Page 4 of Big Bad Wolfe

Deb Stuart. He and Deb had met in college, where she’d trailed him all over campus. Deb had been a preppy, fresh-faced innocent back then, and he’d stayed far out of her grasp. They didn’t make flak gear strong enough to protect him from collateral damage caused by starry-eyed dreamers.

Those kind of women wanted promises and commitment. He didn’t do commitment.

Then about six or so years ago, a chance meeting with the older, well-versed Deb in D.C. had resulted in a brief weekend fling. Deb had never mentioned Jillian. But then neither of them had done much talking. He took a swallow of coffee to moisten his dry mouth. “I remember her. Why?”

Jillian’s face softened. “When Deb moved here from the East Coast six years ago, she took a job at the Hope Center and we instantly meshed. She was my closest friend.” Tears welled in her eyes, threatened to spill over, and Zane’s gut tightened. “Seven months ago, she … died.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said with genuine regret.

Jillian straightened and blinked back her tears. The quietly courageous gesture grabbed Zane by the throat. “She was the sister I always wanted growing up, the sister of my heart.”

His fingers clenched around his cup, fighting the crazy urge to wrap his arms around this woman and hold her close. “I’m very sorry for your loss. But I’m not sure why you called me. Was she murdered?”

Hands trembling harder, she carefully put down her cup and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “There are questionable circumstances about her death. And Deb left behind a little boy named Casey.”

“I see. Is he in some kind of danger?”

“I don’t— First, you need to—” Jillian leaned forward and grasped his hand in both of her warm, soft ones, making every muscle in his body tighten. “Zane …” The grave concern on her face overrode his need to tug away. “Just before she moved here, you and Deb— You spent a weekend together in Washington D.C.”

“Yeah. Listen, I appreciate you personally breaking the news about her death, but we weren’t in a relationship.”

“Casey is five-and-a-half years old.” She sucked in a deep breath, slowly released it. “Zane, he’s your son.”

Blood rushed from his head, roared in his ears. The walls zoomed out, then closed in, smothering him. He was dimly aware he’d dropped his cup as hot coffee scalded his thigh.

“Zane!” Jillian dabbed at his pants leg with a napkin. “Are you burned?”

He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t swallow.

“Zane?” She tossed aside the napkin and rubbed his arms. “You went bone white. Are you all right?”

“Impossible,”he whispered.

But it wasn’t. Vivid images flashed through his mind like a horror movie on fast forward. A broken condom. Deb’s shrug of acceptance. His own rioting fear. Deb had assured him later there’d been no consequences.

Had Deb lied to him?

Or had she lied to Jillian?

“I know it’s a shock.” Jillian’s gentle voice quivered with compassion. “It’s the truth, Zane. Deb left a letter in a safe-deposit box for me in the event anything happened to her, naming you Casey’s father.”

“That doesn’t prove a thing,” he forced through stiff, numb lips.

“Casey looks just like you.”

Reeling, he pushed her hands away. But he couldn’t so easily shove aside her words. “There are millions of dark-haired, dark-eyed kids.”

“The instant I saw you, I knew Casey was yours. He has the same lean athlete’s build, same thick, straight black hair, same dark melted-chocolate eyes. He even wears your intensely focused expression on his face a lot of the time.”

Zane fought to control his too-rapid breaths. “What do you expect from me? Money? Is that it?”

“No!” she gasped. “Of course not! You need to know about him. And Casey needs his father.”

Shaking uncontrollably, he rocketed to his feet. “I don’t want him.”

“How can you say that? You haven’t even met him yet.” She rose and grasped his forearm. “He’s a terrific little boy.”

He wrenched free. “The kid is better off without me.” Blinded by pain, he stalked across the room. “See to it he has everything he needs. Send me the bills.” Zane flung open the front door.

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