BlackJack (A Standish Bay Romance Book 1) Read online

  BLACKJACK

  A Standish Bay Romance

  By

  CHRISTINE DONOVAN

  http://www.christinedonovan.org

  FB: Christine Donovan Author

  Twitter: Christine Donovan @cmdonovan

  Cole Jackson spends fifteen years in prison for a murder he did not commit, the murder of his wife Lindsey.

  His talent as a songwriter, and being an avid reader, save him from the loneliness of the cold, dark and unforgiving prison walls. But as he joins the world of the free again, he struggles with his once again fame, because of his rock-n-roll band, of being a convicted killer and the fact that his self-esteem and self-respect were lost years ago. Prison will do that to you, not to mention drugs, alcohol and an unfaithful wife.

  He no longer has the drugs, the alcohol, or the unfaithful wife. What he has is a tarnished reputation and the determination to find the true killer and restore his life.

  Shannon Gallagher’s hard work as a writer has finally paid off. She believes her life is complete until she meets Cole Jackson. She idolized him at sixteen, cried at twenty-one when he went to prison. Now at thirty-six she meets him and falls instantly in love. But as Cole gets closer to his wife’s killer, he puts Shannon’s life in danger. Can he expose the murderer and keep Shannon safe?

  Copyright 2015 by Christine Donovan

  ISBN 978-0-692-38846-4

  BLACKJACK

  Cover Design by Kendra Egert

  Edited by Judy Roth

  All rights reserved.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to except portions of the text, please contact the author at [email protected]

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is dedicated to my husband Michael.

  I love you!

  I want to thank my husband, my four sons, Shawn, Matt, Danny and Joey for all your support over the years and my three-year-old granddaughter, Olivia, for brightening up my days. My mother, Alberta Murray and my sister, Karen Gomer, for always being there for me. Also, thank you to Sammie Grace for being the first to read BlackJack and giving me valuable information.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  PREVIOUS WORKS

  THE RELUCTANT DUKE

  THE LADY AND THE EARL

  THE LADY MUST CHOOSE

  UPCOMING WORKS

  Prologue

  Groping the wall blindly, hoping to steady his rubbery legs, Cole Jackson swore as he realized he was totally wasted. The hotel hallway seemed to sway violently like a ship caught in a serious gale—the kind small boats don’t survive intact.

  “Shit,” he yelled as he collapsed to one knee then slowly raised himself up and continued shuffling toward the room he shared with his wife, Lindsey.

  From a distant haze, voices pummeled through the buzz surrounding his brain. Faces blurred and flashed in and out and around the black spots plaguing his eyesight.

  One person asked, “How’d the show go tonight, Mr. Jackson?”

  “Great, just great,” Cole thought he replied. The words formed in his brain—he just wasn’t sure they managed to escape his mouth.

  Another man remarked, “Do you need any assistance?”

  “Hell no,” Cole muttered aloud this time as he tripped along mumbling to himself. Why did everyone assume he needed assistance just because he had a damn good buzz on? It was his life, wasn’t it? And if he chose to blur it with alcohol it was his business and nobody else’s.

  Cole slid the stupid plastic key card in the door for the third time. “Damn, damn, damn.” He pounded the door with his fist. “I need sleep. All I want to do is crawl into bed. Come on, fourth time’s the charm.”

  As he turned the knob, he prayed Lindsey slept alone. He’d stayed away as long as he could without passing out in the hotel bar. Not like he’d never done that before.

  “What the hell,” he swore as he shoved the door open, banging it into something. Once inside with the door shut, he looked down, blinked several times, forcing his eyes to focus, and saw Lindsey lying on the floor. A deep red stain encompassed her chest and a potent metallic smell suddenly floored his senses. Cole swayed and tried to steady himself as blackness descended, swallowing him up. The last thing he remembered as he collapsed next to Lindsey was his hand landing in something warm, wet and sticky.

  Chapter One

  Fifteen years later

  Cole Jackson sat in the suite his band BlackJack reserved at the Four Seasons in Boston. Every muscle in his body was tense, making it difficult to pick away on his acoustic guitar. He hated to admit it to himself, or anyone else for that matter, but nerves plagued him like hell. Not nerves exactly, more precisely he was scared shitless. Tonight BlackJack opened their tour in Boston, and his thoughts were filled with insecurities as to how he’d be received. He swallowed, hoping to stop the waves sloshing inside his stomach, causing him to gag. If he managed to keep any food down today, it would be a miraculous occurrence.

  He worried about what people saw when they looked at him. Did they see a killer? Or did they see a man who had some bad luck? It shouldn’t matter one way or another to him, but it did. If only he could adopt that, who gives a shit what anyone thinks, attitude. Fifteen years in prison for second degree murder had destroyed his self-esteem and self-respect. There was nothing like going to jail for something you didn’t do.

  All his friends, the close few he allowed near, kept telling him to talk about his ordeal, get it out in the open, and things would improve. His soul would heal. Like hell it would. People would just know what he went through. He had no intentions of letting the entire world experience prison life through his eyes. So, he buried the memories in the recesses of his mind, never to be dug up.

  Tonight, a new chapter of his life would begin. He was back playing his music, his life’s dream. During his days in jail he had hoped and prayed to play again someday, but he’d never thought it would actually happen. And truth be told, there were days during his prison confinement he surprised himself by seeing another sunrise. So here he sat, his favorite guitar cradled in his arms, his fingers gripping the pick like a vise, and the music he usually played so effortlessly sounding like crap.

  “Hey, Cole.” AJ Macleod, BlackJack’s bass guitarist, back-up vocalist and also Cole’s best friend, charged into the band�
�s suite. “You won’t believe who’s signing books at the Prudential Center today.”

  Cole glanced up, not the least bit interested. His mind was heavily centered on tonight’s concert and trying to keep his body from jumping out of its skin. He finally asked, knowing AJ wouldn’t leave until he had his say. “Who?”

  “Guess? And ah’ll give ye a hint—ye read all her books.”

  “Shit, AJ. I don’t have time for your games. Just give me the damn name of the bloody writer.”

  His friend grinned from ear to ear. “Shannon Gallagher.”

  Cole caught his guitar moments before it hit the floor.

  “Thought that might get ye.” AJ chuckled. “Man, ye should see yer face. Stunned doesn’t even begin to describe it. Ah’m heading over tae the bookstore, wanna tag along?”

  Cole thought about it for all of one second. He had kept a low profile since his release from prison, and he and AJ together might cause people to recognize them. He couldn’t face all the questions and looks that would be directed toward him. Someday he would have to face it, but not today. He just couldn’t do it. All his energy and emotional charge needed to be focused on tonight. Getting through this concert was crucial. If he survived it, his first public appearance since going to prison, he could survive the rest of the concert tour and quite possibly the rest of his life.

  He had to admit though, the name kick-started his pulse and made him curious as to what she—he shook his head. “I appreciate the invite, AJ, but I’m staying put...ah, lying low.” He settled in with his guitar once again. “Just going to strum my Betty here and try to relax.”

  AJ shrugged. “Suit yourself man. But ah hear she’s quite a looker.”

  As Cole watched AJ leave, loneliness slammed into him. “Stupid idiot,” he muttered to himself. He should have gone. It would have done him good to get his mind off tonight.

  ***

  Shannon Gallagher had driven Route 3 from her home in Standish Bay, heading north to Hingham to pick up her sixteen-year-old son, Cameron at her ex-husband’s house. Tonight she was surprising him with tickets to a BlackJack concert at the Garden so it made sense for him to tag along on a book signing she had at the Prudential. He could shop around and kill time, something teenagers were good at. She could hardly wait to see her son’s expression when she waved the tickets in front of his eyes, not to mention they were spending the night in Boston. A city they both loved.

  She had been signing books for one full hour and was riddled with guilt for the people still waiting in line. It humbled and amazed her when people came to see her and buy her books. She would never take it for granted. One day success existed and the next, puff, it vanished right along with health and happiness. Fortunately for her, she’d been blessed with all three so she never understood the unsettledness and yearning that nagged her at times. She daydreamed and reached out constantly for something that eluded her. She had a notion what it was and wondered if it would ever be close enough to grasp.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when someone cleared his throat. She looked up into the eyes—well she would have looked at his eyes, if he wasn’t wearing dark sunglasses—of a tall man with shoulder length brown hair and a mustache. He wore jeans and a black leather jacket. She quickly apologized for not paying attention. “I’m sorry. My mind wandered.”

  He smiled and handed Shannon her newest book. “Quite all right, luv. Ye’ve been busy.” He glanced at his watch. “Ah think ah’ve been queued up in line for forty-five minutes.” He paused and took in the crowd. “Nice turnout by the way.”

  “Thank you. And I’m sorry you had to wait so long.”

  “Not a problem, ah’ve nothing pressing.”

  Shannon flipped the book open to the title page and glanced back to the gentleman with the foreign accent. “Are you from England?”

  “Not originally, no, but ah used tae live there. ah’m from Scotland.”

  “Ah. I’ve been once. It’s beautiful.”

  “Aye. That it is.”

  “Is this book for you?” she asked, pen in hand.

  He shook his head. “No, luv, it’s for a good friend. His name is Cole, spelled C.O.L.E. He’s a big fan of yers. He’s back at the hotel. Ah couldn’t convince him tae come.”

  She signed the book with her curvy, Parochial school penmanship. Cole, you need to get out more. But if you’re going to stay in, you’ve picked a great book to keep you company. Enjoy, Shannon Gallagher.

  The Scottish man laughed as he read what she wrote. “He’ll like that. Thank ye.”

  She smiled. “Thank you and I hope your friend enjoys the book.”

  He took off his glasses and winked at her. “He’ll enjoy it, luv. He reads all yer books. Good day.”

  “Good day,” she replied back with a touch of Scottish accent in her voice as it was contagious not to do so.

  Shannon’s eyes followed the man out of the store. There was something vaguely familiar about him. But, oh well, she didn’t have time to ponder it now, she still had a line of people waiting to meet her, and she didn’t want to keep anyone waiting longer than necessary.

  ***

  At two-fifteen, Cameron returned from meandering through the shops inside the Prudential Center just as Shannon completed signing the last book. As they left the bookstore, she spotted the Scottish gentleman approaching. Once again she had a nagging feeling he looked familiar.

  He again removed his glasses and glanced from her to Cameron and back. “Excuse me, ah dinnae mean tae intrude, but ah hoped maybe ye, if ye dinnae have any plans for this evening—”

  “I’m sorry,” Shannon interrupted him. This was going to spoil her surprise. But, oh well, she had to tell him sometime. “I’m taking my son to the BlackJack concert.”

  Cameron yelled and picked her up for a crushing hug. “Mom, how did you? The concert’s been sold out forever!”

  “I can’t breathe, and I have my sources,” she choked out.

  He let her go quickly. “Sorry.”

  Shannon turned to the man. “I’m truly sorry. If you’ll excuse us we must be going.” She offered him her hand.

  He surprised her by holding it tightly cradled between both of his. “So ye like BlackJack?”

  Smiling, she studied him, trying to read his expression. He seemed amused at something. “Yes I do. My son, Cameron, as well. We’re huge fans.”

  “Ah’m AJ Macleod. Ye signed the book ah bought today for Cole Jackson.”

  Shannon’s pulse jumped. She removed her hand from AJ’s and placed it on her speeding heart. Cole Jackson read her books, the Cole Jackson. Oh my, she locked her knees before they buckled and she collapsed to the floor right then and there.

  Cameron looked at her. “Mom, are you okay? Did you hear what he said? You signed a book for Cole Jackson and he is...oh shit man...you’re AJ, bass guitarist. I thought you looked like him...but...you’re really him?”

  AJ laughed. “Aye, that’s me. Listen, Cole doesn’t get out much, and he’d be thrilled if ye came by the hotel tae meet him. We’re staying at the Four Seasons.”

  “So are we,” she said softly, hardly believing this conversation.

  “We are?” Cameron asked, sounding even more shocked than before.

  “Perfect. We’re in suite 526, come on up and visit before the concert. We usually have a jam session tae loosen up and relax, then a light dinner.” He turned to leave, paused, pivoted back and looked right into her eyes, his green ones hypnotic. “Please say ye’ll come, luv.”

  How could she not? If not for her, but for Cameron who would positively hate her if she refused. “I...um...yes, I suppose we will,” she answered, her voice sounding distant and nervous to her own ears.

  ***

  As they drove to the hotel, Cameron never shut up. She didn’t remember the last time she heard him talk so much or be so excited about something.

  “Do you think they’ll mind if I bring my guitar?”

  “I suppose not,” she replied, hoping
it was true.

  Shannon pulled up in front of the hotel, handed the keys over to the valet parking attendant and waited as their bags were unloaded. After checking in, they went up to their room so Shannon could change. She removed her pantsuit and slid into her favorite jeans, sweater and black leather boots. After she brushed her long brown hair, her teeth, and touched up her makeup her hand flew to her stomach as her insides churned. Her body trembled in fear and excitement with the knowledge that minutes from now she would meet Cole Jackson in person. Her dream come true since she was sixteen and BlackJack first hit the music scene. She took a drink of water and prayed she didn’t embarrass herself and throw up during her introduction to him.

  Now she stood with Cameron, outside the door to suite 526, and on the other side stood her idol. Okay, so she was a little old to have an idol, but he was something. The sound of someone singing and playing guitar drifted through the door. Cole. She reached out with an unsteady hand to knock on the door, only to pull back and groan. “Cameron, I don’t know if I can. I’ve always wanted to meet him. What if I make a fool of myself?”

  Cameron shot her a teenager’s exasperated look, complete with eye roll. “Mom, get real. You’re like the coolest Mom ever.”

  Before she had a chance to flee, Cameron knocked on the door, it flung open, and her stomach took a silent tumble. AJ greeted them with a warm smile and stepped aside, sweeping his arm out. “Welcome.”

  Shannon scanned the room anxiously, until she found Cole, sitting on the arm of a couch, strumming an acoustic guitar. Her lungs constricted and she couldn’t breathe, nor could she tear her eyes off him. He was mesmerizing. She drank in every detail she could make out from this vantage point. His dark blond hair was pulled off his face and he sported the in-fashion five o’clock shadow. She also noticed some hard lines on his face he didn’t have in his twenties. He didn’t look like a pretty boy anymore. Oh, no—he looked better—much better. Older, more handsome, and she detected a vulnerability most people might not see, but she had a trained eye for detail. He wore old jeans with holes at the knees, a plain black T-shirt that hugged his ripped body and black leather boots all scuffed and well broken in. She knew from his pictures he was tall, but she never imagined the muscles rippling in his arms as he played his guitar.