A Matter of Trust (The Boston Five Series #5)

by Poppy J. Anderson

  He looked at her silently.

  She returned his gaze earnestly. “No matter what it is, I’m here for you, okay?”

  “Okay,” the little guy murmured despondently.

  “You know why I’m here today, right?”

  He nodded and closed the book in his lap. “Kyle wants to be my foster father. I’m supposed to move into his apartment.”

  “Yes, that’s right.” Morgan cocked her head as she asked, “What do you think of that idea?”

  “Honestly?” Cody looked at her with a disheartened expression.

  “Honestly. You can tell me whatever you think, and I promise you I won’t tell anybody.”

  The ten-year-old studied her with a look of hesitation and fidgeted on his bed. “I’d really, really like to live with Kyle.”

  Cautiously, she probed, “But?”

  Cody chewed on his lower lip. “I like Kyle a lot,” the boy explained hastily. “He’s always nice and patient with me, and he comforts me when I’m scared.”

  Morgan took a deep breath. “Cody, it’s okay if you don’t want to live with Kyle …”

  “But I do!” Cody interrupted quickly. “I want to live with Kyle!”

  She knitted her brows, slightly puzzled. “Then what’s bothering you, Cody?”

  The boy swallowed, appearing torn and sad. “I think … I’m scared that it’s not okay for me to be so happy about moving into Kyle’s house.”

  “Why wouldn’t that be okay?” Morgan asked gently. “It’s good that you have something to look forward to, and that you’re happy about leaving the hospital.”

  The boy’s eyes welled with tears. “What would Mom and Dad say if they knew I’m so happy about living with a stranger?” His voice broke. “I should be sad, you know.”

  “Oh, honey.” Morgan put a comforting hand on Cody’s narrow shoulder. “It’s completely okay to be looking forward to your new home. There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m sure your mom and dad would be happy that you’re better. That you’re not alone.”

  “I don’t have to be sad?”

  Her smile was probably pathetic. “No, you don’t have to be sad. You really don’t have to, Cody.”

  “Okay.” The boy gave her a wide smile, causing a maelstrom of chaotic feelings inside her.

  It was still churning when she left his room an hour later for Cody to attend his physical therapy session. She hadn’t expected her meeting with the boy to take that long, but the little guy made it so easy to want to spend time with him and distract him from all his pain. In fact, he was so charming that she’d had a hard time saying goodbye at all. He endeared himself to others quickly, whether you wanted it to happen or not.

  Yes, whether she wanted to or not, she headed for the ER. She knew Kyle was on duty. He hadn’t been allowed to stay for her conversation with Cody—and he hadn’t even tried to argue otherwise when they’d met in the hallway almost two hours ago. It was strange to see him in his lab coat—different. He’d looked more serious, respectable and sturdy. But his smile and the gaze from his light-brown eyes had been the same.

  Stupid old heart.

  Of course Morgan knew she didn’t have to tell him how her conversation with his charge had gone. She could have just driven straight home, but before she could even consider that option, she was already standing at the front desk of the ER asking if she might see him.

  The coordinator didn’t need to page Kyle on his beeper, since he was already there, grabbing Morgan by the elbow from behind. He wasn’t wearing his white doctor’s coat, just scrubs, the kind made to be whipped off quickly if things got bloody—which they often did in the ER. For a moment Morgan was afraid she would be sick. She couldn’t even watch TV shows set in hospitals without feeling queasy, and in the last few weeks, she’d become even more sensitive about blood and death.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  She blinked at Kyle like she’d only just registered that he was there. She shook her head quickly to banish any thought of the inner workings of an ER. “Sure. I just wanted to say goodbye really quickly.”

  Without a word, Kyle led her into a nearby room that was a gigantic, messy locker room. Apparently this was where the doctors and nurses kept their personal belongings—and changed into their scrubs. It smelled of old sports socks, along with stale food and cold coffee, making Morgan wonder how the department of public health hadn’t closed this place a long time ago.

  “May I ask how it went?” Kyle said.

  “Yes, but I won’t tell you what Cody and I talked about,” Morgan replied automatically, shaking her head when Kyle offered her a cup of coffee. She shuddered as she watched him pour himself a cup.

  “I’m not asking that. I just want to know if you guys got along.”

  “How could anyone not get along with Cody?” Morgan shifted her bag on her shoulder. “The kid’s so charming it’s incredible.”

  When she saw Kyle’s proud smile, she felt her knees go weak.

  “I knew you’d like him.”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “You didn’t have to be clairvoyant to see that.”

  They were both silent, and Morgan wondered if she was the only one remembering when they’d last met—when Kyle had kissed her before leaving. He’d also told her that they would continue their conversation, but so far that hadn’t happened. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or annoyed.

  Kyle put down his cup, though he hadn’t taken a single sip of coffee, and buried his hands in his pockets. He broke the silence by clearing his throat. “Listen, Morgan, about us … I really need to explain … I never meant to hurt you, and there was no ulterior motive involved in telling you that I was a paramedic. I have no idea why I did that.”

  She looked at him in silence, waiting for more.

  Kyle sighed heavily. “It’s all so messed up now. All I know is that I wanted to get to know you and spend time with you—and simultaneously I came to the decision that I want to be Cody’s foster father. Somewhere in there, I screwed up.”

  He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know. Her own head was a chaotic mess, too. One voice kept telling her that Kyle’s motives were sound, and that the lie about being a paramedic wasn’t such a big deal after all, but there was also the other voice, the one that whispered from time to time that something had to be wrong with Kyle. The man was just too perfect, and he had an answer to everything. What if he was still lying to her? What if he hurt her again? And what if she put a child into his care, and he didn’t take his task seriously enough?

  Or worse.

  “You mean a lot to me, Morgan. A whole lot. I should have told you the last time we saw each other.”

  She was not ready to discuss their relationship in a locker room that smelled of old socks and unsavory substances, so she cleared her throat and asked with genuine curiosity, “Where did you have to go when your beeper went off anyway? Was it an emergency here at the hospital?”

  For a moment, he seemed disappointed that she was changing the subject, but then he shrugged and gave her a weak smile. “It was more of a family emergency.”

  “Oh!” She opened her mouth in shock. “Did someone have an accident?”

  He immediately shook his head. “No. Not at all. Nothing bad happened. It was about my mom.” He sighed. “For the first time since my dad died, she’s seeing someone, and my sister flipped out when she found out. She called us in for a powwow, and we all had to tell her to chill, basically.”

  Morgan wasn’t familiar with anything like a siblings’ council of war. She had never experienced this kind of mutual concern for one’s parent’s welfare, so she merely stared at him in puzzled fascination. Though she worked with families on a daily basis, she’d never had much of a family life herself. Living with a great-aunt or even a well-meaning foster mother couldn’t give her an idea of what his family powwow might look like.

  “And what do you think of your mother dating again?”

  Kyle looked down at the
floor, and for a moment, he didn’t seem like the tall, broad-shouldered pediatrician with a winsome smile, but more like an indecisive boy. “My dad’s been dead for eight years now, and I think it’s high time my Mom is happy again. But it’s also hard to wrap my head around the idea that there could be a man in her life besides my dad. Does that sound selfish?”

  “It doesn’t sound selfish to me,” she replied truthfully, “but I’m probably not the best person to ask, since I not only don’t have any siblings, but I also don’t even know my biological mother.”

  “Shit,” he murmured guiltily. “Why can’t I ever do anything right around you?”

  Morgan smiled a little. “My unconventional family’s really the least of my worries, so …”

  When he came closer and slid his hand into his back pocket, she blinked at him in breathless confusion. “What are you doing?”

  Without a word, he pulled out his wallet and held out a photograph picturing so many people that she felt dizzy.

  “Late last night it occurred to me that I never told you that Ryan is my twin brother. So before you run into him somewhere and think he’s me, you should know that we look alike.”

  “You have a twin?”

  Morgan’s gaze traveled the picture until she found the exact copy of the man before her, who now stated without a hint of irony, “Of course I’m the far more attractive twin, and I’m also a lot more pleasant.”

  “Of course,” she echoed with a chuckle, before taking the photo from him and looking at it for about a full minute. Kyle looked very much at home in the midst of his siblings, whom Morgan could easily identify, since they all looked extremely similar to each other. Yes, he fit right in with the rest of this happy-looking, mischievous bunch. He also looked happy in the picture. He did now, too, even if he still wore that hangdog expression.

  Then curiosity got the better of her. “It occurred to you late last night that you hadn’t told me about your twin? What made you suddenly think of that?”

  Kyle lowered his head, and only then did she feel how close he really was, with his body heat radiating onto her skin. His voice was a quiet murmur. “For days I’ve been thinking about little but you, Morgan. I’m racking my brain trying to figure out how to set things straight between us.”

  She felt a lump in her throat when she tilted back her head and looked up into his face, which was inching closer to hers. Before he got the chance to kiss her and sweep away her ability for rational thought, she stopped him. She placed a hand on his broad chest and shook her head halfheartedly.

  “Don’t.”

  “Morgan …”

  “We can’t do this, Kyle.”

  “You’re still angry.” He sounded contrite.

  She chewed on her lower lip for a moment, then took a deep breath. “That’s not the point,” she declared firmly. “I’m in charge of Cody’s case, and thus also of his well-being. In this function, I can’t let you kiss me. This has to be done in a professional manner—or not at all.”

  “But I—”

  He couldn’t go on, because the door of the rec room was pushed open, and an older nurse’s urgent gaze flew to Kyle. “We just got an eight-year-old girl who suffered a fall down the basement stairs.”

  “I’ll be right out,” Kyle assured her quickly.

  The dark-skinned nurse balled her hands into fists. “The girl’s mother told me several times it was an accident,” she grumbled. “But she’s been here three times herself with various fractures. If you ask me, you need to alert the authorities.”

  Morgan’s ears perked up, and she heard herself say, “If there are signs of domestic violence, DCF will be in charge. Where’s the girl?”

  Before she could take a step forward, Kyle grabbed her arm and said calmly but firmly, “Let me examine her first, Morgan.”

  She gave him a fierce look, which he returned in kind. “Fine, but I’m joining you.”

  ***

  Eight-year-old Holly didn’t seem to have any injuries from her “fall” down a flight of stairs, apart from a few small bruises. But the spots on the back of her neck, which had hardly had time to pale and disappear, indicated her repeated “falls.” Morgan didn’t need a formal medical education to distinguish between fresh bruises and older hematoma. And she’d heard plenty of anxious mothers—with their own bruises—tell her that their kids were clumsy or tended to stumble and “fall” a lot.

  But this particular mother had no explanation for the blood in the little girl’s underwear.

  Holly’s mom, whose black eye was probably just another souvenir from her violent husband, had to wait outside the examination room while they looked at her daughter.

  The frightened girl was lying on the examination table wearing nothing but a tiny hospital gown, and she looked up at Morgan with eyes that were dark pools of sadness and pain. The nurses placed a small sheet over her lower body. The blinds on the windows to the hall were closed, and the door of the examination room was locked.

  Morgan sat on a stool next to the girl’s head and held up a children’s book with funny drawings. “Do you want to read this with me, Holly?” She gave the little girl an encouraging smile. “I’m sure you can read that, right?”

  Holly nodded reluctantly and then read aloud, “When the sun was shining, the three princesses Cara, Sara, and Mara went out into the castle garden every day. They played hide-and-seek by the pond.”

  “Awesome,” Morgan praised her, using the biggest smile she could muster as she turned the page. “Can you read this page, honey?”

  The girl nodded gravely. “Cara liked to hide behind trees. Sara’s favorite hiding place was behind the bushes. But Mara discovered an old well.”

  “Very good, Holly. Do you see the old well in the picture?”

  The girl nodded. “Behind the tall tree.”

  She wasn’t paying attention to Kyle, who was sitting on a second stool at the foot of the examination table, murmuring something to a nurse while he put set cotton swabs and plastic tubes on the tray next to him. “Exactly,” Morgan said. “The well is behind the tall tree.”

  “Holly?” Kyle’s deep, soothing voice interrupted them as he raised his head and looked at the girl. “There was a little blood in your underwear, so we have to look to see if you have any injuries. Do you want Nurse Anne to examine you, or is it okay if I do that?”

  “You can do it,” Holly whispered. Morgan had watched the little girl build an immediate trust in Kyle when he had first taken a look at the bruises on her arms and neck.

  When Kyle’s eyes met hers, Morgan nodded and resumed distracting Holly with the children’s book, while Kyle resumed his examination. She didn’t let on that she was anxious to hear what the verdict would be, but she listened closely when Kyle spoke quietly to the silent nurse.

  “… complete transection of the hymen …”

  Morgan swallowed hard, complimented Holly on pronouncing a difficult word correctly, and felt her stomach turn. For heaven’s sake—the girl was only eight years old!

  “Holly?” She searched the little girl’s eyes. “Can you tell me if your daddy hurt you? In your underwear maybe?”

  Something flashed brightly in those sad eyes. “Daddy said it’s a secret.”

  “I understand.” Morgan nodded. “But it is important that we know if your daddy hurt you. Your mom told us that you fell down the stairs to the basement. Is that true?”

  The girl’s eyes were unsteady, nervous. “Ms. Schneider is my teacher, and she says we shouldn’t lie.”

  “Ms. Schneider is right.”

  “But … but I’ll be in trouble if I tell you,” Holly whispered in a frightened hush.

  “No.” Morgan shook her head and closed the book. “No, you’re not in trouble, my love. Dr. Fitzpatrick and I will make sure that nobody gets angry with you. I promise.”

  Holly looked at her with a wavering expression. “But will Mommy be in trouble if she lied?”

  Morgan took Holly’s hand and squeez
ed it gently. “I’m guessing that your mom is really worried about you. And if she lied, she didn’t do it for bad reasons.”

  The girl’s chin trembled. “Mommy lied,” she whispered unhappily. “We don’t have a basement.”

  “Okay,” Morgan replied, whispering as well. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

  Holly’s whisper was hardly audible, and Morgan strained to hear what she was saying. “Daddy … Daddy sometimes hurts me … down there.”

  “I understand, Holly.” Her own voice sounded off in Morgan’s ears.

  When she looked up again, she met Kyle’s eyes and shrank back. She saw something in his gaze that she had never before witnessed in him: fury.

  And in that exact moment, there was a noisy commotion near the front of the examination room, on the other side of the closed door. A muffled voice yelled, “Where is my daughter? I want to see her now!”

  Holly cringed and clutched Morgan’s hand, panicked. Kyle jumped up from his stool and tore open the door.

  Morgan gasped in shock. “Kyle!”

  Chapter 11

  “I don’t think he’s going to press charges, Kyle. The guy’s blood-alcohol level is astronomical, he resisted arrest, and his criminal record is juicy. The witnesses all testified that he attacked you, and you acted in self-defense.”

  With a glance at the policeman who’d attended the academy with Shane, Kyle tilted his head back to stop the blood flow from his nose. “I would have busted the guy’s ass, Mick, if I—”

  The hospital’s lawyer cleared his throat loudly. “Dr. Fitzpatrick, for your own good, I can’t allow you to finish that sentence. In the event of a lawsuit, anything you say could be held against you.”

  Kyle scowled at the dry lawyer, who would have gotten a piece of Kyle’s mind, too, if Morgan hadn’t been standing by the window of the examination room, studying him with a frown. He was still livid with a rage that had not been alleviated by the brawl in the hallway of the ER, but he swallowed his words before he could make it even worse.