And, God, she might be imagining things. Some kid who lived two blocks away might have it in for Mr. Rowe. Or...had anyone even asked enough questions to be sure he didn’t have enemies besides neighborhood kids? A grandson he’d cut off, or something like that?
Suddenly aware of a building headache, she said to Joel, “You’re right. None of this makes sense. And it may be chance that Mr. Rowe thinks you’re responsible, but we have to consider the possibility that whoever is doing this is trying to set you up. The gas can that came out of the garage, your window screen askew, those could be part of a setup.” Seeing his stricken face, she hesitated. “Let me think about what we should do, okay?”
Joel’s head bobbed. “You still believe me?”
He was begging. The thought flashed through her head that she should hesitate now, before answering. This faith in him was unreasoning. And yet, she’d learned to trust her gut.
“I do.” She smiled. “We’ll get through this.”
He had to wipe wet cheeks. “Okay,” he mumbled, choked up. “Thanks.”
“I do need to get going. What if I take you out to lunch tomorrow? One o’clock?”
He agreed, and she returned to the living room.
“Ben, you ready to go?” She looked at Pruitt. “You’ll keep me informed?”
His jaw tightened. “Yes, Ms. Lawson.”
She nodded in a general way at everyone else. “Lynne, Rod.”
Just before she turned, she saw that Gavin’s eyes had narrowed because she hadn’t bothered to acknowledge him. Screw the little creep.
Jumping to conclusions, an inner voice murmured.
Maybe, but something about him made her skin prickle.
She and Ben walked out to his SUV in silence, his hand under her elbow. He gave a boost to help her climb in before walking around to his side.
Still without saying anything, he started the engine, checked over his shoulder and pulled away from the curb. Eve stared straight ahead, weariness weighing heavily on her shoulders. Her head throbbed.
Ben made a U-turn at a cul-de-sac, returning the way they’d come. As they passed the Carters’ house again, Eve saw that Officer Pruitt was just leaving, Rod and he talking on the porch with the front door open behind them.
“Did you see the way he looked at him?” she fumed. “He’s so sure it’s Joel.”
“Pruitt?” At her nod, he said slowly, “I did get that impression.”
“Tell me you didn’t jump to the same one.” Her fierce tone earned her a sidelong glance.
“Eve, I don’t know enough to form an opinion. I understand you care for the kid, but Pruitt doesn’t know him the way you do. The fact he didn’t get the window screen reattached...” He shrugged. “You have to admit that’s suggestive.”
“Or it suggests someone else wants to lay the blame on Joel,” she shot back.
“Why would anybody do that?” he asked reasonably.
“Because that’s the point! Not Mr. Rowe at all.”
“You think it’s the other boy.”
“Yes.” She knew she was being too passionate, when she should strive to come off as the measured professional. Especially since even she knew she was being irrational. But right this minute, she didn’t care. “Or someone else,” she said more weakly. “But not Joel.”
Ben nodded.
After a minute, she had to ask. “What are you thinking?”
He let out a long breath. “That I’d like to agree with you to make you happy, but I can’t.” He held up a hand to stop her when she opened her mouth. “I don’t disagree with you, either. I don’t know either of them. My inclination is to respect Pruitt’s experience.”
“But not mine?” she said sharply.
“Damn it, Eve!” There was enough light for her to see his hands tighten on the steering wheel. “You asked my opinion. I don’t have one. This isn’t a playground where I jump in on your side whether you’re right or wrong because we’re friends.”
No, it wasn’t. Shame heated her cheeks. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be putting pressure on you because I’m upset.” Determined to regain control of her churning emotions, she turned her head to stare blindly out the side window. The pounding beneath her temple was as rhythmic as a metronome.
“Eve?” Ben said after a minute.
She was careful to move really slowly when she looked back at him. “Yes?”
“You’re pissed.”
“Why would you think that? I said you’re right. I shouldn’t have brought you with me in the first place. I was putting you on the spot. So let’s just drop it, okay? Truth is, I have a crushing headache.”
He didn’t say a damn thing, leaving her to wonder whether he didn’t believe her or thought the conversation had been inconsequential.
She did know it was one she shouldn’t have started. No, he didn’t know any of the players except Pruitt beyond what she’d told him. While they were there, the only thing she’d heard Gavin say was a defense of Joel. Lynne hadn’t said a word after greeting them at the door unless she’d talked while Eve was with Joel in the kitchen. So expecting him to jump in on Joel’s side had been childish.
And yet, her belly harbored a small, burning coal of hurt anyway. It was there because he did know her, but apparently valued Officer Pruitt’s opinion higher than hers nonetheless. Because he was a fellow deputy? Because she was a woman? That better not be why, she fumed. Because he thought she was too emotional to think clearly? Who knew?
He parked in a visitor slot at her apartment house, and, still without saying a word, got out and walked her to her door.
There, he waited until she unlocked, then gave her a rueful look. “As endings to an evening go, this one sucks.”
“My fault,” she admitted, almost sure she’d have invited him in if they hadn’t been sidetracked.
“No, you were doing your job, that’s all. There’ll be times I have to do mine and you may not agree with my decisions.”
“But if you’d gotten a call, you wouldn’t have taken me with you, would you?”
He made a sound. “Probably not. Eve, sometimes it would be dangerous for you to go with me.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “You win. Good night, Ben.”
“Hey, not so fast.” Voice suddenly husky, he lifted one hand and slid it around her nape. “I’d really like to kiss you, Eve.”
“Oh, fine.” She laughed at his expression. “I’d like you to kiss me, too.”
No matter what, he stoked a fire in her. He kept the kiss closer to tender than passionate, and still warmth flooded her and her knees grew weak. Eve didn’t participate so much as...accept. When he finally pressed soft lips to her forehead and murmured, “Sleep tight,” it was all she could do to pry her fingers loose from their grip on his coat.
“You, too,” she whispered, and backed inside her apartment. The last thing she saw was him waiting, his blue eyes gleaming, for her to close the door and lock up.
CHAPTER SIX
“BUT YOU SAID we could go sledding again. Mommy says if we don’t go tomorrow, the snow might all melt, and then we couldn’t go until next winter.” Which in Rachel’s worldview was forever and ever away. Indignation thrust her lower lip out. “Anyway, I’ve seen those movies.”
Crap. Ben hadn’t looked forward to seeing either of the two movies currently playing that were aimed at the preschool set, but driving that far only so she could whine that she was cold, Daddy, had even less appeal. But Mommy was right; two weeks from tomorrow would be March 28, bumping up to April, and it was possible that the snow would have melted from the more accessible—and gently sloped—sledding hills.
“Let me think about it,” he temporized. “Right now, you need to go to bed. We’ll talk about it again in the morning.”
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The lower lip protruded even farther. “But, Daddy...”
He bent a look at her that made her give a theatrical sigh and climb beneath the covers.
“You’re mean.”
He laughed. “No, I’m not. A mean daddy wouldn’t offer to take his little girl out for pizza or hamburgers and to a movie. Or read her seven—count ’em—seven books before bed.”
She giggled. “You’ll leave the door open, right?”
“How could I forget?”
The bathroom light would stay on all night, serving as a night-light and making it easy for her if she needed to get up. He hugged her one more time, kissed the top of her head as he flicked off her bedside lamp and retreated to the kitchen.
There his smile died. For once, he’d almost hoped Nic would call with one of her many excuses to “switch” weekends. He’d have really liked to spend time with Eve. Instead, he’d had to say, nope, I have my daughter for the weekend, so maybe next week. And, though that conversation had taken place over the phone, he could picture all too well how her glow had dimmed.
Assuming she’d been glowing, he thought, disturbed as he’d been most of the week when he thought about her. Saturday, he’d called to find out if they could do something, but she was with Joel and only said, “I’m afraid not.” Sunday, a drunken brawl at a biker bar had escalated into a homicide that fell to him and Seth. Tuesday he and Eve managed dinner—pizza again. They planned for Thursday night, and she had to cancel.
“Tomorrow,” she’d begun, when he had had to say, “No, I have Rachel.”
Ne’er the twain shall meet.
Where was his head anyway? He had good reasons for keeping his life compartmentalized. Was he second-guessing himself?
Yeah, that’s exactly what he was doing. Ben sank his fingers into his hair and yanked hard enough to hurt. If Eve was along, he was betting Rach would have more fun. He wanted to see Eve. Really, what was the harm?
Rachel might develop an attachment to Eve.
Not in the course of one outing, for God’s sake. Or even a few. As long as he didn’t give her any reason to think Eve was more than a friend, why would she? He wouldn’t include Eve every weekend, just once in a while.
Jolted, he thought, I’m assuming Eve wants to be included.
He kept thinking she’d cooled off some this week. If so, it had begun last Friday night, when he declined to come out fighting on Joel Kekoa’s side.
She’d sounded genuine when she apologized for trying to drag him into a situation he knew nothing about. He’d have thought no more about it if she hadn’t seemed so distracted this week.
And, yeah, there was the fact that Eve hadn’t mentioned Joel either Tuesday evening at dinner or during their several phone conversations, which he’d have thought would be natural. He had had to ask if anything more had happened, and her answer was terse.
“No. There’s no real evidence to implicate him. Joel volunteered to help rebuild the deck, but Mr. Rowe refused. The week has been quiet.”
“You know something else will happen,” he’d suggested.
“One more incident, and I’ll move Joel to another foster home.” She had changed the subject, clearly uninterested in discussing it with him, and he couldn’t blame her.
He also couldn’t give her what he guessed she wanted, which left them at an impasse.
Having Rachel with them would mean they couldn’t talk about Joel.
Win-win.
“Fine!” he snapped, startling himself when he realized he’d said it aloud.
He checked to make sure it wasn’t too late to call, then grabbed his phone.
Eve answered on the third ring. “Ben?” she said, sounding surprised. “Is everything all right?”
“Sure. Just wanted to hear your voice.”
“That’s nice. Don’t you have Rachel?”
“Yeah, but she’s gone to bed.”
“I see.”
He wanted to believe that was one of the meaningless things people murmured, but knew better.
“Truth is, uh, I was wondering if you’re free tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Rachel wants to go sledding again. I was hoping you’d come with us.”
“I would love to go,” she said promptly. “Even if I secretly suspect you’re asking because you’re convinced I’ll be able to keep her interested for more than five minutes.”
Relief loosened Ben’s throat, and he laughed. “Damn, you’ve got me. What I really think is that you’re more fun than I am.”
Her snort somehow still sounded feminine. “I can’t remember the last time anyone called me ‘fun.’”
“I think you are.” Hearing the hushed quality of his voice, he thought, Uh-oh. Hastily, going for humorous, he said, “I’ll bet you’d have cut loose on the dance floor with a date who wasn’t too uptight.”
Eve laughed. “Maybe. Okay. What time?”
They made arrangements, then talked for a few more minutes, both keeping their voices quiet even though neither said anything important. He felt something that had been lacking the rest of the week. An intimacy, he decided, surprising himself with a word he couldn’t remember ever using before.
No, call a spade a spade: she’d forgiven him. That was good enough.
After letting her go, he walked quietly down the hall to stand in the doorway to Rachel’s bedroom, just checking on her. He had done that every night, until he no longer lived under the same roof. Needing to know she was safe before he went to sleep himself.
Tonight, she made a small lump beneath the covers. The band of light from the hall fell across her, letting him see the shimmer of blond hair on the pillow. She mumbled and buried her face deeper in the pillow before relaxing into sleep again.
Real anticipation rose in him as he imagined Rachel’s excitement when he agreed to take her sledding, then picking up Eve.
Yeah, this would work out fine.
* * *
“SO THEN MRS. MESSNER SAID, ‘Caleb’—” Rachel’s voice deepened dramatically “—‘that wasn’t nice. How would you like to have a favorite shirt ruined by paint?’ Only, he said he wouldn’t care, and he dumped the whole pot of red paint on himself. It got in his hair ’n’ everything.” She sounded awed.
Eve hid her smile. Rachel had chattered almost nonstop for the past half hour, mostly about school and the apparently colorful cast of characters that made up her days. Listening, Eve had angled her body so that she could look over her shoulder often, which of course also had the benefit of letting her watch Ben, mostly in profile. And, darn it, even his profile was perfect—his forehead high, his nose thin and straight, the jut of cheekbone sharp, a chin proportioned for the rest of his face. She’d been able to watch when he smiled and that line in his cheek deepened along with the crinkles beside his eyes.
Without being too obvious, she could study his throat, the way his mint-gold hair curled just slightly over his collar. His hands, the taut muscles in his thighs outlined by worn denim, strong brown forearms exposed when he’d pushed up his sleeves once the heater kicked in.
And she could smile at his daughter, who was smart, funny, charming and theatrical. However grudgingly, Eve was gaining respect for Ben’s ex-wife. Whatever her other flaws, she had to be a good mother, or Rachel wouldn’t be so unaffected, so trustingly certain she’d be liked, so observant of the other kids and even her teacher.
Not to say, she reminded herself, that Ben didn’t play a big part in building his daughter’s confidence. He talked to her directly, listened as if what she said mattered to him, and didn’t give away mixed feelings about Nicole when Rachel talked about her mommy.
“Are you learning to read yet?” Eve asked.
“Uh-huh! I’m in the top reading group, ’cuz I can read wh
ole books ’n’ most of the kids only know their letters,” she declared. “I wish we could use computers more at school. Mommy lets me type on hers, and play games and stuff.”
Ben glanced sidelong at Eve and said, sotto voce, “She grumbles every weekend because I don’t have any good games on my laptop.”
His daughter giggled. “I do not!”
“I make up for it by reading tons of stories to her every night. Mountains of stories. Piles of books vast enough to reach the moon.”
Rachel thought that was hilarious, too. She did concede that Daddy read lots to her. Mommy did, too, but not so much anymore ’cuz she said Rachel should practice reading stories herself.
“I bet your daddy reads ones to you that you can’t read yet, doesn’t he?” Eve suggested.
“Uh-huh. Daddy says we might even start a chapter book. It might take us a long time to finish, but that’s okay. I could think about the story ’tween visits and imagine what happens.”
Eve got a lump in her throat. What she’d have given at Rachel’s age to have a daddy who would suggest things like that. Oh, who was she kidding? There’d been a time her dream had only been big enough to imagine having any kind of daddy at all. Now, with adult hindsight, she knew better. Given that her mother had been a drug addict and on-again/off-again prostitute, any man she’d have picked was unlikely to have been quality father material. Eve had come to believe herself fortunate that her biological father’s only role had been to supply sperm.
And then she’d been lucky enough to have Kirk Lawson. She felt sure he’d have read to her if she hadn’t been too old by then to need him to.
“Ladies, we’re here,” Ben declared just then, putting on the turn signal. “Looks like we’re not alone, but the more the merrier, right?”
Peering ahead as eagerly as Rachel was, Eve saw that he was right. Eight or nine other vehicles were already here, and people in colorful parkas and hats were pulling sleds and plastic discs uphill while others flashed down.
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