by Lois Richer
Chloe Tanner didn’t back away, didn’t pretend, didn’t ignore him. She held her position and looked him straight in the eye. “Don’t bother,” she told him. “I’m a working woman with two kids who made it out of a bad marriage by the skin of her teeth. Even if I were ready to get involved with someone, and I’m not, I’ve got too much baggage. Excuse me.”
Brendan gulped. She’d read him perfectly. The electric current zipping between them was a live, tangible thing that couldn’t be ignored. But her assessment drew a line over which he couldn’t possibly cross without destroying her faith in him. Brendan studied Chloe for a few more seconds before he finally stepped aside. “Have a good evening.”
“Mrs. Mills said she’d be here no later than one o’clock. If she doesn’t make it by then, call me.” She stood in the doorway, dark hair piled on her head in a ponytail that swished and danced around her face in a flurry of soft curls. “Thank you very much for doing this, Brendan.”
He nodded and moved to the doorway to watch her leave. She drove away from the house carefully but competently, just as she did everything else.
“Come on, Brendan. I’ve got a video and popcorn.”
“I’m coming.” But just before he stepped inside, Brendan noticed a long black car slide out of an alley and turn to follow Chloe down the road. “Hey, Kyle, which one of your neighbors drives a big, black car?”
“I dunno.” Kyle pushed his hand away and shoved the door closed. “You’re letting all the heat out, man. Anyway, who cares about cars?”
“Just wondering, that’s all. I have a curious brain.”
“Yeah, me, too. I’m very curious about this movie. It’s about snakes.” Kyle waited until Brendan was seated and served a bowl of popcorn before he started it. After two minutes Brendan knew he had to leave the room or give himself away. When Kyle was focused on the TV he reached into his pocket and made his phone ring.
“Excuse me, I’ve got to take this. You keep watching.” Safely away from slithering bodies that hissed, out of sight of the fangs that darted back and forth, Brendan was able to breathe again. When his pulse rate had returned to normal, he pulled out his notes, studied them.
An increase in drug overdoses, an old drug lord’s connections, the mayor’s shooting. An idea grew. Maybe if he did another search into Baltasar Escalante’s ugly past, he’d figure out whatever kept nagging at his brain. There had to be a connection. All he had to do was find it.
Chapter Five
“Oh, Chloe. I phoned last night to see if Kyle still wanted to bring his snake to school for our biology class. You do know we’re studying reptiles?” Mrs. Gardener waited for her nod then pressed on, her voice growing louder. “A man answered your phone.”
Chloe froze in the middle of the church vestibule, face burning, and tried to think of something to say that would make all the ogling eyes that were now riveted on her focus on something else. But there was no escape.
Mrs. Gardener was a great biology teacher but she was also the worst gossip in town. When she spoke, people listened. At the moment she was smiling genially as a group of church women surrounded her. They were all waiting for a response.
“I was told of your call, Mrs. Gardener.” Chloe drew on her coat. “Last night I was called in to work. They were shorthanded so Madison’s soccer coach stayed with the kids.”
“I never knew Brendan Montgomery to babysit before.” Lucia Vance stepped forward, her voice cutting through the room. “How long did he last?”
As the church women exchanged quick looks, Chloe schooled her features, grasped at calmness. “I’m not sure how long.” She gulped. “I was at work. Mrs. Mills had an emergency so he kindly agreed to stay with Kyle and Maddy until she could arrive.”
“There’s the great babysitter himself.” Lucia’s voice climbed to eardrum-shattering proportions. “Brendan! I hear you’ve got a new job.”
Chloe winced, wished she were anywhere else. Brendan said something to the man he was with then walked toward them, his eyes meeting Chloe’s in a question before he faced Lucia. “I beg your pardon?”
Did he think she’d started this? Chloe straightened her spine. She didn’t need someone to deflect gossip. She could handle this herself.
“She and Mrs. Gardener are concerned about the time you spent at my place with the kids on Saturday night,” she said softly, fingers clenching in her pockets.
“Why?” He looked nonplused.
“Just curious.” Lucia’s smile hinted at more. Chloe longed to run but Brendan had hold of her arm.
“You’re embarrassing her, Lucia. Now stop teasing and be nice.”
“I apologize, Chloe.” Lucia touched her hand. “I’ve spent a lot of years trying to pay back Brendan’s teasing. He tormented me when we were kids, but that’s no excuse to put you in the middle.”
“It’s okay.” Chloe just wished she could slink out without anyone noticing.
“Kyle asked me to get him some information on the model club,” Brendan explained, ignoring those gathered around whose ears perked to hear everything. “I put this package together but I can’t find him anywhere.”
“Yes, he’s been talking non-stop about that club. I think he’s out in the van at the moment. It’s this way.” She walked forward, hoping against hope that he’d follow her without comment.
Outside she sucked in a breath of crisp autumn air and heaved a sigh of relief when no one followed.
“You made it. Just don’t look back.” He caught her quick glance of surprise and grinned. “Please don’t be offended. Lucia and the others weren’t being mean. Good Shepherd is a Bible-based church with kind caring people.”
“I know. It’s all right, really. I was just caught off-guard. And you’re right about it being Bible-based. I don’t think I’ve ever heard sermons like the ones I’ve heard here.” She walked slowly, choosing her path carefully because of her high heels. Why had she worn them today?
“What do you mean?” Brendan stared down at her, his green eyes narrowed, assessing.
“Don’t misunderstand,” she said, wishing she’d never said a word. “I really enjoy Pastor Dawson’s sermons. They make you think of your life in everyday terms, the changes you can make now. It’s not that.” Chloe knew from the way he was studying her that he expected the whole truth. She sighed. “I’ve gone to church for most of my life. We went every Sunday.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” He leaned against the van, waiting.
“I guess it didn’t hurt.” She smiled at his quirked eyebrows. “But we didn’t go there to worship, Brendan. That wasn’t what it was about. My family went to be seen as the happy, well-adjusted family with happy smiles.”
“Sounds difficult.” He made a face.
“Difficult and dishonest. There were a lot of problems in our house, though I don’t suppose anyone ever knew about them until my father left.” She fiddled with her scarf, not wanting to see the pity she knew she’d find reflected in his mossy green eyes. They held secrets, those eyes.
“How old were you when that happened, Chloe?” Was that concern?
“Ten.” She swallowed, forced her pulse to regulate. “I didn’t know he was leaving my mother, or even that he had another daughter, until someone at school blurted it out. It…came as a shock.”
“Kids are nasty little creatures sometimes, aren’t they?” He patted her shoulder, his touch brief but powerful. After a minute he spoke again, this time with a quiet thoughtfulness. “That’s why you’re so protective of your kids, isn’t it? You know how they must be feeling with their father not in their lives.”
“Yes.” She looked at him, hurried to explain. “It’s not that I don’t want Steve to see them. I just don’t want them hurt when he doesn’t show.”
Brendan nodded, opened his mouth to say something, then closed it when Kyle rolled down a window and poked his head out. “Hey, guy. I thought you were going to pick up this stuff from me?”
“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” Ky
le took the envelope and thrust it into the back seat. “Are you coming to our place for lunch?”
“I don’t think so, but thanks anyway. I’ve practically eaten your mom out of house and home as it is.” Brendan smiled at the boy, ruffling his hair.
“I guess you’re busy.” For once Kyle didn’t sound belligerent. Only disappointed. He was looking at Brendan like a puppy that wanted to be petted but wouldn’t beg. Chloe’s heart ached for her son.
“I could stop by later if you need someone to talk to,” Brendan offered. “I’ve got the afternoon off.”
“Yeah! That’d be great. Wouldn’t it, Mom?”
Chloe nodded. “You’re welcome anytime, Brendan. And don’t worry about a few meals. I owe you a lot more than that for last night. I’m sorry Mrs. Mills never showed. I never intended for you to stay so long.”
“She had a rough time with her niece. She needed a rest. Dealing with sick people is hard. I’m glad I could pinch-hit for her, though I don’t think she trusts me with your kids. She wasn’t very friendly when she found out I was there.” He winked at Chloe, deadpanned a sad look for Kyle’s benefit.
“I can imagine.” Chloe glanced behind her, realized several interested eyes were on her van. “I guess that’s why everyone’s talking.”
“Don’t worry about it. Give ’em some time and they’ll find something new to discuss.” He straightened, pulled up his collar. “I sure hope that’s not snow I feel. The championship game is only a week away. I’d rather not have the girls play in snow.”
“As if!” Madison bobbed up beside them after leaving her groups of friends, her face alight with a happy smile. “I’m starved, Mom.”
“Like that’s anything new.” Chloe brushed the bangs off her forehead, smiled at the blond hair that just could not be kept neat. “Get in the van. I’ve got dinner in the oven.” She slid the door open, waited for Maddy to climb inside then closed it again. “I guess we’ll see you later.” She risked a quick look at Brendan.
“In an hour or so, if that’s okay with you,” he agreed. “I promised Mom I’d eat at the diner today and check out her Pioneer Pie.”
“I thought I’d heard she was away?”
“She is. Quinn and I stop in just to make sure there are no problems. Besides, her staff feed us extras. If I’m lucky I’ll get a big hunk of apple pie to go with my lunch.” He grinned like a little boy who’d snuck a candy from a jar.
Chloe couldn’t help laughing. “I sure hope your metabolism never slows down,” she chuckled, walking around the van.
“Not a chance. I’m a well oiled machine.” He flexed his biceps, made a face at her. “Not an ounce of fat.”
“I wasn’t thinking about your arms,” she told him, then quickly got in the van before any more embarrassing things came out of her mouth.
“Everybody’s a critic.” He held the door open for a second longer. “You’re sure it’s okay for me to come over?”
“You’re more than welcome though I don’t promise to be awake. Last night was disturbingly busy and I’m tired.”
“What happened?”
“More drug cases. They seem to be multiplying.” She slapped a hand over her mouth to stop the yawn. “Sorry. Anyway, come whenever you like. Kyle can feed you cookies or something. Not as good as your mom’s apple pie, I’m sure, but better than dry crusts.”
“Way better. Get some rest, Chloe.” He closed the door, remained in place and watched her back out of the parking space.
Before she drove away, Chloe saw him talking on his cell phone. He was a great-looking guy and genuinely nice as well, so he was probably arranging a date with someone for tonight. She forced her attention back on the road.
It was none of her business what Brendan Montgomery did and it was time she remembered that.
“So this nurse claims they’re getting more drug cases than they’ve had for a while and you think it’s got something to do with this guy you’ve been hearing about—the one contacting Escalante’s old contacts?” Quinn pushed his soup bowl away and rested his elbows on the table. “Mind telling me why?”
“Call it a hunch and several years experience.” Brendan finished the last of his buffalo stew and tried to decide whether or not to eat the puff pastry topping. After all, there was a big slice of pie with his name on it. “You know, this food is great. Mom sure knows how to keep the customers coming back.”
“You’re going to leave a really big tip, aren’t you?” Quinn leaned his head sideways toward the young girl who waited to bring two gargantuan desserts. She’d waited on them so thoroughly they’d barely shared more than five words alone. “She’s smitten.”
“She’s just a kid!” Brendan avoided looking her way. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. Anyhow, I think it’s you she’s after.”
“Probably.” As if that were only normal, Quinn grinned. “Most women find me irresistible. Now tell me about this lady you’ve been babysitting for.”
“Hardly babysitting. Her daughter is seven and her son is fourteen. I just stayed with them when she got called into the hospital because her regular sitter couldn’t come. Chloe’s a single mom. She needs the overtime.” Brendan glanced at his brother to see if he was buying it. No way.
“You’ve always steered away from women who are divorced, Bren. What’s different now?” Concern laced the quiet question.
“Nothing’s different. Chloe’s a nurse who happened to be on duty when the mayor was shot. And she was attacked when she tried to protect him. I got to know her at the hospital. Her son’s having a rough time so I invited him to our model club. That’s it.”
“Sure it is. I saw her this morning, remember?” Quinn’s wry smile said everything. “I suppose you haven’t noticed that she’s got eyes that could haunt you, hair that begs to be touched and legs that should be mega-insured?”
“Not really.” Brendan sipped his coffee.
“Yeah, right. Give me a break.” Quinn snorted his disgust, rose and grabbed his jacket. “Chloe Tanner looks like a starlet. You’d have to be blind not to notice her and you’ve got perfect vision, brother.”
“I noticed.” Brendan only half heard Quinn’s response, his attention snagged by a man striding down the street.
“What’s wrong?” Quinn leaned down, followed his stare. “Who’s that?”
“With that slicked-back hair and close-cropped little beard, it can only be Ritchie Stark.” He watched as the small-time criminal sauntered along the sidewalk, paused and waited for a car to drive up. “He’s mostly into extortion, blackmail, money laundering, maybe some drugs.”
“What do you want him for?” Quinn sat back down, watched as Ritchie spoke with someone in the car.
“To talk to. Chloe told me there have been a slew of drug overdoses at the hospital. Kids mostly, which means somebody’s moving stuff in again, big-time. Given his record, I’m thinking our boy Ritchie has something to do with that.” He leaned forward over the table, trying to follow the man’s progress. “Who’s that?”
“You’ve got me. Looks like they’re working something out though.”
Brendan said nothing, content to watch with Quinn as Ritchie conferred with a tall, lean man who kept his face turned away from them and his hands on Ritchie’s lapel.
“Not a friendly conversation. Does it strike you that guy doesn’t want to be seen?” Quinn asked. “He keeps turning away when a car passes.”
“It strikes me that I’ve seen him before, but I can’t imagine where. Uh-oh.” Brendan held his breath as Dash Finnegan sauntered up to the men, camera swinging from one hand. “That kid is going to get himself killed one of these days.”
“I know Dash looks like a sheep dog with no master, but he takes fantastic pictures. Colleen says she wishes he’d hurry up and finish college so he could come on staff full-time.”
“He’s not going to make it to twenty if he doesn’t watch who he’s associating with.” The moment Ritchie lifted his hand to shield his friend’s face
from the newspaper photographer’s camera, Brendan was on his feet. “Come on. I want to have a word with those two before that kid chases them away.”
He was out the door and down the stairs in a matter of seconds but it was long enough for Ritchie’s friend to disappear. Dash stood frowning at Ritchie, trying to tug his camera out of the man’s hands until the low-level thug saw Brendan and Quinn approach. Ritchie let go and took off running down the street.
“Hey, thanks, dudes. That jerk tried to steal my camera!”
“He’ll steal a lot more than that, if you get too close to him. Do you know who that was?” Brendan stared at the retreating figure and told himself to calm down. It didn’t help, of course. The perps were long gone.
“Yeah, I know one of them. He was at the paper the other day.”
Quinn blinked at Brendan, who grabbed Dash’s shoulder in case he, too, tried to flee.
“You mean Ritchie was?”
“I don’t know any Ritchie. I was talking about the dude in black, the Goth guy. He’s pretty out of date with that outfit. Anyway, he was at the paper a couple of days ago.” Dash checked out his camera, then hugged it close before adjusting the ear buds connected to his iPod. “He was asking a bunch of questions.”
“About what?” Brendan shuffled from one foot to the other, trying to dislodge the uneasiness that had settled in his stomach, and was not due to the enormous lunch he’d just consumed. “What’d he want to know?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t talking to him, Colleen was. Ask her.” Dash turned, glanced down at the hand still holding him in place. “What?”
“I’ll ask her. Later. Right now I want to hear when this was.”
Dash hummed a few bars of something then nodded. “Yeah, I remember. It was the day the mayor got shot. I saw the guy when I came in with the pictures of the crime scene.”
“I saw a copy of the Sentinel that night. They were good shots, Dash. You managed a certain angle nobody else thought of,” Quinn told him.