by LAURA HARNER
“Okay, listen up. Just a reminder to everyone that the recorder is still running and will be handed over to law enforcement, along with our weapons. Michael, all team members are safe. Marcus has a wound to the upper arm—looks like a bullet creased his sleeve. There are a few other scrapes, but nothing Gabe can’t take care of on scene or at the clinic. The two suspects are down. This one…” There was a pause. “Yeah, no need for the ambulance to hurry. We’ll take detailed statements—as will the feds. Michael, we’re going to be here for a while. Might want to send Graeme over as soon as he shakes free of the locals…and maybe call Carter and see if he can have one of his Phoenix attorneys meet us. This is a fucking mess.”
Patti yanked the earpiece out, not needing to hear any more. Evidence was being preserved, that was all she’d needed to know. Her priority remained Annie, who was unnaturally still in her arms. When she got them far enough away from the building to avoid having the child overhear or see anything further about her kidnappers, Patti slowed her near-run into a more casual pace and tried to calm her own breathing.
“Hey, sweetheart. Hey, Annie. I’m a friend of your daddy’s. I’m Patti. Let’s go sit under the big tree over there.” She kept her voice calm and confident, two things she knew the four-year-old girl would need.
As soon as they reached the trees, Patti sat, curling the unresisting little body so they sat cuddled together, the small girl pressed against her chest.
“Let’s call Daddy,” Patti said, ignoring protocol and pulling her phone from where she’d jammed it into her waistband earlier.
“Annie?” Grant’s voice was razor thin, and she knew the stress was unbearable. She could hear a voice in the background hissing instructions to hand the phone over.
“Right here with me, Grant. She’s okay.” Sirens grew louder, and Patti could see a line of patrol cars, unmarked sedans and SUVs, and at least three ambulances racing north on I-17. They would take the next exit and be arriving within the minute.
“Grant, honey—I don’t have much time, but the authorities will take her to the closest children’s hospital. She doesn’t have any injuries that I can see—but they need to check her, okay? Get RJ to bring you straight away.”
Annie shuddered once against Patti’s chest then let out a terrified scream.
“Jesus, Patti! What’s wrong, what’s wrong?” Grant’s panicked voice faded as the first of the emergency vehicles raced into the parking lot, sirens still blaring.
“Nothing…the sirens…” Patti spoke loudly over both Annie and the approaching vehicles. Shifting the girl to rest solidly in her lap, it was easy to hold the phone so they both could hear without using the speakerphone. “Annie, sweetheart, it’s okay. Here’s your Daddy. He’s going to meet us. Everything thing’s okay.”
With a great hiccoughing breath, Annie stopped screaming and looked at the phone. “Daddy?” she whispered.
“Right here, baby. That’s my Annie, that’s my most special girl. You stay with Patti. She’s going to bring you to me, okay?”
Big round eyes looked up at Patti, then back at the phone. “Patti?”
“Yeah, she’s my next best girl, after you, honey. It’s really loud on the phone, so I’m going to come meet you. Stay with Patti until you see me. You hear me, baby? Don’t go anywhere without Patti. She’ll take good care of you.”
“Don’t worry, Grant, I have her. Cops are here; gotta go.”
Chapter Nine
RJ stood in the doorway of the dining room, a smile plastered to his face, despite the swirl of emotions in his gut. After a horrendous day of doctors, psychologists, police, and press—the little house finally felt manageable. Not that he wasn’t happy that they were all here, together. There really were no words to describe the relief, the happiness at having Grant’s daughter returned physically unharmed. At four years old, the girl was smart—she knew the boys had taken her, knew they were gone, too, but she would be okay. RJ was certain of it.
Thank God for Michael Enwright’s team. It didn’t matter where they’d been in the process—talking with the cops? Graeme was there to help with the answers. Official statement to the FBI? Attorney Cade McMartin was there to advise. From Doc Gabe to the press secretary—Enwright had someone to usher the client through the myriad pitfalls that could potentially delay the family’s reunion with the newly recovered victim. More than ever, RJ wanted to be a part of that team, but he was beginning to think his permanent return to the valley might cause relationship problems for Grant and Patti in the future. The last thing he wanted to do was create an uncomfortable situation.
For the last hour, he’d drifted between the doorway and the kitchen, drawn repeatedly to the scene of familial contentment. Grant was seated on the corner of his long couch, Patti curled into his side, and the beautiful Annie sound asleep in a ball on his lap. The three of them were picture perfect—as if nothing bad had ever happened. Christ, Annie even looked a little like Patti, with her strawberry blonde hair and brush of freckles over her cute little nose. They looked like they fit. And damn if RJ wasn’t uncomfortably aware that he should probably go. Then the others could get some rest—everyone was running on reserve power and draining quickly.
“Psst…”
RJ’s head snapped up, and for a second, he wondered if he’d really been thinking about the day or had actually fallen asleep standing in the doorway. He blinked toward the living room and saw Grant’s smile aimed in his direction.
“Psst…come here.” His whisper carried over the Sponge Bob theme music that was playing for at least the third time.
RJ walked over to stand behind the couch and rested his hand on Grant’s shoulder. Looking down, he realized Patti was asleep, too, her head nestled between a cushion and Grant’s shoulder, one of Annie’s legs across her lap.
“How you doing, Grant? Can I get you anything?” he asked quietly, touched once again by how beautiful they looked together.
“You don’t have to hover and wait on us. You look dead on your feet. Come cuddle up next to Patti and we can all nap.”
“No, that’s okay. I was trying to decide if it was better if I left so you all could get some rest or if I should…uh…get dinner.”
Grant laughed softly. “Don’t tell me you learned how to cook. And if you won’t sit on the couch, get that stool and pull up behind me, so we can talk without breaking my neck. I don’t remember you being so tall.”
RJ did as bid and sat behind the couch, their faces close together so they could whisper without waking the girls. “Optical illusion. You’ve always been taller than me. And…cook? Yeah, that’s a problem. I was thinking about calling for delivery, but I couldn’t find any take out menus.”
“What? A genius like you never mastered cooking?” Grant gave a little sort then shook his head, his face suddenly serious. “RJ? Do you…have someone? I mean…a lover or someone to take care of you?”
It was RJ’s turn to smile. “Always wanting to fix things for me, Grant. No, no lover. A few dates here and there, but nothing serious. Honestly, I wasn’t home very much. My job—well, it consumed me the first few years. Then I got this idea—for that tracker—and I started working on it at night. If I wasn’t working, I was at the gym. I guess learning to cook just wasn’t on my radar. The company cafeteria and take out were all I needed. How about you—looks like you got pretty serious about someone. At least once, huh?” He looked down at the sleeping child, then back into the familiar hazel eyes. “What about now?”
Grant was already shaking his head before the question was finished. “No, that was the thing. Michelle and I weren’t serious. I mean, obviously we screwed around, but…” Grant looked down at his sleeping daughter, then brushed his hand over her hair. “She’s…” He swallowed hard. “She’s the best thing…so much more…” Grant transferred his gaze to meet RJ’s. “I don’t have the words to tell you what it means that you helped to get her back.”
RJ moved his hand, reaching again for Grant’s shoul
der, but his old friend leaned into the touch and he found his fingers entwined in Grant’s soft brown hair. He brushed a silky curl between his thumb and forefinger, lost for a moment in the memories. Then the past merged with the present.
“Come ‘ere,” Grant whispered.
“I don’t—” RJ looked down at Annie. This wasn’t right on so many levels. Sure, he’d wanted to move back to Phoenix in hopes of seeing Patti and Grant again—but he’d thought they were all still single—without a child. And he’d definitely harbored thoughts of Patti…he couldn’t deny that. But Grant? Yeah, that was someplace he rarely allowed himself to go. At least not consciously…because goddammit! It wasn’t like he was in the closet. Not really. He’d had hook ups with men and women over the years. He enjoyed them both, but nothing had ever come close to what he’d felt with Patti and Grant together. Nothing. And you just couldn’t live like that out in the real world.
“RJ…stop thinking and kiss me.”
Blinking back into focus, RJ looked over at the man who’d taken him in so many ways, so many firsts. Unable to look away, as if an invisible filament tied them together, an electric current running between them, RJ was pulled deeper into the magic of Grant Anderson. Slowly, inexorably, they leaned into each other. Close as a breath, until a scant millimeter was all that separated them.
“Don’t run from me this time, RJ. Let’s just see how this plays out.” The words whispered over RJ’s lips and then were lost in the soft press of mouth against mouth, the gentle swipe of tongue.
“Mmm…that’s nice to see.”
Patti’s whisper snapped RJ’s head back like a blow. He jumped to his feet, stumbling slightly when his knee bumped into the stool where he’d been seated. He wiped nervously at his mouth, feeling…hell. What was he feeling? Guilty. Definitely guilty.
“I’m sorry, Patti. I know you wanted…I didn’t mean…” Fuck. How did you tell one best friend you weren’t trying to encroach on her love interest? Especially when said love interest was another best friend and it had been pretty clear you damn well were encroaching?
Jesus. He was confusing himself. He needed to get back in the lab—people were too fucking hard. Not that… He felt the heated flush start working its way up his neck and into his cheeks, and hoped like hell his complexion was hiding the blush.
“Sorry…I uh, need to call the hotel. I’m pretty sure they cancelled my reservation. I need to see if they can uh…”
“Daddy?” The soft voice froze everyone in place.
“Hey, my angel. We didn’t mean to wake you.” Grant stroked the soft red curls. “We were just talking about what to get for dinner. Are you hungry? What sounds good to you?”
“Pizza,” the little girl responded immediately. “Just us, right, Daddy?”
“Just us? What about Patti and RJ? How about we invite them, too?”
The silky curls bobbed with her nod. “I mean just us in the house.” She looked at Patti. “You’re not leaving, right? You said…”
“No, sweetie. I’m not leaving. RJ’s not leaving either, okay?”
Annie looked over at him through her lashes, her smile a little shy, a little uncertain. Hell, he felt uncertain too, so he just smiled back and hoped he didn’t look scary.
“You brought my daddy to find me. And you brought us home.”
“Oh, hey. Anytime.” RJ cleared his throat and searched for something intelligent to say. “I’ll go get the pizza. Where should I go?”
“Menu for Jo Jo’s is in the top left drawer next to the sink. Cheese for the munchkin…and you know what I want.”
Patti raised a hand. “Veggie for me…but RJ, uh, can I talk to you in the kitchen for a sec?” Patti asked. She lifted Annie’s leg from her lap and rose to meet him. In the kitchen, she kept her voice low. “Two things—first, you can’t go get the pizza. Remember? Michael made the deal we would stay put with his guys keeping an eye on the place for tonight until the police clear everything. Once you order the pizza, call Marcus and tell him so he can let the delivery guy through, okay?”
“Oh, right. I forgot. That doctor is coming back to check on Annie, too, right?”
“Yeah—that’s my friend, Gabe. He should be here in about an hour, but so far, I think Annie is doing great.”
“She seems like a terrific kid. She’s not exactly what I thought a four-year-old would be like,” RJ said.
“You mean like a mini-adult? She’s pretty smart, but with two teachers as parents, I expect she’s just picking up on the cues around her. I see plenty of four-year-olds at the park. One minute they’re talking about the canyon or river…whatever catches their interest. Then like a switch, they go into meltdown when they get too tired. I’m sure hers is coming.”
“Okay, I consider myself warned. You said two things…what’s the other?”
“Oh, right. No apologies. Whatever happens, or doesn’t, between any of us. None of us needs to apologize to the others. Grant was right…you think too much sometimes,” Patti whispered.
“Yeah, but you wanted—”
“Stop. Don’t finish that sentence. When I’m ready, and we have this god-awful two days completely behind us, then I’ll be the one to tell you what I want. Don’t assume you know what that is, querido.”
Stepping close, Patti pressed a quick hard kiss against his mouth. “Order the pizza. Don’t forget, Grant likes—”
“Anchovies,” they finished together on a laugh, memories of their college days floating to the surface again.
Chapter Ten
Stifling a yawn, Patti resisted the urge to crawl onto the couch and collapse. It was still early by her usual standards, but over the last two hours they’d eaten dinner, put away leftovers, and Gabe stopped by to check on Annie. He’d asked a few questions, then left a business card and orders to call Enwright Security’s consulting psychologist within the next couple of days. Michael had called, as had the agent in charge from the FBI, and Detective Parker. They all planned to arrive by nine in the morning. Patti was running on a thin thread of hope that, by lunchtime tomorrow, most of this disruption would be over and Grant and Annie could get back to their lives. Then maybe she and RJ could see if there was room in Grant and Annie’s lives for either—or both—of them.
With the house finally empty of visitors, and the phone on silent for the night, things should have been settling down, but instead, tension was rising. Patti wondered if the four-year-old was the only one headed for a meltdown. Grant had been close to a state of shock ever since Parker jumped protocol and notified them that the dead kidnappers had been nothing more than boys—students from one of his government classes. He’d barely spoken since receiving the news, other than to say he didn’t want to talk about it tonight.
Now Grant stood in the hallway, looking down at his daughter, hands on his hips, towel draped over his shoulder, deep lines etched in his face. When he repeatedly told Annie it was time for a bath and to get ready for bed, his voice came out a tired rasp.
The little girl’s lower lip pushed out and Patti could see the argument forming. She moved before there was a flash flood of screaming tears. Stepping between them and putting a hand to Grant’s forearm, she asked a question designed to refocus his attention.
“Grant? Are you sure the two of you would like us to stay? RJ’s making noise about going to a hotel, again. You only have the two bedrooms and well…”
“Nooo,” Annie wailed. “Daddy, make them stay, please? They can sleep in your bed, it’s big enough. Like a sleepover…”
Before Grant could answer, Patti squatted down. “Hey, short stuff. How about I help you with the bath, and Daddy can go talk to RJ?”
Annie threw her arms around Patti’s neck. “I don’t want you to go. You saved me.”
“Aw, come on. Let’s get you ready for bed and I’ll read you a story, okay?”
Taking Annie’s hand, Patti led the girl to the bathroom. Behind her, she heard Grant’s chuckle as he turned away.
“H
ear that, RJ? We’re having a sleepover. Everyone in my bed…doesn’t that sound like fun?”
Chapter Eleven
Across town, Franklin Kendrick paced seven long steps north, turned sharply and then took the same seven steps south. And again. And yet again, as the recent events played over in his mind. Phone calls poured in throughout the day at the district and the high school offices. Secretaries and student aides were replaced on the phones by senior administrators as they struggled to field the calls from concerned parents and the rabid media. As if anyone could be expected to have answers regarding the deaths of two high school seniors killed after kidnapping a teacher's child.
As a vice principal in one of the largest schools in the Scottsdale Unified School District, Frank's office had plenty of room for pacing, but if he stayed here too much longer, the office lights would draw attention. Despite the long days most teachers worked, administrators were rarely here after hours this late in the academic year. Tonight had been an exception, with many on staff staying later than usual, but everyone had finally gone home. Everyone except him.
The last thing he needed was the local police making a detour to his office during one of their routine patrols. Or worse…tempting a hungry reporter looking for an inside angle on an already sensational news story. Most of the investigation would focus on Desert Thunder High School, the two dead boys, and the teacher—Mr. Anderson. Eventually, though, it was likely the police would come talk with the administrators at all the high schools.
As he turned, Frank caught sight of his reflection in the large picture window and jerked to a stop in surprise. His hair stood in wild tufts, the tail of his shirt stuck out from one side of his waistband, and his tie was askew. He looked like a mad professor. Definitely not the image he wanted to project. Raking shaky fingers through his hair, Frank started to put himself back to rights. After tucking his shirt back, he straightened his tie, and smoothed his palms over his slacks.
