by Style, Linda
“Shannon got busted for talking and sending me notes. Now her mom probably won’t let her walk home with me anymore.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. You’ll have to wait and see. But there’s no reason to be mad at your teacher. Shannon was at fault, and I think you know it.”
Cait chucked her backpack on the desk and dropped onto the bed. “Yeah. I guess, but I can still walk with her sister, Kayla.”
“We’ll see.” Laura sat next to her. “So, what else happened today?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Laura pulled back, giving Cait her I-don’t-believe-you look.
“Nothing much. But I saw the car. The black one at the park. It was by the school playground.”
Laura’s heart stopped. Her mouth went dry. But somehow she managed to push words past her lips. “Are you sure it was the same one? Lots of people have black cars.” Something she had to remind herself of.
“Uh-huh. But it wasn’t doing anything, it was just sitting there.”
“Did you see someone inside?”
Cait shook her head.
“Did you tell someone? Your teacher?” The schools were always on watch for anything unusual.
“No.”
What to do? Laura couldn’t think. Was someone stalking Caitlin or another child? Some deranged pervert waiting for an opportunity to present itself? “It’s okay, honey. I’ll call the school. I think the principal should know, and if you see the car again, you go right inside and tell someone. Okay?”
“Okay. But maybe it’s just one of the parents. Jenny says her mother watches everything she does. It’s so embarrassing.”
“Like me watching everything you do,” Laura said, and gave Cait a quick hug, hoping the child didn’t sense her panic. Cait was right. It could be another parent. It could be nothing. She didn’t want to scare Cait over nothing.
“Maybe not that much.”
“Does Jenny’s mom have a black car?”
“No, hers is white.”
“Okay. Well, this isn’t getting your homework done.” Laura stood. “Call me if you need any help.”
Cait rummaged in her backpack and took out some wrinkled papers. “I want to do it in the dining room like everyone else.”
More independence. “Okay. I don’t see anything wrong with it—if you get the work done and don’t pester everyone else. They have their own work to do.”
Cait did a “YES” fist pump as she hurried off. “Way cool!”
Not so much for her. Rubbing the gooseflesh on her arms, Laura walked across the hall to her room and immediately picked up the phone and called the school. She got the damned answering machine.
After leaving a message, she started to call the police, then hung up. She’d called the police before when a couple of the shelter residents had boyfriends stalking them…and the police never did anything. They needed proof someone was being threatened. She made another quick decision and pulled Detective St. James’s card from the drawer on the nightstand. Hands trembling, she punched in his number. She didn’t know if she was scared or angry. Probably both.
“St. James.”
“Detective St. James, this is Laura Gianni. Do you have a minute?”
“Sure. Has something happened?”
“I don’t know. I—I think someone might be stalking us.”
“Us? You and Cait? Someone at the shelter?”
“I don’t know who.”
“Do you think you’re in danger right now?”
“No. He’s gone.”
“Where are you?”
“At home. Victory House.”
“Well, stay put. I’ll be right over.”
He hung up before she had a chance to say anything else. Acid churned in her stomach as she replaced the phone. Walking quickly to the dining room, she felt better when she saw her daughter working hard at the same table as Alysa, Brandy and Dakota. The child wanted so much to be like other kids, wanted so much not to have her mother hovering over her all the time.
It wasn’t as if Laura didn’t understand how Cait felt. She understood only too well. Still, she had good reason to be watchful of her daughter. Very good reason.
***
Jordan scouted the few blocks around Victory House before he pulled into the driveway, and then he did a quick three-sixty of the grounds.
Laura opened the door just as he reached it.
“That was fast.”
“I wasn’t far away. Are you okay? Cait?”
“We’re fine. In fact Cait doesn’t know I was upset about anything. She doesn’t know I called you.”
Given she’d been trying to get rid of him ever since they’d met, he figured she’d have to be extra nervous about something before she’d call him. The worry in her eyes confirmed it.
“So, let’s call this a social visit.”
“Come in. I’ll make some coffee.”
They went into the kitchen, where Laura closed the thick oak door into the dining room and then scooped some Folgers into the pot. He shrugged off his leather jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. Sitting at the table, he waited while she set out some cups.
“Why don’t you tell me everything that’s happened. From the beginning.”
Laura leaned a hip against the counter and crossed her arms. “I don’t want to scare Cait or the girls. And maybe I overreacted. I probably shouldn’t have called.”
She kept her voice barely above a whisper, and if the look he saw in her eyes was any indication, she was one very scared lady. Every time he’d seen her he’d noted what a strong woman she was, but right now, she seemed vulnerable. He wished he could say something to make her feel better. “But you did call, and you had a reason. Why don’t you let me be the judge if you overreacted or not.”
The coffee stopped percolating, and when she reached for it, he saw her hands shake.
“Okay. You be the judge.” She poured them each a cup, then put a sugar bowl and a milk carton on the table. “No fancy stuff here.”
“Good, I don’t like fancy,” he said, and then dumped a spoonful of sugar into his cup. He waited for her to continue.
After a sip, she managed, “The car at the park the other day—Cait has seen it before. Outside here a few times and today she saw it at the school playground. At least she thinks it was the same car. I called the school and left a message.”
“Did you call the police?”
She gave him a strange look. “Yes. I called you.”
He noticed her gaze drifting over his jeans and sweater.
“You’re not on the clock, are you?”
“I’m always on the clock.”
“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to take you from anything.”
“Not a problem. But I’d like to know why you didn’t just call the local station so they could send someone out.”
She sighed. “We’ve had people hang around before, old boyfriends and…such. But the police never do anything, and the old boyfriends usually go away once they know it isn’t going to do them any good. But this feels different…and you saw the car before, too.”
“Can you think of a reason someone would want to harm any of you?”
She rubbed her hands together in her lap.
He sensed she had more to tell him, but nothing was forthcoming. “Anything you say is between you and me. I didn’t come here in any official capacity. I came because you called.”
She closed her eyes. Whatever it was weighed heavily on her.
Finally she blurted, “I’m worried Caitlin might be in danger.”
Right. She’d not be as worried about herself as she would be her daughter. “Not one of the girls?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Because of the car or something else?”
Instead of answering, she stood and looked out the window. “Because the car was here and at the school and the park. I think that’s enough for me to be worried.”
“If you call the
police, they’ll check out any known criminals in the area.”
“I know. But I don’t want everyone…the girls to know about it. I just want it to stop.”
She was afraid for her daughter, thought she was in danger, but she didn’t want to involve the police—except for him. It didn’t make sense. Unless she thought talking to the police would make things worse. He decided to take a stab at it. “I’ve got to notify local law enforcement. They’ll put a watch at the school. All anyone will know is that someone reported a car prowling the playground. No one will know you said anything.”
“No one? If you notify them, you’ll have to say where you got the information, and that stuff always gets out.”
“I’ll make sure it doesn’t,” he said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Though, he wasn’t sure how he’d pull it off since most police reports were public information. But looking at her, knowing how scared she was, he’d figure a way. Maybe call in a favor if he could.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “I appreciate whatever you can do.”
As she stood there under his touch, he felt a need to pull her closer, to physically comfort her. The contact and the invitation in her eyes made him suddenly aware of how long it had been since he’d felt this way with a woman.
And he sensed something had changed between them, that she’d lowered her protective barrier. Not much, but a little.
The door swung open and Caitlin came in. “I’m done, Mo—” Seeing him, the kid stopped in her tracks. Her eyes brightened. “I didn’t know anyone was here.”
Laura stepped back.
“Hello, Cait. I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by,” he said quickly, hoping the excuse would work so Laura didn’t have to lie to explain his presence. Already he knew that lying to her daughter would bother her. Other lies he wasn’t so sure about.
“I got a star on my papers today,” Cait announced.
Laura placed her hands on her hips and looked at her daughter. “You didn’t tell me, Caitlin.”
“But you know I always get stars. Jordan doesn’t know.”
“Oh,” Laura said, closing her mouth.
Just then Phoebe peered into the kitchen. “Sorry to interrupt the party, but it’s my day to start dinner.” She glanced at Jordan, her eyes big. To match her smile. “Do we have a dinner guest?”
Before Laura had a chance to say anything, Cait piped up, “Please, Mom, can Jordan stay for dinner? Please.”
He glanced at Laura.
Laura looked at Cait. “Uh…Jordan’s a busy man. I’m sure he has other plans.”
She was giving him an out—and he could tell by the way she shifted from one foot to the other, she really wanted him to take it. Sweet. “No. Except for a few phone calls, I have no other plans at all. I’d love to stay for dinner.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
WELL, THAT HADN’T GONE the way she thought it would. Laura watched Cait and Jordan from the window in her bedroom. After Jordan had made his phone calls, Cait immediately dragged him outside to show off her new scooter and Phoebe had shooed Laura out. They both knew too many women in the kitchen was a recipe for disaster.
Laura glanced at her image in the bureau mirror. Her unruly hair sprouted in all directions and her jeans and orange T-shirt were smudged with dirt after her efforts to shovel out a spot for a spring garden in the backyard. But Jordan hadn’t seemed to notice.
Laura felt a twinge of embarrassment. When he’d touched her, she’d jerked away like he’d made an inappropriate move or something. Stupid. He was a gentle, caring man. And he smelled good, too. She didn’t recognize the scent, but then why would she? It’d been nearly four years since she’d been so close to a man.
She took another look at herself. Cait would probably monopolize Jordan until dinner, so maybe she’d freshen up. Quickly, she turned on the shower, pulled the grungy T-shirt over her head and sloughed off her jeans.
As she stepped inside the stall, she heard Caitlin laughing. She didn’t know what had possessed Jordan to say yes to dinner, but she was glad he had.
Standing directly under the shower nozzle, she tipped her face into the fine, hard spray, reminding herself Jordan wasn’t really there for a social visit. She’d called him because she was scared.
But, oddly, she wasn’t so frightened anymore. Jordan exuded confidence and she, in turn, had confidence in his abilities. A male presence in the house had all kinds of effects on her psyche. She felt very much alive again.
Within ten minutes, she’d washed and toweled dry. She quickly blew dry her hair and then put on a clean pair of blue jeans and a green hoodie. She didn’t have much else in her wardrobe but jeans and Tshirts. For the first time in ages, she wished she had something more feminine. She dabbed on a bit of lip gloss and blush. That was about as dressed up as she got these days.
A knock on the door startled her. “Mom, are you going to come out? Dinner’s almost ready.”
Laura opened the door. “I was just coming.”
“Yum,” Cait said. “You smell good.”
“I took a shower.” She passed Cait in the doorway and headed for the kitchen.
“It doesn’t smell like soap. It smells like perfume.”
Oh, the honesty of kids. “Okay, I’m busted. Now, let’s see if we can help Phoebe in the kitchen or set the table or something. Where’s Det— Jordan?”
“He’s with Alysa and Claire.”
The apprehension she thought she’d stifled surfaced again. She didn’t think he’d question the girls, but she really didn’t know him and couldn’t be sure. “See if you can help with the table. I have to talk to Jordan for a minute.”
Cait grumbled something as she went into the kitchen.
Laura found Jordan in the sunroom with the two girls, their eyes wide in rapt attention and hanging on his every word. He had his back to her and neither girl looked up when Laura came in. She waited for Jordan to finish. At the end of his story, the girls laughed and Jordan turned, almost as if he knew she was there all along.
“Hey. You look great in green,” he said.
“Oh…thank you. I was dirty from working in the yard so I…cleaned up a bit.”
“Well, you clean up nice.”
Claire and Alysa giggled and Laura felt heat rise to her cheeks. She cleared her throat. “Can I get anyone something to drink?”
“We already got Mr. St. James something,” Alysa piped up.
Laura saw a glass of lemonade on the table next to Jordan. “Oh. Good.”
“He’s telling us stupid-crook stories,” Claire said. “It’s unbelievable how dumb some people are.”
“Call me Jordan,” he said to the girls. .“It works better over dinner.” Claire and Alysa giggled again.
Laura had wondered how her charges would take having a guest for dinner. A detective in particular. Some of her residents didn’t have a high opinion of the police. But she needn’t have worried.
“Tell her the one about the bank robber and the deposit slip,” Alysa prompted.
Laura sat next to Jordan on the love seat since the others had the chairs. “Please do. I’m all ears.”
An hour later, after they’d finished dinner and a fruit dessert, the girls shooed Laura and Jordan out of the kitchen, volunteering to clean the mess. Phoebe and Rose claimed they had work to do and even Cait went to her room to finish some homework.
On their way into the TV room, Jordan grinned at Laura and shrugged. “Was it something I said?”
Laura laughed. “It’s a thinly disguised plot to leave us alone.”
“Really?”
He stood next to her, near the old vinyl sectional. Neither made a move to sit.
Having dinner with Jordan had been delightful. He was an easy conversationalist, charming and surprisingly funny. He made everyone around him feel at ease, including her. When any of the girls spoke, he gave his full attention, as if she was the only person in the room. He made the teens feel important. She knew bec
ause she’d felt the same. “Yes. They’ve all been bugging me to get a social life for a while now.”
He arched an eyebrow. “And what do you think?”
“About what?”
“Do you think you need to get a social life?”
His eyes, the color of quicksilver, held hers…and her stomach fluttered like a schoolgirl’s. Without answering, she set her cup on the table and turned to sit. He stopped her with a hand on her arm. The teasing look in his eyes said he already knew the answer.
She moistened her suddenly dry lips. “Maybe. A little. But this isn’t the time.”
His playful expression faded. “Right.” He let her sit, then sat next to her. “I think you need to tell me what you’re afraid of.”
The warmth and concern in his voice compelled her, and right then, for a fraction of a second, she wanted more than anything to tell him everything. Wanted to relieve herself of the horrible secret hanging over her head like the sword of Damocles. Because as long as she kept the secret, she’d live with the fear of discovery. She’d never stop watching. Waiting. Never be free to have a relationship.
But protecting her daughter was more important than her comfort level or any social life she might want. She shrugged. “I was afraid Caitlin was in danger because of the car. That’s it. Really.”
His head bobbed. “I could help.”
When she didn’t answer, he added, “I’m asking as a friend. A concerned friend.”
A friend. Could he really be? If she told him, he’d have to report it. She knew that as well as she knew what DeMatta was capable of doing. And what kind of friends could they be then? She almost reached for his hand for reassurance, but thought better of it. “I’m truly grateful for everything you’ve done tonight, Jordan, but please don’t read anything more into it. It was the car. If he goes away, we’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.”
He frowned, clearly puzzled, then took her hand. “Okay.”
His touch was gentle, but she could tell he didn’t believe her. Not for a second. Well, whether he did or not didn’t matter. He was just going to have to accept it.
***
Driving home, Jordan returned a call to Luke on his cell phone. “What’s up?”
