"Hi," Maya said. She blushed and looked down at her patent-leather Mary Janes. Alexa could honestly say she'd never seen her niece at a loss for words.
"Braden is ready for a snack, dear heart. Would you go to the small refrigerator and bring him a milk?"
"Sure."
When Maya dashed off to the other side of the room, Braden followed her with his gaze. There was a certain longing in his look that almost broke Alexa's heart. Did he yearn for friendship or just release from the burdens that seemed to weigh down his thin little shoulders?
"Why don't you sit here, Braden?" she suggested, pulling out a small, plastic chair.
Braden sat down.
Alexa put the flash cards that she'd found in his backpack near the middle of the table; then she walked to the kitchen area for a cookie and a napkin. When she returned, Maya was sitting beside him, chattering away.
"Auntie Alexa, that's Miss Alexa to you, used to be sorta...um...not fat, exactly, but not as skinny as she is today. She also danced a lot because she's a Gypsy, like me. And when she was young she heard some boy cousins giggling and laughing about her size. They called her a dancing hippo. She thought that was sooo funny that she promised herself if she ever had a business, she'd use that name. Cool, huh?"
Alexa hadn't realized Maya knew the story behind the preschool's name. Not that she cared. She had been quite a bit more...voluptuous back in her teens and early twenties than she was now. Her hospitalization had melted off the pounds, not that she'd ever recommend near death as a weight-reduction program.
She'd also cut her waist-length hair at about the same time. Teaching preschool was all about simplicity.
She was a little surprised Mark hadn't commented on the changes he must have noticed about her. But then, his main concern was his son.
And rightly so, she decided half an hour later after a futile attempt to get Braden to work with her using the flash cards. If the speech therapist isn’t having any luck, what made me think I could break through the little boy's wall of resistance?
Deciding they both needed a diversion, she said, "Braden, I think we need some fresh air."
Maya and the twenty-five children from both the day care and preschool usually spent the last half hour of the day outside, weather permitting. Today, the sky was a watery blue with high, thin wisps of clouds. Luckily, the breeze was mild.
Over the years, she'd slowly added a variety of swings, slides, sandboxes and climbing platforms to her play yard. The children learned the rules very quickly or they weren’t allowed on the equipment. She was pleased to see how cooperative they were being today.
Maya and her group of friends, which included Gregor's daughter, Gemilla, were patiently waiting a turn on the suspension bridge. Three boys—all four-year-olds—were playing pirate, battling over who was boss.
Alexa let the play continue for another minute, but she could sense the little girls' growing frustration as the boys ignored their request to share the large wooden structure. She felt her new miniature shadow follow behind as she approached.
“Okay, boys, time to let the girls have a turn."
Two of the children jumped down into the sandy area below, but the third—William Moorehouse—balked. "I'm king of the pirates. You can't tell me what to do."
"Sorry, William, but I'm commander of the play yard and even pirates have to follow my rules. Hop down."
He crossed his arms. "No."
Inwardly, Alexa groaned. Seldom had a day passed without some sort of challenge from William.. .or his mother.
"William," another voice said sharply.
The child lost his bluster as his mother approached. "Get down as your teacher asked. We talked about following orders, remember?" To Alexa, Roberta Moorehouse said, "He's at that challenge-authority stage of life."
Her son still hadn't moved, so Alexa walked up to him and looked him directly in the eye. "William, it's time to get down, so the girls have a chance to play on the bridge. Can you get down by yourself, or do you need my help?"
He looked at Roberta, first, then mumbled something Alexa couldn't quite catch and scrambled down the rope steps, knocking into Maya and her friends as he passed by. Before Alexa could follow and talk to him about good manners, Roberta exclaimed, "We have a new student. Hello, there. Aren't you a doll? How old are you, sweetie? Five?"
Braden drew back, his eyes wide with apprehension. Alexa had no choice but to rescue him rather than follow through with William. She stepped between Braden and Roberta and said, "I plan to introduce Braden slowly so we don't overwhelm him. He's going to be joining my after-school program. He's in first grade."
Roberta had the good graces to look embarrassed by her gaffe. Before she could apologize—and probably humiliate Braden even more—Maya flew to the rescue.
The little girl launched herself from the top of the jungle gym. Fortunately, Alexa was close enough to catch her, so the child made a soft landing, then Maya stepped beside Braden and put her arm around his shoulders. "He's my friend. You better be nice to him."
Roberta was obviously at a loss for words.
Braden appeared shocked, too, but he didn't push Maya away. In fact, his expression turned soft. Alexa wondered if maybe he was a little in love.
Before she could say anything, Alexa heard a shout and saw William standing over another student who was on his back on the grass. Roberta let out a loud, "William," saving Alexa the trouble. To Maya, Alexa said, "You're Braden's official buddy, okay? Show him around while I take care of this."
Two hours later, the last of her regular students had been picked up. Only Maya, Braden, Luca and Gemilla remained. Gregor had called to warn her that he would be late. Mark had called, too, to see how Braden was doing. Mark was due at any moment. As soon as he and Braden left, Alexa would walk the three cousins to Yetta's where they'd have dinner and hang out until their parents showed up.
"Mom's watching Maya tonight so Rob and I can go out on a date. Our first since the wedding, I swear," Kate had told her that morning. "She's making soup and said you're invited."
Alexa tidied up her desk then walked to the table where the children were sitting. Maya and Gemilla were coloring. Luca was scrunched down, his attention focused on a handheld game. Braden appeared to be doing nothing, but as she watched him, she saw that he was actually paying close attention to the other children.
As if sensing his scrutiny, Maya looked up and smiled at him. "You're a nice boy," she said. "I like you." Braden's gaze dropped.
Gemilla picked up a fat red crayon. She was rounder and less petite than Maya. Her wispy hair was just as dark, but cut short to give her a pixie look. Alexa knew that Gemilla secretly coveted Maya's long curls.
"I like your hair," Gemilla said.
Maya shook her head to make the pigtails that were resting slightly cock-eyed atop her head dance. "Rob did it for me. He bought me a book on braids, but that didn't work out."
Gemilla tilted her head. ”How come?"
"Because my hair has a mind of its own," Maya said, in a put-upon tone that probably parroted her stepfather's.
"Oh.”
"Well, braids or not, I think this is a very attractive style for you, and I give Rob credit for trying," Alexa put in, as she pulled up a chair.
Maya look at her aunt. “That's what Mommy said, too. I saw a picture of you when your hair was long like mine. Why did you cut it off?'
Not by choice. A reaction to one of the antibiotics they'd given her in the hospital had made her hair turn brittle and start to break. Plus, she'd been too weak to brush and care for the waist-length locks, so she'd let her mother cut it.
"Because I was ready for a change. Sometimes change can be a bit scary, even though it turns out well," Alexa said, recalling her sister's concern about Maya's resistance to going to a new school.
Maya reached up and brushed a wavy black lock out of Alexa's eyes. "You're still very beautiful, even without my kind of hair," the little girl said.
&
nbsp; "She's right," a deep, masculine voice said.
Everyone at the table, including Alexa, startled. She couldn't believe Mark had slipped in without her hearing. What kind of secure environment is that for his child?
She jumped to her feet. "How did you—?"
"It's a cop thing. The door was unlocked and you were all so intent... " He shrugged. "Sorry if I scared you."
Alexa struggled to find her inner balance. She'd never be able to let Braden stay if she acted like a teenage girl in love every time his father showed up. "No problem. I just don't want you to think our security is lax. Strangers can't just waltz in here and take a child."
He nodded. "I'm sure it's very safe. But if you ever want me to double-check, just ask. In fact, I read in your handbook that you give a discount to parents who volunteer, and I'm all for saving money. If there's anything I can do after hours, let me know."
After hours. The offer was tempting. Last night, she'd spent three hours studying potential sperm donors and none seemed as qualified as Mark. Of course, that wasn't what he had in mind.
"Um, thanks. I'll think about it."
To Braden, she said, "Would you like me to help you get your coat and backpack?"
"I'll help him," Maya said. "Come on, Braden."
The little boy stood up and followed her toward the cloakroom without hesitation.
"Wow," Mark said softly. "I've never seen him actually interact with another kid before. That's great, Alexa. How'd he do with his flash cards?"
She'd already picked them up and put them in the box they'd come in. "Not so good. He wasn't interested, and I didn't want to push him. Not on his first day in a new place. But we'll work out a routine soon enough. How was your day?"
His handsome face changed. Still handsome, but not as friendly and open. "Something's come up at work. Not good. I'll keep you posted as it unfolds. I might actually need... well, I’ll talk to you more when I know something."
She wondered if he was being given a different shift and might need her to watch Braden on weekends. On rare occasions she babysat Gregor's kids. And Maya was always welcome to stay. But Alexa had a rule about not watching her students outside of regular business hours.
Braden and Maya returned a moment later, and Alexa introduced Mark to the children. "Gemilla, Maya, Luca, this is Mr. Gaylord. He's an investigator with the fire department. He finds people who set fires on purpose." She made sure Luca shook hands with Mark.
To Mark, she said, "Sometimes, parents come in and talk to the children about their jobs. Would you be interested?"
"Maybe," he said. "We'll see."
Alexa was a little surprised by his vacillation. Mark had always been enthusiastic about his work, but she let the matter go as he helped his son into his coat.
Maya took Alexa 's hand as they followed father and son to the door. "Night, Braden. See you tomorrow."
"Bye, Braden. Sweet dreams." Maya waved her free hand.
Both Gaylords seemed anxious to leave, so Alexa closed the door behind them and looked at her niece. "Why did you wish him sweet dreams? He won't be going to bed for hours yet."
"Because he's sad, and sometimes bad things happen in his dreams."
"Did he tell you that?"
Maya shook her head. "Auntie, he doesn't talk."
The simple truth made Alexa blush. "I know. Then how...?'' She didn't finish the question. The family generally accepted the fact that Maya knew things. She was bright and intuitive and seemed to read people the way the average person read a newspaper. But still... "He has bad dreams?”
Maya nodded.
"Does his dad know?"
The little girl shrugged. "You could ask him. He can talk."
Another simple truth. And Alexa would. Tomorrow.
Mark drove straight from Alexa's to Zeke's. The man's older three-bedroom home was only a few miles from the Parlier compound. Handy for a man who was doing his best to date the matriarch of the Romani clan.
He tapped his horn as he pulled into the driveway. Turning to look at Braden in the backseat, Mark said, “There's a Happy Meal in the bag on the floor. You can dig in while Zeke and I talk. We're going to be right outside the car. Okay?”
To his surprise, Braden acknowledged his father's question with a nod before leaning down to pick up the paper bag adorned with golden arches. Mark felt guilty about how often he fed his son fast food. He wasn't a great cook, but he could do better than this—if today hadn't been a slide into hell.
A flash of movement alerted him to Zeke's presence and he got out of the car. The wind had turned cold. He wished he had the wool scarf Alexa had given him their first Christmas together. Too bad his jealous ex-wife had burned it in the fireplace of the apartment they'd moved into after their quickie wedding.
“Thanks for meeting me," he said, shaking Zeke's hand. Zeke hadn't changed in all the years Mark had known him. A little more gray, of course, but still as lean and unflappable as ever.
"No problem. I'm headed back the way you just came as soon as we're done here. So, what's going on?"
Mark groaned. "Hell, I thought you could tell me. All I'm getting from Rubio is that I'm a person of interest." Reuben Rubio was the head of Mark's department. "And that Internal Affairs is looking into the case."
"I have a buddy in I.A. I'll give him a call. You don't know anything about this supposed bomb?"
Mark shook his head. "First I heard about the fire was when Tracey's neighbor called and said Tracey's mom was there and she planned to take Braden.” He’d rushed over to ex-wife’s place and had arrived before Braden's grandmother was done looting Tracey's apartment, but the argument that had ensued had left Braden terrified and borderline hysterical. Apparently, someone had told the little boy his mother was never coming back for him.
'Tracey's mother pretty well cleaned out the place before I even realized she had a key. Was Tracey using? I don't know. She never sounded like it when we talked on the phone, but you know how good she was about covering up."
"Did you ask her mother?"
Mark laughed, his tone bitter. "Odessa would never say anything that might help clear me. She probably thinks if I take the fall for Tracey's death, she'll get custody of Braden." Over my dead body.
Mark blamed Tracey's mother for the majority of her daughter's problems. A selfish, scheming, manipulative scam artist, Odessa Mapes had used Tracey any way that benefited Odessa—right down to letting a "professional" photographer shoot pictures of the little girl nude.
"It's not like I let a bunch of perverts touch her," Odessa had once said, defending her actions.
Zeke pulled a small notebook from the vest pocket of his jacket and scribbled something. "You probably could have looked at the file before this accusation. Now, you're persona non grata where anything about your wife is concerned, so my advice is do your job and let the investigators do theirs."
Mark nodded. He believed in justice, but he also knew that valuable clues could be lost over months. This case hadn't initially been investigated as a homicide. If they reopened it now, the opportunity to prove his innocence might be harder to come by.
Alexa wasn’t in the mood for a family dinner, but getting out of her mother's kitchen was never easy. Roms liked to eat. And Yetta, like most Romani mothers, loved to feed people.
"It's a new recipe. Jo gave it to me. You have to try a bowl," Yetta said as she helped Maya and Gemilla hang up their jackets. Luca had already disappeared into the living room. Alexa could hear the sound of the television come on.
"Zeke's joining us," her mother added.
Zeke. Her mother's undeclared beau. Also the man who probably knew Mark best. Alexa had heard about Zeke Martini long before she'd ever met him. Mark had called him his mentor. She couldn't believe she'd blanked out the connection between Zeke and Mark for so long. In the months that Zeke had been involved in her family's affairs, he and Alexa had never once spoken of Mark. Proof, she'd hoped, that she'd moved on where Mark was concerned.
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"Okay. One bowl of soup. It'll save messing up my kitchen." Which was a lie, of course. Although she had every intention of eating healthy balanced meals to help prepare her body for pregnancy, the truth was by the end of the day she didn't care whether she ate or not. Which was another reason she no longer resembled her namesake, the hippo.
Zeke showed up fifteen minutes later. Alexa watched the silver-haired cop enter the room after a light knock. Her mother's face lit up when she saw him, and she even gave a girlish giggle to his peck on her cheek.
Alexa was glad to see her mother reengaged in life. She would always miss her father, but life was moving along. Her mother had a right to be happy, to feel loved and desired. So did Alexa, although she'd pretty much given up on the desire part. But love...yes, a baby to love. That would be a good thing.
"How's Mark's little boy doing, Alexa?” Zeke asked after everyone was settled around the table.
The question surprised her. Zeke usually watched and observed, but he rarely asked direct questions of her or her sisters. "Hard to say. Today was his first day. But he seemed pretty comfortable. Didn't you think so, Luca?"
The boy shrugged. "He doesn't talk. So who knows?"
Knowing Luca's antipathy for law enforcement, Alexa had been worried about how he'd do at the same table as Zeke. So far, so good. No angry glares. She took a spoonful of soup. A mélange of flavors that included jalapeño exploded in her mouth.
"Wow, this is great, Mom."
"Sweet-potato bisque with Portuguese sausage and peppers," Yetta said. "I made the children's portion without the hot peppers."
Everyone ate in a companionable silence until Maya said, "Braden's daddy likes you, Aunt Alexa."
Alexa's spoon froze partway to her lips. She glanced around, hoping no one else had heard Maya's declaration.
No such luck, she decided seeing her mother and Zeke exchange a look.
She finished her spoonful then said, "Braden's father and I used to be good friends. But then he married Braden's mommy, and we didn't see each other for a long time.
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