She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the apartment. Or at least she tried. Walker stayed put.
“Your mom wouldn’t be comfortable having me in her house while she’s gone,” he said. She’d made that clear in her note.
Zoe continued to tug. “Mommy likes you. She cooks you dinner and she makes pie. Come see! Come see!”
Her hand is so small, he thought. She gripped him with a combination of determination and trust. He knew going inside was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out a way to explain the situation to a five-year-old. Especially one as determined as Zoe.
“Just for a minute,” he said, allowing her to drag him into the apartment.
Everything was as he remembered. The bright colors on the walls, the comfy, worn furniture, the library books scattered on the coffee table. The lingering scent of cooking was gone, replaced by musty disuse. The house had been closed up for nearly a week.
“Over here,” Zoe said, pulling him along to the simple worktable in the tiny alcove by the living room.
Next to a sewing machine were a tiny folded pair of jeans. Zoe let go of him long enough to hold them up for him to see. He looked closely.
A fabric butterfly had been sewn just above the knee on one side. There was a sewn trail leading down the leg to the hem. She turned the jeans over and there was another butterfly on one pocket.
“Look!” Zoe said, pointing to a small white T-shirt hanging on a hook. A matching butterfly decorated the bottom and one sleeve.
“Very nice,” he said, not sure what he was looking for.
“They’re so pretty.” Zoe’s voice was reverent. “I have all new clothes for school. Mommy made a lot of them, or she bought stuff at Wal-Mart. I even have new shoes. Want to see?”
“Sure.”
Zoe ran toward her bedroom. She returned seconds later with pink athletic shoes.
“Pretty,” he told her. “Just like you.”
She beamed. “I have a backpack, too. And pencils and paper. I’m learning to write my letters. I know most of ’em from Mommy helping me read, but now I’m writing them. And…” She paused to add the right drama to the announcement. “Mommy said we’re asking Santa for a computer for Christmas.”
He wondered how many hours of jewelry making and selling a computer would cost Elissa. She’d only just gotten a new rear tire to match the one he’d bought. He knew prices had come down, but she would have to save for months. It was already late August.
He knew buying one for her was out of the question. She’d already made it clear she didn’t want anything to do with him. She’d had a fit over a fifty-dollar tire. She’d kill him in his sleep if he bought her a computer.
But he wanted to. He wanted to step in and make her life easier. The money meant nothing to him.
“Are you a handsome prince?” Zoe asked.
Walker stared at her. “What?”
“There’s always a handsome prince,” she told him. “In the stories. I asked Mommy when we’re getting ours, but she says they’re not real.” She glanced around, then lowered her voice. “I think she’s wrong. I think they are real. You’re nice and you used to be a soldier. That’s almost a prince.”
Without meaning to, he could suddenly see through Zoe. Behind her were his men and behind them, a tank. He’d seen this before, the overlaid images, and he’d learned to ignore them until they went away.
The need to run nearly overwhelmed him. Damn, he had to stay away from this kid. Elissa was right to break things off. A prince? Him?
“I’m not a prince,” he said.
“I think maybe you’re selling yourself a little short.”
He turned and saw Mrs. Ford standing in the entrance to the kitchen.
“Hello, Walker,” she said.
“Ma’am. How are you feeling?”
She held up her left hand. There was a small bandage covering the cut. “Better than the last time you saw me.”
“Buffy and Angel work things out?”
She laughed. “They’re trying. Thank you for asking.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t mean to come in. Zoe wanted to show me her new clothes.”
Zoe nodded vigorously.
“I’m sure she did,” the older woman said. “You, of course, wouldn’t want to refuse her.”
He shrugged. “I know Elissa would have preferred…” He hesitated, not sure what to say in front of the kid.
“Things have gotten complicated,” Mrs. Ford said. “She told you?”
“She left me a note saying we were…” He looked at Zoe again. “I understand. She’s busy and has her own life.”
“Ah, so that was the explanation.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. “Meaning?”
“You’re a resourceful man, Walker. You figure it out.”
What? “Figure what out? Did something happen?”
“I don’t know.” Mrs. Ford touched Zoe’s head. “Why don’t you put your new shoes away, dear? You want them to be perfect for your first day of school.”
“Okay. Then do you want to have mac and cheese for lunch?”
“I would love that.”
Zoe took off down the hallway. Mrs. Ford turned back to him. “Elissa is scared. I’ve seen her worried, tired, concerned, but never afraid, and I don’t like it.”
He didn’t like it either.
“Who or what scared her?” Mrs. Ford asked. “She won’t tell me. But about a week ago, a stranger came calling. An older woman.” She paused. “I loathe that term, older. However, she was. A few years younger than me. Very beautifully dressed, and her car—it was lovely.”
Walker went cold, then he got mad. “Silver? A Jag?”
“I’m not familiar with car types, but yes, it was silver.” Her gaze narrowed. “You know her?”
“I have a good idea who she is.”
Zoe ran back into the living room. “I put them away.”
“Good for you,” Mrs. Ford said. She looked at Walker. “Can you fix this?”
“Absolutely.”
ELISSA PACED the length of her kitchen. The living room was bigger and therefore more satisfying in the pacing department, but Zoe was playing and Elissa didn’t want to upset her by appearing agitated.
Still, she couldn’t help wanting to scream her frustration. She’d only moved back that morning, taking a quick break between breakfast and lunch to move her stuff back from Mindy’s house. Zoe had been in the house less than five hours before she’d invited Walker in.
Her daughter had told her all about his visit. How he’d admired her new clothes and shoes and had told her she was pretty. Even if Elissa managed to inoculate herself against his casual charm, Zoe was falling hard and fast.
Under normal circumstances, that would have been enough reason for worry, but with the threat of job loss or eviction hanging over her head, the pressure was really on.
Mindy thought Elissa should come clean, just tell him what had happened and get his take on things. It was sound advice, rational even. But what if he didn’t believe her? Walker might claim a troubled relationship with his grandmother, but Gloria Buchanan was family. When push came to shove, Elissa knew who he would side with. He hadn’t known Elissa long enough to trust her. If Gloria denied everything, then Elissa was totally screwed and right now she didn’t need the pressure.
Still, she had to do something. While Mindy’s offer of moving in with her had been sweet, it was impossible. She, Elissa, could stay away from Walker, but how did she explain to her daughter not to talk to their nice neighbor anymore?
“I hate this,” Elissa muttered. “I hate all of it.” The fear, the uncertainty, the pressure of having other people control her life.
The phone rang. Elissa hesitated. Was it Walker? He’d already left a message saying he wanted to talk. What was she supposed to say to him? The truth? Some form of it? Nothing?
She chose to be cowardly and let the machine pick up. But a familiar “Hey, babe” had her lunging fo
r the receiver before Zoe heard any more of the caller’s message.
“Hello,” she gasped.
“Elissa. You’re there.”
She clutched the phone as tightly as she could and turned her back to the living room. “How did you get this number, Neil?”
He laughed. “I have my ways, babe. You know that. Long time, no talk. How’s it going?”
How was it going? Her life was a disaster. Hearing from him was the last thing she needed. “I don’t have any money.”
Neil sighed heavily. “You always say that, but you manage to find some anyway. The thing is, Elissa, this is different. I want to get clean.”
She rolled her eyes. How many times had she heard that before? “Good for you.”
“It’s for the music. I can’t write anymore. Not with this shit screwing up my head. So I’m going into rehab. I thought I’d come see you first, though.”
Fear clutched her chest and dug in sharp, heavy claws. “I don’t want to see you. Don’t come here.”
“You can’t stop me, babe. I don’t say that to threaten you, but because it’s true.”
Then why did it feel like a threat?
“How’s the kid?” he asked when she didn’t respond. “Don’t forget, she’s mine, too. I’ve been real good about letting you keep her, but that could all change, Elissa.”
She wanted to scream. When she’d found out she was pregnant, Neil had insisted she get an abortion. She’d refused, he’d beaten the crap out of her, then gone out to party. She’d escaped, taking only what she could carry.
“Stop calling, Neil,” she said quietly. “There’s no money and you’ll never get my child. No court would ever allow you to even see her. You’ve never cared and you don’t care now.”
She hung up, then quickly put the receiver on the table so he couldn’t call back.
They’d played this scenario out countless times before. Sometimes he made good on his threat and showed up in Seattle, and sometimes he didn’t. She never knew which it was going to be. All she knew for sure was that he would never get his hands on Zoe. She would do anything to protect her daughter. She would run. She would disappear. She would even kill Neil if she had to.
WALKER STRODE into his grandmother’s office. He’d always hated the white-on-white decor. Even as a child, he felt the place was cold and hungry. Like a giant white moth, waiting to swallow the unwary.
“Walker,” Gloria Buchanan said as she rose from behind her large gilded desk. “How lovely to see you. I was going to make an appointment for you to stop by and here you are, all on your own.”
She smiled welcomingly and held out her arms, as if expecting them to embrace. He kept his distance.
Her smile never wavered. “I wanted to talk about you joining the company. Now that you’ve finally realized you never belonged in the Marines, you can take your place here. There’s so much work to be done. Our most recent president quit. I don’t understand what it is about businessmen today. None of them have any staying power.” She sighed as she led the way to the sofas in the corner. “I’m getting older, Walker. I won’t be able to run things forever.”
He continued to stand in the center of the room. She perched on the edge of the sofa and raised her thin eyebrows.
“You’re not going to join me?”
“No,” he said flatly. “I’m not here to have a polite conversation.”
“If we’re going to talk about your future—”
“We’re not,” he said, interrupting. “I have no future here. I don’t give a damn about you or the restaurants. There’s nothing you can say or do to get me to work here for thirty seconds.”
She looked more bored than intimidated. “You’re being dramatic.”
He ignored that. “I’m not here because of my future. I’m here because of Elissa.”
Gloria didn’t pretend not to know what he was talking about. Instead she stood and glared at him. “I don’t know what that little bitch has been saying—”
“Nothing,” he said, cutting her off. “I haven’t spoken to her. I’m here to talk to you.”
He walked toward the sofa until he stood in front of his grandmother. “You’re going to tell me exactly what you said and how you threatened her. Every single word.”
He had to give the old bat points—she didn’t flinch. “I will not speak with you looming over me. I am not a new recruit, Walker. You can’t frighten me.”
Which was a shame, he thought. She could use a good shaking up.
He took a step back and folded his arms across his chest. “What did you say to her?”
Gloria sank back onto the sofa and leaned against the white cushions. Her pale yellow suit provided the only spot of color in the room.
“I agree that she’s pretty,” Gloria said. “In a common sort of way. I would have thought she’d look harder, what with her background.”
Walker knew his grandmother well enough to guess she’d gone digging into Elissa’s past. She knew so much about her grandchildren, he’d long ago decided that she had them followed. Which would explain how she found out about Elissa.
He didn’t bother telling Gloria that there wasn’t anything about his neighbor that could shock him. He’d been to war—what could Elissa have done to come close to his sins?
“She traveled with rock bands,” Gloria said with relish. “Apparently she slept with various men to get jobs, or just because. I wasn’t clear on that. Her child’s father is a known drug addict whom she supports.” She stood. “Her own parents have refused to have anything to do with her for years. Is that what you want? A drug-using groupie and her bastard daughter?”
He smiled. “That’s the best you could do? I expected a lot more. So she slept around when she was young? I know who she is now.”
“You see what you want to see. Do you have any idea what your money would do for her? How it would change her life?”
He did. The problem was Elissa wasn’t interested in handouts. He would bet she never had been.
“She’s a whore,” Gloria insisted. “You’ve never had to pay for a woman before, Walker. Why start now?”
He felt no anger, only coldness. If she’d been someone else, if she’d shown any human feeling, he might have pitied her. As it was, he could only walk away.
But first…
He shook his head. “You blew it, Gloria. I was never interested in Elissa. Not in any way that was a threat to you. But you’ve played your hand. You’ve gotten into her life and screwed around. Now I have to make it right. That means spending more time with her. You should have left well enough alone.”
She stiffened. “I forbid you to see that woman.”
“You think I care? You haven’t been able to order me around for a long time. You forget—you don’t scare me.”
“You will listen to me. You will…”
She opened her mouth and gave a small gasp. Her hand rose to her throat, then fell away. Without warning she dropped to the ground.
Walker was at her side in an instant. Even as he rolled her onto her back to check her breathing, he pressed his fingers against her neck to feel for a pulse.
There wasn’t one.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CAL AND PENNY WERE the last to arrive at the hospital. Cal kept pace with his very slow-moving wife. Walker eyed Penny’s belly and had a feeling that she was even bigger than the last time he’d seen her, which he hadn’t thought possible. Wasn’t there a point beyond which a woman’s stomach simply couldn’t expand?
Everyone embraced, then Cal helped Penny into one of the chairs in the waiting room.
“What happened?” he asked when she was settled.
“We were arguing and she collapsed,” Walker said flatly. He’d already told Reid and Dani the story. “There was nothing dramatic. No chest clutching. She gasped and fell. She wasn’t breathing, so I called 911, then started CPR. She was breathing on her own by the time the ambulance arrived. My guess is she had a heart attack.”
“Who knew she had a heart?” Dani muttered.
Walker wasn’t surprised that no one complained about her comment. Each of them had a complicated relationship with Gloria. On the one hand, she had done nothing to endear herself to her relatives. On the other, she was an old woman who might still die.
Penny reached for Walker’s hand. “Are you all right?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I’m not the one who passed out.”
“I know, but you were with her. I don’t want you to blame yourself for what happened. It could have been any one of us. We’ve all argued with her.”
“Countless times,” Cal added.
“I don’t feel guilty,” Walker said. “Just uncomfortable.” He hadn’t liked seeing her unconscious. He hadn’t liked doing CPR on her. “Our fight wasn’t heated enough to bring this on.”
“Good.” Penny squeezed his fingers, then released them. “I can almost feel sorry for her.”
Dani sprawled next to her on the sofa. “Why would you?”
“Because her entire family is gathered here and no one really loves her. We don’t wish her ill or want her to die, but no one is worried.”
“She brought it on herself,” Cal said. “She pushed each of us away, time after time.”
“I know. It’s just the duty card. I hate that.” She looked at her husband. “You really love me, right?”
Cal bent over and kissed Penny on the mouth. “You’re not allowed to doubt me.”
“I know and I don’t. Not really. It’s just all this and the hormones and my back hurts.”
Just then the doctor walked in. She was tall and thin, in her late forties. “The Buchanan clan?” she asked with a weary smile.
Cal stood and nodded. “That’s us. How is she?”
“The good news is your grandmother is very likely to have a full recovery. Your brother, the one who rode in with her…”
“That was me,” Walker said.
“Yes, of course. You were right. It was a heart attack. Not life threatening as such, but there was some damage. Still, with time, rest and medication, she should be able to resume something close to her normal life. However, there is a complication.”
Susan Mallery Bundle: The Buchanans Page 61
