Page 16 of Shadows Relived
Then she pulled back, her breath shallow, eyes searching his.
She said nothing else. Just turned and walked down the hallway to the bedroom, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
CHAPTER 8
CALLEN WASN’TSURE WHAT heaven smelled like, but it couldn’t be better than pancakes and coffee. The cabin was warm with it as Meaghan hummed softly in the kitchen, the kids still half-asleep but slouched over their plates like floppy, syrup-sticky puppies.
She’d kept her promise from the night before, even making them into the shape of a famous mouse. He hated that it made his chest ache the way it did, like seeing a version of a life he’d never get to live. Not that he really wanted kids. They were annoying at best. However, seeing Meaghan like she was right then, made his heart pound in ways it hadn’t since he left her waiting for him.
“Did you make that list for me?” he asked as he slid into his jacket.
She nodded, pointing to a piece of paper on the table. “Yes. I didn’t know how much you wanted to get or how long we would be stuck here, so I made it to last us a few days.”
He nodded. “That’ll work.” He glanced back at her ashe slid the paper into his back pocket. “Only one rule while I’m gone,” he said as he adjusted his jacket, watching her flip another pancake onto a plate for Lucas. “No one—and I mean no one—goes outside. Not even onto the porch. Not until I get back.”
Meaghan glanced over her shoulder with an arched brow. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. Do you really think they’ll find us out here? Wouldn’t they have done that last night?”
“Doesn’t matter. Nowhere still has edges. You don’t want to be spotted from the air.” He shrugged. “We still don’t know who these people are, so we don’t know what resources they have. Just play it safe for now. I’ll reach out to Blaze and see if he’s discovered anything.”
She sighed, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “You think they’d go as far as helicopters?”
“I think I’ve learned to expect the worst over the years.” He gave her a pointed look. “Promise me.”
She rolled her eyes, but her voice was soft when she said, “I promise.”
“And the kids stay inside too. If they want fresh air, then open a window.” He held up a finger. “But don’t get in front of it.”
“Got it, Captain Killjoy,” she muttered as she turned back to the griddle.
Callen snorted and headed out the door, trusting her to do what was best for the kids in her care.
The road was still dewy and rutted, branches scraping the side of the SUV as he wound his way out of the state park and into the edges of civilization. It took nearly forty-five minutes to reach theoutskirts of town, longer than usual because he’d doubled back twice just to make sure no one had followed him.
The town itself, Maple Hollow, was one of those blink-and-you-miss-it Florida places. One gas station, two churches, a diner with a chalkboard menu, and a small grocery store that still used sticky labels instead of barcodes. The sort of town where a stranger didn’t go unnoticed, even in sunglasses and a ball cap. Especially in sunglasses and a ball cap.
He pulled up outside Hatcher’s General Market, killed the engine, and gave himself one last once-over in the rearview mirror. No blood. No obvious tells. Just tired eyes and a jaw that hadn’t unclenched in since he reached the school.
Inside, it smelled like floor wax, tomatoes, and something faintly floral. The air conditioning buzzed too loudly, and the overhead radio, cheap and static-prone, seemed tuned to a local AM station.
He grabbed a cart and started loading essentials: bread, peanut butter, apples, a first aid refill kit, batteries, and anything that could pass as kid-approved snacks. On his third pass down the soup aisle, the radio caught his attention.
“…still no confirmation from law enforcement on the identities of the gunmen involved in yesterday’s shooting at a private school outside St. Augustine. Reports suggest multiple attackers opened fire before vanishing. No suspects are in custody. Parents and educators continue to demand answers…”
Callen froze, a can of ravioli in his hand. Hisgut went cold as he stared down the aisle, but all he saw was the way people scattered as the shots rang out.
“Speculation is running wild as authorities refuse to confirm whether the attack was politically motivated or just some random shooting. Investigators say they’re reviewing surveillance footage, but eyewitness reports have been contradictory, some blaming an SUV seen speeding away from the scene.”
He slowly set the can down.
A woman browsing next to him looked over. “Terrible, isn’t it?”
Callen nodded. “Yeah. Real damn terrible. Who shoots at a school?”
She didn’t recognize him, just clucked her tongue and kept walking.
No suspects. No statements. The narrative was wide open for anyone to spin. That meant the shooters were still out there, and nobody had a clue what was really going on.
He finished shopping quickly, paying cash and offering only a tight smile when the clerk gave him a too-curious once-over. The whole town was probably buzzing with theories, the way people did when something tragic hit the news. His only concern was that if the reporters looked too closely at those who worked at the school, they would come across Meaghan, noticing her last name being Harrington…
