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

by Poppy J. Anderson

  He did sigh, however, and defend himself. “The man sexually abuses his eight-year-old daughter and beats his wife!”

  The spindly lawyer with the pointy nose gave Mick a questioning look. “You took down Dr. Fitzpatrick’s statement, correct, Officer? Anything else he says after that stays off the record.”

  Kyle could see the policeman was close to telling the lawyer what he thought of the situation, too. Mick merely shrugged instead. “Say hi to your brother, Kyle.”

  Kyle didn’t reply but waited for the cop to leave the room and close the door before rounding on the lawyer. “Did you speak to the mother? She needs to file for a restraining order and report the disgusting asshole!”

  When the lawyer didn’t respond, Kyle looked at Morgan, belatedly realizing that his nose was still bleeding. As soon as he thought of the piece of shit sitting a few rooms down the hall, handcuffed to a hospital bed, the murderous fury welled up in him again, and he saw nothing but red. “How is Holly? Is the psychologist with her?”

  “Dr. Fitzpatrick, I’d advise you to stay away from both the girl and her parents, and to take the next few days off.”

  Kyle couldn’t believe his ears. “What? The girl is my patient, and I’m not going—”

  “You fought with the girl’s father in front of the entire emergency room and bashed in his nose,” the lawyer interrupted in a monotonous drawl that sounded as bit like he was reading a menu aloud.

  Kyle felt he was going to explode. “The man sexually abused his eight-year-old kid!”

  “Which means he is a case for the district attorney, not for a pediatrician who thinks he’s the avenging angel.”

  Kyle’s face fell. “Excuse me? The guy attacked me, and his BAC was so high it would have been sufficient to get half the Irish countryside drunk! There’s no way in hell I’ll take a day off because of that worthless bastard. And I’m going to continue to care for Holly! The girl trusts me.”

  “You’re going to take more than a day off,” the lawyer corrected firmly as he began typing something into his Blackberry. “And you’ll stay away from the girl, you hear me? One of your colleagues is already taking care of her.”

  Kyle was outraged. “But I can’t—”

  “That has already been discussed with hospital management, Dr. Fitzpatrick. And if the police should contact you again, you’re not to give a statement without me present.”

  Silently, Kyle watched the lawyer finally leave the room, and then he vented his anger by jumping up from the table, throwing the bloodied gauze bandages into the trash, and yelling, “What an asshole! I’m not going to let a slimy lawyer tell me what to do!”

  He barely registered that Morgan didn’t answer as he marched over to the sink to wash his bloody nose, which, fortunately, was not broken. His knuckles were scraped, but that didn’t bother him. He actually still felt a little satisfaction as he recalled how the bastard’s nose had fractured beneath his fist. If he could have done it, he’d have broken every single bone in the man’s body.

  The goddamned pig!

  Kyle clutched at the sink with both hands, squeezing with all his strength to avoid blowing a fuse again, for he felt the fury rising within him as soon as he allowed himself to think about the perverted asshole. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth with so much force he felt his teeth might crack at any moment. It was as if his brain was bathed in a red mist.

  He didn’t look at Morgan as he asked, “How is Holly doing?”

  It took a few seconds for her to answer. “The nurse stayed with her until the psychologist arrived. And she asked after her mom …”

  “What a mom!” he raged, wanting to tear the sink from the wall. “A woman who didn’t bother interfering when her husband abused her own daughter!”

  When Morgan spoke next, her voice also sounded furious—but her anger didn’t seem to be directed toward Holly’s mom… “Have you even bothered to look at the woman?” she demanded. “She was so scared when her husband showed up here that she peed her pants, Kyle! Holly’s mother is a victim as well!”

  He pivoted on his heel. “The woman is an adult—her daughter is only eight years old! It’s her goddamn job as a mother to watch over the kid!”

  “And who watches over her?” The corners of Morgan’s mouth curved downward, and she shook her head in disappointment. “I’d have expected some sympathy for the woman from a man like you.”

  “SYMPATHY?” He pointed toward the door. “You were there, weren’t you?”

  Her angry glare hit him like a kick to the gut. “I was there when you burst from the room like a maniac, when you went out after that asshole instead of staying with your little patient, who was scared to death!”

  Kyle balled his hands into fists. “What was I supposed to do? That bastard …” He shuddered with disgust and moved to hit the wall.

  “Your fit of rage doesn’t help anyone, least of all your patients!”

  He let his hand drop as he spun toward her. “You have no idea—”

  “Believe me, I do!”

  Kyle took a shuddering breath. “You have no idea what we see here every day.”

  Morgan was close to exploding now. “Oh, and you think my job involves entertaining house visits with coffee and pie? I deal with children like Holly and Cody every single day, Kyle, so don’t tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about!”

  “We need to examine and treat these kids, Morgan. It’s a different ball game altogether.”

  He saw her eyes narrow, her gaze reflecting how angry she was. “You’re not serious right now?”

  “When these kids come here …” He briefly closed his eyes. “You can’t imagine what we see here and what those kids go through.”

  “I assure you I can imagine it all too well.”

  “Morgan—”

  “Shut up,” she hissed. “And let me tell you exactly what I know.”

  She fixed her stare on him, pressed her lips together, and appeared to search for the best words. Finally, she began, “Until I was seven years old, I lived with my dad, who beat me whenever something bothered him. It bothered him that he had to spend money on food and clothes for me. It bothered him that my mother had left him with an infant, and it bothered him that none of my four stepmothers could bear to live with him for more than a few months.

  “And do you know what bothered my fourth stepmother?” Morgan paused, looking frozen—brittle, fragile. “She didn’t like to be bothered when she was watching talk shows. She liked to grab the iron and burn me with it. When my teacher got wind of it, she contacted DCF, and I was sent to live with my great-aunt.” She looked up, pinning him with his stare. “But please, tell me again how I have no idea what you deal with here every day.”

  He felt chilled to the bone. In a daze, he stared at the red-haired woman’s glittering eyes. And his anger evaporated. Instead, he felt a painful urge to be close to her, to take her into his arms.

  She did not feel the same way.

  “My job is to see to it that children are taken care of in the best possible way, and I do whatever I can to find the best solution for these children, because I know how they feel.” She stuck out her chin and gave him an accusatory glare. “Until half an hour ago, I thought that Cody couldn’t find a better foster father than you. But then I saw you attack this man. Under these circumstances, I can’t recommend you as a foster father. I am sorry.”

  Kyle felt as if someone had just clubbed him over the head. “What? You’re telling me I’m not a suitable foster father because I was concerned about a little girl’s well-being? Because I stood up for her?”

  “You did not stand up for her!” Morgan objected immediately. “You gave free rein to your anger, Kyle.”

  “Bullshit!”

  “You lost control,” she continued. “You went ballistic. How could I put a child into your custody under these circumstances?”

  His shoulders slumped with incredulity. “Are you trying to punish me for the fact that we’re fi
ghting right now? Because I can’t relate to Holly’s mother? Or is this about me lying to you?”

  Morgan shook her head angrily. “This is not about us!”

  “Of course it is. How could you be objective when it comes to our situation with Cody?” He had reached the limits of what he could bear and exhaled loudly. “Please don’t punish Cody because you’re mad at me, Morgan.”

  “You may not believe it, but I’m thinking only of Cody,” she snarled at him. “How can I put him into your care knowing you are capable of such violence?”

  His mouth hung open. “Violence?” he repeated.

  Morgan pointed toward the door. “You smashed in his nose!”

  “Because he deserved it!” Kyle all but yelled. “The man hurt his helpless, eight-year-old daughter! Someone has to step up and show him he can’t get away with that!”

  “Yes!” Morgan was close to yelling herself. “But that’s not your job!”

  “Goddammit, listen—”

  “No!” she snapped, giving him another accusatory look. “You need to take a good look at yourself right now, and then ask yourself why I can’t, in good faith, recommend you as a foster father!”

  He grabbed his hair in despair, wanting to tear it out. “For heaven’s sake, Morgan,” he whispered in horror, “do you really believe, even for a second, that I could hurt a hair on Cody’s head?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied, breathing heavily. “I no longer know anything when it comes to you.”

  Then she stormed from the room, leaving him alone with his bloody nose.

  Chapter 12

  “What happened to you? Were you in an accident?”

  Kyle made a face, but then immediately moaned, because wrinkling his injured nose sent a dagger of pain straight to his brain.

  “No, Mom,” he assured his frantic mother. He’d just walked into her house, admittedly looking quite a sight, and planted a kiss on her cheek. “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine,” Ellen Fitzpatrick murmured as she wiped her hands on a dish towel. “You look as if you were in a fight with a bulldozer—and lost.”

  “You should see the other guy,” Kyle joked dryly.

  “I’d rather not.” She wrinkled her nose. “What happened?”

  “Why can’t I shake the feeling that if I tell you I’m going to be grounded like a teenager?” Kyle sighed and headed for the kitchen, where he grabbed an apple from the credenza and bit into it. His mom followed him slowly, almost hesitantly, then went back to the sink but stood with her back to the dirty dishes. She studied her youngest son, who took a seat at the kitchen table.

  “Well?”

  “I had a little altercation with a drunk patient in the ER,” Kyle lied, because he knew his mom wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight if he told her about little Holly. He didn’t even know whether he would be able to sleep tonight. “No big deal.”

  She wrinkled her nose again, giving him a skeptical look. “No big deal? That looks like a big enough deal to me.”

  “Because you’re my loving mother.” He bit into the apple again and smiled at her. “It’s your job to be concerned.”

  “Did you put some ice on it to prevent swelling?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He nodded like an obedient child.

  His mother squinted at him and then slapped him with the dish towel. “Why am I getting the feeling you’re making fun of me, Kyle Rhys Fitzpatrick?”

  “I would never,” he professed gently and cocked his head. “Why don’t you sit down with me so we can talk?”

  He watched his mother hesitate and shift her weight nervously. “What do you want to talk about, honey?” she asked, her voice sounding more high-pitched all of a sudden.

  “I’d like to talk to you about your boyfriend, Mom. The guy you’re keeping a secret from the whole family.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “Please, Kyle. Your sister already got terribly upset—”

  “Mom,” he interrupted quickly. “I’m not upset. I’m just surprised you haven’t said a word.”

  “But Kayleigh said—”

  Kyle rolled his eyes as he interrupted, “Kayleigh is a special case. Let’s talk about Bill instead. That is his name, right?”

  “Yes, that is his name.” His mom studied him indecisively. “Are you sure you want to talk about Bill? There’s so much going on in your life right now. What’s the status of DCF’s review of your circumstances?”

  After the way the day had gone so far, and especially after the fight with Morgan, Kyle had lost nearly all hope of getting custody of Cody. But how could he tell his mother what a mess he’d gotten himself into? He couldn’t tell her he’d fallen in love with a woman who had not only turned out to be a caseworker with DCF, but also thought him capable of the worst sort of things. Nor could he tell his mother that he was incredibly scared of speaking to Morgan—he wanted to apologize, but had no idea how to do that. On one of their first dates, she’d told him about her difficult childhood, but when they had argued today, he’d blanked on that fact. Instead, all he’d been thinking about was the righteous feeling of breaking a child molester’s nose. But now, he couldn’t shake the shameful feeling of having acted without any consideration for Morgan.

  He should be more considerate with his mom, too.

  He wanted to start with that today.

  “I would actually really like to talk to you about Bill,” he replied calmly. “Ryan seems to like him a lot.”

  His mom gave him a look that suggested she was having a hard time believing what he’d just said. Reluctantly, she took a seat. “Did Ryan say that?”

  “You know Ryan.” He put the apple core on a small plate that had been sitting on the table. “He rarely ever admits his affection for anyone, but he said Bill’s a good guy who adores you.”

  It was a new and somewhat strange experience to see his mother blush like a schoolgirl.

  “That’s what Ryan told you?”

  He raised his hand to swear. “Yes, he did, Mom. Ryan thought Bill was really nice. So when will we get to meet him?”

  “Kyle.” She squirmed. “I don’t know whether that’s such a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Why? Is he married?”

  His mom gasped in outrage. “No! Bill is a widower, and he has been for three years!”

  “Then maybe he’s a Presbyterian?” Kyle guessed again.

  His mother’s reaction was another disdainful gasp. “We met at one of the afternoon teas the church organizes!”

  “I see.” Kyle was beginning to enjoy this cat-and-mouse game. He gave her a mock horrified look and whispered, “He’s not a vegetarian, is he?”

  “Kyle, you are impossible,” his mom whined, half amused and half desperate. “Bill is nothing of the sort.”

  “Then why are you hiding him from us?”

  She shrugged one helpless shoulder. “What happens if you don’t like him?”

  He raised both eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t we like him if you do?”

  “I’ve never gone out with any man in all these years.”

  “Exactly,” Kyle agreed. “It was high time for you to find someone you like.”

  “Kyle,” she murmured sheepishly. “I’m just trying to be considerate of your feelings.”

  “Are you talking about Kayleigh again?”

  Ellen Fitzpatrick sighed heavily. “I meant you children.”

  “Mom, listen.” His lips twisted into an amused smile. “We’re all grown-ups, and believe it or not, if you’re happy again, we’re actually happy for you. Kayleigh will calm down as soon as her hormones stop wreaking havoc with her rational brain. But why did you think you had to keep your boyfriend from us out of consideration?”

  Avoiding his gaze, she murmured, “Because I feel guilty.”

  He blinked at her, genuinely confused. “But why?”

  “I was afraid you might be mad at me for going out with a man who’s not your dad
.”

  Kyle reached for his mother’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “Dad has been dead for eight years now, Mom. We all miss him, but we would never be mad with you for meeting someone new.”

  Apparently today was a day of strong emotions, Kyle told himself uneasily, when he saw his mom’s eyes well with tears. “I want you kids to know that I will never forget your father—and that I will always love you. Bill is not in competition with Joseph.”

  “And I don’t think you even need to mention that, because we all know it.” He gave her an encouraging smile. “We only care that you’re happy. And that Bill is a nice guy. He is a nice guy, isn’t he?”

  “Yes.” Finally, her smile seemed to be genuine. “Yes, he is.”

  He wasn’t going to tell his mom, but despite everything he’d just said, he knew he would need some time to get used to the fact that there would be a man at her side again—a man who wasn’t Joseph Fitzpatrick. Nevertheless, he announced with great sincerity, “I’d really love to meet Bill, Mom, and I know the others feel the same way. Why don’t you invite him to Sunday dinner?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “What about your sister, though?”

  “What about her? If she doesn’t behave like an adult, we’ll lock her up in the basement. We probably should have done that a long time ago. Problem solved.” He drummed his fingers on the tabletop in a show of impatience. “So, will you invite Bill next Sunday? My brothers and I will get a kick out of putting him to the test.”

  When his mother groaned loudly, he grinned at her.

  ***

  When she got home, Morgan registered that, strangely, she wasn’t surprised to see Kyle waiting for her out front. Again.

  “Are you forming a habit of waiting in front of my door?” she asked with disconcerting calm as she stood before him, grocery bag in hand.

  He knit his brows and stated, “You don’t sound angry anymore.”

  A few hours earlier, they’d yelled at each other, both emotionally charged, struggling to make themselves heard. Now they were face to face again, but Morgan sensed that the anger and fury had subsided completely. Instead, there was exhaustion, sadness, and resignation. On days like today, Morgan asked herself why she’d picked this sort of job out of all the possible careers. Why she exposed herself to more of the terrible misery she’d successfully overcome in her own life, throughout a catastrophic childhood. These depressing thoughts were running through her brain when she replied in a hollow voice, “Why should I be mad?”