“Try again,” Eve suggested, as steely as him at his best.
Ben gave up. “What you said about Rachel looking like Hope. It made me feel...” He hesitated.
“Sorry for me.” She gave a small laugh. “How heartwarming.”
“Not sorry for you. Bad for you. That’s different.”
She shook her head.
He was frustrated to realize he was turning into her apartment complex. “Eve...”
“I suppose I should thank you for coming.” She freed herself from her seat belt before he even braked to a stop in the visitor slot. Once he had, she opened her door.
“Eve, let’s not end the evening like this.”
“No? You had in mind a quickie before you went home?”
“You know that’s not what I meant!”
“Do I?” She slid to the ground. “No, please don’t walk me up. It’s not necessary.”
He hated and resented the fear that had a grip on him, but it was real and told him he was losing her.
Had lost her.
“Eve,” Ben said hoarsely. “Stop.”
She paused just before slamming the passenger door, her eyes dark and turbulent in the harsh lighting.
“I was a jerk.”
“Yes, you were,” she said after a moment. “Why?”
Good question. Like it or not, he’d agreed to having dinner at her parents’ house. He hoped they hadn’t noticed his reluctance, but he’d known Eve saw through his thin veneer of civility to the resentment beneath.
Had he been trying to make sure she understood that theirs wasn’t that kind of relationship, and he was irritated at what he saw as her pushing?
Ben didn’t think it had been that conscious, not initially, at least.
This was where he should say, Eve, I like you, I enjoy your company, but I’m not looking to get married again. You need to know that.
But if he said it, she was gone. No doubt whatsoever. And just thinking that was enough to tighten the band of fear until it made it hard to draw a breath.
If this was as casual as he wanted it to be, he should be feeling philosophical. There were other fish in the sea. He knew women noticed him. They flirted with him. If sex was all he wanted, he could have someone new in his bed by next weekend.
Slammed by shock, he felt as if he’d walked into a sliding glass door. Wham.
He was staggering back when Eve shook her head, closed the door and started for the lobby.
Ben leaped out and followed her. “Eve, just give me a minute.”
She had a tight grip on her bag as she turned very slowly. “It’s cold out here.”
“Let me say this.” He needed time to think, but she wasn’t giving him that. Residual resentment, fear, guilt, all churned in his belly. “I’ve only been divorced for a year. I never expected my marriage to fail. My parents—” He shook his head. Didn’t matter. “I felt like I’d screwed up. For a long time, I thought maybe I could fix it. I’ve taken women out a few times, but, uh, you mean something. They didn’t. It’s...taking some adjustment. If you can’t deal with that...” His throat seemed to have thickened. “I understand. I should have said this sooner, told you why I didn’t want to go to dinner with your parents yet.”
Yet? Do I mean that?
More shock came in the wake of realizing he did. He didn’t know what he felt for Eve, but he thought about her all the time, wondered how her days went, hated the idea of her heading out at night alone as she’d been prepared to do after the fire her kid Joel had been accused of setting.
The passion between them was explosive.
And, shit, the sight of tears swimming in her eyes just about killed him.
He took a step forward, then made himself stop. “I’m sorry.”
“No.” She wiped under each eye. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have even asked you. I was really annoyed when Mom suggested I bring you. I should have just said no. You and I’ve only been seeing each other for, what, a month?”
Five weeks, he thought, annoyed that she didn’t know.
“I just thought...” She hunched her shoulders. “I don’t know what I thought.”
“It’s all right, Eve.” He crossed the distance separating them in a couple of strides and gathered her into his arms. “I was a jerk. Your parents are nice people. I’ve known your mother, especially, for a while. There wasn’t any reason we shouldn’t have dinner with them.”
“Yes, there is.” She rubbed her cheek against his jacket. “No pressure. I promise. It’s way too soon for either of us to know where our relationship is going.”
He had a sudden need to pin her down, not let this parting be open-ended. “Can we have dinner tomorrow? I’d really like a chance to make up for tonight.”
“Yes.” Her smile glowed, but it was tremulous, too. “You don’t have anything to make up for, but I’d like to see you.”
“God.” He bent his head and kissed her, hard, deep, desperate, and needed the response she gave so freely.
Even so, she didn’t invite him in. He’d left his truck running, so she backed away, gave him a last smile that quivered on her lips and let herself into her building, leaving him outside.
* * *
PLEASED WITH HERSELF because she was actually a couple of minutes early for once, Eve was almost at the Mexican restaurant to meet Ben when her phone rang. After-hours calls were rarely good. A glance at the name ratcheted up her apprehension. She touched her earpiece.
“Joel?”
“Ms. Lawson?” He sounded young and scared. “Something bad has happened.”
“Tell me.” Turn signal on, she pulled over to the curb.
“Um, Mr. Rowe feeds some stray cats.”
Her sinking sensation came from two causes. She was going to hear something she didn’t want to hear—and she’d just learned something about the grumpy old man that made her like him.
“One of them is dead. It was right outside his kitchen window, hung with twine from the eaves.”
Her stomach lurched. “Oh, no.”
“It was this really friendly cat, you know, one of those orange and black and white ones?”
“A calico.”
“I used to pet it whenever I saw it.” He sounded miserable.
“Not it. She.”
“What?”
“Calicos are almost always females,” she heard herself say. “It’s a genetic thing.”
He apparently couldn’t think of a single response to this fascinating fact, shared at a completely inappropriate time.
She closed her eyes. “I suppose he accused you.”
“Yes. But I’d never hurt an animal!”
This was the moment when she needed to seriously consider the possibility that Joel Kekoa was playing her, that in fact he had a hidden vicious side.
Why would it suddenly appear now?
Because in the past Joel’s targets had been more random, maybe not so close to home? Because nobody had ever accused him before?
Both possible, she had to admit.
And didn’t believe any of it. She would stake almost anything on her certainty that the shock, bewilderment and hurt she’d seen on his face were genuine. And then there was her gut level unease about Gavin.
“Ms. Lawson?” It was almost a whisper.
“I had to think for a minute,” she said, assuming a calm mantle. “I said last time that we’d have to move you if anything more happened. I still think that’s best.”
“But...where will I go?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” If she couldn’t come up with another solution, she’d ask her parents to let him spend the night. He couldn’t stay where he was. “Joel, I’m going to make some calls. I’ll
find someplace. Right now, I want you to go pack your stuff, at least everything you’ll need in the immediate future. We can grab the rest later. I’ll aim to be there within an hour. Okay?”
She could hear him breathing. Panting. He had to be scared.
“Joel?” she said gently.
“Yeah, I just— Rod and me, we were good. You know? And now I can see him looking at me and thinking I did this shit, but how can he?”
Eve’s answer was honest. “I don’t know. Right now, let’s focus on making sure you aren’t next door to Mr. Rowe even for another night. Then we can talk about everything else.”
“Okay,” he said, sounding subdued. “Should I tell them?”
“Is Rod home?”
“No— Yes. I think he just came in the door.”
“All right. Don’t get drawn into a shouting match. Just say, I didn’t do it, but Ms. Lawson thinks it’s better if I don’t live here anymore, so she’s coming to get me. Then go to your room.”
“I don’t have a suitcase.”
She bumped her head a couple of times on the steering wheel. “Grab some garbage bags. I was going to give you luggage for a high school graduation present, but I’ll buy some tomorrow.”
“Really?” Now he sounded as if he was going to cry.
“Really. It’ll be okay, Joel. I promise.”
He said another, shaky, “Okay” and was gone.
Her next call was to Ben.
“Eve? What’s up?”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I hate to bail on you last minute, but one of my kids has had a crisis and I need to deal with it.”
“Is it anything I can help with?” His voice had become a little huskier, as if he was worried about her.
Did he mean it? She ached to say, Yes, please, but knew better. This was her job, not his. Blurring those lines last time hadn’t gone well. Chances were the police had been called, but the responder would be a uniformed officer—probably Pruitt again—not a detective. This wasn’t the first time she’d dealt with a kid in crisis, and it wouldn’t be the last. Her kids had good reasons for being angry, and they did sometimes commit crimes. Joel was unusual in that she’d swear he wasn’t angry—and that he had nothing to do with this series of nasty crimes.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “But, no. I can deal with this. I just need to find a placement and move a kid.”
“All right,” he said. “We can aim for another night.”
Her gaze settled on the dashboard clock. “You’re probably already at the restaurant,” she realized.
“Yeah, I’ll get an order to go. It’ll beat whatever I have in my freezer.”
What if she asked him to come over later? But...she knew it wasn’t a good idea. He’d want to hear about what happened, and she’d get annoyed if he even hinted that Joel was responsible for everything that had happened. Even though...well, she couldn’t exactly blame him. Even she’d had to consider the possibility, and Ben didn’t know Joel.
Anyway, she could get through a night without seeing Ben.
They said goodbye, both quietly, as if... Eve didn’t know, and didn’t let herself think about it.
Her next call was to a favorite receiving home. Both husband and wife had a gift for handling troubled teenagers. When Tony Santos answered, she said, “I need a great big favor.”
“Not the first time you’ve asked for one,” he said with amusement. “And let me guess. You need a bed for a kid tonight.”
Eve laughed. “You know me too well.”
“Hah,” he said, the smile still in his voice. “I think it’s more the other way around.” He became abruptly serious. “You’re in luck. A kid was moved just a couple of days ago. We can take your boy, whoever he is.”
“Bless you.” Some of the tension left her. “Let me tell you what’s going on.”
* * *
LATE AFTERNOON THE next day, Ben happened to see Ed Pruitt in the parking lot. Ed detoured to meet Ben.
“Your friend tell you the latest about the Kekoa kid?”
Well, damn. Whatever it was, Ben understood why she hadn’t told him.
“No. She insists he’s a great kid.”
“The neighbor says otherwise. And this was ugly.” He described the gruesome scene and the elderly man’s horror. “I don’t like the combination,” Ed said more slowly. “Arson and animal torture. You know where that’s going.”
Ben knew. He felt a chill. Ed was right—pyromania, bed-wetting and animal torture comprised the classic triad, infamous for being in the background of too many serial killers. The bed-wetting was an unknown, but killing the cat could be seen as practice for what this perpetrator really wanted to do—kill a human being. And since every one of these incidents had been directed at Rowe...
Jesus, he thought. “Have you suggested to the old guy that he needs to be extra careful?”
“I did,” Ed said grimly. “I didn’t want to go too far in stirring him up, though. Rowe is a little wacko already. He has a handgun. I could see him being the kind to go after the kid.”
“Eve was going to move the boy, you know.”
“I didn’t.” He seemed to think it over. “That’s smart. Let them both cool off.”
“Which is fine if Joel’s the one who really did all this crap.”
Pruitt shook his head, his expression making plain his opinion. He said only, “Let’s hope for the best,” and went on his way.
Still on his way in, Ben called Eve and only got her voice mail. He’d hoped they might get together tonight. The fact he hadn’t heard from her made him uneasy.
Maybe a break was good, though. He’d cracked under pressure the other night and said things he hadn’t thought through. His own turnaround left him dizzy. Could he really be getting serious about Eve?
Yeah. He could. Without having seen it coming, he already was. And, damn, that had him rattled.
A little space to come to terms with how he felt about her and how he felt about Nicole might be smart. Funny how telling himself that didn’t help, though. He wanted to see Eve, be sure she hadn’t actually written him off after his jerk behavior. It was reassuring, in a way, to know last night’s crisis hadn’t been fictitious.
But, damn it, why hadn’t she called him or taken one of his calls?
Brooding, he nodded at the desk sergeant and keyed in the code to let himself through the heavy glass door that gave access to most of the sheriff’s department. Along with a couple of conference rooms, patrol and IT were ground floor, specialty units upstairs. Records and the lab had been consigned to the basement.
He took the stairs two at a time, strode down the hall and entered the detective bull pen, only to see the instantly recognizable back of a woman talking to Seth. Unfortunately, it was not Eve who had stopped by. It was her mother. He would have retreated, but it was too late.
Having seen him, Seth had a smirk on his face. Karen looked over her shoulder, her expression brightening.
“Ben! How nice. I was hoping you’d be here. I brought cookies.”
“That’s great,” he said, smiling. “Seth always shares.”
Originally, she’d brought the cookies weekly as one of her ways to put pressure on Seth to make sure he kept up the search to find her long-lost daughter. Seth had begun to quietly groan when the desk sergeant called up to let him know Karen Lawson was here to see him.
Since Hope’s appearance, Karen had kept the cookies coming out of gratitude.
Ben hadn’t minded at all. Her cookies were the best.
Now she beamed at him. “I brought some for you, too, this time.”
Seth’s smirk hadn’t let up at all.
Ben accepted the lidded plastic container from her and kissed her cheek. “Peanut butter. My favorite. Along with those g
inger-molasses ones.”
“I’ll make those next time,” she said, obviously pleased.
There was silence in the bull pen until she was gone, after which some good-natured mockery came their way from other detectives.
Seth told them they were just jealous, then peeled off the lid of his container and placed it by the coffee urn.
“I can’t tell her I hate peanut butter cookies,” he mumbled for Ben’s ears only.
“I kind of noticed, since you’ve been giving them to me.” He sank down into his desk chair, watching as every coworker in the room suddenly decided he needed a cup of coffee, and, gee, why not a couple of cookies.
“It was so nice you could have dinner with them,” Seth told him in as near a falsetto as he could get, dropping it as he continued, “She’s thrilled that Eve is dating you. She didn’t quite go so far as to say how wonderful it would be if she gained both of us as sons-in-law, but the implication was there.”
Ben winced.
Seth wasn’t smiling anymore. “You’d better watch yourself there.”
Ben clasped his hands behind his head, his chair squeaking as he leaned back. “Is that a threat?”
“Should it be?”
Ben let out an incredulous laugh. “You’re asking me my intentions?”
Seth’s face underwent some gyrations. “Yeah,” he said finally, sounding uncertain. “I guess I am. Kind of.”
“Keep it that way.”
The other detective frowned. “What way?”
“‘Kind of.’” Just like that, he leaned forward, crossing his forearms atop his desk blotter. He had a bad feeling he was baring his teeth. “What’s between Eve and me is none of your goddamn business.”
One side of Seth’s mouth lifted. “Hit a hot button, did I?”
Ben felt his jaw set and didn’t say anything.
Thank God his phone rang just then. His relief vied with nerves when he saw that Eve was the caller.
He rose to his feet and was already walking away from his desk and his buddy Seth as he answered. “Eve.” By the time he reached the hall, he was smiling. “Yeah, tonight’s good for me. I don’t mind doing Mexican again. Had burritos last night, I’ll make it fajitas tonight. Six? Sure.”
In Hope's Shadow Page 13
