by Lois Richer
“Aren’t you coming in?” Kyle shoved his door open, frown in place.
“I’m coming. I hope having me here doesn’t make your mom late for work.” Maybe he should have refused the invitation?
“It won’t.” Kyle was through the front door in a flash, backpack thudding into a closet. “She’s always got everything organized.”
Organized wasn’t exactly how Brendan would have described the interior of the Tanner home, though it wasn’t a mess. More like a jumble of life. He stared at the huge treadmill that occupied a large section of the living room and wondered if that was the secret behind Nurse Tanner’s long legs.
“Come on in,” Chloe called from somewhere to his left.
Brendan followed Kyle, his nose twitching at the mingled aromas of turkey, apples and cinnamon.
Madison was setting the kitchen table. Kyle had the fridge door open in a quest for juice. Chloe, cheeks pink, hair seized in a scarf and tumbling down her back, was placing a salad on the table.
“Have a seat,” she offered. “I’ll get the casserole in a minute.”
“Thanks.” He glanced out the patio door and noticed a cleared area bounded by boards. “Are you building something?”
“Mom, build something? Are you kidding? She’s allergic to hammers.” Madison giggled. “Kyle built that. It’s for my hockey rink. If it ever gets cold enough, that is.” She took pity on Brendan’s confusion and explained. “We flood that section between the boards so we can play hockey. If it’s too warm for ice, we play on the ground. The boards are the edge of the rink.”
“You may have guessed that Madison loves sports.” Chloe sat down, heaved a sigh and smiled. “Now, let’s say grace.”
The children bowed their heads and she said something about being blessed. Then the food was passed around. Silence reigned momentarily as everyone enjoyed the tasty meal. Brendan savored each mouthful. A gorgeous woman who could cook like this while holding down a full-time job and managing two kids—no wonder she was organized.
“Mrs. Mills will be here as soon as we’re finished. Kyle, it’s your turn to scrape the dishes and load the dishwasher. Mrs. Mills shouldn’t have to do it. Then you can do your homework. You, too, Maddy. No television tonight.”
Their mingled moans were ignored.
“This casserole is delicious.” Brendan savored the last of the rich flavors on his tongue and smiled at Chloe. “You should sell the recipe.”
“I’m not sure anyone would pay, but thank you. Would you like some more or would you rather have apple brown Betty for dessert?”
“Dessert wins every time.” He accepted the huge portion she offered, listening as Madison told him all about her cat named Oz and two guinea pigs.
“Don’t forget to feed them tonight. Kanga and Roo were out of water this morning.” Chloe poured them two cups of coffee and passed one to Brendan with the cream. “Your job must be very demanding, Mr. Montgomery. What do you do in your spare time?”
“Mr. Montgomery is my dad. My name is Brendan. I’m starting a model club at the church,” he told her. “I was just wondering if Kyle would like to come. We can always use one more.”
“Models?” Kyle frowned. “What kind of models?”
“Well, the idea is to practice on smaller stuff. Cars, boats, that kind of thing. Eventually I’d like to put together a remote control kit for an airplane.”
“Cool.” Kyle jumped up, dumped his plate on the counter. He started to leave the room, but paused when his mother cleared her throat. “Course, I probably won’t be able to go because I’ll be doing women’s work,” he snapped sourly, his voice brimming with hostility.
“Kyle.” Chloe’s low voice warned him. “You live here, you eat here, you help with the dishes.”
“Nag, nag, nag.” He slammed a dish on the counter, tossing her an angry look. “That’s probably why Dad had to get away from you.”
The clank of the dishes was the only sound in the room. Brendan didn’t dare look up from his coffee cup. He didn’t want to see the hurt chagrin on Chloe’s face, nor did he want her to have to reprimand the boy in front of him which was probably why she was hesitating.
“That was a wonderful meal,” he said, changing the subject. “I’d really like to have the recipe for that casserole sometime.”
“Recipe? You cook?” Kyle’s shock was almost comical.
“If I didn’t cook, I wouldn’t eat. Besides, my mother raised us with the belief that men should be able to look after themselves or they’re still boys.” Brendan rose, carried his own plate to the sink then faced Chloe. “You need to get ready for work, don’t you?”
She nodded, eyes wide, tinges of pink embarrassment still clinging to her cheeks. “Yes, I do.”
“Why don’t you go and change while we clean up?” he said quietly. “It won’t take us long. You’re not nearly as messy as me. I generally use every article in the kitchen when I cook.”
“But…thank you.” She stared at Kyle for several moments then turned to leave the room.
Brendan said nothing, simply continued to carry the dishes to the sink where Kyle began scraping them. Madison remained at the table but didn’t seem inclined to talk. Brendan was on the point of saying something when Kyle finally set down his spatula.
“Excuse me, Mr. Montgomery. I need to talk to my mom.”
“You go ahead, Kyle. I’ll get Madison to help me if I need it.”
Head downcast, the boy left the room, hopefully to apologize.
“Kyle’s nasty sometimes. He doesn’t really mean it, he’s just mad.” Madison began loading the dishwasher, her fingers quick as she slid the plates into place. “Our dad was supposed to pick him up after school today. They were going out for supper, but Dad didn’t show. I guess he forgot. Again.”
“It happens.” Brendan tried not to sound curious. It was none of his business what happened with this family, but he felt as badly for the mother who tried so hard as he did for the kids who clearly wanted a relationship with a man who couldn’t be bothered.
Madison filled the sink with hot soapy water. “You wash and I’ll dry.”
“Why do I get to wash the pots?” he asked, catching a twinkle in her eyes.
“Because you don’t have homework,” she shot back, giggling when he dabbed soapsuds on her nose.
They’d just finished when Chloe emerged looking fresh and ready for what could only be a grueling twelve-hour shift. He noticed two things: Kyle was not with her and her beautiful hair had been confined to a twist at the back of her head. What a shame to hide such beauty.
“You really didn’t have to do them all.” She glanced at the sparkling counters. “But thank you.”
“Our pleasure.” Brendan winked at Madison, who followed his cue perfectly and bowed at the waist. The doorbell rang. “That’s my reminder to get going. Thanks again for a wonderful meal, Mrs. Tanner.”
“It’s Chloe. And you’re welcome. Thank you for helping to coach Madison. As you might have noticed, she’s delighted to have you.” She opened the door and welcomed in the older woman who stood on the doorstep. “Hi, Mrs. Mills. This is Mr. Montgomery. He coaches Madison’s soccer team with Buddy Jeffers.”
“Hello.” Mrs. Mills gave him the once-over, hung up her coat and took off as if she’d been scalded.
“Something I said?” Brendan asked, a little surprised by her hostility.
“Mrs. Mills doesn’t care much for men,” Chloe told him, her mouth stretched into a wicked grin. “I don’t think it’s personal.”
“What about Mr. Mills?”
“I don’t know.” Chloe frowned. “I assumed he’s dead and gone. I’ve never met him anyway.”
“Probably a good thing, if he is gone. For him, I mean. All that sourness would be hard to take.” He liked it when she laughed. Her face transformed, lost the lines that worry put there and made her look young and carefree. “I’ll probably see you at the hospital tonight. I want to check up on a few things about the
mayor’s shooting—to do with the bullets.”
“Oh.” She blinked as if she were surprised. “Okay. Later.”
Brendan nodded, pulled the door closed behind him, shoved his hands in his pants pockets and walked toward his vehicle, slightly surprised by the chill of the now brisk wind. November in Colorado Springs was always tricky. Balmy in the morning, a raging blizzard by noon and a chinook the next day.
“Chinook weather would be good, Lord. We’ve got a chance at the finals and I’d sure like some sun for it.” He drove to his apartment, trying to decipher his thoughts about the Tanner family. The boy, Kyle, needed a little reining in. Brendan could understand his need for his father, but that didn’t excuse his attitude. Madison was a delight, easy-going, sweet and willing to try anything. Chloe stumped him.
She was gorgeous, of course. But she seemed reticent, restrained, as if she were afraid he might try to take advantage. No, that wasn’t quite right. She’d invited him into her home, made him welcome—so why did he feel she was holding him at arm’s length? Had he expected her to be as open as Madison?
Clearly there were things in the Tanner family that they were still working through, but that was true of any family. Yet he couldn’t help wondering about the kids’ father. Why hadn’t the guy shown up today? What kind of a father let his kid down like that and didn’t bother to phone and explain?
Brendan parked in his spot, rode the elevator to his apartment and grabbed his laptop. He had a lot of questions about the Tanners, but his job was to find out whatever he could about the mayor’s shooting. That subject should help keep his mind off a certain nurse.
Brendan perused the files he’d downloaded from headquarters for over an hour but couldn’t settle into it. Maybe if he checked the hospital records he’d find something else to go on. And he could make an excuse to see Chloe. In a flash he was back on the road, soon pulling into the hospital parking lot. As he arrived at the parkade entrance, he had to wait while the attendant dealt with a customer leaving the lot.
His vehicle was higher, giving Brendan a good view of the other car and the man inside. He took a second look. Something about him seemed…familiar. He thought about the man who’d spoken to Owen Frost the other night—was this the same man? A moment later the vehicle was gone and Brendan shrugged off his impression. Probably just some guy leaving after visiting his wife. Maybe Brendan had even known him once. When he’d lived here, he’d known tons of people in Colorado Springs. Still, he’d been away a lot and people moved.
But as he waited at the office for the information he’d requested, the face swam back into his mind. Not so much the face, he decided. It was something in the eyes that seemed familiar. He thought he’d seen eyes like that before; eyes that held secrets too dark to expose to daylight. Dangerous eyes.
Brendan shrugged off his speculative thoughts and accepted the file of information he’d requested.
They were just eyes. Nothing malevolent about eyes.
Chapter Three
Chloe shifted on the vinyl chair, lifted her heels to rest them on the seat opposite her and checked the clock. Midnight.
She still had twenty minutes of her break left and she needed it. Tonight had been crazy.
“Hi.” Brendan Montgomery’s handsome face loomed above her, his dazzling smile wide.
“Hi, yourself. You’re out a little late, aren’t you?”
“I was working on a file and forgot the time.” He nudged his tray onto her small table. “Figured I’d have a snack before I go home.”
“You’re hungry again?” She clapped a hand over her mouth as soon as the words escaped. A flood of heat burned her cheeks. “Please excuse me.”
“Forget it,” he laughed, sitting down beside her. “I admit I eat a lot. High metabolism, I guess.”
“Lucky you.” She watched him munch on his BLT and fries while her brain unraveled in the relative silence of the coffee shop.
“You look tired. Busy night?”
“Very. A couple of cardiac arrests after drug overdoses. We’re monitoring both of them.” Chloe felt that sinking despair grab her insides. “Why do they do it? One of those kids isn’t even sixteen, but her heart is almost ruined from using crack cocaine. It’s such a waste.”
“Crack?” Brendan frowned. “But I thought—hoped—crack was a thing of the past in Colorado Springs.”
“It should be.” Chloe shrugged. “But I don’t suppose a town’s ever rid of it altogether. This past week has been particularly rough. I think we’ve had the most drug cases since I moved here.” She rubbed the knot in the back of her neck. “It kills me to see kids throwing away their futures, damaging their minds and bodies. But to know that someone is profiting from their misery infuriates me even more.”
“Me, too.” Brendan’s face hardened. “You don’t happen to remember the names of the last two victims, do you?”
“You know I can’t release that information. You’ll have to check with the front office until someone tells me differently.” Chloe stretched her calves, welcoming the pull that drew out the tension. “I just hope they wise up.”
“You really take your patients’ problems to heart, don’t you?”
Brendan watched her like a hawk. It was discomfiting to be the subject of such intense scrutiny.
“You make it sound like it’s personal,” he added.
“Because it is! Drugs impact all of us. I hate it that someone is sitting out there waiting for my kid to make a bad decision. I hate it that one simple mistake can make such a difference to an entire life.” She cut off the past, told herself to get over it.
“Sounds like you’ve had some experience with mistakes.” If it hadn’t been before, his focus was now completely on her.
Should she tell him? Chloe couldn’t decide. It was personal, a private trial she’d gone through, and yet it had helped her relate to others.
“I know what it’s like to use pills to live through your days, to cover up the pain and heartache you don’t want to face.” She didn’t look away from his scrutiny. “I know what it’s like to need that pill so much that you feel lost and defenseless without it to block out the hurt. So yeah, you could say I take it personally.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Chloe.” His big hand reached out and covered hers, warm and comforting.
“Thanks.” She carefully drew her hand away. “It was hard and it was painful, but at least I got through. Some don’t.”
“That’s true,” he said, somewhat distractedly.
Chloe twisted around. “What are you looking at?”
“Who is that?” Brendan asked, his voice low.
She stared, shrugged. “I have no idea. Why?”
“I saw him when I came in. He was leaving then. Seems odd he’d be coming back to the hospital at this hour.”
“Maybe he was called back.” She turned her head to study the man who passed within ten feet of them, his face turned away. “Sometimes a physician will ask the hospital to notify the family if a patient takes a turn for the worse and they feel there’s a need for immediate visitation.” She watched Brendan rub a spot on the back of his neck and wondered why he seemed so interested in this particular man.
“He’s wearing black but he doesn’t look like a man who’s grieving. Look at those boots. They look like combat boots.”
Chloe almost laughed. It was the first time she’d been ignored for a man, and never for a pair of ugly boots, which made it perfectly clear that Brendan Montgomery had absolutely no interest in her. Good.
“I’m going back to work now,” she told him.
“Your break isn’t up yet.” He stared at her with a frown, attention momentarily diverted from the man who now entered an elevator.
“No, it isn’t. But we’re behind. Besides, I want to call Mrs. Mills and make sure everything is all right at home. Good night.” Chloe dumped the things off her tray into the garbage, set the tray on a rolling cart nearby and started toward the elevators
, forcing herself not to look back at him.
Agent Brendan Montgomery was a very attractive man, and when he was around her blood pressure soared. But Chloe knew she couldn’t afford the distraction. Men weren’t to be trusted. Hadn’t Steve taught her that lesson the hard way?
All seemed quiet on the floor. Chloe spent a few minutes talking to Mrs. Mills, who was not thrilled by the interruption to her nap.
“Sorry I woke you, Mrs. Mills. I just wanted to check in, make sure all was well. Good night.” Chloe hung up with a grimace. Sometimes she wished she could find someone else to stay with the kids, someone who wasn’t quite so…negative. But sitters weren’t easy at the best of times, and finding one who could stay all night was toughest of all.
“Did you check on the mayor lately?” she asked Theresa, who shook her head “no” and hurried away to answer another monitor’s bleep. “I’ll do it then.”
The mayor’s room was the farthest one away from the station. As Chloe hurried toward it, a noise startled her. The guard wasn’t in his place by the door but flickering shadows told her someone was inside the room.
Some inner caution slowed Chloe. She clamped her lips together before glancing around the corner. A man stood at the side of the bed. He wore scrubs and a surgical mask, which was perfectly normal. Doctors came and went through the mayor’s room, constantly checking on them. But something about this doctor didn’t seem quite right, so she opened her mouth to ask his name. But before any sound could come out, she closed it, her eyes on his feet.
He wore combat boots—just like the ones Brendan had commented on earlier. She could only see the eyes and a tuft of brown hair from under the cap, but Chloe was almost certain it was the man from downstairs, and he was talking to the mayor. Chloe inched around the corner and listened.
“You were warned,” he whispered, his voice carrying clearly to her. He slid a hypodermic needle out of his pocket and inserted it into the mayor’s IV line, his thumb pushing whatever was in the cylinder into the life-giving fluids.
