Jenna blew out a short breath. “I’ve felt so safe there the last few years, but this makes me want to bump up our attempt to buy a house. We’re going to need more space anyway.”
A house might not be any more immune to burglary, but Tara kept her mouth shut. Jenna’s response was emotional, not logical. And it was none of Tara’s business anyway. “So, how are you feeling? I’m sure labor is exhausting.”
“It is, but so worth the result.” Jenna’s smile shone through in her words.
“She’s beautiful.”
“Yes. I can’t wait to share her with you. She’s going to steal your heart.”
“Too late.”
Jenna laughed. “No regrets, but I’m so tired. And glad it’s over. Nature has this way of making you forget what it’s like.”
“I hope to know firsthand someday.” Dammit. She’d promised she wouldn’t do that. Jenna did not need to feel guilty for having what Tara wanted.
“You will. I’m sure of it. I understand why you’ve been avoiding men the last few years, but don’t completely cut yourself off from the possibilities.”
“I won’t.”
Tara wanted to tell her about Jeff, but what was the point? He was a transient figure in her life, no matter how she felt about him. And Jenna was right. Tara had taken her interactions with men to the complete opposite extreme. No wonder she’d fallen in love with the first great guy she let herself get close to.
She just had to figure out how to make that kind of connection with men who were available for the potential of something lasting.
If Jeff had given her any clue that he might want to pursue a serious relationship with her after he and Evan settled into their new lives, she’d happily wait for him. But waiting for a man who didn’t want her was just another way of keeping her heart closed off from other prospects.
She had to find a way to let go and move on.
Hah. Easy to say.
She silently promised herself that if she found a man with potential—one who treated her well and liked her for qualities beyond her looks—she’d give him a chance. Even if her heart hadn’t fully healed from losing Jeff.
“Good,” Jenna said and then let out a long sigh.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing really. I just wish my family was still around to meet the kids.” Jenna had grown up in a loving, close-knit family of five, but had lost them all by her mid-twenties.
“Me too.” What else could Tara say? “Rob would have been an amazing uncle.” Tears pricked at her eyes. He was the only member of Jenna’s family Tara had met, and his death had brought Jenna and Mick together, so the loss was bittersweet. In fact, Tara should have considered how hard Jenna’s best moments must be without her brothers or parents around to share the joy.
Losing Emily had taught Tara exactly how deeply the loss of family cut.
A weight settled in her stomach. She would never see her sister grow into the woman she was meant to be, never hold her hand during pre-wedding jitters, never know the joy of cradling Emily’s children. And Emily wouldn’t be at her side to share in any of Tara’s happiest moments or sorrows either.
“Outside of Mick and the kids, you’re the closest thing to family that I have,” Jenna said. “Thank you for coming down.”
Tara’s heart warmed. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Even with all the, uh, excitement, Robbie sounds a lot better. I’m sure you’re the main reason why.”
Heat crawled up Tara’s neck and washed across her cheeks. “Thank you. I’m just glad I could be here for all of you.”
“Me too. Especially because it means you’re safe.”
“I love you too.”
Jenna laughed. “Sorry. I’m full of hormones.”
“No complaints here.”
“Okay,” Jenna said. The faint cry of a newborn baby came through the line. “Sorry, I think she’s getting hungry. Really quick: Donna is on her way in from Dayton. Mick’s going to pick her up from the airport in about thirty minutes and bring her to the house. Adele’s already in a car on the way to our place from the Raleigh airport, and should arrive in the next hour, but they’re both staying in a hotel.”
Tara had slept on the couch because the former guest room had been transformed into a nursery for Mia. Even if they had space, the hotel was probably a better option for Mick’s mom and sister. From what Jenna had told Tara, Mick and his mom had a complicated relationship. But the woman loved Robbie, and would no doubt adore Mia too.
Tara had met Donna and Adele at the wedding—back when Adele had still been Mick’s brother Adam—and again right after Robbie was born. She didn’t know either of them well, but both had seemed nice enough. “Sounds good.”
“Adele’s in full transition. The transformation since she started taking hormones has been amazing. Wait till you see.”
“Awesome. Looking forward to it.” Tara could only admire someone who had such a strong sense of who they were, and the guts to brave the assholes and ignoramuses who would cause them grief. How many people could claim to be so fully aligned with their true selves? “How did Adele’s boyfriend take it?”
“They’re still friends, but no longer a couple. Corey supports her, but he’s gay, and now that Adele’s a woman…”
“That sucks, but she’ll be happier in the long run being herself.”
“Exactly. Watching Adele has made me aware that I need to create the type of relationship with my own children where they’ll know they’re safe to tell us anything without risking our love.”
“Adele and your kids are lucky to have such a supportive family.” Tara’s parents would be appalled if she were gay or transgender—hell, they were upset enough that she wasn’t a lawyer or doctor—but at least they’d never hit her like Mick’s dad. They honestly wanted what was best for her. She merely disagreed with their narrow idea of what was best, or how to go about getting it.
In the background, Mia’s cries started up again.
“Enjoy that baby girl,” Tara said. “I’ll keep things running on this end.”
“Will do. Thank you so much,” Jenna said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Can’t wait!” Tara was eager to meet Mia and see her best friend.
Once they were off the phone, Robbie asked, “Can we go play?”
She raised an eyebrow at her charge. “I thought you were sick.”
“Not anymore.” He clasped his hands together and grinned at her. “Please?”
He did seem almost normal this morning. His energy was back and he wasn’t sniffling anymore.
“Okay, but you have to take it easy. You might feel better, but if you do too much too fast, you’ll get sick again. And you need to be healthy when your mom and Mia come home.”
“And Grandma and Adele!” He grinned and ran in a circle.
Tara laughed. “That’s right. Them too.”
He bounced on his toes. “Let’s go.”
God, she was crazy about this kid. And maybe it would be good for him to burn off some of that energy before everyone else arrived. “You have to get dressed first.”
He nodded and raced into his bedroom. A few minutes later, he appeared in an inside-out T-shirt, jeans, and velcro-strap sneakers. “I’m ready!”
Close enough. “Grab a sweater. It’s still cool out. And a hat.”
He pouted.
“Or, we can stay inside and clean your room.”
Without a word, he ran to his bedroom again. Maybe she didn’t totally suck at this parenting thing.
She found the sunscreen and pulled her sweater over a clean T-shirt she’d borrowed from Jenna. Once they were protected from the UV rays and the chill, they made their way carefully down three flights of stairs to the sidewalk. The sun shone brightly, surprisingly warm in the humid air.
“Do you like my new shoes?” Robbie asked. “They make me fast like Dash,” he said, referring to the superboy in The Incredibles. “Watch!” He took off running, swi
nging his arms in an exaggerated arc as he sped across the grass.
Tara laughed and shook her head. He was so freaking adorable.
Within minutes she was pushing her favorite kid on the swings. Some day, she’d have a child of her own to cuddle and spoil, and discipline and tease. To love unconditionally, the way everyone deserved to be loved. The way Jeff loved Evan.
Ugh. She needed to stop thinking about Jeff. This morning had been a nice break. She’d been so focused on Robbie that she was totally in the moment. But now, her mind wandered.
The playground was empty, but when he tired of the swings, Robbie entertained himself sitting on what looked like a mini excavator with a big square bucket on the front. He scooped up a pile of sand, swiveled to one side and dropped it onto a growing mound, happy as could be.
If only her own joy were that simple. The last four years had proven that she didn’t need a man in her life to be happy. Not just any old warm body, anyway. But life without Jeff…
He’d blasted through all of her carefully laid plans for emotional independence. She couldn’t regret their time together, but it made her even more acutely aware of what life could be. How amazing love could be.
She wouldn’t die without him, but living without him was going to hurt. And despite her promise to be open for a new chance at love, she didn’t want to rebound into the arms of the first guy who was nice to her either.
Why was this so hard?
Desperate for a distraction from her thoughts, Tara pulled up the news on her phone. Late-season snow was expected across the Northeast, including several inches in DC. Not being home for that definitely deserved her gratitude. She was so over winter. Cherry blossoms were the only white she wanted to see on the ground this far into the year.
She scrolled absently, keeping an eye on Robbie, while skimming headlines about all the political shit going on, another workplace shooting, and a developing story about the murder of former Olympic gymnast and Post reporter Annette Collier.
Tara bolted upright. What the hell? The woman had been found when the neighbor in the basement unit accidentally set his kitchen on fire early this morning. He’d kicked in her door to make sure she got out safely and found her already dead.
Oh, shit. This couldn’t have anything to do with Tara, could it? She’d spoken to other journalists before her appointment with Annette. As many as would listen.
But could this really be a coincidence? Like the attempted break-in. She couldn’t remember her college statistics class, but putting two unrelated events together and assuming they formed a statistically significant pattern sounded like folly.
Except the events weren’t completely unrelated. Tara’s gut twisted. She was the common denominator.
She tapped on the photos and scrolled through images of the thirty-something Black woman that made her heart heavy. Annette Collier had the sad distinction of being the first reporter killed in the US in more than two years. She’d parlayed her household name into a successful career exposing corrupt politicians and government officials.
She’d probably made plenty of enemies.
Tara played the video that accompanied the article. The medical examiner estimated that she’d been dead since Friday morning.
Tara gasped and her entire body turned cold.
The same day she’d run into the blonde just outside Annette Collier’s house.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
OH SHIT OH shit oh shit. Tara jumped to her feet.
Maybe last night hadn’t been a random burglary attempt after all.
“Robbie, we need to go inside, honey.” She shoved her phone into her back pocket with a shaky hand. She needed to call the police, and she needed to get the hell out of here.
Every minute she stayed might be putting Robbie in danger, but she couldn’t just leave him alone.
The sun beat down on her head.
Sweat trickled down her sides.
The barren trees that lined the sidewalk stood motionless, gnarled and angry sentries who could offer no protection. Where was the damned breeze?
Adrenaline charged her veins as two people approached the playground from opposite sides of the complex. The man wore an olive-drab bomber jacket, a black ball cap, and over-the-ear headphones. Her neck prickled. Could he be the man at the door last night? His build was about right, and the burglar had also worn a baseball cap.
As if thousands of people didn’t.
Still… Time to go.
The blond woman striding toward them wore jeans, a loose cowl-necked sweater, and a small purse. In low-heeled boots, she was probably six feet tall. Adele.
Tara released a gust of air. “Thank God.” She grabbed the jacket Robbie had stripped off after playing on the swings and jogged toward him. “Robbie, Adele’s here.”
The boy’s head lifted and he popped out of the earth mover’s seat to run toward the woman. “Addy!”
Adele’s face split into a smile as she grabbed up the boy and swung him around. “Hey, kiddo. I thought you were sick.” Her voice was higher-pitched than the last time Tara had seen her, and her features seemed softer, more delicate. If Tara hadn’t already known the woman was transgender, she might have been none the wiser.
Robbie shook his head and grinned. “I’m all better. I had waffles.”
Adele laughed and walked toward Tara. “Hi. Good to see you again.”
“You too.” She forced a smile past her raging nerves.
They shook hands and headed toward the last building in the row. Tara glanced around, looking for anything suspicious, and walked head up, on high alert. Somehow, she needed to extricate herself without alarming Robbie, but also ensure that no one showed up here looking for her.
Assuming anyone was looking for her at all. Was she being ridiculous? Maybe the woman she’d run into had nothing to do with the reporter’s death. She could’ve been watching her brother’s dog, just like she said. But maybe not. According to the article, they were leaning toward a robbery gone wrong, but weren’t committing to any scenarios this early in the investigation.
They hadn’t questioned Tara because they didn’t know she was there. Which meant they probably didn’t know about the woman who—if she’d murdered the journalist—had a much bigger motive to want Tara dead than Greg Luciano had. Tara had latched onto the theory about Greg because it was the only one that had made sense at the time. She hadn’t given the incident with the woman in Arlington another thought once the bandage came off her own knee.
But now… Tara might be the only witness who could place the blonde at the scene of the crime.
On the sidewalk, the guy in the black hat approached as they turned toward the stairwell. Tara stuck her hand inside her bag. Did she have anything that could work as a weapon?
He passed them by without a glance, head down and bobbing slightly as if he was into the beat.
At the apartment door, she struggled to catch her breath, and it wasn’t from climbing the steps to the third floor. What if someone had followed her here? Or tracked her? She’d been trying to get comfortable trusting her instincts again, but she didn’t know what to think anymore.
“Everything okay?” Adele asked as they entered the apartment. “You remind me of Mick in the old days, head on a swivel, hyper-vigilant.”
“Um.” Would Adele think she was crazy? “I don’t think so.”
Through tacit agreement, they got Robbie settled in front of a video and stood in the kitchen. “What’s going on?” Adele asked.
Tara relayed the quick version of her weekend, including last night’s events. “I thought the danger was over when Greg was arrested, but now I’m not so sure. Either way, I need to tell the police what I know.”
“I can stay with Robbie. You do what you need to do.”
“I might be overreacting, but I don’t want to put anyone else in danger.”
Adele shook her head. “Trust your instincts. Better to err on the side of caution in this case.”
Tara let out a long sigh. “Thank you.” Adele’s support meant a lot. “I just hate letting Jenna and Mick down. I promised to be here and now I have to bail.”
Adele put a hand on Tara’s arm. “If anyone will understand your reasons, it’s Mick and Jenna. And no one can argue with protecting Robbie.”
Tara nodded, still feeling like a piece of crap, even if she was doing the right thing. And she was pissed that this whole mess was interfering with her time with Robbie. She’d been looking forward to hanging out with him. Not to mention getting to see Jenna and Mick, and meet Mia.
Tara huffed, her blood warming. This whole situation was bullshit. She was sick of running, sick of being on the defensive, sick of walking around on high alert. She needed to figure out how to end this.
Going to the police might be a start.
She collected her things and said her goodbyes to Robbie and Adele. At least Robbie was feeling better, and he seemed happy to have his aunt here. Tara tried not to be wounded that he hardly cared she was leaving. The kid was three.
And he loved her. She knew that. Enough to trust her when she told him she’d be back as soon as possible.
From her car, she called the Arlington police department and spoke to the detective in charge of Annette’s case. Tara told her about her encounter with the woman who’d been leaving Annette’s house, and her suspicion that the threat to Tara’s own life—and the early morning attempted break-in—might be related. “I might even have her fingerprints,” Tara said, belatedly remembering that the woman had helped her gather her things.
Detective Niegard agreed that the timing of the encounter with the blonde made it worth looking into. “How soon can you get here?”
“I’m currently in Myrtle Beach, but I could come in tomorrow morning.” It was almost eleven a.m. now, so depending on I-95 traffic, she could be home by seven or eight p.m. She’d checked flights, but driving would be quicker—and far cheaper—than catching the next plane out of town.
“You might want to hire some protection.”
“I’ll be careful.” Once she got back to Virginia, Kurt would be home from Boston and she could bring him up to speed.
Blind Justice Page 17
