Flashbacks to high school escapades momentarily clouded KC’s vision. She cleared her throat. “Yes.”
“So, who is Wi Hodges?”
Of course, Gabe had to share her searches with Coop. Tempted to walk out and never return, she held her bag tight. But then leaned back. What do I have to lose? “She’s my birth mother.”
Coop’s eyes almost bugged out of his face. If the situation wasn’t so serious, she would have grinned. He did look comical.
He thrust his chair backward and stood, looming over her like a menacing ogre.
Another flashback to their discussion at her parents’ home. Fighting ogres and trolls. This time, she couldn’t contain her smile.
“What’s so funny?”
Quickly sobering, she said, “Sorry. An inside joke.” Wrong thing to say.
His disapproving stare unnerved her. She ought to keep a wide roll of tape in her bag to seal her mouth.
“You could be in serious trouble, KC.” He returned to his chair and rocked. “Gabe contacted me at six thirty this morning. When I arrived, we reviewed all your computer activity from last night.”
What was taking him so long? “Please, don’t waffle on and on. Fire me already.”
The chair squeaked as he rocked.
KC clasped her hands to keep them from pounding his desk.
“As I was saying, we reviewed all your actions, but couldn’t find anything illegal or against company policy.”
Had she heard correctly? Keep your mouth shut, KC. Let him explain.
“Of course, I would have preferred you to ask permission first.”
“I did ask Gabe if I could stay.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.” His smile eased her anxiety. A tad. “Come on, KC. Work with me here. You’re not in trouble. At least as far as IRO is concerned.”
“I’m not?” She blew out a huge breath. Her stomach muscles relaxed almost immediately. “What about you? Will you still be my trainer?”
“Yes. But your actions disappointed me.”
His words were a slap to the face. KC inwardly recoiled and hung her head.
“I believe all your searches for this woman came up empty.” His words held a note of sympathy. “I have no idea what it’s like to be adopted, but I can see that you have a loving, supportive family. Why do you want to find your birth mother?”
Because George and Bear found theirs? No. Dig deep. Why? KC clutched her bag to her chest and closed her eyes. She couldn’t remember her mother’s full name, but she recalled every detail of the hospital waiting room. Bland green walls. The medicinal smell. Groaning from a man with a bloody hand. And a soft voice. “You stay here, Kitty. I have to go, but someone will come and help you soon.” She pinned a note to KC’s T-shirt and then disappeared.
Abandoned. Like an old ragdoll. She’d waited and waited. Until it was dark outside and then a nurse sat next to her.
KC opened her eyes. Coop had risen and squatted beside her. She had no intention of crying, but his nearness almost broke her resolve. “I want to know why she abandoned me in a hospital. Didn’t she love me? Was I a bad kid?” She sniffed and accepted the tissue he handed her. Tears threatened to fall, but she looked at the ceiling.
“Again, I have no idea what you experienced. Tell me about it.” He remained beside her.
KC related the little information she possessed, and then added, “I was in foster care for a year before William and Ellen adopted me. The agency had kept the note, and when I was diagnosed with cancer, I did contact them. I was curious about cancer in my family. But all they had was the note. Which by then, was crinkled and torn.”
Coop stood and leaned against the wall, arms folded.
Dabbing at her eyes, she chanced a glance at him. Inscrutable. She’d have to learn that skill. Come on, say something.
When he did speak, she wished he’d kept silent.
“Is that why you want to become an agent? To have access to our technical resources?”
What could she say? Nothing.
The blush of heat infusing her face gave him her answer.
14
The week and a half of undercover and surveillance training provided Cooper a deeper appreciation of KC’s skills. Was there nothing at which the woman didn’t excel? He should have realized that her experience in the movie world would have equipped her with an uncanny aptitude for undercover work, acting out a role.
Their last day of formal training from the handbook dawned cloudy and gray. Too bad. The weather never dictated agents’ agendas.
He found KC seated at the desk in her cubicle, family photographs the only décor. “I have an update from Edith Appleby. Mary is a positive match for Vince, and they’ll undergo the bone marrow transplant next week.”
“Great. Any news about the paintings?” she asked.
“No. We should leave confirming their authenticity up to Mary and Vince.”
“You’re probably right. What’s on the agenda for today?”
“Ready for one more chance to follow our hired suspect undetected?”
“Definitely. Yesterday I made the mistake of tailing too close. He didn’t spot me for ten blocks.” She grimaced.
“But he did see you. Today, we’re combining undercover and surveillance. Let’s head to the wardrobe department and choose a disguise.”
“Ooh. My favorite.” She locked her bag in the bottom desk drawer.
Following procedure, she’d probably stashed her driver’s license, credit card or cash, and phone in one of her ample pockets.
“How will we dress today?” She kept pace with him as they walked.
“I’ll leave that up to your imagination. As long as it’s not too outrageous. We’re using the same guy as yesterday. So he knows what we look like.” Cooper entered the wardrobe room catty-corner from the IT department. Seeing the acronym on the door reminded him of KC’s late-night search for her mom.
One peek at the sheepish look on her face, and he knew she recalled the incident, too.
At least she’d been honest and admitted that IRO’s resources attracted her to the agency. But her wholehearted participation in all the training since then, convinced him she wanted to complete the course.
Unbeknownst to her, he’d instructed Peter to continue the search for Wi Hodges.
He opened the door and stale tobacco odors hit him in the face. IRO was a no-smoking facility, but they kept spray cans of fake cigarette smoke on hand. Ah, yes. Jay and Lela, newly engaged, were on a case that required them to surveil a group of teens suspected of assaulting homeless people. What better way to blend in?
KC coughed. “Yuk. Hope we won’t have to use that stuff.”
“Me, too. OK. So what’s your choice?”
She fingered the numerous garments hanging on a rack. “Our guy will be expecting two operatives. One white, one black. It will be easier for you to put on makeup to darken your face.”
“Go on.”
“He’s seen my almost baldhead. I’ll wear a wig, take a scarf to wrap around my head, and a hat to change out. Also, a jacket to cover my shirt at times.”
“I like your plan.”
Grabbing a flimsy piece of fabric, she swirled it around her head, altering her appearance at once. “How’s this?”
“That’ll work. What about me?”
“Ditch your preppy style—”
“Preppy?”
She pointed a finger at him and waved it up and down. “You know, the khaki pants, tailored shirt. You need to get down and dirty.”
Had he made a mistake in allowing her to choose their disguises?
“I mean, dress like a biker. Tight blue jeans. Black T-shirt. Hair under a do-rag. Leather jacket.” She pulled one from a hanger and threw it at him. “Perfect. You can keep the cowboy boots.”
Not bad. Her choices made sense. “I’m game. And you’ll be my—” He stopped just in time. “I’ll slap on the makeup and duds and meet you at your cubicle in ten.”
~*~
At the end of the day, KC had notched up wins on five scenarios. Her only loss occurred an hour into their first assignment when she attempted to remove her hat and the wig came off, too. Cooper’s biker dude outfit and dark makeup, on the other hand, had completely fooled their suspect.
Debriefing in his office, she pooh-poohed her efforts. “I took off the hat too quickly. Next time, I’ll forget the wig. Or use that special glue I’ve heard about. But my own hair will be longer then, and—”
For the first time, he held up the stop sign.
She chuckled and folded her arms.
Her innocent expression almost caused him to burst out laughing but he maintained his composure. “You’ve completed all of our training components. From now on, your instruction will be hands-on, in the field. When you’ve accrued the required number of hours, you can apply to take the PI exam. As your trainer, I’ll recommend when your rookie status can be upgraded. You’ve broken many records set by former trainees, but I still see impulsiveness as an area of concern. Any questions?”
While he spoke, she fidgeted in the chair and blushed.
“Thank you, Coop. I’ve learned so much from you. And I agree with your assessment. My mom calls me a bulldozer. Rushing ahead without thinking first, trampling over people at times. I’ll take your advice to heart.”
Bulldozer. Yup, that described KC. He leaned back in the chair. “I don’t know about you, but I’m bushed. Go home and have a relaxing weekend. Who knows what assignments Bowen has in store for us next week?”
KC stood and wrung her hands.
Uh-oh. What now?
“I, um, would like to thank you for having faith in me. For not firing me that first day when I climbed the wall or after the computer fiasco.” Her hands stilled. “Can I take you out for supper tomorrow?”
Cooper’s first impulse was to decline. Why? She just wanted to express her appreciation. What harm could a simple meal together do? Intimate setting, candlelight maybe. Oops. He shoved his chair back. “I have another idea. Do you like fishing?”
She nodded and beamed. “You bet. But I seldom get the opportunity.”
“How about we meet at Shelter Island Pier, say ten o’clock tomorrow. We can—” Her dramatic transformation in demeanor halted his words. “Why so glum all of a sudden? Changed your mind?”
“Not exactly. I’ve never been fishing in the ocean. Only rivers.”
“Well, sure the pier is over saltwater, but the bay is usually calm, and we won’t even get our feet wet.”
Nibbling her bottom lip, she looked at him through her lashes. “OK, then. Of course, a pier would not be in the water. What was I thinking?”
“So it’s a go?”
She nodded although her smile lasted only a second.
“After we fish a while, we can catch a meal. No pun intended. Do you want me to supply a rod and tackle?”
“Yes, please. See you then.” She stopped at the door. “But I’m paying.”
The weekend before spring break. Crowded restaurant. No chance for Cooper to blur the lines between rookie and trainer.
15
A variety of colorful blouses and T-shirts decorated KC’s bedspread. What to wear? Short sleeves, long? Overcast skies promised cool temperatures.
Hands on hips, she stared at her choices. “Pick one already. It’s not a date.” Yeah. Why did she wake up with a song on her lips and a jittery feeling in her gut just as she had the first time her folks took her to an amusement park? She sank onto the bed. Corral those emotions. Don’t set yourself up for abandonment. Again. She slumped over, fisting her hands to her heart. Kevin’s desertion still hurt. He sure showed his true self by breaking off their engagement the day before her cancer surgery. No, she’d keep close tabs on any man she allowed into her life.
However…
She reached behind her and snagged a shirt.
…if she ever fell in love again, it would be with a guy much like Coop.
Dressed in blue jeans and a long-sleeved yellow blouse, KC grabbed the small over-the-shoulder tote that contained her essentials and ran to her car. Almost ten o’clock. Too much time spent on her apparel. And her past.
Hunting for a parking space at the pier took five minutes. Coop was probably wondering if she changed her mind. But she needn’t have worried. She spied him circling the area as well. They parked four spaces apart, albeit at the northeast end of the island. “Always be punctual for appointments,” she said in her best rendition of Coop’s voice. He didn’t know she often entertained family with her limited repertoire of impersonations. Not a job requirement, so more than likely he’d never find out.
Salty air engulfed her when she opened her door. KC took a deep breath and slapped her wide brimmed hat on her head. Cloudy or not, a day spent outside invited sunburn. “Morning. Good day for fishing.”
“Certainly is.” He adjusted his baseball cap.
She had never seen him wear a cap before. He wore it low, which made him look years younger.
“I brought a couple of poles for you to choose from. Come take a look.” Coop hoisted up the truck bed cover.
Truth be told, she couldn’t distinguish one type of pole from another. KC went fishing with her dad and brothers primarily for the camaraderie. She chose a rod with a blue grip. Naturally.
“Good choice.” He carried both poles and the tackle box. “Too bad we had to park so far away. Ready for a long trek?”
“Sure.” She kept pace with him. “Do you come here often?”
“The pier is convenient, but I prefer to fish on a deserted beach.”
“I can see how it would be more relaxing without the crowds.”
They walked past Shoreline Park where a handful of kids explored the playground equipment accompanied by excited yells and laughter. Seagulls squawked overhead.
KC pointed toward a group of people near the parallel bars all focused on an adult and child on the ground. “I wonder what’s going on?”
Coop turned. “Let’s see if we can help.”
Closer inspection revealed a well-built man administering CPR to a young boy. “What happened?” KC asked a woman standing nearby.
“He’s my ten-year-old nephew.” She wrapped one arm around her middle and nibbled a fingernail on her other hand. “Apparently a cord he was wearing around his neck got snagged on something. He’s unconscious. That’s his dad.” She indicated the man on his knees.
Coop set his fishing gear down and squatted beside the guy. “Has someone called an ambulance?”
“Yes.” The aunt checked her watch. “They should be here soon.”
Coop tapped the man on the shoulder. “I’m trained in CPR too. Let me know if you need a break.”
No reply, and KC didn’t expect one. The father of the skinny kid kept up compressions and breaths at a steady pace.
Coop stood, jaw clenched, and hands fisted.
Why had he backed away? “Please, dear Lord, save this child,” she whispered.
Minutes later, sirens signaled help at hand, and soon EMTs hurried along the sidewalk with a gurney.
“Move back, everyone. Give them room.” People parted at KC’s words.
One of the medics took over administering CPR, and the dad scooted out of the way. Worry lines creased his forehead as he kept his eyes on his son.
KC and Coop joined in the cheers when the boy finally took a breath on his own.
After the medics departed with the patient and his dad, and the crowd dwindled, KC admitted to herself she didn’t want to go fishing now. Trauma close to water. She squelched the memory and blew out a long breath. Would Coop understand? She glanced at him as he picked up his gear. Grim mouth, and a deep V between his eyes. Not what she expected. “Are you all right?” Previous decisions overruled, she placed her hand on his arm.
“No. Do you mind if we sit here for a w
hile?”
She jutted her chin to the left. “How about that bench?”
He set down the poles and box and then removed his cap. Color had drained from his face. Was he ill?
“We don’t have to stay. I won’t mind if we leave now.”
Still, he said nothing.
Taking the hint, she sat in silence. He’d tell her—
“What is it with ten-year-old kids and me?” Coop leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“I beg your pardon?” Strange words for sure.
“That boy was ten. I didn’t need to help him, but I have the experience and could have administered CPR.”
She sensed he had more to say and held her tongue.
“The day we met I’d just come from the airport. I prevented a girl from being abducted by her non-custodial father. A ten-year-old girl.”
There had to be more. His somber mood and flat tone seemed extreme for only two instances. KC broke her own rule again and rubbed his shoulder. “What else happened, Coop?”
Seconds passed, and then he straightened. “It’s a long story.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He twisted his cap and stared across the water. “When I was a kid growing up in Texas, we lived in the boonies, south of Lubbock. I had two close friends around my age, not counting Henry and Jennifer, my younger brother and sister. One day, Henry, my friends, and I rode our bikes for miles to a deserted old farmhouse. We’d often dared to ride that far.” His voice faltered. “How I wished we’d never set foot inside that place.”
Other than sit quietly, there wasn’t a whole lot KC could do to offer comfort. At least, not in a way that would be appropriate given their work relationship. So she did nothing.
“We explored every room, had a grand old time, until Henry found an ancient handgun. No one expected the rusted thing to be loaded, so we passed it around, and pretended to fire at different objects.” A big breath. Coop kept his focus on the water.
“When Isaac took his turn, he aimed at Roy, pulled the trigger, and…” Coop wiped a hand across his face and looked at her. “The bullet hit Roy in the chest. He died instantly.”
Forget proprieties. KC latched on to Coop’s hand. “And you blame yourself?”
Justice at Dawn Page 7