed at him. “I’ve missed you. Give me the samples and I’ll get them to my guy.”

“Clam!” Sophie shouted at him, reminding Callum that she was still drawing on the floor at his feet.

When he looked down, she stuck her arm in the air and thrust a scribbled drawing at him. A little bewildered, he took it from her. It was a green mess. He looked at Isobel, who smiled.

“It’s for you,” she said.

“Thanks?” Callum looked down at Sophie, but she was busy working on her next masterpiece, so he put the paper on the counter beside him.

“What else can you tell us about the attack on the house?” Dimitri said, thankfully bringing Callum back into his comfort zone.

“Not a whole lot.” Callum ran a hand over his face. “There was nothing about these guys that made them stand out. No unique facial features. No visible tattoos. Nothing. The two guys I got the best look at had olive skin tones, like they’d come from a Mediterranean country instead of further north. They definitely didn’t have that blue sheen Scottish folk get because the sun is a stranger up here.”

Jack laughed, and then pointed at his closed mouth when Callum glared at him.

“I don’t think they were ex-military,” Callum continued, “but I only went hand to hand with one of them. They were experienced though. They were fast, efficient and they didn’t communicate with anything but hand signals.”

“Middle Eastern, maybe?” Megan said.

Callum shook his head. “I don’t think so. My first thought was Italian, which doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe mob?” Megan said.

“No. There were tats on the dead guy. Standard English prison and Russian mob.”

A ripple of confused looks went through the room.

“Weapons?” Ryan asked.

“Knives, handguns. Nothing unusual. Nothing hard to get hold of.”

There was silence. Callum looked at Isobel and wondered if she was even aware she’d placed herself firmly between him and her son. He wondered whether it was so that she could defend either of them, if needed, or so that they could protect her? Without really planning to, he inched closer to her, just in case she needed him.

“There’s more,” Callum said. “During one of their night-time visits to the cove, the guys from the boat lost a bag on their way up the bluff.” He felt Isobel stiffen, but carried on as though he hadn’t noticed. “Isobel found it the following day and sold the contents to a pawnbroker in Campbeltown. It had been full of camera equipment. High-end stuff. Isobel said it looked like the type of gear the paparazzi would use.”

“Surveillance,” Ryan said.

“That’s what I thought too,” Callum said.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Isobel said.

Callum felt his face soften as he looked down at her. “They were watching someone, or something, at a distance, to gather information.”

“Oh.” Isobel clasped her hands in front of her.

“Clam!” Sophie shouted, and handed him another drawing. He took it and put it on the counter beside him without looking at it this time. Sophie didn’t seem to need his input on her work.

Callum looked back at the team. “I had a word with the pawnbroker. There wasn’t any camera equipment left, but he had this.” He reached into his pocket and tossed the small black box onto the dining table.

“Is that what I think it is?” Ryan looked at Callum.

“Aye,” Callum said.

“What?” Megan said. “What am I missing?”

Dimitri pointed at the box. “That’s part of a SAM guidance system.”

“Stop speaking army, speak civilian,” Rachel snapped. “What do you mean exactly?”

“He means,” Callum said, “in non-military speak, that you’re looking at the remote-control mechanism for a handheld surface-to-air missile.”

“Are you sure?” Elle said.

Dimitri caught Callum’s eyes and nodded. “We’re sure.”

“That isn’t good,” Elle said. “Right?”

“No,” Callum said. “It isn’t good.”

Isobel made a little whining sound and wrapped her arms around herself. Jack sat up straight, ready to protect his mother. From what, Callum didn’t know. He did know that he couldn’t stand watching her shoulders hunch, as though she was trying to curl in on herself.

“Come here,” he muttered, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

He was surprised when she didn’t put up any resistance, and even more surprised when Jack didn’t object. Instead, the boy studied Callum and his mum for a minute before turning his attention back to the group.

When Callum looked at his team, they were uniformly trying not to smile. Well, apart from Rachel. Rachel was studying her manicure and looking thoroughly bored.

“Clam!” Another piece of paper was thrust up at him, and he added it to his growing pile of scribble art.

“So,” Megan said, “we’ve got an unknown dead guy, who’s obviously a criminal, but we don’t know what kind. We also don’t know where he’s from or who he was working with. We have a whole bunch of surveillance equipment that was smuggled into the country a month ago. And we have part of a missile guidance system.” She looked at each of them. “You all thinking terrorist? Because I’m totally thinking terrorist.”

“Me too!” Jack grinned.

“Totally terrorist,” Elle said.

“Definitely,” Ryan added.

Callum held up the hand that wasn’t around Isobel’s shoulders. “No jumping to conclusions. We follow the evidence and see where it leads.”

“Now I’m thinking CSI,” Megan said with a grin.

“Ryan, see if you can get anything from that SAM tech,” Callum ordered.

“Yes, boss.” Ryan saluted.

Callum ran a hand over his face. “Rachel, set up a timeline.”

That made her sit up straight. “Why me? Why can’t one of the minions do it?”

“Because Julia isn’t here and you’re the only other one with project management experience,” Callum said. If he’d still been a partner at Benson Security, he would have told her to suck it up, rather than explaining himself.

“Okay,” she said begrudgingly, “but only this once, and I’m not doing it until I’ve arranged some decent accommodation. There are no hotels in town. Actually, there’s no town in this town. It’s only a few houses, a garage and a shop. How do people live like this?

“Yeah,” Ryan said. “How do people live without their servants running around after them? What do they eat when there’s no caviar? Oh, the agony of the underclass…”

“Clam!” Sophie thrust another piece of art at him. Callum took it without even registering; his focus was on Ryan and Rachel and their new weird dynamic.

“Why don’t you do what you do best and go eat something?” Rachel said. “Maybe you could hang out at McDonald’s for the rest of the day and let the adults get on with things here. I can even give you some pocket money to spend while you’re there.”

Ryan glared at her, and the two of them seemed locked in some sort of stare-down.

“Should we do something,” Jack whispered to Callum, “or are we waiting for their laser vision to kick in and for them to melt each other’s heads?”

To his surprise, Callum had to fight a smile. “Cut it out, you two.”

Ryan gave Rachel one last glare before turning to Callum. “I’m glad you’re back. I seriously can’t take any more of Cruella.”

“I’m not back.” Sure, he needed their help on this one thing, but that didn’t change anything else. “I sold my share of the business.”

“No, you didn’t.” Rachel flicked some imaginary lint from her black suit pants. “Your partners decided your decision wasn’t made when you were in your right mind, so we didn’t buy you out.”

Callum wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “You did what?”

“Okay, that’s my cue to leave.” Ryan scooped the small black box from the table and fled the room.

“Take me with you,” Megan called after him.

Callum ignored them both. “Explain,” he demanded of Rachel.

“There’s nothing to explain. You’re still a partner.” Rachel lifted her mug of coffee and toasted. “We saved you from yourself. You’re welcome.”

Callum felt his left eye begin to twitch, a reaction he’d developed the day he’d met Rachel. A soft hand curved around his forearm, and he looked down to find Isobel smiling at him.

“They were just doing what they thought was in your best interests,” she said softly.

He wasn’t so sure about that.

“Of course we were.” Rachel had the hearing of a hawk when she felt like it. “We need you back at the office. The children”—she waved a hand at the rest of the team—“are driving me insane.”

“We love you too, Rach,” Megan said. “Although, to be fair, Callum, things have degenerated since you left. There’s no one to monitor the bickering, and now we’re getting on each other’s nerves and everybody’s being really bitchy.” She wagged her finger at Rachel and Callum. “That’s what happens when the parent leaves the kids alone without proper supervision.”

Jack barked out a laugh and shrugged when Callum glared at him. For one heady second, Callum wondered if this was what it felt like to be the parent of a teen. The feeling passed just as fast as it had hit him, and Callum moved quickly along.

“I’ve missed this,” Elle said. “I’m really glad you’re back.”

“We’ll see about that,” Callum muttered.

“Clam!” Sophie shouted, and held up more art.