A California Christmas (Silver Springs #7) - Brenda Novak Page 0,71

walk, that his motel wasn’t far. Being more familiar with the area, she’d known it would take him at least thirty minutes, and he’d be soaked by the time he arrived, but she hadn’t offered him a ride. That defeated the purpose of meeting him out in the open.

Finally, a tall, lean figure emerged from the darkness. He was wearing a stiff pair of brand-new Levi’s and a cheap button-down shirt, with no coat.

He walked tentatively, swiveling his head around every few seconds as though scouring the trees for some kind of threat. Did he think he was about to be ambushed? That her invitation had more to do with revenge than the discussion she’d suggested they have?

Or was he just jumpy from having spent forty percent of his life in a cage? Child killers typically didn’t fare well in prison.

“Over here,” she called, and squared her shoulders. She’d soon be face-to-face with a man who’d taken the lives of his wife and daughter and would’ve killed Dallas, too, if he could’ve found him. Just because Robert had served his time didn’t change the depravity of what he’d done.

But she was a little less scared of him once she could see how timid and uncertain he was—and how careful he was to stand far enough away from her.

She drew a calming breath. “I’m glad you could make it,” she said, keeping her voice cordial. He looked enough like the man in the article from twenty-three years ago that she could tell who he was. She could even see a little of him in Dallas. But she wouldn’t have recognized him if she hadn’t expected to encounter him. He’d lost a lot of his hair, had big bags under his eyes and he was rail thin. Prison had aged him by a lot more than the years he’d spent there.

“Thank you for calling me,” he said politely, almost obsequiously. “I don’t mean to bother you, especially during the holidays, but I was hoping to speak to Dallas.” He lowered his voice. “I know he might not be excited by the idea of...of hearing from me, but I’d appreciate the opportunity to apologize in person—if possible.”

“That’s why I gave you his post office box. So you could apologize,” she said tartly. “You didn’t mention that you were getting out, or that you would try to visit him.”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t respond if I told you that,” he admitted. Then, more defensively, “Regardless of everything else, he’s still my son.”

She felt her spine stiffen. “No, he’s not. He’d be dead if it were up to you. He’s my son. And I’ll be damned if you’re going to get anywhere near him.”

He stepped back as if blown there by the power of her conviction. No doubt he was surprised; she was known for her kindness. Not only that but he’d lived with his crimes—and men who had committed similar terrible acts—for so long he’d probably lost all perspective. But, like any other mother, she could be fierce when one of her children was threatened.

“He...”

“He what?” she challenged when he didn’t finish.

He squinted at her before shifting his gaze to his feet. “He should be able to decide for himself.”

She couldn’t help remembering Cal pointing out the same thing only an hour or so earlier. Damn it. She knew they were both right and hated that she couldn’t simply step in and force Robert to go away for good. Was she out of line for even wanting to? Could he hold the key to putting Dallas’s heart and mind to rest, bring him closure and a worthy explanation at last?

She doubted it, which was why she was struggling with this. “I can’t believe he’d ever agree to see you, but you’re right, it’s not my decision. I am, however, going to ask you for a favor.”

“A favor?” he responded, looking up.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make it worth your while.”

He wiped away the water dripping into his eyes from what was left of his hair. “What do I need to do?”

“Leave town. I’m getting married on Saturday, and I don’t want you to ruin it. Then there’s Christmas. Don’t bother us until it’s all over.”

He hesitated. “I don’t plan to ruin anything. I just want to see Dallas.”

“You’ve made that clear. But you’ve waited this long. Why does it have to be right away?”

“It doesn’t. It’s just that—” he cleared his throat “—I don’t plan to settle here. There’s no work for...for someone like me. And