And there’d been Gavin.
He’d been there more than he’d been gone, spending nights on the couch in the living room or on the futon in the back room. The house was large, with plenty of space for all eight kids, Virginia and Cassie. It didn’t seem that one more person should make it feel crowded, but every time Gavin was around, the house felt filled to the brim with people and noise and distractions.
That probably wasn’t a bad thing.
Cassie hadn’t been sleeping well. The kids were restless and out of sorts, and Virginia was jumping at shadows. Gavin had insisted the kids stay home from school, and that meant homeschooling all of them. Everyone was tense and a little anxious. Including Cassie. So distraction was what they all probably needed.
The problem was, Cassie didn’t want the distraction to be a guy like Gavin.
She popped four pieces of bread into the toaster and yelled for the kids to come down for breakfast. She’d have preferred to let them sleep in, because she would love to have nursed a cup of coffee on the back porch. The farmhouse was in a rural community set far back from the road. If Cassie ignored the twelve-foot high fence that surrounded the property, she could almost imagine that it was a country getaway, a pretty vacation property that she and the kids were spending time in. It was quiet there, peaceful. When the kids were asleep. When they were awake, they enjoyed the huge yard, the dirt, the fruit trees that were still bare from winter.
Footsteps sounded in the hall that opened out from the kitchen. Not the quick light footsteps of one of the kids. Heavier footsteps mixed with the soft tap of dog paws on the hardwood floor.
Gavin. She knew it before he walked into the room, felt a couple of dozen butterflies jump to life in her stomach.
“Morning,” he said.
“Good morning,” she replied, making herself busy buttering toast so she didn’t have to look at him. He looked great in the morning, his jaw dark with stubble, his eyes still heavy from sleep.
Not that she’d noticed. Much.
“What’s on the agenda for today?” he asked, pouring coffee from the carafe and standing about a foot away, his hip resting against the edge of the counter. He was in uniform, Glory on-heel.
“Same thing we’ve done every day.” She placed slices of toast on plates, then slid four more pieces of toast into the toaster. The eggs were ready and she divvied them up onto the plates she’d already set on the counter. “Breakfast, school, playtime, chores.”
“You think you can get away for a couple of hours?”
The question was so unexpected, she turned to face him, looking straight into his gorgeous eyes. “Why?”
“The forensic sketch artist that Harland requested was able to get a red-eye out of Houston last night. He’ll be in later this morning.”
“He’s coming out to the house?”
“No. You’re going to have to go to him.”
“I don’t know.” She could hear the kids running down the stairs, knew they’d burst into the kitchen at any moment. They were as good an excuse as any for not taking a twenty-minute ride into DC with Gavin. “The kids are still unsettled. I hate to leave them when they’re not feeling comfortable.”
“Not comfortable? Adam said they were outside for hours yesterday, screaming and hollering so loudly he wanted ear plugs and aspirin.”
“Sorry about that.” She laughed. “They were being obnoxiously loud. I didn’t have the heart to tell them to settle down.” She’d loved seeing them relaxed and having fun, so she hadn’t told them to quiet down.
“And will you admit that they were plenty comfortable?” he pressed, and she had no choice but to agree. The kids were antsy, but they didn’t seem unhappy, and they didn’t seem scared.
“I guess so.”
“We’ve got K-9 officers, protection dogs. Plenty of security. There’s really no reason for you to stay here with them.”
“Virginia is still shaky. She’s jumping at shadows. I can’t leave her here.”
“Cassie.” He sighed. “Why don’t you just be honest?”
“About?” she hedged, because the kids were running down the hall, and she hoped she wouldn’t have time to hear what he had to say.
“You’re uncomfortable around me.” He took two of the plates from the counter and set them at the table as Lila and David ran in.
“What would make you say that?” she asked, and he snorted, grabbing two more plates and sliding them down in front of Destiny and Kent.
“I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you avoid me like the plague.”
“No, I don’t.” But, he was right. She did try to stay out of rooms when he was in them. If he was outside she went in. If he was inside, and she could be outside, she did that too.
“You do.” He helped Axel into a chair, put a plate in front of him and handed him a fork, a napkin and a sippy cup that he filled with juice. Axel never ate without a drink in his hand. It was a strange little habit that Cassie hadn’t quite figured out, but Gavin had noticed.
He noticed everything about everyone. He made sure everyone had his or her favorite food, favorite DVD, favorite books. He’d brought matchbox cars for Kent, a stuffed animal for Tommy, dolls for the two younger girls. He’d brought Destiny a cookbook and a bunch of ingredients and spent time discussing the best recipe for homemade bread.
He was that kind of guy, and as far as Cassie could tell the kids were really starting to like him.
Rachel padded into the kitchen, her nightgown dragging the floor, her hair sticking up in every direction. She smiled when she saw Gavin, then walked over to Cassie for a hug.
She was a sweet little girl, but whatever she’d seen the night of Michael Jeffries’s murder was still sealed tight in her head. No matter how many times Cassie asked, Rachel refused to admit that she’d seen one of the boys leave his room.
As a matter of fact, all the kids were sticking to their original stories.
“Good morning!” Virginia sashayed into the kitchen, Juan on her hip. “Looks like you’ve been cooking, Cassie. I thought it was my turn.”
It had been, but Cassie had been awake, and she’d wanted something to occupy her mind. Otherwise, images of the gunman filled it, her heart would race, and her blood would run cold. “I was up. There was no sense in you having to get up too.”
“I’ll take care of lunch, then,” she said as she grabbed one of the plates and sat at the table, Juan in her lap. He wasn’t crying for his mother as much as he had been during the first couple of days after Rosa had died. It was good for him, but sad for the woman who’d given birth to him, loved him.
“I’m glad to hear that, Virginia,” Gavin said. “If you’re taking care of lunch, Cassie won’t have to rush to get back.”
“You’re going somewhere?” Virginia asked, her gaze darting from Cassie to Gavin and back again.
“Unfortunately,” Cassie muttered. “I have to go meet with a forensic sketch artist. Gavin is going to take me into DC. Unless you’d rather I not go.” If Virginia didn’t want Cassie to leave, maybe Gavin would bring the sketch artist out to them.
“Why wouldn’t I want you to go?” Virginia looked genuinely puzzled.
“Things have been a little crazy lately. I don’t want to leave you here with the kids if you’re not feeling safe and secure.”
“It would be hard not to feel safe,” Virginia said. “There’s a twelve-foot fence surrounding the property, guard dogs and police officers.”
“I was hoping you’d feel that way,” Gavin said, and Virginia blushed. “I think that settles it, Cassie. You’re free to come to DC with me.”
“Wonderful,” she replied.
“Try not to sound too enthusiastic.” He filled her coffee cup, opened the fridge and took out the creamer, then poured a splash into the coffee. If he scooped a spoonful of sugar in…
He did, stirring it around three times like she always did.
“Here you go.” He handed it to her, and she took a sip. Strong and
just a little sweet. Kind of like the man who’d poured it for her.
She frowned, staring into her coffee cup. “Thanks. What time do you want to leave?”
“How long will it take you to get ready?”
“Maybe thirty minutes.” She could actually do it more quickly, but Tommy hadn’t come down for breakfast, and she had a feeling she was in for a struggle with him. He’d been grumpy and quiet since they’d left All Our Kids. It worried her, but the more she pushed him to open up to her, the more he sank into himself and refused to communicate. “I’ve got to wake Tommy up. Then, we can leave.”
“I can do that for you,” Virginia offered.
“It’s okay. I have to go upstairs for my purse, anyway. Be back in a few minutes.” She hurried out of the room, anxious to get her things and go, to get the trip over with. She felt nervous about the sketch artist, afraid that she wouldn’t be able to describe the person she’d seen well enough for the description to be translated into a drawing.
She was nervous about Gavin, too. About spending more time with him, about seeing things in him that she didn’t want to see. Good things. Admirable things.
She scowled, taking the stairs two at a time. There were five bedrooms upstairs. The girls shared one, the boys shared one. She and Virginia had their own, and Juan had the tiny room at the end of the hall.
The door to the boys’ room was closed, and Cassie knocked, waited a moment and opened the door.
“Tommy—” she began, but the room was empty. No one on either set of bunk beds. No one under them. She checked the closet. Empty.
Her heart thumped painfully as she looked in the girls’ room, Juan’s room, Virginia’s room. “Tommy!” she called.
Had he gone outside?
She ran back downstairs. Gavin and Glory were waiting at the front door.
“Everything okay?” Gavin asked.
“I can’t find Tommy.”
He frowned. “Where’d you look?”
“Every room upstairs. He’s not there.”
“You looked under beds?”
“Yes.”
“Closets?”
“Gavin,” she snapped, impatient with the questions, terrified that Tommy had run away. “I looked. I didn’t find him.” She sidled past him and opened the small coat closet that was on the wall next to the front door. Tommy’s coat still hung there with the others. His shoes were on the little shoe rack beneath the coats.
She unlocked the door, would have walked outside, but Gavin touched her shoulder. “Do you really think he could have gone outside?”
“I—”
“We’ve got a state-of-the-art security system, Cassie, and it’s on all night every night. If he opened a door or window, the alarm would have gone off. If he’d walked outside, Adam or Nicholas would have seen him.”
“Maybe. Tommy is wily.”
“Not wily enough to get past a Doberman pinscher or a Rottweiler.” His hand slid from her shoulder down her arm, rested on her wrist. “Did you forget Ace and Max were out there?”
She had, and remembering made her legs weak with relief. “Right. I forgot.” She let out a shaky laugh. “So, he’s in the house somewhere. I’d better search upstairs a little more carefully.”
“You could.” He snagged Tommy’s jacket from the closet without having to ask which one it was. “Or Glory could.”
“I forgot about that, too. I guess Virginia is rubbing off on me. I panicked before I thought.”
“You aren’t even close to the kind of person who panics before she thinks.” He held the jacket out, letting Glory sniff the fabric. Her ears perked up, her dark brown eyes alert and interested.
“Go!” he commanded. “Find.”
Whether she smelled Tommy or heard him, Cassie didn’t know, but the shepherd didn’t hesitate. She padded up the stairs, stuck her head in the boys’ room, reconsidered and walked farther down the hall.
She nosed Cassie’s closed bedroom door, scratching at the wood. “Did you check in here?” Gavin asked as he opened the door.
“No. The kids know better than to go in my room.”
“And, they follow the rules all the time, huh?” He walked into the room behind Glory, and Cassie followed. Aside from Juan’s room, it was the smallest. Ten by ten with a twin bed, a small dresser and one window that looked out over the backyard.
Glory padded to the closet, scratched the door and sat.
“Looks like we’ve found our mark,” Gavin said quietly.
Cassie opened the door. She’d only brought jeans, Tshirts, a dress, a couple of skirts and blouses, two pair of shoes, so there wasn’t much in the closet. Or shouldn’t have been. Tommy was there, huddled on the floor with six of his stuffed animals. He’d been crying, his face streaked with tears, his cheeks red.
She didn’t try to get him to come out, just crawled in beside him and put an arm around his stiff shoulders. “Buddy, what in the world are you doing in here?”
“Nothing.” He sniffed, wiping at his nose with the sleeve of his superhero pajamas.
“Are you sad because we had to leave the other house?” she suggested. Tommy didn’t usually cry, and seeing him so upset broke her heart.
He shook his head, pulled his knees up to his chin and laid his cheek against them.
“Are you sure?”
He didn’t respond, so she did what she’d learned to do with kids like him. She didn’t say anything, just sat beside him and waited.
*
Gavin had been forced to learn the fine art of patience years ago, but it still didn’t come easily to him. That was a shame, seeing as how he was currently spending almost all of his time in a house filled to the brim with kids. None of whom were eager to cooperate with him.
Case in point—Tommy.
The kid knew something, Gavin was almost certain of it.
But, no matter how many times Gavin asked, no matter how many ways he asked, he got nothing from him.
He glanced at his watch, the silence in the room deafening. Neither Cassie nor Tommy seemed eager to break it. Any other day, that would have been fine, but Gavin was on a tight timeline. He was supposed to have Cassie at headquarters within the hour. The forensic sketch artist had limited time in DC, and if they missed the window of opportunity, Harland’s efforts to get the guy in would have been wasted.
He cleared his throat, hoping Cassie would get the hint and try to move things along.
She shot him a hard look, her eyes bright but deeply shadowed. She hadn’t been sleeping well. He’d heard the floor creaking above his head as she’d paced her room, heard her move from one room to the next, checking on kids. He’d thought about walking up the stairs and offering her a cup of coffee, a glass of milk, a willing ear.
But that had seemed like a bad idea.
He needed to keep his distance.
That’s what his job required. It was also what his life required. He didn’t have anything to offer a woman like Cassie. She was all about family and connection, about sitting down to dinner every night with eight kids, hearing every minute detail of each child’s day. She was about playing tag in the backyard, chasing preteens and toddlers until everyone was squealing and laughing.
Tommy shifted, and Gavin hoped the kid was finally going to speak.
“I’m hungry,” he said, and Cassie sighed.
“That’s all you have to say after coming in my room and hiding in my closet?”
“It’s not your room. It’s his room.” Tommy jabbed his finger in Gavin’s direction. “’Cause this is his house.”
“It’s not my house, champ,” he corrected. “It belongs to the people I work for.”
Tommy shrugged, shuffling out of the closet on his knees, all his stuffed animals clutched in his arms. “It’s still not Cassie’s.”
“That doesn’t mean you get to invade my privacy, Tommy,” Cassie responded calmly. In the three days she and the kids had been at the safe house, Gavin had never seen her come even close to l
osing her cool with any of them. She had more patience than anyone Gavin had ever known.
“I’m sorry, Cassie. I just didn’t want the bad man to get me,” Tommy whispered, and everything inside Gavin went still and calm and careful. This was what he’d wanted to talk about. This was what he’d waited three days to hear.
“What bad man?” Cassie asked, crawling out of the closet behind him. She could have been asking about the color of the sky or the warmth of the sun for all the excitement in her voice. What wasn’t there was in her eyes. Gavin could see it in the sharpness of her gaze as she crouched in front of Tommy, put a hand on his shoulder.
“The one with the gun,” he said, and Cassie’s gaze shifted to Gavin. He knew that she felt what he did. This could be it. The moment when Tommy admitted that he’d been out of the house, been to Harland’s place, seen something that he shouldn’t have seen.
“You saw him?” Cassie asked quietly. “At Congressman Jeffries’s house?”
Tommy hesitated, then shook his head violently. “No! I told you no! I didn’t see nothing!”
He jerked away from Cassie, ran down the stairs, his feet pounding on the wood.
She didn’t get up, didn’t move, and Gavin thought he saw a little piece of her heart break right in front of his eyes.
He took her hand, tugged her to her feet. “It’s okay,” he said, because he thought she needed to hear it.
“Not really.” She rubbed the back of her neck, her hair loose for a change. No high ponytail or messy bun, the glossy strands fell to the center of her back and clung to her neck and her shoulder. “I’ve worked so hard to get Tommy to open up to me. Now we’re back at square one, doing the same things we were doing when he first came to me.”
“Isn’t that the way it always is?” It was the way it had been with him. Two steps forward. One step back. Repeating the same bad patterns of behavior over and over again, always hoping to get a different result. It had taken time and maturity to work through that, to figure out a way to make healthy choices that would lead him in the right direction.
He would have told her that, but they were running late. The sketch artist was waiting with Margaret and all the members of Capitol K-9 who weren’t on duty. So far, they had plenty of questions and no answers. The search warrant for Erin’s apartment had finally come through, but a thorough search of the residence had revealed nothing. No hint as to where she’d gone, why she’d gone. No hidden diary revealing some secret hatred of Michael, some reason why she might want him dead.
Love Inspired Suspense March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Protection DetailHidden AgendaBroken Silence Page 12
