Tommy's Mom

by Linda O. Johnston

  He shook his head so fast that it nearly made Holly dizzy.

  “Why?” Holly knew she shouldn’t let her frustration overpower her need to calm him, but the word came out as both a plea and a demand. She didn’t expect him to respond.

  She was shocked when he did.

  He wriggled out of her arms but grasped her hand tightly. He pulled her toward the nearest of the stained and gouged wooden work tables that lined a couple of the room’s walls.

  On it, propped against the wall, was an elongated, primitive mask, one of Sheldon’s prize possessions. Only then did Holly realize that her subconscious mind had noted its absence when she’d searched frantically for Tommy before. It had always been out front, on prominent display, a special piece not for sale. Sheldon had brought it back with him years ago with a long story to tell about its origins in Thailand. Or was it Bali?

  It was painted vivid green, with enormous, bulging eyes outlined in black. Its frowning mouth was full of garish, stylized white teeth, and an outsized red tongue lolled from between them.

  The mask would be frightening to an impressionable child. It wasn’t even pleasant for an adult. But what did Tommy’s pointing to it now mean?

  He raised his arms to be picked up, the way he had as a toddler. She lifted him, but nearly dropped him, he was shaking so hard. He buried his face on her chest.

  Gabe joined them. He rubbed Tommy’s back. “Tommy, does that mask scare you?”

  The small head nodded against Holly.

  “Please tell us why,” Gabe said firmly.

  So violently that it nearly hurt her, Tommy shook his head.

  “What’s the mask doing back here, Sheldon?” Holly asked. “I thought you always kept it out front.”

  “I do. But after the police investigation of…er, you know, there were gouges on it. I brought it here to repair it.”

  Gabe snapped to instant attention. His eyes narrowed beneath his straight, somber brows. Holly felt glad that their intense scrutiny was focused on Sheldon rather than her. “Did one of the crime scene staff tell you it was damaged during their investigation?”

  “No, but it was damaged, and I assumed that was how—”

  Gabe gently took Tommy from her once more. The boy tilted his head way back to look up at Gabe’s face.

  “Okay, sport, don’t say a word, all right? Just nod or shake your head. Did you see this mask that morning when your daddy got hurt?”

  Tommy moved so quickly that Gabe all but dropped him. When his feet were on the floor, Tommy ran into the other room. The adults followed.

  Tommy stopped in the front room near the door.

  Near where Thomas’s body had lain…

  He looked about feverishly, as if seeking a means of escape. Holly drew close to him. They both had had enough.

  Al Sharp pushed the door open, followed by another uniformed officer, George Greer, Al’s new partner. Dolph and Bruce were close behind.

  “Everything all right, chief?” Al asked. “We saw Bruce and Dolph down the street and got their attention after we saw you motion to us to come.”

  At the cops’ feet, Tommy buried his face against Holly’s legs.

  “Are you okay, Tommy?” Al asked. He knelt beside the boy, who scooted far from him along the scuffed floor.

  He turned to stare at Al, touched his badge, then drew back as if it had burned him. He cried out once more, then struck at Al and Dolph, who stood next to him.

  “I’m sorry, Holly,” Al said, looking bewildered. “What did I do?”

  “I’m taking Tommy home,” Holly said firmly. Though she didn’t understand his reactions, he’d had enough. So had she.

  As she neared the door, her son in her arms, she turned. Gabe mouthed, See you later. There was more on his face than she could read, but she saw both distraction and determination.

  Tommy had gone into the back room by himself. He’d seemed terrified about the mask. The cops in uniform seemed to have made it worse.

  We don’t want to see you later, Holly wanted to cry to Gabe. He’d only ask more questions. Insinuate himself more into Tommy’s fragile emotions. Make things worse. But even so, Holly realized as she hurried out the door carrying Tommy, she would wait eagerly for him to arrive.

  She would always be there for her son, to take care of him.

  But later, she would need a strong shoulder to cry on.

  “HOW WAS TOMMY this afternoon?” Gabe asked Holly as he sat at her kitchen table. It was nearly seven in the evening. He’d wanted to get here early, but as usual the reality of his job had interfered.

  Which had been damn irritating. Especially because there was something important he hadn’t even gotten to. Tommy’s reaction at Sheldon’s shop hadn’t been the only occurrence that afternoon that triggered a need for further investigation.

  When Gabe had taken the list of shops on Pacific Way around for verification—and to listen for clues about why both Thomas Poston and Mal Kensington had copies—he’d met some of the new shopkeepers, who of course couldn’t help him.

  More interesting was the reaction of the storeowners who’d been around when the list was dated. None had been particularly cooperative. A few were downright hostile.

  Why? Could their reactions be related to those of the other disgruntled shopowners, those who’d told Evangeline to ask Mal Kensington why they’d sold out?

  He hadn’t had time to go back and pursue it further.

  He had also brought something to show Holly, but that could wait until later.

  “Tommy did just fine this afternoon,” she said, responding to his inquiry, but she threw a look toward Tommy that told Gabe more than her words. He probably hadn’t been okay at all, but she wouldn’t explain in front of her fragile son.

  “The chicken smells delicious,” Gabe said to change the subject. Holly wore jeans and a cropped shirt, and he savored watching each of her lithe movements as she finished cooking as much as he savored the rich aroma. Her shining dark hair was held back from her face by a golden headband.

  He’d called earlier to suggest that he bring in chicken dinners that night, but Holly told him that was just what she’d planned to cook for them.

  For them. All three of them. The concept was domestic, tempting—and absolutely, unequivocally temporary. He had to keep his mind focused on that: temporary.

  Gabe helped Holly serve the wonderful home-cooked meal, and enjoyed every bite. He had to step up the investigation’s pace. He’d catch the devil who’d killed Thomas Poston. And when he did, and when he’d tied up the other loose ends such as the related threatening calls, there’d be no further reason for him to pop over to Holly’s house each evening.

  But to get to that point, he had to help Tommy.

  “So, sport, you ready for another game of catch?” Gabe asked when they were finished and he’d helped Holly with the dishes.

  The kid nodded, but his heart didn’t seem in it.

  “Why don’t you show Gabe the pictures you drew this afternoon?” Holly said. She sounded troubled. Her luscious, full lips smiled at her son, but her eyes didn’t.

  A frown marred Tommy’s face before he slid off his chair and headed for the kitchen door.

  Waiting a moment, to make sure he was out of earshot, Gabe said, “Did he tell you any more about this morning?”

  Holly sank into her chair. She rested her elbows on the table and propped her chin on her palms, as if it was too much effort for her neck to hold up her head. “What an afternoon. No, he didn’t tell me anything. Wouldn’t even answer questions by shaking his head or nodding. He was exhausted after what happened, but do you think he would settle down for a nap?”

  The question was rhetorical, so Gabe didn’t answer. Instead, he put his hand encouragingly on her bare arm. It was warm and creamy smooth. The stimulating sensation of touching her would have distracted him utterly from her story, if he’d let it. He didn’t.

  “I tried to bribe him to rest by offering to color beside
him at the kitchen table. He seemed happy with the idea at first, then ran upstairs and upended nearly everything in his bedroom.”

  “Was he crying or—?”

  Holly interrupted Gabe with a shrug of exasperation. “No. Not a sound. I wondered if he was looking for something, but of course he didn’t explain. I got desperate and offered to take him out and buy him a brand-new coloring book. That did the trick, thank heavens. He asked for a blank pad of paper, too, by pointing, and when we got home he drew some pictures of his own on it.”

  Before Gabe could ask more, Tommy returned. His hands were full of tablets and coloring books and a big box of crayons. “Let me help before you drop something.” Gabe put everything on the clean kitchen table.

  Tommy crawled up onto his chair beside Gabe. He tilted his head as if asking Gabe something. “What is it?” Gabe asked.

  Tommy pointed toward the coloring book.

  “Is there a special picture you’d like to show me?”

  Tommy nodded. He opened it to a picture of flowers and butterflies that he had colored in, nearly within the lines. The butterflies were shades of yellow and gold. “Are these monarch butterflies, the ones I told you about the other day?” Gabe asked in delight.

  Tommy nodded, grinning.

  “Hey, that’s great.” Gabe leaned over and hugged him. And then he had an idea. “You know what I’d really like?” He didn’t look at Holly. If she didn’t go along with it, though, he would hear from her quickly enough.

  Tommy looked at him with quizzical eyes the same dark brown as his mother’s.

  “I think something scared you this morning, didn’t it, Tommy? At Mr. Sperling’s shop?”

  He heard Holly’s intake of breath, saw her hands move jerkily over the table from the corner of his eye, but when he looked at her, she, too, was just watching him, her eyes wider than Tommy’s. She looked upset, but she didn’t stop him.

  “What I would like is for you to draw me a picture of what scared you, okay?”

  Tommy shook his head vehemently. He kicked his feet against his chair. Maybe this idea wasn’t going to work.

  “If you’re not going to draw it, tell me what scared you.”

  His little head shook in the negative so hard that Gabe wondered if he was getting dizzy. He rose and picked Tommy up.

  “If you talk about something, it gets less scary,” Gabe said.

  Tommy’s body stiffened, as if he wanted to get out of Gabe’s arms. Gabe put him down gently. Tommy gave him a defiant look, his small bottom lip jutting. And then he sat back at the table. He opened his tablet to a blank page and began drawing something with his crayons.

  Gabe wasn’t sure how artistic four-year-olds were, but he found Tommy’s creation colorful and full of irregular shapes that, taken together, resembled a person.

  A person with a green face and red tongue. Like the mask in Sheldon’s shop. Its body was blue.

  “Is that what scared you, honey?” Holly said. She had been utterly quiet, watching her son work. “The mask?”

  Tommy looked up at her from where he sat, eyes troubled. He shook his head slowly at first, then nodded affirmatively.

  “Honey, we don’t understand. Was it the mask?”

  Tommy blinked. He opened his mouth, then shut it again. And then he turned his head toward Gabe.

  “Would you like to tell me, sport?” Gabe kept his tone very soft, very soothing and, he hoped, very encouraging.

  Tommy hopped down from the chair once more and tugged at Gabe until his ear was near Tommy’s mouth.

  And then Tommy said one word, very distinctly: “Monster.”

  “WHAT WAS he talking about?” Holly asked an hour later, after Tommy was in bed. “Did he think the mask was a monster?”

  Gabe shrugged. He sat beside her on the sofa in her living room. She had made hazelnut-flavored decaf—wimpy stuff but it tasted good. They had sat down to relax. He was glad Holly spoke to him about her son as if Gabe were part of his life.

  Yeah, and it was damn disconcerting, too.

  “He needs to tell us what he’s thinking,” he grumbled. “A word now and then was enough at first, but now I want him really to talk.”

  “Me, too.” Holly looked at him over the rim of her raised mug of coffee. Her eyes were sad, almost despairing.

  He sat—hard—on his urge to hold her.

  “I just wish…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Should I fill in the blanks? You wish nothing had happened, that your husband was alive and your son was talking and—”

  “Yes!” The loudness of her tone underscored her frustration. She punctuated the word further by thumping her mug down on the coffee table.

  “I wish it for you, too, Holly.” The hell of it was, he really did.

  He was startled by her scornful expression. “That’s kind of you to say, though you don’t mean it. Isn’t this the biggest case you’ve had since you arrived here? If it hadn’t happened, where would your challenge be?”

  Gabe’s fists clenched, but he made himself relax before he snapped the handle off his mug. It wasn’t necessarily his biggest case, just his most obvious. “I’d find something to do.” Gabe made himself smile, then grew serious. “Holly, I’m a cop. It’s what I always wanted to be, and I admit I love its challenges. But whether or not you believe it, I’m still a human being, more or less. And I hate what’s going on with you and Tommy. If I could make it all go away, I would. Instead, the best I can do is to solve the case as fast as I can.”

  Holly’s head drooped. “I’m sorry, Gabe. I shouldn’t take this out on you.”

  He edged closer to her on the couch and lifted her small chin with his fingertip. Her eyes were luminous, and for a moment he imagined he saw desire there. Her mouth opened, perhaps to say something, but instead he saw the tip of her tongue move, then grow still. Damn, how sexy she was! His crotch tightened, but he quickly pulled away. She probably had no idea how she was affecting him.

  “And as to solving the case,” he said almost gruffly, “I brought something of Thomas’s that arrived at the station.”

  Holly’s eyebrows knit together as if she were confused. He loved those dark eyebrows, how expressive they were. He had an urge to stroke them….

  Instead, he stood abruptly and went to the recliner chair, where he’d left his suit jacket. He pulled out an envelope, then handed it to Holly.

  “I don’t know if Mal Kensington minded whether his officers got personal mail at the station, but I do. I thought I’d made it clear, but Thomas didn’t take me seriously. In any event, you should get this credit card company to send future bills here.”

  “Sure,” Holly said, but she sounded distracted as she opened the envelope.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “It’s just that… I didn’t learn about this credit card myself till I went through Thomas’s office. And this bill has charges on it. The charges I saw before looked normal, but not these. I knew he bought tickets to some Mighty Ducks games, but this says he got expensive box seats, season tickets. It’s an extravagance. I’m not sure how he intended to pay for them.”

  Gabe was instantly on alert. He joined her on the couch once more, edging close to look over her shoulder at the bill. “Are there other extraordinary charges?”

  She pointed at a charge. “Sports equipment from a department store…and I don’t even know where he put it. I’m going to have to go through this very carefully.” She turned her head to look at Gabe. She looked stricken. “I don’t know what was going on, Gabe.”

  “We’ll find out,” he said soothingly.

  “Do you…” She hesitated.

  He thought he knew what she was thinking. “Do I think this could have something to do with his death? Or if it’s what that caller is after? I don’t know, but it could be. That’s why we have to figure out what Thomas was up to.”

  Holly seemed to wilt beside him. One hand went up to her eyes. “Thomas and I had drifted apart,” she said, “but I
never imagined he was hiding something that someone might kill him over. Could he have done something illegal?”

  “Could be, but no need to judge him until we know for sure.” He moved closer and put a comforting arm around her, and she leaned into him.

  When she turned her head again, his mouth was close to hers. Very close. Her breath was as sweet as hazelnut coffee and honey. He thought about pulling away but didn’t. He kissed her.

  He only intended it to be a comforting kiss. A brotherly kiss, from a cop who was a surrogate family member.

  It started out that way. But she pressed her mouth against his as if she sought the breath of life from him. He gave it, and he was the one who felt suddenly alive. Alert. He felt his erection grow and throb as his lips explored hers, tasted her, felt her hands begin to move over his chest, down his back….

  If he didn’t stop now, he wouldn’t stop at all. He dragged himself off the sofa. He stood in front of Holly, breathing irregularly, wanting her so much that he hurt, right where it mattered.

  But he wouldn’t do that to her. Or himself.

  “Why, Gabe?” she asked softly. Her lips were swollen from the ardor of his kisses. “I don’t believe I’m saying this, but don’t you want to make love with me?”

  His smile held no humor. “More than I want to solve this case.”

  She looked as shocked as if he had hit her. “Then why…?”

  He ached to take her back into his arms. Ached bad. But he wouldn’t. To avoid the temptation, he sat on the reclining chair facing her, not beside her.

  “Look, Holly.” He hoped his voice was stronger than it sounded. “We’ve been thrown together in an emotional situation. You’ve just lost your husband. You’re afraid and lonely. I know how that can affect a woman. But when this is all over, you’ll be ready for a new life. If we make love now, you’ll regret it. I’ll regret taking advantage of you.”

  “Why would you regret it, Gabe? I’m a consenting adult, so you wouldn’t be taking advantage of me. Is there more to it than that?”