“At your service. All except the threat to hurl. I NEVER want to see this child hurl again. Once is more than enough. But it worked, didn’t it?” He put a hand up to his still blue hair. “Like a science fair project on dealing with children. They finally got to see what children are like. It’ll take them a while to understand what you need at the clinic, but it’s a start. Any thoughts of fancy ceramic statues have already been erased from their minds.”
“But don’t they know this? They’ve all raised children.” Connie shook her head asked quizzically.
“How do I explain this?” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “They live a different way. Yes, they had children. But they didn’t have front row seats. They had house staff and nannies to deal with the hurling and the cotton candy. They never really experienced their children up close and personal.”
“But didn’t you come to the zoo as a kid?”
“Yes, I did. With Mrs. Duran, our cook. We went once a year, every year. We liked the giraffes the best.” He gazed off into the distance.
Cindy’s heart was full, and deep within, there was an ache—as if she could feel his childhood sadness. “Well, here we are, folks,” she said with enthusiasm. “Let’s go see some animals. And let’s start with the giraffes. I hear they are spectacular.”
His gaze met hers, and he smiled. “Race ya,” he shouted. And off they went.
“Let me tell you, Cinderella,” puffed Connie, next to her, after they had only sprinted a few feet, “If you don’t hurry up and grab that guy, I’m going to. I feel like I’m in a freaking fairy tale!”
They explored. Giraffes, elephants, kangaroos.
“Look at that tiger!” With an awe-like reverence, Morgan barely spoke above a whisper as they followed the path through the big cat section. Standing close to the glass, his gaze took in every detail as the agile, muscular beast paced in front of him.
The cat turned his fierce-looking head occasionally to stare out at Morgan. He opened his mouth and made a rasping growl, exposing an impressive row of sharp white teeth.
“Whew!” Morgan whispered. “That’s one giant cat. I’ll bet he can run really fast.”
“He looks like he’s mad,” said Jasmine, wrinkling her nose.
“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” called Hannah. “Nice kitty.”
Connie laughed, and grabbed her hand. “Come on, Hanna-banana. That kitty looks like he wants lunch.”
They sauntered through the tree lined paths of the zoo, studying the bears, a hippopotamus. The kids skipped and danced and giggled all the way.
The adults followed them, and Cindy snuck a peek at Prince as he took in each display. While he didn’t exactly skip and giggle, she had no trouble seeing he was having as much fun as the kids.
At the children’s zoo, they petted everything willing to stand still, ending up at the pony rides. Jasmine chose a little black pony, and Hannah climbed atop a white one as wide as he was tall. Cindy and Connie walked alongside them, with the reins held by teen volunteers. Cindy turned back to see Morgan, who was in line with Prince.
Morgan was obviously not happy. She was shocked to see him shake his head unhappily as the next pony approached.
“I don’t want to get on. I don’t want to ride. I don’t know how.”
Cindy’s instincts flared. Halfway around the ring with Hannah, her instinct was to return to Morgan, who stood with his sturdy little arms firmly folded defiantly across his chest, his feet planted in the dirt beside the ring. Despite his determined stance, Cindy could see the tears building in his eyes. What should she do? She hadn’t expected this.
Prince caught her gaze, raised a hand, and waved. We’re okay here. We’ll figure it out.
With a lung-filling breath, she kept her focus on Hannah, who gurgled with delight, walking beside her and keeping her from pulling the poor pony’s mane right out of his neck with her entangled fingers.
As they rounded the ring and headed back to the gate, she saw Prince, squatting beside Morgan, looking into his eyes, and making some kind of wild gestures. While still holding up the line, Morgan looked like he was ready to laugh, instead of ready to cry. Progress, not perfection.
And then the discourse ended. The little guy unfolded his arms, sucked in a big breath of air, and climbed up on the patient pony with a single leap.
Prince clapped him on his back, and proudly walked beside him.
“Look, look, I’m riding,” Morgan called, as if it had been his idea all along.
Smiling back, she heard a smattering of applause from the waiting line.
“Good job, Dad,” called one waiting parent. “Way to go!”
The assumption was a normal one, after Prince’s Dad-like supportive behavior. But the comment couldn’t have hit her harder if it had been a freight train coming at her full force. Dad?
The label implied a level of caring from him foreign to her. And, she was sure, the experience was foreign to Princeton Highfield. She had experienced so many men who didn’t want the role of “dad” to their own children, let alone someone else’s.
His back was toward her as he walked alongside Morgan and his pony, as Hannah and Jasmine finished their ride and climbed off with protest. Cindy couldn’t see his face. She couldn’t see his reaction. But she could imagine his feelings. Princeton Highfield, society playboy, being called Dad at the zoo.
“Isn’t that a scream? How funny is that?” began Connie, until she saw her friend’s horrified face. “Chill out, paranoid lady. He’s doing just fine. For a man who didn’t know which end was up on a kid a few weeks ago, he’s come a long way.”
“A long way? Toward what?” Cindy stammered. “Being their dad? He’s Prince Highfield. He drives an Aston Martin, for heaven’s sake.”
“Well, today he drove a minivan. Did you forget that? Just because he drives an Aston Martin doesn’t mean he’s a lifelong James Bond.” She flipped a hand in the air. “You drive a Harley Davidson motorcycle, right? Does that make you one of the Hell’s Angels?”
Cindy swallowed hard. She had willingly and absolutely taken on the responsibility and commitment to raise her niece and nephew alone, after her sister’s death. And she would have it no other way. But she was well aware of the challenge it presented. It was not, definitely, something she could imagine in Prince’s plans.
At this moment, she was also well aware of how good having a person, a partner, at her side felt. She thought of him holding a sick Hannah, of him taking over the children’s story hour, and then listening intently as Morgan told him about his stitches. She thought of him bobbing through the zoo with Hannah dropping blobs of blue cotton candy on his head, and convincing Morgan to face his pony ride.
Prince had been there. The realization brought first a feeling of warmth, and then a feeling of panic. She didn’t need him. She wouldn’t. She must, as she always had, depend on her own strengths and abilities. Depending on someone like Prince, or any man, was the path to disappointment. Cindy had seen that her whole life. That went for her own heart, but even more importantly for the children. The more attached they became, the more loss there would be when Prince was gone. These kids had lost enough in their short lives.
And the truth was, she enjoyed having him around too much. She too, didn’t want the pain of loss when he would inevitably be gone. The memory of George raced through her mind.
She would set things straight.
The sun was dipping down into the sky as they finished at the children’s zoo and began the last leg of their trip, heading back toward the car. Exhausted by the adventurous day, all three kids were already asleep in their car seats as soon as they left the parking lot. Connie, too, closed her eyes and drifted away.
In the peaceful silence of the minivan as they made their way north, Cindy leaned her head against the window, watching the sky turn pink, then orange as the minutes went by. Her thoughts, however, were far from peaceful. Fear, desire, and good old common sense were waging a war inside her head. No telling wh
ich would win.
****
When they turned into Lark Street, lights flashed everywhere. The red and blue strobes of police cars reflected off Cindy’s front door, and men in uniform stood around, keeping neighbors calm, and directing traffic slowly around the parked cruisers.
Cindy launched out of the van before it even stopped, darting to the closest officer. “What happened? This is my house! Please, tell me what happened!”
“Over there,” said the patrolman, pointing to a rugged looking man in a rumpled grey suit who stood by her door. “Detective Clark is in charge. Go see him. He’s been looking for you.”
Her breath wheezed in and out automatically, her feelings frozen, her feet moving as if in a dream. “I’m Cindy Castle, this is my house. What happened?”
Behind her, she felt Prince’s presence as he arrived. After slamming the car into a parking spot, he hadn’t lost a second.
“Got a call about someone trying to break in. We got him.” The haggard detective motioned to one of the cruisers, and then pulled out a thin notebook from his coat pocket. “I got some questions.”
Cindy stared at the police car, illuminated by the flashing light. The effect was like a strobe light, eerily exposing the male face in the car window.
Her eyes opened wide, and she swallowed hard. She knew that face. “I’ve seen him hanging around,” she croaked out. “On the street, several times. And he talked to my friend in the laundromat.”
The suspect was Connie’s tall, dark, and handsome stranger. Might as well add dangerous to the list.
“We’ll need to talk to her. He’s clammed up good. Do you know what this is about?” He looked down at a battered notebook and then back up. “Second call here, I hear. You had a break in before?”
She nodded then watched him write busily in his notebook.
“That’s why you had someone watching over the place? The PI who called it in?”
Cindy was puzzled. “What PI?”
A throat cleared behind her. “He was my guy, Detective. I hired him.” Prince reached around Cindy and held out his hand. “Princeton Highfield.”
Cindy turned to look at him and blinked. You hired him?
Prince didn’t look at her. He kept his gaze on the detective. “You got him in the act?”
“Yessiree. Had just jimmied the door. And we got here just in time.” The detective nodded. “He was carrying a gallon of kerosene, and a bag containing bunch of flame starters. No doubt he was going to torch the place. Good thing the family wasn’t home.”
Her mouth went dry. Ashes. She could have come home to ashes. And if they had been home, even worse. Her knees, which had been holding her up just fine until that vision of flame and ash flashed through her mind, began to shake.
A strong arm cupped her elbow from behind. Her feet were grounded again, but the rest of her spun with confusion. Although grateful for the strength flowing into her from Prince’s touch and support, her feelings were in turmoil. Though she was furious at his audacity, hiring protection for them without consulting her, she was grateful to the tips of her unsteady toes he had done so. She was furious at the handcuffed stranger who had violated their simple life, making it all necessary.
And why?
“We’ll be running him through the system, Ms. Castle.” The detective put his hands on his hips. “When we figure out who he is and what he’s been up to, we might get a better picture on what’s going on. I’ll be in touch with you to get more information.”
Cindy reported again, about her knowledge of Jimmy’s past, and gave him her contact information.
“Do you think it’s safe to go in?” A little headache throbbed behind her eyes.
“Yes, I think it’s over for now. You can go in. We’ll keep up our increased watch on the neighborhood, in case he wasn’t working alone, but I’d keep that PI on the job for now.” Detective Clark’s voice was firm.
Prince nodded. “For sure. Until we get to the bottom of this.”
Connie and the kids had been waved to approach, and Connie had described her interactions with the intruder to the detective.
And then lights stopped flashing, police cars pulling away one by one. Bystanders drifted quietly back to their own doors. The street was calm and normal again.
“Last time I even dream of picking up a guy in the laundromat again,” rued Connie. “No surprise, he was too good looking to be true.”
The remark would have been funny if any of them had a laugh left in them. They didn’t.
Connie sighed. “I’m heading home.” She picked up Jasmine, who was so tired she was wobbling. “Today was great, you know. All except that attempted arson, murderous intent thing. I’m glad that’s over.”
Cindy reached over without words, and gave her friend a hug. She placed a soft kiss on Jasmine’s sleeping head as she lay on her mom’s shoulder. They headed down the block toward home.
Would it ever really be over?
They climbed the steps and went inside. Sadness permeated her bones.
Chapter Seventeen
Prince would have preferred to stay, but he didn’t argue. He drove the minivan carefully down the boulevard, mindful of his strong emotions. Well aware of the temptation to push the pedal to the metal and release some of his anger and frustration, he resisted. A speeding ticket, or a fender bender with Ernie’s well-loved minivan wasn’t going to make matters better. The mature thought surprised him and made him smile just a little. Where had this sudden good judgment come from?
Cindy had looked full of fear, and still proud, as she sent him away. She was furious at his decision to hire security to guard her house, and she wasted no time in telling him so, as soon as the kids were tucked in. Man, that woman could state her case. He smiled again.
He’d half apologized, at least for the part about keeping her out of the loop. And then he told her he’d do it again if necessary. He’d do whatever it took. Case closed.
He wouldn’t forget what happened next.
Cindy had narrowed her eyes, staring. Then her stern and offended look melted away, her eyes widened and looked like they were going to spill tears like a waterfall, and she had launched herself into his arms.
Usually he hated it when a woman cried. But not this time. Prince wrapped his arms around her, folding her in like a bear protecting its cub. She cried. He stroked her hair, and then kissed the top of her head. “It’ll be okay. It’s all going to be okay.”
“Thank you,” Cindy mumbled through the sobs. “Thank you for hiring that guy. I can’t believe you hired that guy. The kids, they could have been hurt. This house, it could have gone up in smoke.”
“But it didn’t.” A pang went through him at the horrible thought. “We will find the answers, Cindy, so this will end. Starting tomorrow. But tonight, you’re safe, and you need to sleep.”
She crossed to the window and peeked out.
“He’s out there? The security guy is still out there?” She searched in the darkness, but couldn’t see anything.
“Always. Most of the time, he’s in a car, a few doors away. Then he goes and checks down the alley and around back. He’s there until midnight.”
Cindy looked at him, her eyes opened wide.
“Until his partner comes,” he went on. “There are two of them. Twelve hour shifts. Someone’s always here.”
She sighed. “This must cost a bundle.”
Prince laughed. “No better use for a bundle.”
He’d left her then, to get the car back to Ernie, and to make his plans for the next day. He was glad the secret about the security team was cleared up. He didn’t like keeping things from her. Most of all, he was glad she accepted his help. Even with the criminal in custody, he still worried. Until they knew the motives for the break-ins and vandalism, he would fear for their safety.
He had extracted a promise from her. So far, with her strong belief they lived in “different worlds,” she avoided any contact with his “Highfield” life. But
tomorrow night, she would let him bring her to his home, to see where he lived. The time had arrived.
And also to clear up one last little secret he had kept from her.
****
Cindy curled up in her chair after the children were safely asleep, with Dunkin the cat tucked in her lap. With a cup of hot tea, and the steady purr of the cat to calm her, her fingers flew over the pages of her notebook, crafting her next story, and sketching the little creatures who would bring it to life.
When she flexed her fingers a few hours later, she had a sense of accomplishment and hope. Hard to describe was the loss she experienced when her home and computer were vandalized. More than papers and pictures, her stories were a concrete symbol of her creative hopes and dreams. Seeing them reduced to wet and crumbled trash in a trash bag had sliced at her heart more deeply than she ever would have imagined. Her work really mattered.
Cindy ran her hand lovingly over the notebook she had almost filled since that horrible day. If anything, the loss showed her the importance of her dream. She was more committed than ever to pursue her goals. Would she ever have her stories published?
She was starting over, and it would take a long time. But she would not give up. Reverently, she tucked away the notebook.
Before ending the night, she pulled out her folder of bills, and carefully wrote out her monthly checks. As usual, the amount left in her checkbook would be dismal. She thought briefly of her beloved motorcycle, waiting to be bailed out of the repair shop. She’d continue paying a small amount toward the balance, having to accept the delay in getting it back.
Her sigh was so audible, it woke Dunkin who dozed beside her. The cat stretched and then went back to sleep. Life was full of disappointments, she knew. But things could be worse, much worse.
The night was quiet, like the calm after the storm. She hoped the calmness was real. But answers were still needed. The police had done their work. The dark stranger was in custody. Prince’s security watched over them.
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