Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead(Finlay Donovan #2)(14)

Delia’s voice broke through the static. “Daddy, where are you?”

I gripped the receiver, my chest growing tight. “They can’t have gone that far. He’ll find her any minute.”

“Daddy? Daddy?” Delia’s voice wobbled. “I’m scared!”

Vero and I threw open our doors, our dropped cups splashing coffee over the pavement as we took off running through the parking lot. We tore through the crowd, muttering excuse mes and pardon mes as we raced around couples and families. An attendant in an elf hat jumped in front of me, motioning for me to slow down. Heart pounding, I shoved him aside. Vero raced after me into the maze of trees beyond the lit area. We split off in opposite directions, shouting the children’s names. The path darkened and narrowed around me. Branches slapped my face as I ran.

“I’ve got Zach!” Vero called out.

“Delia!” I paused, turning in circles, ears straining for her answer.

“Mommy!” Her frantic shout came to me in stereo, through the monitor in my hand and somewhere to my right. I took off in a sprint, searching the rows as they blurred past until I spotted a flash of her bright, pink coat.

“I’ve got Delia!” I cried out, dropping to my knees in front of her and scooping her into my arms. Vero appeared a moment later with Zach pressed to her chest.

“Where’s Steven?” she asked, her breath coming in steaming pants.

“Steven?” I called out. A low groan answered from the darkness. Vero and I carried the children toward the sound, checking each row until we spotted a figure facedown in the dirt. “Steven!” Delia bounced on my hip as I rushed to his side.

He sat up slowly, gingerly rubbing the back of his head. Vero took out her phone and aimed it toward him, washing his face in bright white light. A long stream of red flowed down his temple. “Get that out of my face! What the hell is she doing here? And what are you doing here?”

“What happened?” I asked.

He rose stiffly, swatting my hand away when I tried to help him to his feet. He winced as he pressed his fingers to the wound. “I don’t know. It was dark. I was running after the kids. Someone hit me from behind and knocked me down. I must have cut my head when I fell.”

He reached into his pocket, relief washing over him when he dug out his wallet. He patted his jeans, his shirt, his jacket pockets and frowned. “That asshole took my phone!”

Delia’s wet cheeks burrowed into my neck. “I want to go home, Mommy.”

Zach sniffled against Vero and sucked harder on his pacifier. Vero rubbed soothing circles on his back. “I’ll take Zach and Delia to the car.” Vero held out a hand as I set Delia on the ground. Steven gritted his teeth as he watched the three of them walk to the loaner car.

“Whose car is that?”

“It’s not important.”

“You can’t drive the kids home. You don’t have their car seats.”

“I brought them with me, just in case.”

“Just in case what? What’s that supposed to mean?” I switched off the monitor and he snatched it from my hand. “What the hell is this? Were you spying on me?”

There was no point in answering that. “Vero can take the kids home. Give me your keys. I’ll drive you to the ER. You might need stitches.”

“I don’t need stitches,” he snapped.

“At least let me call Georgia. You should file a police report.”

“Some punk kid mugged me, Finlay. It’s not a big deal. He didn’t get my wallet.”

“It is a big deal! You’re hurt. The kids could have been hurt. If Vero and I hadn’t been here—”

“The kids would have been fine!” He glared at me, blood dripping over his eye. “I would have dusted myself off and bought the damn tree they picked out, and then I would have driven them home. But you couldn’t even let me have that, could you?”

Vero flashed the headlights as she started the car. “We’ll discuss this tomorrow. Please, file a police report,” I begged him as I walked away. I just wanted to get my kids out of there. Steven had been mugged, but not for his money. His wallet had been in that very same pocket, which meant whoever came after him only wanted one thing—his phone. Or, more likely, the information in it … his schedule, his contacts, records of the places he frequented. Everything a contract killer would need to plan the perfect murder.

Vero was right. Just because no one had taken the job didn’t mean they weren’t planning to.





CHAPTER 7


Monday morning dawned far too early. I tossed back the blankets and sniffed. Rolling over, I spotted the culprit beside my bed. By the time I rubbed the remnants of sleep from my eyes, Zach was gone, already giggling in the hall, his business in my room clearly concluded to his satisfaction.

With a heavy sigh, I got up and hunted him down, hauling him back into my room for a diaper change. Pans clattered in the kitchen, the sound of sizzling oil and the smell of salty goodness wafting up the stairs.

“Delia!” I called out. “Time to get up and get ready for school.” She stomped into my room with a scowl, brushing her spiky bangs from her eyes, the feet of her pajamas loose around her ankles and her stuffed dog dangling by his neck from one hand. I set Zach down, his legs already moving before they hit the carpet. “Smells like Vero’s making breakfast. Why don’t you two head downstairs.”