Vigilant

by Sara Davison

  “Becca. There’s no way you are going to be a horrible mother. You are one of the most loving, caring, fiercely protective people I know. And you had an amazing role model. You’ve totally got this. And Austin will be there for you, and so will I, as much as I can.” He nodded at her stomach. “This little one is going to be well taken care of, I promise.”

  Her shoulders relaxed. “I know. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. I mean it. And so you know, I’m praying for you and Austin, as you launch into this new adventure.”

  “Please do. We’ll need all the help we can get too.”

  The server appeared at their table again and set a plate with a BLT sandwich and fries in front of each of them. “Anything else I can get you?”

  Daniel shook his head. “I think we’re good for now, thanks.”

  She nodded and left.

  His sister picked up half of her sandwich. “I know you and Sharleen will catch this guy soon. And how great would that be?” She rubbed her stomach with her free hand. “In a way, you’ll be making the world a safer place for this little girl to come into.”

  Daniel almost choked on the bite he’d taken. “Girl?” He reached for his mug and gulped his coffee.

  Becca grinned. “Yep. We found out last week. I think that’s what’s made this all so real for me.”

  He set the mug on the table. “Becca, that’s amazing.”

  “I think so. And Austin does too.”

  “I’ll bet. She’ll have him wrapped around her little finger in no time.”

  Becca laughed. “I’m sure she will.” She reached for her glass and took a sip of water. “Now tell me about this woman.”

  Daniel let out an exasperated sigh. “Have you ever let go of anything in your life?”

  “Not when I know there’s something to hold on to.”

  He rubbed his hands together to brush off the toast crumbs. Why did he even bother to try and keep anything to himself? “All right. I did see someone, our server, actually, a couple of weeks ago at the diner Lou took me to after we did that safety talk at the school. I admit I kind of shocked myself with the strong reaction I had to her, but then she started talking to her boyfriend, or husband for all I know. And that was that.” Daniel dipped a few fries in ketchup and shoved them into his mouth.

  “Well, was it a boyfriend or a husband? There’s a big difference.”

  He took his time chewing and swallowing the fries. “I don’t know, and I’m not about to go back there and ask her, so you’re going to have to let this one go. There really is nothing to hold on to.”

  Becca contemplated him for a moment. “All right, fine. At least you opened your mind to the possibility, if only for a minute or two. That gives me hope.”

  “And buys me some time, right?” Daniel wiped his mouth and tossed the paper napkin on his plate.

  “I suppose. Sounds like you’re going to be too busy to think about anything but work for a while anyway.”

  “Yes, definitely.” Daniel nodded at the server as she set the bill and two peppermints on the table and walked away. “I’ll come see you and Dad when I can, but otherwise, if Sharleen and I are going to have any chance of solving this case, I will have to be completely focused. No thinking about women or dating or anything else but work until this investigation is wrapped up.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Nicole took her last bite of scrambled eggs and bacon and set down her fork. She usually went to church with Joe and Connie, but that morning she’d decided to join Gage and Holden at their small Baptist church not far from the diner. Afterwards, she’d invited the two of them back to her place for brunch.

  “That was great, Nicole. Thanks.” Holden grabbed her empty plate and slid it on top of his to carry into the kitchen. “Here, Gage. I’ll take yours too.”

  Gage’s eyes were on Nicole and he didn’t look up when his brother took his plate. “Thanks, Luke.”

  Nicole raised her eyebrows. “Who’s Luke?”

  Gage’s face paled. He didn’t answer her, just lifted his gaze to meet his brother’s. Holden stood for a few seconds, frozen, the plate Gage had handed him suspended above the table, then he cleared his throat and added the plate to the pile with a clatter. “You know what? I think I’m going to head out. I have an early meeting tomorrow that I need to prepare for.” He pushed through the kitchen door.

  Nicole watched Gage carefully, but he appeared fixated on folding his napkin carefully and precisely before setting it back on the table. The dishes Holden had carried into the kitchen thudded onto the counter before he came back out through the door.

  “Thanks again, Nicole.” He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek before punching Gage lightly on the shoulder. “I’ll call you later, bro.”

  Gage nodded and waited until the front door closed behind his brother before looking up.

  Nicole clasped her hands together in her lap. What was going on? She’d never seen such a strange look on his face.

  He drew in a shaky breath.

  “So?”

  “So what?”

  Her head tilted to one side. “Come on, Gage. What was that all about? You called your brother Luke. I would have thought it was a slip of the tongue, except you both got so weird all of a sudden. Who is Luke?”

  Gage let out a deep breath and pushed back his chair. He stood up and grabbed the back of it as though he needed the support. He reached for her. “Come here.”

  Nicole slid her hand into his and followed him across the room. Gage sat down on the brown leather couch, and she sank down beside him, still clutching his hand.

  “Okay, now you’re starting to freak me out,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “What’s the big deal?”

  His laugh sounded forced. “It’s not a big deal, actually. When Holden and I were kids, we used to play Star Wars. We were crazy about those movies and liked to pretend we were characters from the early ones.”

  The tension slowly leached from her body, like air from a tire. A smile played across her lips and he traced it with one finger. Her breath quickened and she pushed his hand away. “No distracting me. So Holden was Luke Skywalker. Who were you, Yoda?”

  Gage laughed, freely this time, as he dropped his hand into his lap. “No. If my little brother was going to be a Jedi in training, I had to one-up him, of course, and be a Jedi Master. Yoda wasn’t quite tall enough for me, and I couldn’t get into rearranging the order of my words in every sentence, so I was Obi Wan ‘Ben’ Kenobi. Holden called me Ben.”

  How crazy is that? “Wait here a second.” She let go of his hand and sprang up from the couch to head down the hall to her bedroom. After rummaging around on the shelf in her closet, she pulled down a shoebox and carried it out to the living room.

  “What’s that?”

  “I have to show you something.” Nicole sat on the couch and pulled the lid off the box. It was filled with photographs. “It’s in here somewhere, I’m sure. I saw it not that long ago.”

  Gage looked over her shoulder as she rifled through the pictures. Most of them were of her parents, some as old as twenty-five or thirty years. They’d looked so young back then. She paused with one in her hand. Her father was tall with a beard and neatly-trimmed, sandy-brown hair and green eyes. Her mother had short blonde hair and her head barely reached his shoulder. She knew they’d changed, but since it had been a while since she’d seen them, she really had no idea how they looked now. A twinge of sadness niggled through her.

  Gage nudged her shoulder with his. “Are those your parents?”

  She nodded and dropped it into the box. “Yes.”

  “Hey.”

  She stopped flipping through the photos and looked up at him.

  “Someday we’re going to have to talk about them, you know.”

  Nicole shrugged. “Maybe. Someday. There’s not much to say.” Her head lowered again, and she tugged at the corner of a photo, freeing it from the rest. “Here it is!” She held it up, triumphan
t.

  Gage tore his gaze from her face and looked down at the picture in her hand. A wide grin spread across his face. “I don’t believe it.”

  The photo was of an eight or nine-year-old Nicole, looking very much like Leia Organa, down to the flowing gown and long braids coiled on either side of her head. “I loved those movies. I watched them all the time. I wanted to be Leia so badly.” She looked up at him and smiled.

  Gage brushed his fingers across her cheek. “I guess that makes you Princess.”

  “That sounds about right.” A mischievous grin quirked the corners of her mouth before she dropped her gaze back to the photo. “I made my nanny do my hair like that every day for a year. She always tried to talk me into something else, but I only wanted to be Leia. I think because she was so beautiful, and so strong, even though she didn’t have any parents either.” She swallowed hard. A tear started to trickle down one cheek, but she brushed it away quickly.

  Gage caught her hand. “Don’t do that.”

  “Don’t do what?”

  “Don’t hide what you’re feeling from me. It’s okay to cry.”

  Nicole dropped the photo into the box and set it on the coffee table. She shifted to face him on the couch and rested a hand on his knee. “I’m not hiding anything from you, I promise. The thing is, I’ve shed so many tears over my parents, I can’t do it anymore.”

  “All right, as long as you know you can talk to me about anything.”

  “I do know that.” Nicole bit down on her thumbnail of her free hand as she studied him.

  “What?”

  “You and Holden must have played that game a lot.”

  “Why do you say that?” His leg muscles tightened beneath her hand.

  They’d tiptoed around the subject of their pasts ever since that night in the restaurant. Nicole rarely mentioned hers, and she had never asked Gage about his again. Clearly he was apprehensive about the idea that she might be reaching out tentative fingers to probe deep, likely still-gaping wounds. She searched his face. “Wow. I can actually feel you withdrawing. And see it in your eyes.”

  “See what?” His voice was strained.

  Was that panic? “Nothing, actually. I can’t read them at all. I don’t usually have to work too hard to see what you’re feeling, but now—”

  Gage stood up abruptly. “I’m thirsty. Do you want a drink?”

  “No thanks.”

  She got up too and followed him as he strode across the room and into the kitchen. When she walked into the room, he had pressed both palms hard against the counter and dropped his chin to his chest and was drawing in one deep breath after another.

  Nicole shoved back the panic that was beginning to grip her now. What is going on? She crossed over to the refrigerator. “What do you feel like? Cranberry juice? 7-Up?”

  “Got anything harder?” His laugh sounded strange, like a rusty gate squeaking open.

  Nicole peered around the fridge door at him. “Okay, now I’m really worried. You never drink. I’ve often wondered ...” She leaned back into the fridge and pulled out two cans of soda. After pushing the door shut with one foot, she set the cans down on the counter and opened a cupboard door.

  For a moment he didn’t ask, as if he was afraid that, if he did, he’d be forced to have the conversation he very clearly did not want to have.

  His shoulders sagged. “You’ve often wondered what?”

  Nicole popped the tab on one of the cans and poured the contents into a glass. The swirling bubbles rose to the surface and popped in the air. She handed him the glass and he took it, his fingers brushing against hers. Neither of them moved as their eyes met. “If maybe your father or mother drank. A lot.” She pulled her hand away and moved to the other side of the counter. What was she afraid of, that her words might spark a reaction she’d need to protect herself from? Gage would never hurt her. Would he? That thought had never crossed her mind, but she’d never seen him struggling with such angst either. The wildness in his eyes was new, and she pressed a hand to her stomach.

  Gage lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip before setting the glass down on the counter with a clink.

  Nicole watched him as she poured her own glass and sipped from it. “Do you want to sit down?”

  “I should go.”

  She closed her eyes for a few seconds. When she opened them, she sent him a pleading look. “Please don’t.”

  He held her gaze for a long moment. If she looked away, he’d win. He’d be free to walk away, and she would never be able to bring up the subject again. But they would both lose that way.

  She couldn’t look away.

  Finally, Gage nodded. She crossed the kitchen and held the door open for him. His feet appeared leaden as he dragged them across the thick beige living room carpet.

  Nicole set her glass on the coffee table and opened the door to the wood stove. She poked through the ashes and added wood pieces until a bright flame flickered through the glass when she closed the door. Then she tossed a couple of pillows onto the floor in front of the couch and sank down before the warm blaze.

  Gage set his glass down on the table beside hers and lowered himself to the carpet. In spite of the warmth flowing from the fire, he shivered.

  “Gage?” She spoke as gently as she could.

  A deep shudder moved through him, and she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. He pressed his face into her shoulder. After a moment, he drew in a quivering breath and sat up. “You’re right.”

  “About the drinking?”

  “Yes. It was my dad. He ...” His gaze dropped to his hands. “He did drink a lot. In fact, he got drunk pretty much every night. And when he did ...”

  Gage lifted his head. Her breath caught in her throat at the look of pain in his eyes. “He’d get violent. Hit us. Me and Holden and our mom.”

  Nicole let go of one hand and gently brushed the hair from his forehead. Her fingers ran lightly over a tiny scar at the hairline. “Is that how you got this?”

  He nodded. “I have a much bigger one on the back of my head.”

  Nicole winced.

  “How could he have done that?”

  “I don’t know,” she murmured.

  “I’ve been asking myself that for years. I mean, the thought of smacking defenceless little kids around like that …” Gage pulled his other hand from hers and pressed both palms against his forehead, his fingers gripping clumps of hair. “I see it all the time at work and it rips me apart. I want to grab those parents and shove them up against the wall and tell them to lay off their kids or I’ll …”

  “You’ll what?”

  “That’s the thing. More often than not there is nothing I can do, nothing that will stop them from hurting their kids over and over and over.” Gage clenched his fists, pounding them against his knees. “All I can do is stand there and watch them walk out of the courtroom, heading home to take out their frustrations on the little ones they’re supposed to be protecting.”

  Nicole was silent for a few seconds then she covered one fist with her fingers, waiting until he unclenched it and turned his hand over to grip hers. “How did you ever find God in all that mess?”

  His shoulders relaxed. “Actually, that’s the one thing my dad did do for us. He forced my mom to take Holden and me to church every week so the house would be quiet and he could sleep off the night before. We had to pretend for years that we hated it so he’d let us keep going, when really it was the lifeline we all clung to just to survive.”

  “What happened? Did Children’s Aid finally take you out of there?”

  Gage swallowed hard. “No. They came to the house sometimes. I think they wanted to take us. But my mom, she’d tell them we had fallen, that we were clumsy and hurt ourselves all the time. She always protected him for some reason. Although, so did Holden and I. When they asked us, we made up stories about how we had gotten our cuts and bruises.” His voice broke. “I should have told them, Nic. If I had, I could have protec
ted Holden, could have gotten him out of there before ...”

  “Before what?”

  “Before the night my dad came home and punched my mother so hard she hit her head on the kitchen counter and died.”

  “Oh Gage.” His eyes had filled with tears and she wiped away one that had started down his cheek with her finger. “Why did you say you should have gotten Holden out? Did your dad hurt him that night too?”

  Gage shook his head. “You’re a real sucker for punishment, you know that?” They both laughed, shakily. “Do you really want to hear the rest?”

  “Want to? No. But I need to. I need to know what happened to you.”

  “Fine. But remember, you asked for this.” He drew in a deep breath. “After my dad hit my mom, he came upstairs looking for us.”

  She stroked the backs of his hands with her thumbs, trying to draw out some of the horror of the memory. “Holden and I ... we’d been in our make-believe Star Wars world again. And you’re right, we were there often. It was so much better than our real world. We were strong there, and brave, like real heroes. Not that it helped us any when he came after us, but it helped to pretend. And it helped to escape, even if it was only for a little while.” His eyes searched hers. Nicole nodded encouragement.

  “We were in the closet, hiding. But he found us, of course. He always found us. And he grabbed my arm and pulled me out. He was worse that night than I’d ever seen him. I think he wanted to kill us, that he came home meaning to.” The words came out in a rush, as though he had to finish, had to get out everything before he couldn’t go on anymore. “All I could think about was my mother, downstairs, and Holden, and that I had to save them. I had to stop him, somehow.”

  Gage shook so hard that his teeth chattered. Nicole moved her hand to his back and rubbed up and down in a desperate attempt to ward off the cold that seemed to be freezing him from the inside out. “Then he punched me. Hard. I fell backward and my head slammed against the footboard of the bed.”