Kansas City Countdown

by Julie Miller

  “No license, no insurance card, no idea of where we’re heading?”

  Her concern over dangerous driving fatigue seemed to ease with the teasing repartee. “Well, I know we’re in Kansas City.”

  “Lucky guess.”

  She smiled at that, then winced just as quickly. When she touched her fingertips to the line of stitches along her jaw, he suspected the anesthesia the doctor had used on her was wearing off. She had to be in discomfort if not outright pain.

  He was on the verge of asking if they needed to stop for aspirin or ice packs when she leaned forward and pointed out his window to the pink haze on the horizon. “And I know we’re heading south because that’s the sun coming up.”

  “Okay, so you do remember a thing or two.”

  “I remind you that I have partial amnesia, not a case of the stupids.”

  It was Keir’s turn to relax his concern. “No, ma’am.”

  “Ma’am?” She groaned. “That makes me feel old. My passport says I’m only thirty-eight. How old are you?”

  He liked the only distinction she put on her age. “Thirty-three. And a half,” he added, just to get a rise out of her.

  Kenna laughed and swatted him on the shoulder. “That’s terrible, Junior. Are you always this obnoxious?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Well, it works for you.” The laughter faded as another mile passed and she leaned back against the headrest. “Why do I get the feeling my house is way out of your way? Hellie gave me the entry codes for the gate and front door, told me how to reset them once we’re inside. But what if the codes don’t work or you discover something suspicious? Your late night is going to turn into a long day and I’ve already taken advantage of your kindness and sense of duty and...”

  Was she thinking about how long they’d stood in each other’s arms at the hospital, too? “We’ve had this discussion. Driving you home is not a problem.”

  She rolled her head to face him and winked. “Must have forgotten that.”

  Keir shook his head, grinning at her ability to handle all this with humor and class. “Now who’s obnoxious?” The distinctive growl of her stomach rumbling triggered a gnawing echo inside his own belly. “Hungry?”

  “I think I had a dinner meeting scheduled last night. But I don’t know if I ever made it to the meeting, or if I ate anything. I couldn’t even think about food in the hospital.” She flattened her hand over her noisy stomach. “I’d kill for a cup of coffee, at least. Maybe we could stop at a coffee shop before we get to my house?”

  Trouble reared its head again and Keir didn’t resist. He needed a distraction, and so did she.

  “I’ve got a better idea. Time for a detour.” Keir eyed the cars and semitrucks behind him and pulled over three lanes to catch the next exit.

  “What are you up to?” she asked.

  Once he’d circled around into slower traffic, he pulled out his phone and punched in one of his favorite numbers. “I’m starving. You need caffeine.” Keir had loved his mother, his sister, Sophie Collins and one other woman in his life. When the woman who had raised him and still kept house for his father and grandfather answered the phone, he couldn’t help smiling. “Hey. How’s my favorite girl in the whole wide world?”

  “Keir?” He’d always loved Millie Leighter’s laugh. “What are you up to this morning?”

  “Millie, my love. Have you got a pot of coffee going already?”

  Across the seat, Kenna whispered, “You’re inviting me to breakfast with your girlfriend?”

  “Not exactly.” He turned his attention back to Millie. “I’m just coming off an all-nighter, woman, and I’m hungry for your home cookin’. I’ve got a guest with me, too. Is that all right?”

  “Is it Hudson?” From the moment Keir had first introduced them, Millie seemed to think his bachelor partner needed a little mothering and fattening up. The fact that Hud ate up all the attention only added to her infatuation with the man.

  “Not this time.” He laughed. “But I’m sure he’d take a rain check.”

  “You know there’s always room at this table for you and your friends. The more the merrier. But I warn you, your oldest brother came home late last night to hash something out with your father. And Seamus is in a cantankerous mood this morning. I don’t think his physical therapy went well.”

  Curious, that Duff had spent the night at the house where they’d grown up instead of in his own apartment. And when wasn’t his grandfather at odds with someone or something anymore? “I’ll risk it. See you in a few minutes.”

  It didn’t occur to Keir to ask Kenna if she was up for meeting a good part of his family until he’d pulled into the driveway behind Duff’s truck and was escorting her up the stairs to the brick porch. “I hope this is okay. The Watsons can get a little boisterous when there’s more than one of us in the room, but I promise we’re a casual kind of bunch. The food will fill you up and you won’t find a better cup of coffee anywhere.”

  Kenna finger-combed her hair over the injuries on her face and nodded. “I’m sold.”

  He caught her hand before she lowered it and offered a squeeze of reassurance. “You don’t have to hide those. Dad raised three boys and a tomboy—we’re used to seeing stitches and war wounds.”

  Her fingers tightened around his. “Thanks. But that’s not exactly what I’m nervous about. I haven’t met any of them before, have I?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Good. Then I’m starting with a clean slate. I may not make the best first impression, but at least they don’t know any more about me than I do them.”

  A level playing field wasn’t too much for a woman with amnesia to ask for, he supposed. But he couldn’t imagine her not impressing anyone with her tall, confident posture and those beautiful, starlit eyes. He squeezed her hand one more time before releasing her to open the storm door. “You’ll be fine.”

  He knocked on the inside door, triggering the excited barking of a dog, before pushing it open and inviting Kenna inside.

  A dark brown dog, the size of a small tank, skidded around the corner on the wood floor and collided with Kenna’s foot. “Oh. Hello.”

  “Look out,” Keir warned. The dog righted herself, then rose on her haunches to meet the new visitor. “Ruby, down. Sorry about that.”

  Kenna pushed the Lab mix down into a sit position and held her fist to the dog’s nose for sniffing and licking, making an instant friend. “That’s okay. What is she? A chocolate Lab?”

  “She’s something all right. Dad rescued her from the Humane Society. Ruby’s half Lab, half mystery beast and half spoiled rotten.”

  “That’s one and a half dogs.” Correctly assessing that this was no kind of guard dog, Kenna scratched around the big galoot’s furry ears. “Pretty impressive pedigree, Miss Ruby.”

  Duff Watson sauntered out of the living room, eating a cinnamon roll that smelled as if it was still warm from the oven, and Ruby immediately changed allegiance to the human with the food. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

  Millie hollered from the kitchen at the back of the sprawling two-story Colonial. “Thomas Watson, Jr., don’t you be dropping crumbs in my clean house. And do not feed that dog.”

  “You’re in trouble, big guy,” Keir teased. “She used your real name.”

  Duff popped the last of the roll into his mouth and held up ten fingers to show empty hands. “What’s she talking about? I didn’t take any food out of the kitchen.” He eyed Kenna, lingering a moment on her face before turning back to Keir. “You brought company.”

  “This is Kenna Parker. My oldest brother, Duff.”

  “I know who you are.” After wiping his fingers on the front of his chest-hugging T-shirt, Duff extended his hand to Kenna. “Nice to meet you.” Then he seemed to quickly dismiss her as
he backed away toward the kitchen. “Millie baked fresh rolls this morning, baby bro. First come, first served.” He patted his thigh for the dog to follow him. “Come on, mutt.”

  Once Duff and Ruby had turned the corner into the kitchen, Kenna leaned over and whispered, “I thought you said none of your family knew me.”

  “Yeah.” Keir scraped his fingers over the stubble on his jaw. “Maybe I didn’t think this through. Even if you haven’t met, they know you by name and reputation. Duff’s a cop, too. My grandpa is retired KCPD and Dad works as an investigative consultant for the department.”

  “I see. And I’m Enemy Number One to every Kansas City cop?”

  Not every cop.

  “Son.” Keir didn’t get to respond as his father came down the stairs. This time of the morning, before he’d been on his bum leg for too long, his limp was barely noticeable. “Millie said you’d called.” He pulled Keir in for a hug before stepping back to shake Kenna’s hand. “I’m Thomas Watson. Welcome.”

  “Thank you. I hope I’m not imposing, sir.”

  “Thomas,” he corrected with a smile, then invited them to follow him down the hallway to the kitchen. “We’ve got a full house this morning. Saturday usually means a big breakfast around here, which means one or more of the offspring tends to show up. Come on in and I’ll introduce you to everyone.” He nodded to the silver-haired woman stirring eggs on the big, six-burner stove. “Good morning, Millie. Coffee ready?”

  “Of course.” She turned off the burner and wiped her hands on her blue apron that read If You Can’t Stand the Heat, Get Out of the Kitchen and reached for Keir. He willingly wrapped her plump figure up in a hug. “There’s my favorite boy.”

  Duff came up behind her. “I thought I was your favorite.”

  “I saw you share that piece of bacon with the dog, so you’re on my naughty list. Now go sit down before you eat us out of house and home, and I’ll put the food on the table so we can eat like civilized people.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Duff planted a kiss on Millie’s cheek and reached around her to steal another strip of bacon.

  Duff was twice the older woman’s size, but she swatted his hand and shooed him out into the dining area before turning to Keir again. She reached up to cup his unshaven cheek. “Where’s my handsome boy? You’re scruffy this morning. You look like you haven’t slept a wink.”

  “I haven’t. Spent the night in the ER with Kenna.”

  Millie smoothed his wrinkled lapels, and her smile faded. “What’s this? Blood?”

  “Relax, it’s not mine.”

  But in Millie’s mind this was an emergency and she would handle it. She patted the crimson marks before pushing the jacket off his shoulders. “Take this off and let me spot-clean it before the stains set.”

  “Millie—”

  “Come on, now. I insist.”

  “All right.” Keir shrugged out of the jacket and handed it to the older woman. But as soon as she stepped toward the sink, he helped himself to a strip of bacon, too.

  “Oh, you.”

  He grinned when she shooed him away from the counter, too.

  “Your big brother is a bad influence on you. I need Niall here to keep the peace.”

  Keir had a feeling the middle Watson son wouldn’t be interested in refereeing his brothers’ misbehavior anytime soon. He grinned at the thought of his quiet, brainy brother, a medical examiner with the crime lab who’d been occupied the past few months learning a whole new set of skills as father and husband-to-be. Who’d have thought that Dr. Niall would be the first Watson brother to be getting married? Keir had always thought that Niall had the emotional range of a lamppost. But after saving his sweet, feisty neighbor and the baby boy she fostered from a ruthless killer, Niall hadn’t just fallen—he’d fallen hard for Lucy McKane. Thank goodness he’d been smart enough to propose. Keir had a feeling there weren’t two people on the planet who needed each other more than Niall and Lucy did.

  Yep. Keir might have the moves with the ladies. But Niall had the luck. If Keir didn’t like Lucy so much himself, he’d be jealous. “Niall is probably up to his eyeballs in diapers and wedding plans.”

  Millie folded the jacket over the crook of her elbow and clapped her hands together. “That reminds me, I promised Lucy and Niall that I’d be over to their place to babysit Tommy later this morning while they go to the mall and start registering for wedding gifts. So we’d better get this meal on the table.” She reached for Kenna’s hand even before introductions were made. “Where are my manners? You must be Keir’s friend Kenna. How are you feeling, dear?”

  “I’ve had better nights.” She matched the older woman’s smile. “But my mood is picking up already. It smells wonderful in here.”

  “I’m Millie. I run this household.”

  “I can see that. Thank you for adding one more. May I help you carry food to the table?”

  “Nonsense. After a trip through the ER? You need to sit down and relax.” Millie poured a mug of coffee and pushed it into Kenna’s hands as if she thought their guest could use a little mothering, too. She set the platter full of bacon in Keir’s hands and nudged him toward the kitchen island and the dining area beyond. “Cream and sugar’s on the table. Grab the eggs and take Kenna in there and introduce her to your grandfather while I take this to the laundry room.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Keir led Kenna into the dining area and set the platter and bowl of scrambled eggs on one end of the long oak table. “Good morning, Jane. Grandpa.” He nodded to the nurse in green scrubs with a short brown ponytail helping his white-haired grandfather reach his chair with his walker. It was good to see the family patriarch on his feet and moving, albeit slowly, under his own power. Up until a few weeks ago, he’d still been relying on a wheelchair after the brain damage from being shot had resulted in a massive stroke that had paralyzed his entire left side. Keir circled behind Kenna to pull out a chair for his grandfather and help him position himself while the nurse steadied the walker. “Kenna, this is Jane Boyle, Grandpa’s live-in nurse. And this handsome old fart is Seamus Watson.”

  His grandfather groaned at the introduction and angled his rheumy blue gaze up at Keir while the two women exchanged a polite greeting.

  Kenna nodded. “How do you do, Mr. Watson?”

  “Say-moof,” Grandpa insisted, his half-limp mouth curving into a shadow of his once robust smile. Despite his somewhat labored breathing from the exertion of walking to the table from his room at the back of the house, he planted himself securely beside his chair and held on to Keir’s arm while he extended a hand to Kenna.

  Without batting an eye at his slurred articulation or questioning what he was trying to say, Kenna quickly set down her coffee and reached out to take his hand between both of hers. “Seamus.” She frowned at the scar that bisected the buzz cut of white hair along the side of his head. “Looks like you and I both have some battle scars.”

  Seamus’s blue eyes crinkled and he released her to point a bony finger at her. “You pwettier.”

  Even in his fragile condition, the man could flirt. Kenna responded by tucking a feathered lock of hair behind her ear and returning the older man’s crooked smile—either feeling more comfortable exposing her wounds now or putting them on display in a silent show of compassion for the injuries his grandfather couldn’t hide. Keir felt an unexpected twist of appreciation and admiration in his gut, and found his hand sliding to the small of Kenna’s back and lingering as he guided her into the seat next to Seamus.

  The more time he spent with Kenna, the harder it was to remember just how resentful of her he’d been twenty-four hours earlier. But then, that was the Terminator with her smug confidence and razor-sharp intellect who’d burned him in court. This Kenna Parker was softer, warmer and dangerously attractive to Keir’s bored libido.

  When the rest of the f
ood arrived, Keir realized his fingers were still splayed against the warmth of her back, and he quickly pulled his hand away to take his seat. Maybe some food in his empty stomach would send energy to his weary brain and clarify his wandering thoughts. He was probably confusing compassion, or maybe even gratitude at the way Kenna was engaging his grandfather this morning, with attraction. This was not a thing happening between them. He was a cop helping an injured woman, performing his sworn duty, doing what was necessary to safeguard a victim and stay with her long enough to hopefully come up with some sort of lead on the investigation into her attack. A cop and a criminal defense attorney? It wasn’t like there was any real chance of a relationship happening between them anyway.

  Once they were all seated, Thomas said grace and then Keir focused on filling his belly with Millie’s home cooking and catching up on all the family news, mostly about his brother Niall’s pending nuptials and adoption of the baby his fiancée, Lucy, was the legal guardian for. Despite the lively chatter, and Duff’s moaning and groaning about being measured for another monkey suit and tie, Keir was aware of Jane Boyle being curiously quiet.

  The thirtysomething nurse was probably about Kenna’s age, although she didn’t seem eager to elaborate on any of the polite questions Kenna asked in an effort to get acquainted. In between helping Seamus use a spoon for his eggs and encouraging him to pick up the bacon with his less dominant hand, Jane seemed to be disengaged this morning. She answered politely when spoken to but then drifted away into her thoughts and picked at her plate. And more than once, she pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her scrub jacket and checked it beneath the edge of the table.

  Keir glanced down to the head of the table. His father had noticed Jane’s withdrawal from the conversation, too. In fact, judging by the scowl lining his expression, Thomas Watson was downright irritated with the nurse. Had the two butted heads again over who was in charge of caring for Seamus and overseeing his rehabilitation? Or was something else creating tension here at the Watson household?

  Keir’s self-reproach and his speculation about his father were both put on hold when Millie pushed her chair away from the table. “I need to get going. Since you boys are home, I’m putting you in charge of the dishes.”