by Terri Reed
For herself, however, there was no hope for a future with Gabe.
TEN
A knock on the door snagged Kris’s attention away from her depressing thoughts. “Come in.”
Mrs. Tipple entered the apartment. Today she wore a flowing long skirt and a soft tunic-style sweater. Her silver hair was unbound and hanging down her back. Kris hoped she’d still have a sense of style when she reached the older woman’s age.
“Oh, excuse me. I didn’t realize Sadie had a visitor. How are you, Kristina?”
“Well, thank you.” She glanced at Sadie; her eyes had closed again and her breathing evened out. “Grams is resting.”
“So I see.” Mrs. Tipple smiled. “In that case, would you care for a cup of tea?”
A thought occurred to Kris. Though she’d already asked the woman about Denise Jamesen, maybe Mrs. Tipple might have some information on Carl Remming and Lena Street. It couldn’t hurt to ask because Mrs. Tipple seemed to socialize with all the residents. “Tea would be great.” Just in case her grandmother could hear her, she said, “I’ll be back in a bit, Grams.”
Kris followed Mrs. Tipple down the hall toward the independent living wing where the older woman’s apartment was located. Mrs. Tipple chatted about the various residents as they went, pointing to each door with the nameplate and apartment number posted on the wall. Outside of each apartment were small shelves that the residents used as a porch of sorts. Some had potted plants or stuffed animals as cheery decor.
Toward the end of the hall a woman stepped out of an apartment. Kris recognized Vivian Kirk. Beside her Mrs. Tipple stiffened.
“Evelyn, I just peeked in to see if you were around,” Vivian said with a broad smile as they approached.
“As you can see I’m not at home,” Mrs. Tipple stated in a voice full of censure.
Belatedly, Kris realized the nameplate next to the door read Mrs. Evelyn Tipple. The term nosey neighbor came to mind.
“True.” Vivian reached out to take Kris’s hand in hers. “Hello, Kristina. How is your grandmother today?”
“A little under the weather.”
Vivian’s mouth turned down in an exaggerated frown. “Oh, that’s too bad.” She released her hand and cleared her expression. “I’ll stop by to see her later.”
“I’m sure she’d appreciate that,” Kris replied. These ladies were very friendly. Maybe a bit too much?
“You were looking for me, Viv?” Evelyn reminded.
“Yes. I wanted to see if you were up for a game of tennis.”
Kris stared at the elderly ladies. “Tennis?” The weather outside was bitterly cold, not to mention the ground was covered with snow.
Vivian’s eyes twinkled. “On the Wii in the game room.”
“Ah.” Now that made more sense.
“Ruth was supposed to play but she isn’t feeling well today, either. There must be a bug going around, which isn’t surprising considering the recirculated air.”
“Thank you for asking, but Kristina and I were about to have a cup of tea. Care to join us?”
“You’re too kind,” Vivian said and then shook her head. “But no, thank you. Though, Evelyn dear, you are looking a bit dry today.” To Kris, Vivian said, “Must keep hydrated in this forced, central-heated air.”
Evelyn made an indelicate snort. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Vivian flashed another smile. “I’ll go rustle up another tennis partner. Maybe old George will take the challenge.” She ambled down the hall and disappeared around the corner.
“She’s a lively one,” Kris commented.
“Yes, that she is. She’s only fifty-seven, you know.” Evelyn sighed. “To be that young again…”
Evelyn opened her apartment door and led the way inside. The small one-bedroom unit was decorated in soft pastels with watercolor prints on the walls, lace doilies adorning the antique-looking furniture and fresh flowers on every available surface.
“Your place is beautiful,” Kris commented as she took a seat at the small, round dining table by the window that overlooked the courtyard.
“Thank you. I like it,” Evelyn replied while setting the teakettle to boil. Since Mrs. Tipple wasn’t in the assisted living section of the center, her apartment was equipped with a functioning kitchen.
From a cupboard she brought down one of several glass jars full of loose tea leaves. She made a little tsking noise.
“Something wrong?” Kris asked.
“No. Just my memory. I keep leaving a filled tea ball in the jar.” She dangled the filled mesh ball from the crook of her finger for a moment before setting the ball in a porcelain teapot. “I hope you don’t mind lemongrass. I find it soothing.”
Clueless about teas, Kris smiled. “Anything you choose will be fine.” Though she’d have preferred some coffee for a little pick-me-up.
The kettle whistled. Evelyn filled the teapot with the steaming liquid. “We’ll need to let it steep for a few moments,” she said and sat down across from Kris.
Deciding to dive in with her questions, Kris asked, “Do you remember Carl Remming ever mentioning his vacation plans?”
Mrs. Tipple’s eyebrows twitched. “No, can’t say that I do. I know he’s been gone for a while. He must like wherever he went.” She smiled sweetly.
“What about Lena Street? She’s supposedly on vacation, as well.”
“Really?” Evelyn busied herself pouring tea into the small, delicate china cup in front of Kris. “I didn’t know either of them well.”
Something niggled at the back of Kris’s memory. Something Sadie had said. Maybe the stress had more impact on memory than age. Great. Kris picked up her cup and sipped the hot liquid. The earthy flavor was pleasant and soothing as it went down.
Evelyn rose. “I think I have some scones left from yesterday. I use a diabetic recipe, hope you won’t mind. I’ll warm us up a couple.”
“I didn’t realize you were diabetic,” Kris commented as she watched the fluid way the older woman bustled about her kitchen.
“You know as we age…” Evelyn let the sentiment hang in the air.
Kris nodded in understanding. So much changed as one grew older. Bodies failing, minds going. One day she’d be the elderly one. She could only pray that she’d have grandchildren to visit with. To believe her if she said people were disappearing. But first she’d have to find a husband.
Gabe’s face popped into her mind. And she willed the image away. No point in fantasizing about something that wasn’t going to happen.
While Evelyn reheated the scones, Kris sipped her tea and turned her thoughts to what her grandmother had said about the missing people. They had been there one day and gone the next. No goodbye, no nothing. Gabe had looked at their rooms and found nothing to suggest foul play, which had to indicate they had left of their own accord. But Kris couldn’t remember if he’d said their suitcases were missing. She’d have to remember to ask him.
“Here we go,” Evelyn announced as she settled a plate of two fluffy blueberry scones on the table.
“Thank you,” Kris said and reached for a scone. She took a bite, expecting the scone to be dry and flavorless because of the dietary restrictions associated with diabetes, but the pastry was actually very tasty. Halfway through, though, her appetite deserted her as her stomache cramped. She put a hand over her abdomen.
“Are you all right? You’re suddenly so pale,” Evelyn observed.
Kris smiled even though her nausea surged and her chest tightened, causing her breathing to become a bit labored. “I don’t feel so good. I think I should get back to Sadie.” She stood, holding on to the back of the chair as the room tilted. A wave of heat swept over her and her body began to tingle. When the world righted, she moved toward the door. “Thank you for the tea and scone.”
“Would you like to take the rest of your scone with you?”
Not really, but she didn’t want to be impolite.
“That would be great.”
Evelyn wr
apped the pastry in a napkin and handed it to Kris. “I sure hope you don’t have the bug that’s going around.”
“Me, too. I’m sorry to leave so abruptly.”
Evelyn opened the door. “Not a problem. I’ve been fighting a queasy stomach myself lately. I hope you feel better soon.”
Kris rushed out of the apartment and fled to Sadie’s studio, feeling sicker by the second. Once inside, she deposited the scone on the table and hurried to the bathroom, where she promptly threw up. Once her stomach was empty and the dry heaves subsided, she rinsed her mouth and brushed some of Sadie’s mint toothpaste across her teeth. Her lungs still hurt but her breathing had eased up. Had her breakfast turned bad? Or was her stomach upset due to the residual panic from earlier?
She said a quick prayer of healing before exiting the bathroom.
She found Gabe standing beside a still-sleeping Sadie. He turned and his expression grew concerned. “Whoa. You okay?”
Great, she must look as bad as she felt. “I just got sick,” she explained and moved to sit in the rocker by the window. Her legs felt shaky and her mouth dry. “Would you get me a glass of water?”
“Of course,” he said and went to the small sink. “Cups?”
“Cupboard to the right of the sink.”
A second later, Gabe handed her a short glassful of cool water, which she gratefully drank. The liquid soothed her parched throat.
Gabe squatted down beside her, concern alight in the emerald depths of his eyes. “Should I get the nurse?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s necessary. One of the residents mentioned a bug going around.”
Looking unconvinced, he brushed back a strand of hair.
“Besides, it could just be stress. It’s not like I was shot at or anything,” she joked with a pointed look toward the bulky bandage beneath the sleeve of his suit jacket.
He rolled his eyes. “I just had a conference call with your father, Ms. Faust and Trent Associates. They are sending one of their people over right now, a woman by the name of Gina Tomes. I had Angie run her credentials. They checked out.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “She should be here anytime now. She’ll be posing as a full-time nurse for Sadie. Ms. Faust wasn’t too pleased, but she really has no choice.”
Relieved, Kris said, “That’s good they can send someone so soon. Can we stay until she gets here?”
“Of course.”
Her gaze strayed from his gorgeous eyes to her grandmother’s sleeping form on the bed. “I know the nurse said Grams is okay but this is so unlike her to be sleeping during the day like this.”
“But you did say Sadie wasn’t sleeping well at night. Maybe the lack of sleep finally caught up with her? And she could have the crud that’s going around.”
Definitely a reasonable explanation, one she’d have to accept. For now.
To distract herself from Sadie, Kris asked, “Did you search the missing residents’ rooms?”
“Angie did. She didn’t find anything to suggest foul play. Lack of suitcases and empty hangers gave credence to Ms. Faust’s vacation story.”
“Did she ever give you their itineraries?”
He snorted. “As Ms. Faust repeated several times, this isn’t a prison. Other than each resident making arrangements for their bills to be paid, not one left a number where they could be reached.”
“So Ms. Faust really doesn’t know what happened to the residents?”
With a shrug, he said, “Appears so.”
A soft knock sounded at the door.
Gabe moved to open the door and admitted a stunning African-American woman, wearing a green nurse’s smock over her dark pants and black turtleneck. Slung over her shoulder was a big, leather bag with balls of yarn and knitting needles poking out the top. Her long dark hair was swept back and held at the nape of her neck by a gold clip. Beneath her smock Kris detected a bulge that she guessed meant the woman was carrying a weapon.
“You must be Gina,” Gabe said and stuck out his hand. “I’m Detective Burke.”
“Glad to meet you,” Gina said in a smooth voice.
Kris stood and met the woman’s gaze. Gina’s sharp, intelligent eyes assessed her. Kris held out her hand. “I’m Kris.”
Gina took her hand, her touch warm and steady. “Hello, Kris. You won’t have to worry while I’m here. I’ll take good care of your grandmother.”
Kris believed her. “Thank you.”
Gina released Kris’s hand. “I’ve been brought up to speed on the case,” she told Gabe. “Another operative should be at the Worthington home by now.”
“Good. Thank you.” He handed her a business card. “If you need anything.”
She pocketed the card. “Will do.”
Gabe turned to Kris and held out his hand. “You ready?”
Her gaze bounced to Sadie even as her mind told her to trust that all would be well. God had Sadie in His care. “I suppose.”
Her hand fit snugly within his grasp. A pleasant warmth spread up her arm, reminding her how good it felt every time he held her. Every time he touched her. Kissed her.
Reluctant to let go, she tightened her hold, refusing to release him when his fingers slackened as they left the apartment. There may not be a future for them, but they had right now and right now she needed the contact.
She could feel his gaze searching her face as they walked toward the front of the center. He stopped as they neared the reception desk. “Ms. Faust has some paperwork for me,” he declared to the receptionist.
“And she said you’d have something for her,” the brunette countered with a smile.
“I do.” Gabe pulled out an envelope from his inside coat pocket and handed it over.
The pretty brunette stared up at him with an amused glint. “Very good. Would you like help out with it?”
“Help out?”
The woman gestured toward a stack of boxes behind the desk.
“Oh, yes, I guess that would be good.”
“Let me see where Frank is,” said the receptionist as she dialed a number.
Gabe turned to Kris. “Feel up to carrying out a few boxes?”
She eyed the stack. “Sure. What are they?”
“Hopefully, the key to what’s going on.”
“That’s cryptic,” she muttered.
A few minutes later, Frank came walking down the hall. He stopped when he saw them. He started to back up. The receptionist called out to him. “Frank, come here.”
Hesitatingly, he came forward, keeping his gaze pinned on Gabe. “Yeah?”
Kris thought the man was sneaky and not someone she’d trust, but apparently Gabe didn’t share the sentiment.
“We need your help with these boxes,” Gabe instructed, his tone even and unthreatening.
Frank’s gaze jumped from the boxes to Gabe. “I guess I can help.”
“Thanks, Frank, I appreciate it,” Gabe said as he moved to the boxes. He handed one to Kris.
Frank hefted two boxes at once in his arms. “Where to?”
“The black SUV by the curb,” Gabe indicated.
Frank carried the boxes out of the center.
“Are you sure about trusting him?” Kris whispered.
Gabe’s gaze bored into her. “Trust me.”
She did, probably more than she should. Because somehow when all was said and done, she knew her heart was going to pay a price.
Gabe immediately disliked the bodyguard Trent Associates had sent over to stand guard over Kris. It didn’t matter that the guy’s credentials were impressive—military-trained and college-educated. Or that he had glowing references from some major political figures and celebrities. The guy was capable and would protect Kris more than adequately.
There really wasn’t any concrete reason for the burning dislike charging through his system.
Kris, on the other hand, seemed wowed by her new “babysitter” as she’d disparagingly referred to the bodyguard before she’d met the guy.
Through a narrowed gaze, Gabe watched the cozy way she talked with the man. He was closer to Kris’s height than Gabe, he was smooth-talking, richly dressed and looked like some GQ ad. And his name, Donavan Cavanaugh. Sounded like a soap opera character. Ugh.
Charles Worthington pulled Gabe into the hall of their Beacon Hill home. Gabe positioned himself so he could keep an eye on Cavanaugh. Kris laughed at something the bodyguard said. Gabe’s gut clenched.
“So what do you think?” Charles asked.
Forcing his mind and his gaze to center on Kris’s father, Gabe contemplated demanding that Cavanaugh be sent away. But then he’d have to give a reason. Which he didn’t have. Not really. Unless he admitted to the jealousy twisting his insides.
He was jealous. The realization knocked the breath from his lungs. He’d never felt any emotion so powerful before. How could he be jealous?
Ridiculous. He didn’t do jealousy any more than he did love.
“He’ll do.” Gabe gave his stamp of approval in a terse tone. “I need to get back to the station. I have a stack of files to go through.”
Charles’s knowing smile only served to make Gabe more aware of how idiotic his feelings were. Good thing Kris hadn’t witnessed his momentary bout with the green-eyed monster.
Jealousy was not part of the job.
Kris liked her bodyguard. He had a nice sense of humor and a congenial way about him that put her at ease. If she’d had a brother, Donavan could have fit the bill.
But judging by the thunderous expression on Gabe’s face before he’d ducked into the hall with her father, she had the distinct impression Gabe wasn’t so thrilled with him.
Interesting. Especially since he’d been all for hiring help earlier today.
When her father reentered the living room sans Gabe, Kris excused herself from Don and went to her father’s side. “Where’s Gabe?”
“He had some pressing work,” her father replied.
She crinkled her nose. “He left? Without saying goodbye?”
The amused twinkle in her father’s eyes made Kris’s gaze narrow. “Why are you laughing at me?”
