Running Scared by Lisa Jackson Page B

man—the only grandfather type he’d ever known. “Have you been over there?”
    “No harm done,” Daegan cut in, his gaze never leaving her son’s face. “Someone needed to look after the hound.”
    “Yeah, old Roscoe wouldn’t leave after the funeral and so I—”
    “You didn’t tell me,” Kate said, learning more about her boy each day and wondering how she would ever retrieve the reins of control that continually slid through her fingers.
    “You would’ve called animal control,” Jon accused her.
    “The dog’s old, Jon,” Kate said softly. “And vicious.”
    “And he doesn’t deserve to be put to sleep! Just because Eli died doesn’t mean that Roscoe—”
    “It’s all right,” Daegan said. “You can keep comin’ over and seein’ him if you want. To tell you the truth, the dog won’t have a thing to do with me. I think he’d just as soon rip my throat open than lick my hand.”
    Jon’s eyes narrowed. He looked from his mother to Daegan again, as if expecting some kind of conspiracy. “You mean it?”
    “Hold on…” Kate interjected. Right now, with the frightening visions Jon had been having, he needed to stay close to home. And she wasn’t sure she could trust this stranger. Not yet
    O’Rourke offered a hard smile. “I bought some dog food in town, but Roscoe—that’s his name, right?” Jon nodded slowly. “Old Roscoe won’t go near it. Acts like I’m trying to poison him.” He lifted a shoulder. “Maybe I bought the wrong brand.”
    “He doesn’t like anybody.”
    “Great,” O’Rourke said sarcastically. “Just what I need. Another headache.”
    “You’re gonna keep him?” Jon was suspicious.
    The cowboy lifted a shoulder. “If he doesn’t die on me or take a chunk out of my leg first. Maybe you could come over and show him that I’m okay.”
    “I don’t know,” Kate said quickly. This was all happening fast. Way too fast. “I don’t think—”
    “Oh, come on, Mom, please.” Jon was suddenly pleading.
    “Something about this doesn’t feel right—”
    O’Rourke straightened and rubbed one shoulder. “Well, it would help me out. I think Jon might’ve left some of his things over at the house.”
    Jon froze and he looked at the ground. Hot color washed up the back of his neck.
    “What things?” Kate asked, bracing herself. These days it seemed as if her son had another life—entirely separate from her own. She couldn’t imagine what kind of stash Jon was hiding from her, but she was certain she was about to find out.
    “Well, I just assumed they were his. A jackknife and a comic book or two, deck of cards, that kind of thing. No big deal. It’s just that I’m cleaning things up and I didn’t want to throw out anything valuable.”
    Jon lifted his eyes slowly, studying the man before him.
    “Tell ya what, Jon. I’ll save them for you, and next time you come over to see the dog, you can pick ’em up. Fair enough?”
    Kate watched as Jon’s eyebrows flattened into one thoughtful line. “Fair enough.”
    Daegan extended his hand again, and this time Jon took it, his gaze locking with the uncompromising stare of their new neighbor.
    “Good.”
    For a second Jon just stood there shaking O’Rourke’s hand then quickly yanked his fingers away and his voice was the barest of whispers when he asked, “Who are you?”
    “I told you. My name’s—”
    “I know what you said.” Jon’s nostrils quivered and a breeze lifted the hair that fell over his eyes. “But you’re lying. Who are you and why are you here?”
    Kate’s muscles flexed. “Jon, Mr. O’Rourke—” Her voice gave out as she saw her son back up a step and lick his lips nervously. The hairs on her nape lifted in sudden premonition and her insides turned to mush. Oh, God, no.
    “You killed someone,” Jon said, his voice shaking, his color bleached away by fear. “You killed someone, didn’t you, someone you cared about!”
    Daegan held the boy’s gaze steadily, didn’t