by Kylie Brant
A cop’s experiences, hell, a lifetime of experiences had trained Gabe to recognize the subtle signals people gave off when they were straying from the truth. A tremor in the hands for some, eyes too fixed and bright for others. There were thousands of tell-tale signs, as individual as the people themselves. He wasn’t even sure what tipped him off that Tina Wilder wasn’t being completely forthcoming. Maybe it was her tone, just a trifle too polite, or her expression, just a little too impassive.
But then he looked into those big blue eyes of hers, eyes that could scramble the senses of a less wary man, and there he found his answer. Because behind her deliberately blank expression flickered an emotion much stronger. Even more intriguing.
Desperation.
Recognizing that emotion, he took his time drawing a card from his pocket. He handed it to her, watched carefully as she visibly tucked back her reluctance and reached for it. “In case you remember something later, ma’am. You can reach me at that number or leave a message if I’m not in. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
When she nodded, he added, “I’d like to speak to the boy before you leave.”
Her back stiffened, one vertebrae at a time. “He can’t help you, either. He was much too interested in the toys to observe anything else.”
He tried for a rueful tone, tough for his low timbre, to soothe the nerves he suspected she was hiding. “You’re probably right, but I have to be thorough.”
Her lips curved, and he mentally revised his earlier estimation. They weren’t too full. They weren’t too anything. They appeared to be…just right.
“I’ll get him.”
“Detective.” The clerk’s voice distracted him from her retreating form for a moment. “This gentleman thought he heard something earlier.”
Gabe looked in the direction of the man the clerk indicated and said, “I’ll be right with you, sir.” Sending another glance outside, he gave a silent curse and yanked the door open, ran to the curb.
The cab was already pulling away.
“You gotta give me an address sometime, lady. This is costing you a fortune.” The driver adjusted the mirror, his eyes meeting Meghan’s. She hesitated, then recited her address. Her real address, of course. Not that of the fictitious Tina Wilder, which she’d manufactured for the detective.
She took a deep breath to calm her jangled nerves. Was there some sort of law against giving a false identity to a police detective? She was certain there must be. But like it or not, she was the only one Danny had left to protect him. And although the idea of her newfound guardianship could still lace her with mind-numbing fear, she’d do whatever it took to give the boy the stability that her own childhood had lacked. The stability his mother had failed to provide for him.
“Aunt Meggie?” She looked at her nephew, forced a reassuring smile, one that faded as he continued. “You ’member that guy I told you about? The one in the alley?”
“Hey, I thought we were going to discuss your birthday.” It was a topic guaranteed to shift Danny’s attention.
“I’m going to have a real party, right? You promised.”
His reminder was unnecessary, since he forced her to repeat the assurance several times a day. “I promised.”
Once he was on this particular subject, Danny was extremely tenacious. “That means candles and cake. And friends. How many friends can I invite?”
Not for the first time since Danny had come to live with her, Meghan felt hopelessly out of her depth. “I’m not sure.”
“How about six? That’s fair, ’cuz I’m gonna be six.”
Sheer terror seized her for a moment at the thought of dealing with seven six-year-olds. She drew a deep breath and released it. “I guess.” His reasoning sounded logical enough. What did she know, after all, about what was “fair” when planning a birthday party for a child? What did she know about any child, and Danny in particular? The answers were depressingly obvious.
“Sweet!” He bounced up and down in his seat, testing the restraint of his seat belt. She’d successfully sidetracked his thoughts from the man he’d seen in the alley. And from the compelling detective who had questioned Meghan. She wished futilely that her own attention could be diverted as easily.
The sight of her apartment building had never been so welcome. Meghan punched her code into the security system, anxious to reach the privacy of her home. Her relief might be unfounded, but she would feel safe there from the shrewd gaze of the detective and from questions that she’d be better off avoiding.
“Aunt Meggie?”
“Hmm?” The door swung open, and she guided Danny into the foyer of the building.
“Why’d that taxi guy want your pants?”
Her gaze jerked to meet the boy’s puzzled one. “What?”
“The whole time in the taxi, he kept thinking he’d like to get in your pants. I don’t see why. They wouldn’t fit him, would they?”
A sheerly feminine response had her sending a fuming glance after the taxi, which was already driving away. Then reaction set in and closed like a fist around her throat. It took more effort than it should have to to keep her voice calm. “Remember what you’re learning about not walking around in other people’s heads?”
He looked down and scuffed one foot along the floor. “Yeah. But I didn’t walk right in. It was more like he left the door open. I couldn’t help seeing his thoughts when they were spilling out all over the place, could I?”
She studied the boy, little more than a baby really. The feeling of helplessness threatening to swamp her was all too familiar. Her sister, Sandra, had never mentioned Danny’s father, but the boy was blond like his mother, like Meghan herself. Perhaps he’d gotten his coloring from her sister. Certainly he’d inherited Sandra’s psychic ability. The same ability she’d alternately ignored or exploited all her life.
She pushed away the accompanying flash of guilt and kept her voice firm. “You have to try. No mind games, all right?”
He nodded, his head still bent. Telepathic would be the best description of the infant ability he’d inherited from his mother, but Sandra had always called it mind games, as if the mental raids she’d made into other people’s heads had been playful entertainment for all involved. As if her gift hadn’t turned their childhood into a war zone.
As if it hadn’t ended up getting Sandra killed.
When her doorbell sounded the next afternoon, Meghan glanced at the clock, faintly surprised by the hour. Her schedule had undergone major adjustments since Danny had come to live with her. The only time she had in her home studio were the hours he was at school. Every minute was precious, especially with a deadline looming for her next project. But it was almost time for Callie, who lived down the hall, to drop Danny off. She must be running a little early.
The bell rang again before Meghan reached the door and pulled it open. “Boy, you’re eager to get rid of him today. Don’t tell me he…” The rest of the words died in her throat as she found herself face-to-face with two men; one a stranger and the other all too familiar.
“This is Detective Madison, Miss Patterson.” Her gaze flying to Connally’s, Meghan knew she hadn’t imagined the slight inflection he’d given her name. The smile he gave her was humorless. “And I’m going to assume you remember my name, even though you had a little difficulty with your own yesterday.”
Her palms went damp, and she barely resisted an urge to wipe them on her loose-fitting shirt. The force of his presence struck her anew. His eyes were hard and inscrutable. They seemed to drill through her, effortlessly shredding all pretense, all subterfuge. Somehow she’d never imagined that Connally would bother to go to the trouble of finding her. Of finding Danny.
It was that thought that had tension gripping her muscles. Her chin angled up and she met his gaze. “Being a detective, you should have concluded that I gave you a false name yesterday because I wanted to avoid just this kind of harassment.”
“Being a detective,” Connally countered, “I
get kinda suspicious when people go to such lengths to avoid talking to me. We had to trace you through the cab company you used.”
Meghan set her lips, but remained silent. She wasn’t sure what kind of tack to take with the detective. Defiance didn’t seem to work. Nor had her phony compliance yesterday. He didn’t appear to be a man who gave up easily. In contrast to his partner’s lived-in face, with its homely charm, this man’s features could have been carved from granite. She was beginning to believe that he had a will to match.
Surreptitiously, she glanced at her watch. Danny would be home in minutes. It was imperative that she get rid of the detectives before then.
“I’m afraid I don’t have much time.” Even as she spoke, Connally seemed to loom closer, and she retreated in immediate, involuntary response. Then somehow the men were standing inside her doorway, although she’d had no intention of letting them in. She thought she caught a flash of satisfaction in Connally’s pale eyes before he closed the door behind him, and the sight of it stiffened her spine.
Her gaze swung to Detective Madison, who was speaking for the first time. “Sorry for the interruption. You didn’t answer your buzzer, but the super told us that he hadn’t seen you go out today. He let us in.”
With a firmer grip on her composure now, Meghan pasted a polite smile on her face. “I’m afraid Detective Connally has wasted your time. I already told him yesterday that I hadn’t seen anything while I was at the toy store.”
“It’s real important that we find the man we’re tracing, ma’am.” Madison’s voice had a placating quality that his partner’s lacked. “You left Favorite Things kind of suddenly last night. We just wanted to follow up to see if maybe you’d remembered something since then.”
“Mind telling us why you were in such a hurry to get away?” Connally’s gaze was directed above her head as he surveyed her apartment, before focusing once more on her.
She forced a casual shrug. “I’d arranged for the driver to come back for us. You know what it’s like to find a cab at that time of day.”
“That’s sure a fact, isn’t it?” Detective Madison’s tone was understanding. “Last week I tried to take my wife out for a nice dinner and we had a devil of a time getting a taxi back home. She said it would have been more relaxing to stay in and cook.”
His easy manner should have disarmed her. There was something comfortable about the man, like a rumpled set of clothes kept long after they’d gone out of style. His thinning sandy-colored hair was brushed back from a broad forehead, and his slightly rounded shoulders made him seem smaller than his partner, although they were probably both over six feet. But the friendliness in his voice, in his pale-gray eyes, didn’t eliminate her wariness. In her experience all cops wanted something. And some would go to deadly lengths to get it.
“Did you buy anything last night?” At the question she shifted her attention to observe Connally strolling around her living room. “It looked like an unusual place. I guess kids go nuts for that kind of thing.”
“No, I didn’t. And as I told you yesterday, I didn’t notice the man you were looking for while I was in the store, either. Sorry I can’t be of more help to you.” Although her words were meant to bring a close to the conversation, neither of the men made a move to leave.
“What about the boy?”
The words hung in the air like leaden crystals suspended from a chandelier. She didn’t answer; couldn’t. Protecting Danny was her job now. And the threat these two men posed was nauseating in its familiarity. She wouldn’t allow him to be used as his mother had been. She wouldn’t risk his life the way Sandra had so carelessly risked her own.
When silence stretched, Madison said, “Detective Connally said you had a small boy with you, Miss Patterson. Maybe he saw something.”
“My nephew was with me, yes. But he’s only five. He isn’t going to be of any help, either, I’m afraid.”
The two men exchanged a glance. “We’d still like to talk to him. Could you arrange that?” Connally’s words may have been couched as a request, but they were delivered in a voice accustomed to giving orders. And having them obeyed.
“No.” Her voice was flat. The detective wasn’t the only one who could be indomitable. “That won’t be—”
The doorbell rang then, interrupting her. Frustration surged. Just five more minutes. That’s all it would have taken to get rid of the men. The detectives were watching her expectantly. Mentally cursing the cosmic timing, she went to the door.
“Trying to pretend you aren’t home won’t save you.” Callie’s laughing words sounded above Danny’s exuberant greeting. “Remember, I have a…” Her sentence trailed off when she saw the two men with Meghan.
“Hi, Aunt Meggie. I gotta go!” With a five-year-old’s sense of urgency, Danny made a beeline for the bathroom.
“Ah…I’ll catch you later. We’re still on for tonight, right?” At Meghan’s nod, Callie placed a hand on her son Alex’s back to guide him toward their apartment. “Tell Danny I’ll see him later.” Meghan closed the door after them.
A compelling need to speak to Danny warred with an equally strong reluctance to leave the detectives alone in her living room, even for a few minutes. She didn’t trust them. The last few months had destroyed any unquestioning faith she might have once had in the police. And Connally, especially, saw too much.
She didn’t know which made her more uncomfortable—when his gaze raked over her home, her belongings, or when it fixed on her. Something about him caused a disconcerting awareness that was as unusual as it was unwelcome. Meghan flicked a glance at the two detectives. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I need to check on my nephew.”
Gabe watched her hurry down a hallway with a gait guaranteed to snag a man’s attention and hold it. It sure held his.
“You’re a card-carrying pervert, you know that?”
The words were pitched low. Gabe turned to his partner and lifted a brow. “What are you talking about?”
Cal made a sound of disgust. “You stared hard enough. Trying to get a complete description of her lingerie?”
“She’s not wearing any, at least not on top. And noticing that doesn’t make me a pervert.” He crossed a few steps to the coffee table, which had some books stacked neatly on it. He picked them up one at a time, reading the titles.
“What’s it make you then?”
“A typical red-blooded male.” He gestured toward the books. “Look at these.” Together the two men silently read the titles.
Your Extra Senses. Growing up Telepathic. Extra-Sensory Perception: Myth and Magic.
Cal lifted his gaze to Gabe’s and shrugged. “So she’s got an interest. You know, you should try reading more yourself. I’ve got a great book I’d like you to look at on homeopathic remedies for common ailments.”
Giving a snort, he set the books down again. “Fat chance.”
But Cal was nothing if not dogged. That quality of his was an advantage while working an investigation, but often a pain in the ass otherwise. “There’s a great chapter on ways to quit smoking that you might find helpful.”
Gabe threw him a dark look. “Thanks, buddy, but you’ve helped me in that area too much already.” It had been Cal who’d suggested that he wear a rubber band around his wrist, and snap himself anytime he thought about taking a smoke. Called it aversion therapy or some damn thing. Gabe had given it an enthusiastic try once and discovered that the resulting sting hadn’t appreciably lessened his desire for a cigarette. It had, however, given him a bone to pick with his partner. He was just waiting for the right time to pay the man back for his lousy advice.
Cal stiffened slightly, alerting Gabe that Meghan Patterson had reentered the room behind him. Not that he needed the warning. His instincts were excellent, and in her case they seemed to be unusually heightened. Turning, he found her standing with her nephew before her. Her hands were resting lightly on his shoulders, her stance protective. He wondered what it was she thought she was pro
tecting the boy from.
Cal smiled at the boy, going down on one knee before him. Gabe made no move to follow suit. His partner was the natural one to put the kid at ease. Children and dogs liked him. And although Gabe didn’t have anything against dogs, he’d be the first to admit that he didn’t know squat about kids.
“Hi, I’m Detective Madison.” He jerked a thumb in Gabe’s direction. “That’s Detective Connally. We want to ask you a couple of questions. Is that okay?”
The boy looked up at his aunt before giving an almost imperceptible nod.
Cal’s voice was reassuring. “This won’t take long. We just want you to tell us about your trip to the toy store last night.”
Danny’s words were hesitant. “I saw some dinosaurs. Electronic ones.”
Cal gave a long whistle. “Dinosaurs, huh? That sounds exciting. The clerk said you took them to the patio in the alley to try them out. How’d they work?”
In his enthusiasm the boy was more forthcoming. “They were cool. They can roar and fight and everything. Aunt Meggie said maybe I can get two for my birthday.”
Gabe entered the conversation. “While you were outside, did you hear anything, Danny? See anything?” The boy exchanged another look with his aunt. His answer was slow in coming.
“I…heard something. And then a man jumped out of the sky and ran to get in a car.”
A car. Gabe thought quickly. Having a car waiting suggested that Lenny had been planning a quick exit from his apartment. What could have had him running so scared? Scared enough to shoot at them first?
He waited with barely restrained impatience while Cal smoothly extracted bits of information from the boy. D’Brusco must have jumped over the railing of the fire escape at the landing. The car he’d run to was black, according to the kid. Yes, the boy agreed, with Cal’s coaching, the same color as the detective’s belt.
