Alex knelt beside her, thinking again how he had misjudged her. None of this was her doing. She was no more able to defend herself against the monster in her life than her boys.
“I wanted to go, too.” She pressed her face against the dirty linoleum.
So that’s what happened. The only way Durrant could get the boys away from her was to beat her senseless. Alex pulled her off the floor and settled her onto the couch. He returned to the kitchen to get a drink of water. At least the glasses in the cupboard were clean. She must’ve washed them before hell broke loose. He returned to her side with the water and two Advil from his pocket. “Here. Take these and drink this.”
Dazed, she obeyed.
He took the glass from her when she was done drinking, half afraid she might use it to hurt herself. He would have. “Stay here,” he commanded her again, but there was no need. She had retrieved the baby blanket by then, her face buried in its stained, yellow fabric.
Once more, he returned to the kitchen, pulling a couple fingerprint lift cards from his jacket pocket. In his line of work, he never knew when they would be needed. Then, as carefully as if they were Abby’s, he salvaged every tiny fingerprint smudge he could find. He scoured the lower refrigerator door and the legs of the cheap kitchen table. He hunted the two bedrooms, bathroom, and the living room for any trace the little boys had left behind on walls, windows, or doors. These were treasures, and Kelsey would want them some day. Satisfied he had gotten the best, he returned to the couch. She stared into space, the baby blanket carefully folded on her lap.
He pulled her gently off the couch, his arm around her too-thin waist for support. “You up for a visit to Virginia?”
At last, his words registered. She stopped dead in her tracks. “No.”
“You’re coming home with me,” he coaxed, his arm firmly directing her toward the door.
She balked. “No. I can’t.”
But he wasn’t leaving without her. “Yes. You can. Just for a week or so. Just til you’re stronger.”
“No. My boys are here and—” She crumpled to the floor. “I’m not leaving them.”
This was the first time he had heard sharpness in her voice, but it was also the first time Alex knew without a doubt how much he cared for her. “Your boys don’t want you sleeping on park benches.” He ran a thumb over her quivering lip. “Think about it. They’ll always love you no matter where you are.”
She sat rooted in indecision, her voice a whisper. “But I left them once. Look what happened.”
“You didn’t leave them, honey. They were stolen from you,” he whispered tenderly. Alex held out his hand. Nothing else needed to be said.
She looked up from her valley of death. With a whimper, she placed her hand in his. Alex pulled her into his arms, and shut the door to her hellish past. He placed her in the front seat of his rental car and fastened her seat belt. She cried halfway to the airport before she fell asleep, still clinging to Tommy’s baby blanket, and her head propped against the window.
Alex took her with him to Alexandria, Virginia. They rode first class under a starry sky, riding a westerly jet stream. The lights in the cabin were dimmed for the late night flight, and the attendants were extra kind and thoughtful. They brought a warm meal, probably Kelsey’s first in days, Alex suspected. He plied her with a sip of wine, but she refused, so he covered her with the airline blanket instead. She cried herself to sleep.
This may not have been the best decision, but one thing was sure.
He cared.
Twelve
Alex
Boring can be good.
Alex sighed as he pulled into his driveway. His home wasn’t much, just a one story, three-bedroom, older brick home set in an established neighborhood of Alexandria, Virginia. Modest by any standards, tall oaks lined the comfortable, winding street. Most of his neighbors had lived there all their lives. Dull and boring had served him well.
It wasn’t always that way. He and Sara had bought the house with the intent to move Abby into a nicer school and neighborhood, a family-friendly area where she could build a lifetime of friends. Alex didn’t want his little girl to live the life of a Navy brat, moved from port to port. He took it upon himself to be the one inconvenienced and did the traveling instead. His family was his only port, his safe harbor. Life had a different plan.
The home itself was built in the compact utilitarian style of the early 1940’s. It boasted a glassed-in foyer at the front entry with a built-in bench and coat closet, a place for winter boots and shoes beneath the bench. Amber glass French doors opened into a living room furnished with bookshelves, a dark leather overstuffed set, and an old-fashioned stone fireplace.
Gradually, it became a solitary man’s place to sleep, eat, and not much more. No pictures adorned the walls. The drapes were dark and drawn all the time. He had installed a gun safe in the bookshelf years ago. Eventually, he set up a woodworking shop in the basement, and at least once a year, he worked down there. The last thing he had built was a doghouse for two.
It was early morning by the time they arrived on the east coast. Kelsey sat dazed on the seat of his truck next to him. Within minutes, he moved her into one of his two spare bedrooms, made up the bed with clean sheets and blankets, and stored her meager belongings in the closet. He knew he had pushed her to make this decision, but he wasn’t going to second-guess himself now. The important thing was she would be safe. That’s what mattered.
“What do you think?” He stood quietly at the doorway to her new bedroom.
She was pale and exhausted, her eyes and cheeks dry for now. “It’s nice.”
“This is just a two-week vacation. That’s all. You say the word, and I’ll take you right back to Washington.”
He studied her apprehension, second-guessing despite himself. As much as he wanted to gather her in his arms and calm her fears, now was not the time.
“Make yourself at home. Bath towels are in the hall closet. There’s not much food in the house, so I’ll leave some money on the kitchen table if you need anything.”
“No. I couldn’t. I—” Brown eyes darted down the hall.
“There’s a neighborhood grocery store two blocks down the street. You get whatever you need. Mr. Shablonski owns the place. He’ll treat you real good. I might be home late so don’t wait up.”
“Okay.” She acquiesced quickly, but then she heard what he had really said. “You’re leaving?”
He heard the real question in her voice. You’re leaving me?
“Yes, ma’am. I’m going back to work. You get some rest. The dogs are in their kennel out back, so it’s not like you’re alone here. Just open the gate and let ’em inside. They would love to see you again. Their leashes are hanging next to the back door if you feel like a walk.”
She hugged herself like she was cold.
“I left my business card on the kitchen table. Call if you need anything.”
Alex stopped at his front door before he left. She still stood forlorn in the hall, looking into the bedroom, but not yet entering. He stifled the urge to pick her up and put her to bed like the lost soul she was.
“Will you be all right?” he asked tenderly.
“Yes,” she whispered without meeting his eyes.
It’s odd how the glow from a sixty-watt bulb at eleven PM can change the way a house looks. It made his plain little tract house look like a home. Alex unlocked the front door, hoping the noisy click of the deadbolt didn’t wake Kelsey. He needn’t have worried. She sat on the couch with a book, waiting for him. His nose twitched. The house smelled like—dinner?
“I didn’t expect you to still be up.” He dropped his briefcase next to the door and loosened his tie.
She looked up from the book in her hand with a worried glance. “It’s kind of late. Would you like something to eat?”
“Sure. What’s on the menu?”
“Lasagna?” She phrased her answer in a question. Was she afraid he wouldn’t approve of her
menu choice?
“Sounds good to me.” The instant he replied, she visibly relaxed, but that single reaction told him volumes about her past life, back in the days when she probably couldn’t do anything right.
He pulled the holster off his shoulder and stowed his weapon in the gun safe. By then, she had returned from the kitchen with a plate of lasagna, two slices of Parmesan toast, and several kalamata olives on the side.
“Don’t wait on me,” he protested, but she had already set the tray on the coffee table and turned back to the kitchen. “I mean it, Kelsey. I’m perfectly capable—”
He heard the refrigerator door close and the clink of a glass against a bottle.
“And I can get my own beer, too.”
She returned with a frosty glass over a bottle of beer, and a napkin with eating utensils rolled inside. He scowled. “You don’t have to do all this.”
“I know.” She sat back on the couch with her book. “I didn’t know what kind of beer you like so I looked in your garbage can. I also bought some coffee and creamer for tomorrow. I left the receipt on your table.”
He looked at the food spread on the coffee table as he opened the first two buttons of his dress shirt and sank into the easy chair. The kindness of her actions warmed him. “No one’s waited on me in years.”
“I’m just repaying you for everything you’ve done for me.” She paged through her book as if she had lost her place.
“How about I take you to dinner tomorrow night?”
Kelsey looked up, a shadow darkening her face. “I don’t think so. I mean, there’ll be leftovers, and you work late, and ….”
She seemed to be looking for excuses, so he dropped it. “Okay. Well, this is good. Thanks,” he said between mouthfuls. “I mean it. This is really good.”
“Food tastes better when someone else fixes it.” Her voice was quiet, not shy so much as uncertain, and maybe a little afraid.
He wiped his mouth with the napkin. “Did you already eat?”
She nodded, offering a tiny smile.
In that instant, he knew exactly why he had made such an outrageous decision to move a bereaved woman all the way across country. Even her half smile lit up his dingy little house.
“What did you do today?”
“Well, I slept most of the day, kinda like I did at your cabin,” she answered softly.
“Ha. Guess I have that affect on women.”
She ignored his teasing comment. “And then me and the dogs went for a walk. I stopped at the grocery store so I could fix dinner. You’re right. Mr. Shablonski is really nice. Do you want more?”
“Yes, but I’ll get—”
“No. You stay there. It’s easier for me to get up.”
Before he knew it, she was back with another serving of lasagna and toast, only this time she also brought a plate with two chocolate chip cookies. “I didn’t know if you like cookies, but I made some.”
“You shouldn’t have done this just for me,” he insisted.
“I didn’t. I made them for the people at your office. They’d like homemade cookies, wouldn’t they?”
Her question caught him by surprise. “Heck, I don’t know. I don’t take treats to the office.”
“Really?” She looked around like she didn’t know what to say next. “My kindergarten class always liked them.”
“I do feel like I work with kindergarteners some days.”
“I didn’t mean that.” She blushed at his inference. “It’s just that I needed something to do so I baked, and then I cooked. What did you do today?”
“Signed contracts. De-briefed agents. You know. The usual.” He finished the last mouthful of lasagna and leaned back into his chair with a satisfied sigh. “Thanks. That was real good.”
“Your work sounds important.” She watched attentively from the couch, her book long forgotten.
“I talked with your sister today.” He gathered his dishes as he studied her response.
She turned a beautiful shade of pink. “I need to call her.”
“It’s okay. I told her you were visiting a friend on the east coast. I think she was good with that explanation.” Alex deposited his dishes in the kitchen sink and stood with his hands braced against the front room doorway. “Now she knows where you are and that you’re okay.”
“Louise is a good sister.” Kelsey’s eyes dropped.
“And she’s worried about you. Anyway, I want you to consider this your home for as long as you decide to stay. Use the phone, drink the beer, eat the food, do whatever you want.” He sat at the edge of his easy chair again, his hands on his knees. “So what are you reading?”
She patted the book beside her. “Just something I found on your bookshelf. It looked interesting, but I can’t seem to focus enough to read it right now.”
Kelsey had a quiet sadness to her voice. She had done a lot more today than he did when he was dealing with his depression. That she wasn’t curled up in bed and crying her eyes out was surprise enough. The dinner and cookies told him this woman was tougher than he expected. There was still a side to her that he didn’t know.
“The books are leftover from my college days. I need to spring house clean one of these days and send them to the dump.”
“Don’t do that.” Kelsey’s eyes lit up when he said that. “I’d never throw a book out.”
“Salvation Army then?” He pushed the idea of discarding the books as far as he could, just to see another spark of enthusiasm on her face.
“How about if I just dust them?”
Her words made him smile. “You’re a bookworm.”
“By the looks of it, you used to be, too. You’ve got a lot of stuff on George Washington and Abraham Lincoln. Jefferson, too.”
“It’s been awhile.” He changed the subject again. “So how are you really doing? Are you going to be okay here?”
She blinked, her voice tight and sad. “I’m going to bed.”
He stood the minute she did. “Do you need any more blankets? Anything?”
“No.” She headed down the hall. “I’m fine.”
“Don’t leave.” The words came out before he knew what he had said. “I just got home. It’s nice talking with someone besides the people at the office.”
But she was already at her door by then, her eyes full of tears.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She nodded and closed her door behind her. Alex listened to the silence in the house. He wondered if he had pushed her too hard. She seemed just as lost here as she was in Washington. The only difference was she was safe now.
He hoped that mattered to her as much as it did to him.
Kelsey's Flashback
“But I don’t wanna.” Jackie took a stubborn, four-year old stance with two hands on his hips, his lip stuck out like a small ledge on his determined face. “‘I kin still see the sun. Look it.”
Kelsey took the same stance out of sheer enjoyment at his temper tantrum. He and two-year old Tommy had played all day in the warm May sunshine, but as tired as he was, Jackie was not ready to give up one second sooner than he had to. They needed to be in bed before Nick returned, so she cocked an ear for the rattle of the diesel at the curb. Satisfied he was still gone, she turned back to her son.
“Okay, little man. How about if we compromise?”
“I don’t wanna comp-a-mize.” He stomped his foot earnestly, his hands on his hips and as stern a stare as he could muster. “I wanna play.”
She loved it when he thought he was being tough. Her laugh lit up the dingy apartment. “Ha. You come here, mister. If you promise to go right to sleep when I say it’s bedtime, I’ll let you stay up a little longer. That’s what they call a compromise.”
“Oh. I get it.” His chocolate-colored eyes sparkled. “Wanna play camping? We kin build a tent. Tommy kin help.”
Tommy watched the high stakes bargaining from his corner of the broken down sofa. He was as calm as Jackie was energetic, and clearly ready for bed. He
could’ve passed for Jackie’s twin if he had been two years older. She smiled at her second baby boy who sucked his pacifier with a dreamy stare. She had tried to wean him off the pacifier, but he had doggedly resisted. Well, good. You can keep that plug as long as you need. Tomorrow everything changes.
“Mama.” Jackie’s stern face jolted her back to the moment. “I is talking to you.”
She laughed again. He looked so serious. “I hear you. What if we build a tent in the middle of your bed? We could use my sheet and make it extra big for your truck.”
“That’s a really good idea.”
Kelsey listened for the heavy sound of the diesel one more time. So far, so good. There should be enough time to play a little longer. “Okay then, let me change Tommy and get him into his pajamas—”
“Do we hafta go to sleep?” he asked with sudden suspicion.
“No, you don’t, but this way if Tommy goes to sleep, he’ll already be in bed. Does that sound like a good plan?”
“It’s a good comp-a … comp-a-mize.” His face filled with total satisfaction as he pronounced that terrifically big word.
She smoothed the cloth diaper on the couch as she changed Tommy. Even the silly diaper in her hand made her thoughtful tonight. Nick always used to complain about the expense of disposable diapers, so, to please him she had resorted to cloth. Only then, he had complained about the cost of detergent and utility bills. Well, tomorrow that would end.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow. She felt like singing. Almost.
The truth was there was no pleasing Nick. Period. When they had first married, she thought she could change him. Lately, he spent more time at his mother’s apartment than at home. He said it was because she had a television. That was Kelsey’s fault, too. If she hadn’t gotten pregnant, none of this would’ve happened. They wouldn’t have to live in a rundown apartment, they could afford a TV, and he would be happier.
Yeah, right. The truth was that Nick had never held a steady job in their four years of marriage, and he had never been a happy man. That was the real problem. Everything was her fault or someone else’s. Lately, his moods had grown darker and meaner, but the day he came home drunk and raised his hand against Jackie, she saw Nick for what he really was—a bully. There was no hope. He would never change. The blinders fell off her eyes.
Alex (In the Company of Snipers) Page 13
