Holiday Havoc

by Terri Reed

  Maria was finding it hard to concentrate on the conversation at dinner. Her preferred seating position in the room would be in the corner, against the wall. Instead, she and Ben were nowhere near an exit and were surrounded by people. She was beginning to realize that one person couldn’t possibly protect another in a situation like this. Waiters rushed in and out. Even the conference attendees didn’t seem to be sitting still for very long.

  Beside her, one of Ben’s coworkers at Weather 24—a guy named Rich according to his name tag—was leaning around her to talk to Ben. “We were back in the Dominican in August. The nuns at the orphanage were so excited about the beds you donated. My wife and I took about two dozen bedsheets. There have been no beds collapsing in the middle of the night in months. And I don’t think that any children are sharing beds anymore.”

  Ben stabbed a piece of broccoli on his plate. “It helped that you and your wife adopted two of the children.”

  Rich dug in his pocket. He passed a picture to Maria and pointed. “Ana and Elsa. Aren’t they the cutest things you’ve ever seen?”

  They were—bright eyes and pigtails, dressed in matching pink sundresses. “They’re precious. How old are they now?”

  “Four and seven. We found them when Ben was raising money to send to this orphanage in the Dominican Republic that got damaged in a hurricane two years ago. He got my wife and I involved.” He stopped to take a swig of his iced tea. “My wife, Terri, has the biggest heart. Once she saw these little sisters, she knew they were our daughters.”

  Maria looked at Ben, whose eyes were firmly on his plate of food. Raising money for an orphanage? What else did she not know about Ben Storm? She passed the picture to him.

  Ben smiled at the picture of the little girls, then looked up at Rich. “It was a great day for the orphanage when you and Terri got involved.”

  Across the table, a meteorologist named Mitzi spoke up. “That group in Indonesia you set me up with was incredible, too. I still keep in touch with some of the families we worked with after the tsunami.”

  Maria caught Ben’s eye and raised her eyebrow. He shrugged and rolled his eyes as if he had no idea what Mitzi was talking about.

  “I’m still working with the aid group setting up wells in the Sudan after the drought you covered there in 2008,” another weather forecaster put in.

  Ben scratched his head, his cheeks turning a ruddy color. “You guys—”

  “So what’s the craziest weather you’ve ever experienced?” Maria interjected her question as Ben floundered for words. Conversation erupted around the table as each weather geek tried to outdo the other with an over-the-top story.

  Ben’s eyes met hers across the table. He mouthed thanks, then dove into the table talk with, “There was this one time when I was on assignment in the North Atlantic…”

  She hid her smile behind her napkin. He was turning out to be so different than she’d imagined he would be. She’d thought she might be stuck with some kind of prima donna who liked to look at himself in the mirror.

  Instead, she got a guy who wore out the pages of his Bible and didn’t just report the damage that weather events did to remote places, he actually tried to make a difference for the people affected. She could be attracted to a man like that.

  The rubber chicken on the banquet dinner plate suddenly looked even less appealing. Because that idea about Ben was a dangerous, dangerous line of thought. This wasn’t real. It was a setup that her stupid coworkers had gotten her into.

  There were no feelings involved here, on her part or Ben’s. She needed to remember that—think it through. She’d gone beyond classifying Ben as a guy she used to know, or the weatherman she saw on TV sometimes. So what was he, exactly?

  The waiter brought a new glass of water and switched it out with Ben’s. Laughing at some story that Mitzi was telling about a live report in a hailstorm, Ben reached for it.

  “Stop. Don’t drink that.” The conversation at the table ceased, an awkward, stunned silence falling. All eyes went to her.

  But no other glasses at the table tonight had been switched out when empty. They’d been refilled from a central pitcher. She smiled at the waiter. “Could you take that glass away, please?”

  The people sitting at the table with them were looking at her like she’d grown a second head. She stage-whispered, “I saw the waiter’s finger in the glass.”

  There were still a few skeptical looks, but Ben handed the glass back to the waiter with a smile. “I’ll just keep the one I have, thanks.”

  Maria made a face and faked a laugh. “Germ phobic—you can’t be too careful.”

  Everyone stared at her for another moment of uncomfortable silence until Rich said, “Yeah, or you’ll end up like Ben did that time in Mexico with Montezuma’s revenge.”

  Ben held his stomach and laughed. “Thanks for bringing back that memory.”

  “What are friends for?” Rich saluted Ben with his iced tea glass.

  Maria took a deep breath, the first since she’d seen the waiter try to pass the water to Ben. Watching his back—that’s what she was here for. And that’s what she needed to remember.

  Maybe Ben Storm had turned out to be different than she’d expected, but it didn’t matter—couldn’t matter. She nudged him into place in her mind in the “protective custody” slot.

  Anything else was just her imagination.

  Maria shot upright as a scream pierced the air.

  It wasn’t a dream that woke her from the few hours of sleep she’d managed. She picked up her handgun from the bedside table.

  She didn’t allow a moment’s hesitation, just unlocked the door between her suite and the penthouse. Drawing one deep breath and releasing it, she opened the door and stepped through.

  Ben was on the floor with a little boy. The two were surrounded by toy cars. Every time Ben would put one in a line, the pajama-clad boy would scream.

  Maria had four sisters, each with a brood of their own, so she’d spent a bunch of time around kids. She pegged this one to be around four. And since Ben obviously wasn’t in trouble, she turned to go back to her suite, wondering where in the world Ben had picked up a preschooler since she’d said good-night to him, six hours earlier.

  “I hope we didn’t wake you.” Ben’s velvety smooth news voice stopped her as she reached for the doorknob.

  She turned back, took a deep breath and tucked her hair behind her ears. “I’m used to getting up early.”

  “You’re welcome to join us, although if you want quiet, you’d be better off barricading yourself in your suite. My son is ready for breakfast and waiting is not exactly his strong point.”

  “I’m hungry, Dad.” The boy poked Ben with a car.

  Ben looked at Maria, amusement in the wry curve of his lips.

  She swallowed hard and turned away, but she didn’t run back to her suite, instead placing her weapon in a high cabinet where the little one wouldn’t be able to reach it. With a smile, she crossed the room and folded her legs underneath her to sit on the floor. “Hi, bud, I’m Maria.”

  Blondy-brown hair fell over the little kid’s eyes as he dropped his head, burying it in Ben’s armpit.

  “Hey, Capo, we’ve talked about this. What can you say to Maria?”

  A very muffled greeting came from Ben’s shoulder area.

  Maria grinned. “Capo?”

  “His name is Caden, but his mother played the guitar and she used to say that he was her perfect pitch.” Ben’s eyes had a sheen to them and Maria looked at the cars on the floor.

  “Is there a secret to how you’re lining them up?”

  “Yeah, I line them up and he screams when I put them in the wrong place,” Ben said with a laugh, the affection in his eyes sweet as he looked at the little boy. And if she’d built an ice wall around the section of her heart named Ben Storm, as she watched him with Caden, another layer melted.

  Caden walked to the window and placed his palms flat against the glass, looking out at
the ocean.

  “Caden’s on the autistic spectrum. He’s made a ton of progress in therapy—” Ben shrugged. “He doesn’t adjust to change well. The nanny called last night and said that he was freaked that I wasn’t home, so we thought it might be best to bring him over. I know it’s not ideal, given the situation.”

  “No.” Maria watched Caden reach out to touch an ornament on the tree and check himself, looking at his dad. “But if he stays in the suite and his nanny is aware of what’s going on, we should be able to minimize the risk.”

  Ben’s gray eyes were soft with worry as he said, “He’s been through so much change lately. It’s been rough on him. He’ll settle down by this afternoon, I hope. His nanny is in the other adjoining suite, putting his comforter on the bed and setting up some of his things.”

  “You have custody?” She wrapped her arms around her legs, pulling her knees in.

  “His mom died in a car accident two years ago. It’s been tough. And it’s the reason I’m leaving Weather 24 after this weekend.”

  She nodded, watching Caden trail his fingers down the long glass expanse, then she snapped her gaze back to Ben’s as his words sank in. “You’re what?”

  “Caden needs a full-time dad. My job with Weather 24 has me on the road constantly. You heard stories last night—I follow weather events all over the world.” He shrugged, his face carved into a mask of resolve. “I can do the weather at six and ten on the local news channel and be home in between to tuck my son into bed.”

  Maria nudged one of the cars into line. A small voice piped up beside her. “It doesn’t go there.”

  She looked into his very serious big blue eyes. “Okay, Mr. Mechanic, where does it go?”

  He giggled and plopped on his dad’s lap. “Did you hear that, Dad? She called me Mr. Mechanic. Mechanics work on cars.”

  Caden chortled some more as he moved the red car she’d put in the line and put a black one in its place. He picked up an orange car and looked at Maria, his little mouth pursed. “You can put this one by the black one.”

  Ben’s wide eyes told her that she’d passed some kind of major test. She held her hand out for the orange car and very, very carefully placed it next to the black one, making sure the wheels were lined up just right.

  When Caden nodded his approval, she breathed a silent sigh of relief. He was adorable. “You know, Caden, I work in a lab doing experiments. I get really annoyed when people touch my stuff, too.”

  His dark eyelashes flipped up and he gave her a suspicious look. “You do science?”

  “Yep.”

  He picked up the red car and handed it to her. “Are you smart?”

  “Yes.” She placed the red car in the line, again being very careful to get it spaced just right. “So are you.”

  “Yep.” As he placed the next car in the line, a young woman came out of a door to the right of the living area. Maria hadn’t noticed it before, but it was another lockout suite. Apparently, one could rent the penthouse unit they were in now, or the entire floor, if they were all put together.

  “Hey, Caden, I got our rooms all set up. Are you ready for some oatmeal?”

  “I want pancakes.” His blue eyes went from one care provider to another, testing the water.

  Ben ignored Caden’s words, instead turning to Maria. “Maria, I’d like for you to meet our most amazing nanny and therapist, Julia. Julia, this is my friend, Maria.

  “Pancakes!” Caden’s voice was a little louder, a little more frustrated.

  Ben lifted his son into his arms as he stood. “Julia fixed oatmeal for breakfast. You can have pancakes when we get home.”

  “Want pancakes.” Caden’s bottom lip poked out and might even have quivered a little bit. “With blueberries.”

  “I know, bud. Let’s go have some yummy oatmeal. We’ll put some brown sugar in it.” Ben looked at the nanny, who nodded. “Maria?”

  “Thanks, but no. I just need coffee.” She was already backing away. Cowardly of her, yes, but watching Ben Storm with his little boy made him all the more human to her.

  As Maria poured her cup of coffee, her cell phone rang. She walked back to her suite of rooms, finding the phone beside her bed.

  Chloe Rollins didn’t waste any words when Maria answered. “I got the lab report this morning on those candies you gave me last night. Someone definitely tried to kill your weatherman. There was a very fine coating of peanut dust on the candies.”

  The warmth of the cup did nothing to warm Maria’s suddenly chilled fingers. “Thanks, Chloe. I guess that means it’s time for me to get some answers.”

  Another trip across the large penthouse to the other lockout suite and she was right where she didn’t want to be, watching Ben be a daddy to his son.

  Maria was out of her element. Kids, great—she had a dozen nieces and nephews she adored. Adults, great. People in danger, she could deal. Put all three together in this appealing package and she was struggling to remember that this—her being a part of this, anyway—wasn’t real. She was just one very small, relatively insignificant piece of Ben’s plan.

  Chaos. She needed science.

  “You changed your mind about organic steel-cut oats?”

  Ben’s smile faded as he took in her expression. “What’s up?”

  “We need to talk.”

  Ben stood and grabbed a jacket off the counter with a pointed look at Caden. “Let’s take a walk.”

  Maria hesitated. Ideally, she would want a whole team of trained protection personnel for an outside detail. But as cold as it was, there would be few beachcombers this early, making it easier for her to identify a threat.

  Now that she knew the candies had been deliberately tampered with, it was even more vital that she stay alert. Ben’s life depended on it.

  FOUR

  The surf tossed and rolled, the breeze chilly. Ben pulled his windbreaker up around his neck and turned to Maria, who was scanning the resort behind them. “You were really great with Capo this morning. Thanks.”

  “I like kids. They mean what they say.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  “He’s come a long way. Right after his mother died, I started realizing there was a problem. With autism, early intervention is essential. He does hours of therapy every day, which he mostly thinks is play, thanks to Julia.” He reached for Maria’s arm and turned her to face him. “What’s going on?”

  The wind tossed her hair and she pushed it back with an impatient hand. “We found peanut dust on the candies. It’s no longer a possibility that you ate something by accident. Someone tried to kill you. I need you to tell me everything.”

  The sudden constriction in his chest had nothing to do with peanut dust and everything to do with the knowledge that someone really was out to get him.

  He shook his head and walked away. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t talk about it. He just didn’t know where to start.

  Maria stepped into place beside him, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “Why don’t you tell me about the first contact?”

  “The first was a note about two years ago, shortly before my wife’s car accident. It was on the back of a black-and-white photo of Lindsay and Caden at the park. All it said was, ‘Are they safe?’”

  Her eyebrows drew together, golden-sparked eyes serious. “What did you do?”

  “Warned Lindsay, got a monitored alarm system, told security at the network. But her accident wasn’t very long after that first contact and, after that, I didn’t think about anything but surviving one day at a time with Capo for a long, long time.” He stopped, kicked at the sand.

  He could see Maria’s wheels turning as she rubbed her hands together. “Did you tell the police who investigated your wife’s accident about the note?”

  “Yes, her death—” there was still the barest hesitation as he said it “—was ruled accidental. She ran into a tree.”

  A small frown appeared at the corner of Maria’s mouth. “What next?”

/>   “I was fighting for custody of Capo, trying to keep my job from the vultures who would try to take it every time I had to take a day off or turn down a trip. You can’t imagine.” Even now, the memories of that time ran together in a blur.

  “Was it your in-laws that wanted Caden?”

  “In a sense. He’d just been diagnosed with autism. My brother-in-law and his wife petitioned the court, arguing that an intact and stable family would be better for Caden than living with a grief-stricken father who traveled most of the time for his job.” Ben scrubbed a hand over his eyes, rubbing the memory away. If only it were really that easy.

  “Is that when you hired Julia?”

  He nodded. “I needed someone who could help with his therapeutic needs but also give him continuity of care when I travel. It’s been so worth it.”

  The temperature was dropping quickly, the way it sometimes did this time of year. Maria blew into her hands, a futile attempt at warming them. His gear was made for all weather—he wrapped his warm hands around her cold ones and pulled her in, sheltering her from the wind.

  He smiled down into Maria’s wide eyes. “I’ve been dreading this weekend ever since the powers-that-be came up with the idea. But you’ve made it really easy, despite all the drama. Thanks.”

  Her teeth bit into her full lower lip, but she shook her head. “Not a problem.”

  She stepped away from him, but he kept one hand as they turned to walk back toward the resort. Small and feminine, her hand completely disappeared into his until she pulled it out to swap sides with him.

  “My job is pretty high profile. It’s silly, really. I’m a meteorologist, just like a lot of other people who predict the weather on television. But there are those couple of guys who hate my guts and would love to take the job away from me. Do I think one of them would resort to murder? No, but what do I know?” He blew out a frustrated breath.

  “Do they know that you’re leaving?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t tell anyone until the official announcement. I signed a contract that effectively binds my hands. I’ll announce it tomorrow night, and then do my last weather report Saturday night after the Christmas ball.”