Page 134 of I’ll Be Watching You

“Margo!”

It was Cal.

“In here!” I called.

He came through the door, gun drawn. “Where’s Stockman?”

I pushed the heel of my boot into his back and he yelped.

Cal smiled and relaxed.

“Do you have handcuffs?” I asked.

“Always,” he said.

“What happened down there?” I asked as he cuffed Peter Stockman, who was talking nonsense, proclaiming his innocence. I ignored him.

“The hit man saw me and ran back downstairs. Tripped and fell. I think he broke his arm. Jack and Luisa have him under control.”

We heard sirens.

“I think I need a vacation,” Cal said. “Want to join me?”

“I’ll go anywhere with you when my dad is out of prison. Deal?”

He grinned. “Deal.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

Margo Angelhart

I was half-asleep on the sectional sofa of my mom’s house when the doorbell rang. I moaned and heard Jack say, “I got it.”

The last week had taken its toll.

On both Saturday and Sunday, I had to give statements to the police and the FBI. That wasn’t fun, especially repeating my story over and over.

I stayed at my mom’s for the rest of the weekend, just to make sure there were not other people who wanted us all dead. And, to be honest, because it was good being around family. Jack had spent the weekend with Austin, Laura, and her two kids, and returned to Mom’s twenty minutes ago with my favorite doughnuts and iced coffee.

But Dad was still in Supermax. We still had work to do.

“Austin good?” I asked as I started in on my second doughnut.

“Very. I took him to school this morning. I think he was hoping for another day off.”

“I talked to Pop last night. He and Abuela are having a blast at the resort. He’s been golfing every day, and Abuela made best friends with the head chef.”

Jack laughed. “They’ll never want to go home.”

“They’re checking out this afternoon,” I said. “They miss their cats.” I thought of Tito, my kitten, and realized I missed him, too. Cal had spent more time with Tito this week than I had. No wonder the gray fluffball liked my boyfriend better than me.

A knock on the door had both Jack and me standing. I nodded to Jack, and he answered the door, then smiled. “Bob, good to see you. Come in.” Jack called down the hall, “Mom! Bob Langford is here.”

The county attorney stepped in, nodded toward me. As usual, he was dressed impeccably in a suit and tie. I looked down at my sweats and faded T-shirt. Marginally presentable.

Mom came briskly down the hall, already dressed for the day. She looked . . . well, I wouldn’t say she looked rested, but she looked better than she had all week.

“Bob,” she said warmly and took his hands. “Thank you for coming by. Coffee?”