by Anne Hope
Tess groaned. “I swear all I am is background noise to them. They have absolutely no trouble tuning me out.”
Rebecca bit back a grin. She wondered how long it would take before she became background noise.
“Are the kids with you?” Tess asked.
“Yes, they’re inside sleeping.”
“Wonderful. Jason and Amy will be pleased to hear that. They always have a great time together. When Pat suggested we spend a couple of weeks at the Cape, I wasn’t exactly sold on the idea. My husband loves to go fishing,” she explained. “With the old dinghy, he wouldn’t go too far. Since he bought the speedboat, he can be gone all day.” The neighbor didn’t attempt to hide her frustration.
“To be honest, I’m not much of a nature enthusiast myself,” she confessed. “I’m a city girl through and through. But now that you guys are here, I’m glad we came.”
Rebecca, too, was happy the kids would have some company. Perhaps this was exactly the distraction they needed. Jason and Amy seemed every bit as spirited as Noah and Kristen. They ran circles around the puppy, trying to catch him. Bolt wagged his tail and barked each time he gave them the slip.
“They’re going to drive your dog crazy,” Tess stated with a shake of her head.
“Don’t worry about it. He’s used to it. Will is always trying to ride him.”
The woman laughed wholeheartedly. “That explains why he’s a master at evasion.”
“He’s named after some super dog. Or, I should say, a dog that thinks he’s a super dog.”
“Not Bolt?”
“You’ve heard of him?”
Tess rolled her eyes. “My kids watch nothing else. They think it’s the greatest thing since SpongeBob.”
A loud splash cut the conversation short. Amy emerged from beneath the waves, giggling, her clothing drenched. Tess sprinted across the beach to gather her daughter. Rebecca couldn’t help but wonder if that level of speed came naturally as soon as a woman gave birth or if it was an acquired skill. If the latter were true, she’d be able to outrun Zach in no time.
“See you later,” Tess called as she hauled both her kids into the house to change and feed them.
Rebecca tossed a wave her way, then leaned over the porch railing. The morning was cool, but sunny enough to promise some heat in the afternoon. Cotton clouds wafted softly overhead, across a sky so blue it looked like a painting. Sparkling waves lapped across the pebbled sand, bubbling at the tips. Nature painted a beautiful canvas, perfect and peaceful.
Then the house came alive. Will’s cry tumbled out the open window, overriding the screech of gulls and ospreys.
“Shut up,” Noah and Kristen screamed simultaneously.
From the living room, Zach cursed.
Rebecca swallowed a mouthful of salty air and reluctantly crawled back into the house. It was time to start practicing her sprint.
Zach wasn’t sure he was happy to have company. It was nice to see the kids having fun, but he wasn’t feeling particularly sociable lately. Still, the neighbors kept his mind off Becca, so in a way it was a good thing. As long as Patrick Jenkins—Liam’s old college buddy and assistant district attorney, kept chatting up a storm—Zach wouldn’t be as inclined to notice the way Becca’s smile made her whole face glow. He wouldn’t dwell on the appealing way her swimsuit clung to her soft curves, especially when it was wet. He wouldn’t pay much heed to the smattering of freckles across her nose, which only grew more pronounced as her tan deepened.
Not with Patrick here beside him, droning on about his latest case as he flipped burgers on the grill. “The defendant insisted his girlfriend was his alibi, but one of my sources told me she was seen at some club with another guy that night. Blew the defense’s case right out of the water,” he stated proudly.
Zach plastered on a grin and nodded in approval because he figured that was what Patrick expected of him. It seemed to have the desired effect. Smiling like a frog that had just nabbed a juicy fly, the ADA performed another one of his fancy wrist flips and dropped a patty onto a bun, which he handed to Zach.
“Only fair that you should have first dibs,” he said.
“Since you have to endure Pat’s stories,” his wife finished, placing a large salad bowl on the teak garden table.
“Hey, people would pay good money to hear my stories. I should write a book.”
Tess released a chest-heaving sigh. “Here we go again.”
At Zach’s legs, Bolt sat drooling, his brown eyes two large saucers riveted on the meat patty. When Pat wasn’t looking, Zach tossed the dog a bite. Bolt licked his chops, then whimpered, begging for more.
“Time for lunch, kids,” Tess called.
A symphony of protests echoed from the beach, where all five children splashed under Becca’s supervision.
It took some effort, but eventually they succeeded in rounding everyone up and getting some food into them. Zach wondered who polished off the majority of the burgers, the kids or the dog.
One minute, Kristen’s plate was full. The next, there was nothing on it but crumbs. “Look,” she said, “I finished my booger.”
Everyone exploded with laughter. All except for Will, who was too busy shoving chunks of bread up his nose.
“It’s burger,” Noah snorted.
Kristen’s brows bunched into a frown. “That’s what I said.”
“No, it’s not. You said booger.”
“I said burger.”
“Booger.”
“Burger.”
“All right, kids,” Becca interjected before things got out of hand. “Why don’t you go play on the swings while we finish up?”
With a teeth-jarring victory cry, the four of them scattered, nearly tipping over their chairs as they made a beeline for the Jenkinses’ swing set. It didn’t take long for Noah and Kristen to start arguing again, this time over who would go first. The others rushed to join in. Zach muffled an oath.
Tess moaned. “Where do they get their energy?”
“From my burgers,” Pat gloated.
“What they ate of them,” she clarified. “I don’t think anyone enjoyed your burgers more than superdog over there.” She angled her head toward Bolt, who lay sprawled at Becca’s feet, too full even to wag his tail.
Pat feigned indignation. “That beagle knows a good thing when he smells it.”
A soft smile hung around the edges of Becca’s mouth as she listened to the exchange. She was a vision, all tanned skin and wild hair streaked with gold. Zach’s gut gave a swift kick. He could sit here for hours and just watch her.
She sensed his stare and turned his way. His heart dropped into his stomach as a slow languid heat reached through him. He’d forgotten how wonderful it was to be held captive by Becca’s cinnamon-flecked eyes.
“So how have you two been handling things?” Pat’s question jarred him back to reality. For a second he’d almost forgotten the neighbors were there.
“It’s been a challenge,” Becca answered. “The kids still haven’t come to terms with what happened to their parents. Noah especially. It breaks my heart to see them suffering like this.”
The peace was shattered like glass on stone. Heaviness settled over them.
“They’ll be all right,” Zach added. “They’re tough, all three of them.”
The Jenkinses didn’t look convinced.
“I can’t believe the bastard who shot them got away.” Pat’s jaw clenched. “If I had him in my courtroom, I’d make sure he got thirty to life. Too bad the State of Massachusetts doesn’t believe in the death penalty.”
“That wouldn’t bring Liam and Lindsay back,” his wife uttered.
“Maybe, but it would make me feel a hell of a lot better. Liam was the closest thing to a brother I had.” A shadow passed behind his eyes. “I kept meaning to call him,” he confessed. “Ask him to go out for a couple of beers or something. But I just didn’t get around to it. Never thought I’d run out of time. We think we got all the days in the world,
you know?”
Zach caught the pained look on Becca’s face and knew she understood, better than anyone.
“What’s done is done,” Zach pitched in. “Lindsay and Liam were aware of how people felt about them. They valued their friends and family and knew how much their friends and family valued them. Not everyone is as lucky.”
“Their luck ran out in the end, though, didn’t it?” Pat slumped in his chair, looking suddenly drained. “Now those kids are stuck paying the price.”
After lunch Rebecca offered to help Tess with the dishes. It only seemed appropriate, seeing as she and her husband had gone through the trouble of feeding them. Pat and Zach took over babysitting duty, and the women retreated inside the house. Pat and Tess’s summer home was similar to Zach’s, with the exception of a more flamboyant décor—from the pastel palette they obviously favored to the floral-print overstuffed couches and chairs. Colorful throws added even more color, as did the Oriental rug in the living room.
Figurines of all shapes and sizes lined the bookcase facing the stone hearth.
“They’re Pat’s,” Tess explained, noticing where Rebecca’s gaze had fallen. “He’s had them since he was a kid.”
“They’re pretty,” she said, although she couldn’t understand why a boy—or a grown man for that matter—would collect porcelain figures.
“They were his mother’s,” Tess said in response to Rebecca’s unvoiced query. “She gave them to him right before she took off. Pat was twelve at the time. It’s all he’d got left of her.”
Suddenly, she understood. She knew exactly how it felt to be a child left behind. She understood the isolation, the desperation to fit in, the yearning to hold on to anything that made you feel connected to something greater than yourself. For her, that had been Zach and his family and the children she wasn’t able to have. For Pat, it was these figurines.
“How long have you owned this place?” she asked Tess as they proceeded to the kitchen.
“Only two years. Liam let us know as soon as it was put on the market. Pat wasted no time picking it up.”
“You said Liam and Pat met at Harvard?”
“Yes, they were roommates.”
“It’s funny that our paths never crossed before now. Lindsay and I grew up together. I was married to Zach for eight years.”
“Pat took a job in New York right after he graduated. We only moved back to Boston three years ago.”
That explained it. During the last year of her marriage, Rebecca had lived in a bubble. She’d shied away from all family events or public gatherings, too lost in her disappointment and grief to find joy in anything. Happiness had become painful to watch.
“The first thing Pat did when he got here was reconnect with Liam,” Tess continued. “They never lost touch.”
She wished she could claim the same with Lindsay. Losing touch with her best friend was one of her greatest regrets.
They both unloaded the plates they held, and Tess hurried to fill the sink with suds. “Did I tell you Amy has taken a fancy to helping me with the dishes?”
Rebecca shook her head, dropped a handful of dirty utensils into the sink.
“The other day she left the faucet on. There were bubbles everywhere, counters, floor, even inside the toaster. I nearly blew a fuse. The kids thought it was Christmas in July, rolling around in the suds like it was a pile of snow.”
A whisper of a smile yanked at Rebecca’s lips. There was a time when she would have found some excuse to escape. Anything so as not to have to listen to Tess drone on about her kids with that note of possessiveness in her voice, that soft sigh of affection that somehow scraped away at the annoyance. She was pleased when the need to run didn’t assail her, thrilled that she found it in her to be amused.
For the first time in a long while, she thought, I’m going to be all right. What shocked her was that she actually believed it.
Between the two of them, they finished washing and drying the dishes in no time at all.
Rebecca busied herself putting the utensils away while Tess focused on the leftovers. She heard a clunk, turned to find Tess cursing while dabbing at her pink T-shirt with a napkin.
“Dropped the ketchup bottle,” Tess said sheepishly, then hurried to clean up the mess she’d made. “Better go change.” She blew out an exasperated sigh. “And rinse out this shirt before it stains.”
“I heard salt works wonders,” Rebecca offered.
“I’ve got about a gallon of Spray and Wash in the laundry room. Be right back.”
Deciding to pick up where Tess left off, Rebecca grabbed a few Tupperware containers and began placing them in the fridge. The house was still, peaceful, the silence broken only by the hum of the refrigerator and the occasional giggle or scream that trickled in from the open window.
The sudden sound of Pat’s voice coming from the living room startled her, and she nearly tipped over the orange juice. One more inch and she would have needed some of Tess’s Spray and Wash, too. “You know I’m vacationing with the family right now,” he said. “You promised to back off and give me some time to regroup.”
Obviously, he wasn’t talking to his wife or Zach, for that matter. Probably on his cell, she reasoned.
His footsteps thundered as he approached the kitchen. “I’ve done everything I can. I’ve been working with Interpol and the OSCE—” There was a long pause. “’Course I care about the kids. I got two of my own. But these sons of bitches are about as slippery as mud. The only witness we had turned up face down in the harbor.” Another pause. “I understand. I’ll do my best. But without another witness or some kind of lead, I’m just spinning my wheels.”
She heard his cellular slam shut right before he barreled into the kitchen. “That Dan’s got a brick up his ass. He expects me to crack this case wide open while he sits in his office sipping goddamn martinis and playing with his dick.”
Rebecca closed the refrigerator door, turned to look at Pat. His sunburned skin was flushed with anger. The moment he caught sight of her, his already ruddy complexion turned an even deeper shade of red. “Sorry, I thought you were Tess.”
“She went to change. I’m just finishing up here.”
Pat cleared his throat. Embarrassment had him staring at her feet. “About what I just said—”
“Don’t worry about it. I was married to Zach for eight years. I’m used to a swear word or two.” She smiled, hoping to defuse the situation and ease his discomfort.
Before the tension could escalate further, Kristen slunk in, her hands clenched in front of her, her eyes downcast. She crept up to Rebecca, tugged on her sarong and mumbled something.
“I didn’t hear you, sweetie.”
Rebecca leaned down so the girl could whisper in her ear. “I need to use the potty.”
“Sure. Come, I’ll take you.” She excused herself. Taking Kristen by the hand, she bolted from the kitchen and happily left Pat to his privacy.
Dusk came, slow and steady, with a streak of red so brilliant it set the sky on fire and turned the harbor a deep, shimmering rose. Rebecca watched the small waves from the window as she tucked Kristen into bed. She’d go for a late-night swim, she decided, get a few laps in before she called it a night. She didn’t have the benefit of a gym here, so she had to get her exercise any way she could.
Will was teething, so Zach was in the other room with him, trying to calm him. Once the baby settled, Zach would place him in his playpen, which was set up in Noah and Kristen’s room. Hopefully, Noah and Kristen would already be asleep by then. Though, judging by the way Noah sat in the armchair across the room playing with his Game Boy, she highly doubted it.
“Aren’t you coming to bed?” she asked.
“Not tired yet.”
“It’s late.”
“I’m nine,” he argued. “I can stay up later than my baby sister.”
“I’m not a baby,” Kristen tossed in, obviously offended. “If Noah can stay up, I can, too.”
Reb
ecca closed her eyes and sighed. “All I know is that you better be in bed when your uncle brings Will in, or there’ll be hell to pay.”
Noah ignored her. Kristen on the other hand sank into bed and pulled the sheet up to her chin. She looked troubled, pensive, as she had ever since she’d walked into the Jenkinses’ kitchen earlier today. Rebecca had been meaning to ask her what was wrong, but hadn’t known how to go about it. She wasn’t sure the girl felt comfortable enough to confide in her yet. But she had to try. “Did you have fun today?”
The girl gave a feeble nod. “I like playing with Jason and Amy.”
“So no one did anything to upset you? One of the kids, maybe—”
Kristen wagged her head.
“You’re sure?”
She nodded again.
Concern strained Rebecca’s brows, and she realized with a twinge of alarm she’d probably just given herself another wrinkle…and a few gray hairs to go along with it. She really wished she had some idea what she was doing. Wished she knew how to get Noah to make eye contact and Kristen to share her worries. But she didn’t. She was as lost as the thin wisp of a girl buried in the king-sized bed.
Defeated, she stood to leave.
“Aunt Becca,” Kristen called as Rebecca reached the door. “Am I going to disappear, like my mommy and daddy?”
Rebecca’s pulse gave a nice, swift kick. “Of course not. Where did you get an idea like that?”
Kristen shrugged. From across the room, Noah snorted. “Probably from one of her dumb baby shows.”
“I’m not a baby!”
“Noah, please.” Rebecca begged the boy to be quiet, not caring if she sounded pathetic. She returned to the girl’s bedside, reached out to grip her small hand. “You’re not going to disappear.”
Kristen bit her lower lip until it turned white. “But Amy’s dad said the children are disappearing because the angels are broken.”
Confusion streamed in to crowd out distress. “Pat? When?”
“I heard him when I went to use the potty. He was screaming in the phone.” The lip she stopped worrying trembled dangerously. “Is it true? Are the angels broken?”
