“Hello, Nicolas. Or do you want me to call you Eli now?”
“Eli, I guess.” But he didn’t look happy about it, and Maggie wondered how the transition was going for father and son.
“I missed you in school today,” she said, sliding into the car and turning to face the nine-year-old boy.
“They said I couldn’t go.”
“Who said that?”
“My…” Eli shot a look in Kane’s direction. “Father and aunt and the police. They said there were too many people who wanted to talk to me and take my picture.”
“They were right. You wouldn’t want a bunch of strangers following you all over the school.”
“I guess not, but now I’m going to have a lot of make-up work to do.”
“Not so much. It is the day before Thanksgiving, after all. Mrs. Trenton didn’t even assign homework.”
“She didn’t?”
“No. So you can stop worrying and enjoy your vacation.” Maggie leaned over the seat and ruffled Eli’s hair, then settled back into place as Kane rounded the car and got behind the steering wheel. She caught a flash of a strong jaw and high cheekbones, tan skin and deep-set eyes before the door closed and the interior light went off.
“I don’t think Eli considers this a vacation. It’s more a slow torture.” Kane’s voice was light, but Maggie heard the tension in it.
“Is it that bad, Eli?” She glanced over her shoulder, but Eli was staring out the window and didn’t respond.
“He’s had a rough couple of days. Haven’t you, sport?” Kane started the engine and drove down the road, the silence that followed his comment thick and telling.
“It will get better,” Maggie said, praying she was right. Eli had been taken from his home the previous morning and reunited with Kane less than twenty-four hours later. It was going to take time for him to adjust to his new circumstances. Time for him to realize that he really was where he belonged.
“You’re right. And in the meantime, we thought it would be nice to come for a visit with one of his favorite teachers. Right, Eli?”
“She’s my only favorite teacher.”
“That’s very sweet, Eli, and I’m happy for the visit, but it really isn’t a good night to be out and about.”
“I figured the weather would make it easier for me to get to you without bringing the press along. The sheriff said you’d like your role in things kept quiet and that you didn’t want any part of the press.”
“He’s right.” She’d asked Sheriff O’Malley not to mention her name to anyone. Including Kane. Apparently, he hadn’t respected her wishes.
“It took me a while to get the information out of him, but I think, being a father himself, he couldn’t deny me the chance to thank the person who gave me back my son.” His voice had gone gritty with emotion, and Maggie touched his shoulder, felt the corded muscle beneath his coat and let her hand fall away.
The last thing she wanted to do was make a connection, allow herself to be pulled into the drama of Kane and Eli’s life, pulled into the spotlight with them.
“Like I said before, I don’t need thanks. I did what anyone would have.”
“Then why didn’t anyone? Why didn’t…” He glanced in the rearview mirror and frowned. “I guess now isn’t the time to discuss this.”
“No, I guess not.” Not with Eli sitting behind them, listening to every word.
“So, how about we discuss it over dinner Friday night?”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got a busy weekend ahead of me. My driveway is to the right. At the white mailbox.”
“I’d say that everyone has to eat, but that would be cliché. So how about I just suggest we do it another time?”
“I really can’t, Kane.”
“Because you want to stay away from the press?”
“Yes.”
He was silent for a moment, and Maggie expected him to ask why that was so important to her.
Finally, he nodded. “Okay. So, how about we just meet out here again next weekend? I’ll bring dinner, and we can chat.”
“Next weekend?” He was staying in town that long? She’d thought that Kane and Eli would fly to Kane’s New York home soon after their reunion and take their entourage of reporters with them.
And Maggie would be safe again.
“Unless you’d rather do it on a weeknight. We’ll be moving into our rental on Monday—”
“Rental?”
“A few blocks north of the school. I asked Eli if he wanted to go back to New York now or wait until the end of the school year. He wants to wait. Right, bud?”
“Right.” Eli’s response was subdued, and Maggie wondered if he wanted to leave Deer Park, Washington, at all. He’d once told her that he’d lived in seven different states and attended the same number of schools. Shy and serious, he didn’t make friends easily, and Maggie was sure the frequent moves had only made things more difficult.
“I’m glad you’re staying until the end of the school year.”
Even if that meant Maggie would have to leave.
“Me, too. I like it here. So, since I’m staying, will you have dinner with me and my father next weekend?”
“I…” Can’t was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t say it without offering an excuse, and she didn’t have one. “I’d love to. As long as nothing comes up between now and then.”
Kane stopped in front of the old farmhouse, and Maggie opened the car door, shivering as cold wind slapped her cheeks. “I guess we’re here. Thanks for the ride.”
“I’ll walk you up.” Kane got out of the car and walked around to escort her.
“I’m fine, Kane. I think it’s best if you and Eli head back.”
“We will, but before I go, I wanted to let you know that there’s a hundred-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to Eli’s recovery. It’s yours.”
“What?”
“The money is yours. My lawyer will transfer the funds to your account—”
“No.”
“No?”
“I don’t want money. That’s not why I listened to Eli’s story about having a father in New York, and it’s not why I contacted the sheriff when I realized what he was saying might be true.” She fished the keys from her purse, opened the front door, stepped inside and flipped on the foyer light.
“That doesn’t mean the money isn’t yours,” he said, the light spilling over him, highlighting a face that belonged on a magazine cover. High cheek bones, a square jaw shadowed with stubble, lips that were full and firm. The wide brim of his hat threw shadows over eyes that were the same deep green as Eli’s. Was his hair red like his son’s?
“Look, I apprec—” Maggie’s words were cut off as lights flashed at the end of her driveway. Someone was coming, and she didn’t plan to stand in the doorway, waiting to find out who it was. “I need to go. Tell Eli I’ll see him at school.”
“Wait—”
But Maggie couldn’t afford to wait. Not when the headlights were moving closer and anyone with a good camera could get a picture of her standing in the threshold chatting with Kane.
She slammed the door and turned the lock, stepping deeper into the house, wishing she could believe that would be enough to keep her hidden from the world, to preserve the life she’d fought so hard for.
Please, God, don’t let it be a reporter, because I really don’t want to leave Deer Park. I really don’t want to have to start all over again.
She didn’t want to, but she would.
Because if a photo of her somehow ended up in the news, if Derrick saw it, he’d come after her. There was no doubt about that.
And there was absolutely no doubt about what he’d do if he found her.
TWO
Maggie Tennyson had slammed the door in his face. After everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, Kane wasn’t sure why that bothered him, but it did. He was tempted to knock, see if she would open the door again. He had a few questio
ns he’d like to ask her.
Like—why was she so afraid of being in the spotlight? Why was she unwilling to accept the reward? Why did seeing a car pull into her driveway make her bolt?
He was tempted, but he wouldn’t.
He had other things to worry about. Like reconnecting with his son.
Headlights splashed on the dirt driveway as Kane hurried back to the SUV he’d rented, and he eyed the approaching vehicle, wondering if it was possible that he had been followed from the hotel.
He might not understand Maggie’s desire to stay anonymous, but he wanted to respect it. If a reporter did approach, Kane had no intention of mentioning Maggie’s name or of explaining why he was at the property.
Of course, a good reporter would be able to find out who owned the farmhouse and might begin conjecturing about why Kane would bring Eli there.
To his relief, a tow truck pulled up beside the SUV and a gray-haired man got out. “Howdy. Maggie around?”
“She’s inside.”
“Glad to hear it. I nearly had a coronary when I got to her car and she wasn’t in it. Weather’s not good for taking a hike.”
“I gave her a lift.”
“Looks like her Ford isn’t damaged, so you can tell Maggie that she’s fine to drive it. Needs to put chains on the tires, though. Better yet, she should get new tires. Hers are looking threadbare, and that’s not good for driving in the winter around these parts,” he said almost absently as he unhooked the Ford.
“I’ll let her know.”
“Appreciate it. Tell her I’ll bill her, or she can just drop into the shop and pay when she’s got time.” He finished the job and turned to face Kane again, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of Eli peering out the window of the SUV. There was no doubt the driver recognized him. There probably wasn’t a person in Deer Park who wouldn’t have. Eli’s image had been plastered across the front page of the local newspaper and featured on local and national news.
Kane braced himself for the comments and questions, the well wishes and speculations that he’d been hearing since he had arrived in town late the previous night.
Instead, the driver smiled at Eli, offered Kane a brief nod, got into his truck and drove away.
Would he spread the word that Kane and Eli had been visiting Maggie?
For her sake, Kane hoped not.
“Let’s go give her the message, Dad.” Eli climbed out of the car, brushing against Kane as he started walking toward the old farmhouse Maggie had disappeared into.
Kane wanted to put a hand on his son’s shoulder, connect with him in that small way, but he knew what Eli would do. He’d stiffen, holding himself tense and tight until Kane backed off. He wouldn’t verbally protest the contact, but he wouldn’t relax into it, either.
Give it time.
That’s what the counselor who’d accompanied Kane to his first meeting with Eli had said. But Kane had already lost five years of his son’s life. In that time, the bubbly four-year-old had turned into an anxious, unhappy little boy. It was a reality Kane had expected. One he’d thought he’d prepared for.
But how did a father prepare to meet a child he hadn’t seen in five years? How did he reconcile memories with reality and balance his own need to connect with Eli’s need to hold back and wait things out?
Kane didn’t know, so he was simply going with the flow, taking it a minute at a time and praying he’d figure things out along the way.
He followed Eli up rickety porch steps and waited as he rang a doorbell that didn’t seem to work.
Maggie must have been watching from one of the narrow windows that bracketed the door. Old wood creaked as it swung open, and she hovered at the threshold, smiling at Eli. “I thought you two were heading back to town.”
Despite the smile, there was a nervousness about her, a tension in her muscles and her mouth that Kane didn’t miss.
“We have a message for you, Ms. Tennyson. We came to deliver it,” Eli replied in the overly formal way of his that Kane found both amusing and unsettling. Nine-year-old boys were supposed to be full of mischief and jokes. They were not supposed to speak like aged gentlemen.
“Well, then I guess you’d better come in and tell me what it is.” Maggie motioned for them to enter the house and quickly closed the door.
She’d taken off her coat, and the faded jeans and oversize flannel shirt she wore were as easy and comfortable as her smile. Golden-blond hair fell around her face in tangled waves that she brushed behind her ear, and Kane caught a whiff of a subtle, flowery perfume as she leaned a shoulder against the wall. She had an effortless beauty. The kind that didn’t need makeup and fancy clothes to enhance it.
The kind that Kane had always found alluring.
“So, let’s have it. What’s the message?” she asked.
“Your car is back, and it’s not damaged. You can drive it. And you’ll get a bill for it, or you can go and pay for it next week.”
“I always knew you had a good memory, Eli. Now, if you can just use it to memorize your multiplication facts while you’re waiting to go back to school, you’ll be all set.” Her tone was gentle, her eyes a soft blue, her lips deep rose. All her attention was focused on Eli, and Kane suddenly understood why his son had been so desperate to visit Maggie. The combination of beauty and attentiveness would be a hard one for a kid like Eli to resist. It would be a hard one for anyone to resist.
“Maybe you could help me get them memorized,” Eli said hopefully, and Maggie smiled again.
“I’m sure your father and aunt will want to do that.”
“They’re going to be busy getting the new house ready. They won’t have time to help me.”
“We’ll always have time for you, Eli.” Kane broke in, hoping he didn’t look as disheartened as he felt. The transition into being a family again was going to be a rough one. He’d known that going into it. He’d hoped, though. Hoped that Eli would be more eager to rebuild what they’d once had.
“I guess so.” But Eli didn’t look like he believed it.
“Guess so? Of course they will. You’re the only reason they’re in Deer Park, and I’m sure they’d much rather help you with math than get some stuffy old house ready.”
Maggie’s response was light and easy, but Kane didn’t miss the concern in her eyes.
“Maybe. But you could help me, too. If I had three people helping, I’d be the best at multiplication in the whole school.”
“You’re quite a negotiator, aren’t you? Maybe you’ll grow up to be a lawyer.” A lawyer?
That’s what Kane had been before he’d opened his P.I. firm, and it’s what had nearly cost him his son. Prosecuting Lee Peyton and getting him convicted of murder had been the catalyst that sent Peyton’s mother, Susannah, over the edge. Deprived of her only son, she’d decided to take Kane’s. At least that’s what the FBI agents working the case were speculating. Susannah Peyton wasn’t talking. Whether she ever would was something Kane wouldn’t speculate on.
“I want to be a detective. Like my father.”
The comment surprised Kane, and he had to resist the urge to put a hand on Eli’s shoulder, tell him how proud that made him feel. There was no sense in ruining the moment, and he knew from experience that physical contact with Eli would do just that.
“Sounds like an interesting career choice.” Maggie glanced at Kane again, her expression guarded. Was she bothered by the fact that he was a private investigator? Or was she simply wishing he’d take Eli and leave?
“It has been,” he offered, not nearly as anxious to go back to the hotel as Maggie might be to have him leave. Eli’s silence during the past few hours had weighed Kane down. Sports, school, friends, every subject he’d tried to discuss had been met with a one syllable response or no response at all. Maggie didn’t seem to be having the same problem.
“I used to dream about being a private detective,” she said, and Eli’s eyes grew wide.
“Really?”
“Sure. I r
ead just about every Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys book there was, and I wanted to be a teen detective just like them.”
“Were you one?”
“No. I guess I forgot the dream for a while.” Her smile faltered, and Kane wondered what memories had chased it away.
“So you’re a teacher instead.”
“Training to be one. Speaking of which, I have got some sugar cookies in the kitchen that I need a taste tester for.”
“Taste tester?” Eli seemed intrigued, and Maggie offered him a hand, leading him down the hall.
“Sure. If you like them, then the other kids probably will, and I’ll bring some in for a special treat one day.”
“When I’m back at school?”
“Of course.” Maggie pushed open a door, leading Eli into the room beyond.
Kane followed, feeling like a third wheel. He tried not to let it bother him. Maggie was a familiar face, a caring adult who’d listened to Eli when no one else would. Kane was a distant memory, a faded dream that Eli probably hadn’t been sure was real. A dead man suddenly alive.
Kane would be scared, too, if he were in Eli’s place.
He tried to keep that in mind as he walked into the large kitchen. It was in a state of chaos. New cabinets, new floor, new paint. No countertop. No appliances. A large watermark stained the ceiling, and colorful glass tiles lay on a nicked table. A warped, cracked door let in gusts of cold air, and Kane had a feeling there were other cracks in other doors in the house. In windows. Maybe even in the roof.
Maggie might not want a monetary reward, but it was obvious she could use one.
“Excuse the mess. I’m still in the middle of renovations,” she said as she reached into an upper cupboard, pulled out a package of cookies and offered one to Eli.
“It looks like you’ve done a lot already.” Kane lifted one of the glass tiles, running his finger over the cool, smooth surface. “These are going to look good when they are up.”
“I hope so. It took me forever to pick them out.”
“You’re planning to put them up this weekend?”
Running Scared Page 2