Her Detective's Secret Intent

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “I dunno.”

  “He wants to see you, Ethan. He really likes you.”

  When Ethan looked at her, she could see tears in his eyes. “Then why didn’t he notice me?”

  “Did you ever think about asking him? You say you want to be his friend, but what kind of friend just gets mad and cuts you off without at least asking you about what hurt him?”

  She had to text Tad. Give him a heads-up. Maybe sort this one out between the two of them before he arrived for dinner.

  Telling Ethan the truth—that Danny was a victim of domestic violence, that his own father had threatened to kill Danny’s mother and had tried to force Danny to leave with him, that Tad was on the team that was protecting him—was out.

  Shouldn’t be such a hard thing, lying to her son, with her whole life built on lies. And it still made her sick.

  * * *

  Tad wasn’t afraid of storming into an office to face a man with a loaded gun. Didn’t think twice about knocking down a door behind which men were waiting with weapons. He’d faced off against an assailant who had a bomb.

  And he put off calling Miranda’s father until Thursday afternoon. A lot could happen between Tuesday and Thursday. No point in borrowing trouble.

  A couple of hours before he was supposed to show up for dinner, he was looking forward to the evening so much he knew trouble had arrived.

  Pacing between the sock drawer in his bedroom and the living area of his small quarters, he gazed out at the ocean in the distance, listening to the ring on the other end of the line. Two and then three rings, although the chief always picked up on the first.

  On Fridays, he expected Tad’s call.

  Figuring he was going to voice mail, knowing he couldn’t leave a message, Tad shoved a hand into the pocket of his jeans—the black ones again—and repeatedly flexed his injured thigh muscle. Focusing on the exercise. Counting the squeezes.

  “Is there a problem?”

  To date the man had always answered his phone “Chief O’Connor.” Every time.

  “No.”

  “I was in a meeting.”

  “I’m sorry, sir.” He didn’t like feeling chastised and considered hanging up.

  Let the chief wait until the next day to hear from him at their usual time.

  “No. No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I apologize. When I saw the number come up I got a bit tense. It’s difficult not being able to handle this myself. To be there if there’s an emergency. Please, forgive me.”

  Defenses immediately lowered, replaced by the respect the chief had earned from Tad, he walked out to his balcony, feeling a chill in the April air. The sun would be warm. It wasn’t shining on his side of the building. He got the morning sun.

  “I apologize for the unplanned contact,” he said now. “I have a situation I need to run by you. Probably should’ve done that before now. I have a...meeting tonight and if you’d rather I didn’t go, I need you to tell me.”

  “I told you before—you have free rein there. Whatever it takes to keep them in sight. To keep me apprised of their activities. To keep them safe.”

  “Your daughter and her son are befriending me.”

  “Good! Better than good. That’s great. I couldn’t have hoped for better.” At his superior’s enthusiasm, Tad squirmed. “The more inside you can get with them, the better you’ll be able to protect them on the off chance that some of her ex’s family is a danger to us. Or if she gets spooked and runs again.”

  “About that, sir. Have you actually found his family? Do we know if they pose a danger?”

  “Some of them have been located. Others haven’t. At least one, a brother, could pose a potential danger. We need to keep things status quo for now.”

  “If you give me the man’s name, I can do some checking from here. It’s what I do best. Investigate. Find clues. Put pieces together. Track down what others can’t find. I’ve got the time.”

  “I appreciate your willingness, Newberry. I’ve got someone else, equally capable, working on this.”

  Yeah, the chief’s eggs-in-different-baskets philosophy was frustrating the hell out of him.

  And would be, even if he wasn’t dangerously close to getting personally involved in this one.

  “The thing is, sir, Miranda... Dana...has given some indication that there could be interest in a liaison between the two of us. I need you to know that I’m... I care about her. She’s everything you’d want her to be and more.”

  A lot like the chief in terms of selflessly offering help to others. The way, for instance, she’d given Marie her phone number, telling the struggling woman to call day or night...

  “Fine. That’s fine, Detective. Your honesty serves you well. I’ve been following your IA review, and your integrity has come through loud and clear. Whether you resume your position with your current department or not, the state of North Carolina will definitely have a place for you at the end of your sabbatical.”

  But this wasn’t about him. About his future. Though, maybe for some, it would be.

  “They’ve invited me to have dinner in their home tonight.” In their home. Just the three of them.

  “I couldn’t be more pleased. I knew you were the right man for the job. Just...treat her well, okay? If you feel something for her, then that’s good, go with it. If not, don’t let it go so far she gets hurt. I’ll be looking forward to a more complete report on my grandson during our call tomorrow.”

  Had the chief just given him the go-ahead to sleep with his daughter? As long as he cared about her? It sure sounded that way to Tad. He’d been about to clarify when the chief was interrupted and ended the call.

  Tad wasn’t going to have sex with Miranda. Didn’t think it was a good plan. But getting closer to her, maybe even close enough to hold her...

  Shaking his head, he returned the burner phone to the sock in the drawer, grabbed the button-down shirt he usually wore with the black jeans, lined up the hanger with the others and shut his closet door.

  He’d never done undercover work, but had a pretty good idea of what it felt like. And figured he’d been right to steer clear of that option in his career. Complicated was all in a day’s work for him. Mixing life with the job, though...not his thing.

  He could quit. He’d found the chief’s daughter. Could tell him to hire another man to watch over her.

  That possibility had merit. He hated it, but it had merit.

  The cell phone in his back pocket sounded an incoming text from the woman who was never far from his thoughts these days. So much so that he’d given Miranda her own ringtones—separate ones for text and calls.

  Everything okay with Danny and Marie?

  Had Marie called her? His adrenaline sped up. Devon Williams had been spotted near Marie’s house that afternoon by a police patrol. Not close enough to disobey the restraining order, but enough that a notice had been sent out.

  Had he violated his order, after all? Approached Marie?

  As far as I know, they’re fine. Why?

  Get the facts, then act.

  Ethan saw you with Danny at school today.

  He quickly explained that he’d been asked to make visual contact with Danny just as a precaution and had waved at the boy, who’d actually come over to ask him a question about running with a hurt leg.

  Guess you were right, the visit to your office went well, he finished. It felt good, sharing a victory with her, small as it might be.

  A heads-up. Ethan’s feelings were hurt. Thinks you chose Danny over him.

  So much for feeling good.

  What did you say to him? he texted back.

  He paced back to the living area, to the balcony, as he awaited her response. The job wasn’t supposed to be this emotional roller coaster he’d been on for the past couple of weeks. It was supposed to be his head fully engaged,
not his heart.

  After his sister’s death, Tad had made it that way. He was going to be a positive influence on the world. A help, not a hindrance.

  And he was never, ever going to love anyone again as much as he’d loved Steffie.

  Told him to ask you. Sorry. I passed the buck, came the eventual response. And then, I drew a blank. Can’t tell him who Danny is or why you know him.

  He read her response twice.

  Why not?

  Seemed to him that telling her son about Danny might be smart. If the boy knew that sometimes kids were in danger from family members, it would give him an awareness he might need if any of his father’s family came looking for him.

  Chief O’Connor had mentioned one family member of Ethan’s father who could pose a risk, and that had been on the edge of his consciousness since the second he’d heard it. Made him anxious to get to dinner and have a closer look at Miranda’s house. To make sure she had dead bolts, the windows were all securely latched. That...

  He’d look at it all. He’d add more watch time, too. He’d been loitering around enough to be familiar with the neighborhood, to recognize her neighbors as they came and went.

  He’s only six. He doesn’t need to know about the seedier side of life yet.

  He disagreed. Completely. Given her circumstances—about which he supposedly knew nothing.

  But he got her message. He wasn’t supposed to say anything about Danny’s situation to Ethan.

  Telling himself he’d find a discreet way to approach the topic with her, Tad settled for, Got it. And thanks for the heads-up.

  Her response was almost immediate. Thanks. Complete with a smile emoji.

  Chapter 9

  She had to do this. Not only for herself and Ethan, but for all those who came after her. For Marie and the Maries yet to come.

  She had to be proof that life existed after domestic violence—even when the threat was so severe you had to run for your life. Others might not know her circumstances, but by living a happy, fulfilled life, she could teach others to do the same. She could teach with confidence.

  Sometimes confidence was as much a factor in helping someone as facts were.

  And someday, with life following a natural progression, her father and the threat he posed would be gone. Then she could use her story as an example to others.

  Thoughts firmly stationed, she watched the clock, her stomach filled with butterflies as Tad’s arrival drew close.

  She’d originally planned for them to spend the majority of the early-evening get-together out on the patio, but the wind had kicked up, chilling the air, so she’d had to give up on that option.

  Inside the cottage it was. She’d set the table in the smallish eating area off the kitchen. Ethan and Tad could play Zoo Attack from the game box controller attached to the living room TV. She’d cleaned the bathroom in the hall. And shut both bedroom doors. For privacy, not because they weren’t equally spotless.

  In skinny jeans, a dark blue tank and a white, mostly see-through top with three-quarter-length sleeves, she examined her appearance one more time as she did a last check on the bathroom. She’d left her hair down, happy with the natural waves for once, and the rest... She’d never been a heavy makeup kind of girl. Basic foundation, a hint of eyeliner and that was it.

  A thrill of anticipation swept through her as she caught her eye in the mirror. She was hoping that Tad really was attracted to her.

  As much as that scared her, considering her secrets, it also felt good. Damned good. Her escape from hell wasn’t a success unless she and Ethan lived a normal life. Anything less made her remain a victim trapped by the fear of further abuse.

  Back out in the living room, she noticed that her son hadn’t budged from his cross-legged position in front of the TV, where he was cleaning up his zoo, when the doorbell sounded.

  “Remember, if you want to have a friend, you have to be a friend,” she told him quietly as she passed, bending down to kiss the top of his head, hoping he’d lighten up and let the whole Danny thing go.

  Either way, she knew that Tad wasn’t going to tell her son about Danny’s abuse. She hadn’t run three thousand miles, given up everything she’d had, everything she’d known, to have her young son exposed to domestic violence. In time, when he was older and his psyche had been formed with loving family values...then she’d tell him.

  Ethan didn’t lighten up. On the contrary, he was pretty much a brat. A child Miranda didn’t recognize as he insinuated himself between Tad and her, interrupting any time the two of them started a conversation, and refusing to answer Tad when he spoke to him directly.

  Tad had been in their home less than ten minutes, and the evening was a disaster.

  “Maybe I should go,” he said to her, standing up from the couch several yards behind where Ethan sat on the floor. Setting the glass of red wine she’d brought him on the table, Tad pulled out his keys.

  “I don’t think a six-year-old has the right to determine our evening,” Miranda said, surprising herself with the firmness of her tone. She didn’t get demanding with her son, ever. He was a good kid. Rarely needed discipline, just guidance.

  And she was not going to be like her father. Her son would never have reason to fear her. She’d promised herself, and him, too, when he’d been a baby on the run with her.

  She stood, hands on her hips. “Ethan, turn around please.”

  At first, the boy didn’t move, then, very slowly, he turned, looking up at her through his Clark Kent glasses. Her heart melted, as it always did, when he showed her the emotions he wasn’t old enough to hide.

  “Do you really want Tad to leave?” she asked him, praying he’d be honest with her. And with himself.

  “I dunno.”

  “That’s not good enough, Ethan. We have a guest in our home and you’re being rude.”

  Not that she could totally fault him on his manners. If she’d ever had visitors, he might have been better equipped to be a proper host.

  “I’m sorry.” He sounded more petulant than contrite.

  “The other day you asked me to come over,” Tad said, dropping down to sit on the floor beside him.

  The boy, his game controller in hand, stared at the television.

  “You worried I’m going to win our next battle?” he asked, glancing at the screen.

  Ethan shrugged.

  While she didn’t love video games, Miranda played them with her son. He’d never been a sore loser. Nervous, but also kind of fascinated, she got her glass of wine, had a seat on the couch and sipped.

  “So...let me play, too,” Tad suggested, picking up the unused game controller. He couldn’t do much unless Ethan changed to a two-player version. She waited.

  And let out a long breath when her son did just that.

  Fifteen minutes into a silent but competitive game, she slipped out to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on dinner, telling herself not to make too much of Tad’s advent into their lives.

  Warning herself.

  He was only with them for a short time. She could enjoy herself, needed to enjoy herself for her own and Ethan’s health. Needed to introduce him to others.

  And would continue to do so after Tad was gone.

  He was just the first step on this next stage of her survivor journey. She’d start to open her home, their lives, more. Thanks to Tad.

  The feelings he’d raised in her, maybe simply because she was ready and he was there, had forced her to confront her fear of inviting others in.

  Ethan had forced it a bit, too, latching onto Tad as immediately as he had. Hearing their voices from the other room, she left the dressed salad in the glass bowl on the counter and went in to tell them dinner was ready.

  “Why’s it rude for me to ignore you when you ignored me?” she heard.

  Oh, Lordy. Her so
n was not giving up. She wondered which one had broken the silence between them, and suspected it had been Ethan. Tad, with his honed self-control or discipline or whatever it was, probably could have waited it out for days.

  “I didn’t ignore you,” Tad said calmly, his avatar racing around a checkerboard-looking thing, just ahead of the blockages that kept appearing on the path. “I didn’t know you were there. But you know I’m here. That’s the difference.” Ethan, a full lane ahead of Tad in his own version of the same puzzle, was also two squares ahead of the blockages. And he had a hefty collection of blockage obliterators in the spare feeding trough in his zoo barn, meaning her son was winning soundly. “You knew Danny was there. Why didn’t you look for me, too?”

  “I was there to see Danny.”

  Wiping her hands on the towel she’d brought in, Miranda stopped. Stared at the back of Tad’s head.

  Should she put an end to the conversation? Call them in for dinner? Pull Tad aside to warn him, remind him, whatever?

  “Who’s Danny?” she asked, sensing she was overreacting even before the words were out of her mouth.

  Tad’s quick glance in her direction readily confirmed her suspicion.

  Ethan, still looking at Tad, didn’t seem to hear her. “Why were you there to see him? You know his mom, too?” The question wasn’t as friendly-sounding as it might have been. More accusation than curiosity.

  Clearly she had work to do where her son was concerned. He wasn’t just her little boy anymore. It wasn’t just the two of them against the world. She’d known the time would come. Had to give herself a second to swallow the sadness.

  And endure the instant shard of fear that followed.

  “I do know his mom,” Tad said. “So does your mom.”

  No! She stepped closer to them, but before she could get words out, Tad gave her another look. Not condemning. Not a warning.

  More like a promise of some kind.

  “She can’t tell you about him because he’s a patient and it’s against the law for medical personnel to talk about their patients, but he’s not my patient and while his stuff isn’t my business, I can tell you that he knows I got hurt. Your mom knew I got hurt and brought me in to meet Danny.”