Secret Agent Father

by Laura Scott

  “But the infants don’t go outside in the winter.” Shelby’s eyes filled with tears. “I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to one of my children. Never.”

  Alex gently squeezed her hands trying to offer strength and support. “Shelby, this isn’t your fault. No one will blame you.”

  What was going on? Why the sudden act of violence? At this late stage in the game, especially after Trina’s death, it didn’t make sense.

  Unless there had been a tracking device on her car. And this was some sort of bizarre warning.

  Shelby looked like she was in a daze repeating, “My children, my children,” over and over again.

  Helpless, Alex speared Rafe with a hard look. “Do you really think it’s still a good idea for Shelby and Cody to go to the funeral?” he demanded.

  “Alex,” Rafe started, but he was quickly interrupted.

  “Listen to me. Why would someone toss a firebomb at Shelby’s car, huh? No rational reason other than as a dire warning to stay away. A warning we’d be idiots to ignore. The last place she and Cody should go is back to Green Bay.”

  “Maybe the firebomb was meant to destroy the tracking device? Or what if it was an effort to keep Shelby and Cody away? Because whoever threw it knew you’d react like this?” Rafe pointed out with infuriating logic. “And if that’s the case, you’d be playing right into their hand by refusing to let them attend the funeral.”

  “I don’t care.” His gut clenched with the thought of anything happening to Shelby or Cody. “They’re not going.”

  “Yes, we are.” Shelby seemed to snap out of her trance to join the conversation. “Cody needs closure. Somehow, someway we need to find a way to take him.”

  He wanted to yank his hair out of his head in frustration. But he already knew from experience that yelling and arguing wasn’t going to work. “Think about it, Shelby,” he pleaded. “Please, think this through.”

  “I am trying to think it through,” she said, looking suddenly exhausted. “I know we have to keep him safe, yet I also don’t want Cody to have emotional issues for the rest of his life. Maybe it would be best to take Cody to see a child psychologist before making a final decision. I don’t want him to be in danger. If the psychologist doesn’t feel it’s important for Cody to be there, to say goodbye to his mother, then I won’t take him.”

  Rafe’s phone rang again. “Logan? What’s the status?” Rafe listened for a moment, and then his face relaxed. “No injuries,” he repeated aloud for their benefit. “Thanks for letting us know.”

  Alex chest expanded with a wave of overwhelming relief.

  Shelby closed her eyes and dropped her chin to her chest. “Thank You, Lord,” she whispered.

  Alex silently echoed the heartfelt prayer. If Rafe was right, someone had gone to great lengths to scare Shelby away.

  Because of Cody?

  Alex knew he couldn’t hold off any longer.

  “Shelby, it’s time.” At her blank look, he clarified. “I need to talk to Cody. We need to know what he saw.”

  Shelby wanted to protest, but she couldn’t deny the truth. Her children at the day care center had been put at risk. Because of her. Because of the bad man Cody had seen.

  As much as she didn’t want Cody to relive those awful memories, she didn’t seem to have much of an alternative.

  “He’ll be upset,” she said in a low voice. “Remember how he reacted to seeing blood?”

  “I know,” Alex agreed softly. “I don’t want to hurt him any more than you do. Let’s think about it for a bit. There must be some way we can uncover his memories without causing too much harm.”

  “Art therapy is often used for troubled kids,” Shelby said slowly. “I’m not an expert, but we learned a little about it in college.”

  “Worth a try.” Alex turned to Rafe. “Can you find some art supplies?”

  “Sure.”

  “Could we take Cody outside for a while?” Shelby asked. “He lost interest in the cartoons fairly quickly and I think the fresh air would do him good.”

  “I’ll make another sweep of the area before I go to the store,” Rafe offered.

  “I’ll go with you,” Alex said. When he stood she caught a glimpse of a handgun tucked into the back waistband of his jeans, mostly hidden behind his denim shirt. “Give us a few minutes before you get Cody’s coat and boots on, all right?”

  She nodded, disturbed at the very real evidence of the danger. Was she being stubborn, insisting on going to Trina’s funeral? Maybe. Yet she couldn’t tolerate knowing that this was Cody’s last chance to say goodbye to his mother. She wanted to do what was right for him.

  Cody was thrilled with the chance to go outside to play in the snow. She waited for Alex to return before getting Cody dressed in his winter gear.

  “Would you like to build a snowman?” she asked, pasting a bright smile on her face.

  “Yeah!” Full of energy he dashed outside. She quickened her pace to keep up.

  “Do you want to help?” she asked Alex, as he followed more slowly, alertly scanning the area.

  “No, I’d rather watch.”

  She understood he meant keeping an eye out for anyone suspicious and turned her attention to Cody. The back part of the hotel had a large area of the parking lot no one had bothered to snowplow. Putting aside her worries, she threw herself into making this fun for Cody, showing him how to start the base of the snowman. The snow was wet and heavy, perfect for packing. Cody helped with more enthusiasm than skill.

  When she and Cody struggled to get the second snowball placed on top of the first, Alex jumped in to help. She noticed Cody brightened the moment Alex began paying attention to him. He constantly looked to his father for approval.

  Their snowman was a bit lopsided, but she didn’t care. And neither did Cody.

  “Our snowman needs a hat,” Cody declared.

  “Here, Cody, use mine.” She was surprised when Alex stepped in to offer his own. And when Cody couldn’t reach, Alex lifted him up so that Cody could place the hat on the snowman’s head.

  Watching father and son interact caused a lump to form in the back of her throat.

  When she glanced back at Alex, she caught a hint of longing in his eyes. As if he’d regretted not joining them in building the snowman from the beginning. For a moment she saw a glimpse of what their life could be like, if both of them raised Cody together.

  A true family.

  The idea caught her off guard. Yet the more she thought about it, the more she realized it really wasn’t so surprising. She’d grown closer to Alex during these past few days than she’d ever been to any other man. And wouldn’t it be wonderful for Cody to have two parents who loved him?

  She told herself to get a grip. Alex didn’t embrace her Christian lifestyle. She’d gotten the impression he might be open to the idea—he’d agreed to have Cody raised with Christian beliefs—but she couldn’t share her life with someone who didn’t share her faith.

  She started toward him, but then Rafe returned with the art supplies, and the moment was gone.

  “Good job.” She applauded Cody when he found matching rocks for the snowman’s eyes and a pinecone for the nose. She held him up so he could complete the snowman’s face himself.

  “Who’s ready for lunch?” Rafe asked, as he hauled several sacks of food and art supplies from the SUV.

  “I am!” Cody shouted, squirming out of her grip and running toward Rafe.

  “We’ll talk to him after lunch,” Alex said softly.

  She nodded, knowing she’d run out of time and excuses.

  Watching the way Shelby played with Cody as they built a big, if lopsided, snowman, Alex realized she was a natural when it came to taking care of children.

  Owning and operating a day care center was probably part of the reason, but everything Shelby did with Cody revealed the depth of her love for the boy.

  She was Cody’s surrogate mother, in every way. He admired everything about Shelby.
The way she bravely faced her past. The way she helped Cody. The way she cared about the people in her life.

  He found himself hoping she included him in her sphere of caring. Because his feelings for her were growing into something more intense than mere friendship.

  Even though this wasn’t the time or the place for anything more.

  As they ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and apples for lunch, he couldn’t get the image of her carefree laughing face out of his mind. For those brief moments outside, she’d seemed happy.

  But not any more. The tiny brackets around her mouth told him that she was dreading the moment he began questioning Cody.

  He wasn’t feeling too great about it himself.

  Typical Shelby, though, she didn’t whine or complain, but got right to work as soon as she’d finished clearing away the lunch mess.

  “Cody, look at what Mr. Rafe brought for you.” She spread out the large sheets of paper on the small hotel table and opened up the container of crayons. She spilled them all over the table, so it would be easy to pick out whichever colors he preferred. “Would you like to draw pictures?”

  “Yeah!” Cody knelt on one of the chairs, so he could reach the table. “Are you going to draw with me?”

  “Of course.” Shelby sat across from Cody, her expression thoughtful. “What should we draw?”

  Alex stayed back with Rafe, allowing Shelby to take the lead. Obviously he didn’t have the same experience she had with kids.

  “How about a snowman?” Cody asked.

  “No, we already made a snowman outside.” Shelby pretended to think. “Maybe we should draw the marina?”

  Even Alex could tell Cody had tensed up. “I dunno,” he hedged.

  Shelby leaned forward, brushing a hand over Cody’s blond hair. “Cody, do you remember the night you saw the bad man?”

  His green eyes widened until they seemed to take up his entire face. “Yes.”

  “Would you be able to draw a picture of the bad man for us?” she asked, gently. “Please? It’s very important.”

  He stared down at the blank piece of paper in front of him, and Alex knew if Cody refused he wasn’t going to force the issue. They’d simply have to figure out what happened some other way.

  “Okay,” he said, picking up the black crayon.

  Alex held his breath as Cody began to draw. Shelby worked on her own picture, choosing to draw sailboats on the water, but kept her attention on what Cody was doing.

  “What is that, a car?” she asked when Cody put down the black crayon.

  He nodded. “I saw the bad man through my window.”

  Alex glanced at Shelby in surprise, but she was holding Cody’s gaze. “You were in the backseat, here?” she asked, pointing to the picture.

  “Yep. The bad man was yelling at my mom.” For a moment his lower lip trembled and Alex had to stop himself from rushing over to stop Shelby’s art therapy session.

  “You’re safe here with us now,” Shelby said softly. “Your other dad and Mr. Rafe are here to keep you safe.”

  Cody glanced at Alex and Rafe, as if to reassure himself they were indeed there to keep him safe from harm.

  “What did the bad man look like?” Shelby asked, pulling Cody’s attention back to the picture. “Was he taller than your mom or shorter?”

  “Tall. Really, really tall.” Cody picked up the brown crayon and began drawing a man. He made a rectangular body, with stubby arms and legs sticking out of it. The figure was tall, much taller than the car.

  “That’s a great picture,” Shelby said, admiring his work. “What color hair did the bad man have? Yellow like yours? Or dark like your dad’s?”

  Cody scrunched up his face. “I dunno. Mostly bald.” He left the figure hairless and finished putting in the man’s face, eyes, nose and mouth, and the mouth was frowning.

  Then he picked up the red crayon and drew a wide red streak down the side of the man’s head.

  Alex sucked in a quick breath.

  “Why is he bleeding?” Shelby asked in a calm tone.

  “Mom hit him with a long skinny thing,” Cody’s voice was so quiet she could barely hear him. “He fell down and then she jumped in the car and drove away.”

  Alex closed his eyes, his stomach churning with guilt and regret. Cody should not have been forced to witness such violence. No wonder the poor kid had nightmares.

  And it was all his fault. When Trina had offered to give inside information, he should have told her no. Should have encouraged her to stay far away from the shipyard.

  Finding the mastermind behind the drug running operation shouldn’t have cost Trina her life.

  Shelby tried to keep calm, even though her stomach churned with nausea as she stared down at Cody’s drawing.

  “You’re safe here with us,” she reminded him, when he’d stopped working on his picture. “What else is in the picture? What was next to your car?”

  Cody scrunched up his face for a moment, then picked up a navy blue crayon. “Big ships,” he said, drawing a large rectangle to one side of the picture.

  “Like in the shipyard?” Shelby asked, as she worked on her own drawing. She found herself drawing the marina, the morning the gunman had found Trina. Was the man with the gun the same person Cody had drawn with the blood streak on his face? It seemed likely, but she wasn’t sure.

  He nodded but didn’t say anything, simply drawing more ships.

  When Cody finished his picture, he shoved it away. Since he seemed to lose interest in the paper and crayons, she decided not to push. He’d opened himself up enough, she didn’t want to add to his distress.

  “There’s a Disney movie on the television,” Alex offered in a low voice. “Maybe he’d like to watch?”

  “Sure.” She knew they wanted to have Cody preoccupied while they discussed the details they’d uncovered. She took Cody into the connecting room and found the movie. He’d burned off enough energy building a snowman outside, that she thought he might fall asleep while watching.

  “Mostly bald,” Alex repeated as she walked back to talk with the two men. “That should help us narrow our list of suspects.”

  She sat down with a sigh. “Maybe, but to Cody’s mind, mostly bald could be short hair, like a military cut, too.”

  Alex grimaced. “And really, really tall doesn’t mean much either, other than that the guy was taller than Trina.”

  “Let’s re-create that night,” Rafe suggested, looking at both Shelby’s and Cody’s pictures. “Cody drew large ships, as if he was in a car parked at the shipyard.”

  Alex leaned forward eagerly. “Cody is in the backseat of a car, while Trina goes to meet someone. Something happens and she’s forced to defend herself, maybe with a baseball bat or a tire iron, hitting the bad guy. He goes down and she jumps into the car to escape. But she doesn’t go back to her place because she thinks she’ll be followed.”

  Shelby joined in the theorizing. “And she doesn’t come to my place for the same reason. She calls me and insists I meet her at the marina because Cody’s in danger. I drive down there and she’s standing in the shadows of our father’s yacht, the Juliet.”

  “How does the gunman know she’s there?” Alex asked, when Shelby paused. “Does he have a tracking device on her? Or does he know her well enough to know she wouldn’t go home or to Shelby’s place?”

  “Trina said something interesting when I met her down at the marina,” Shelby said slowly. “She told me she’d made a terrible mistake. And that I needed to call you, Alex. No one else, not the police, not anyone but you.” She stared for a moment at Cody’s drawing. “So what was her mistake? Trusting the wrong person? Stephan?”

  Alex exchanged a concerned look with Rafe. “Stephan isn’t mostly bald,” Alex pointed out. “And I would think if Cody had seen his stepfather, he would have said something to that effect, rather than calling him the bad man.”

  “Okay, that makes sense.” Shelby nodded with relief. “But then who did Trin
a trust that turned out to be a terrible mistake?”

  “Your father?” Alex said. “He’s tall and mostly bald.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Same argument as with Stephan. Cody knows his grandfather. He wouldn’t have referred to him as the bad man, either.”

  “Maybe you’re both wrong on that,” Rafe spoke up. “Maybe the guy Trina was fighting with was wearing some sort of face mask obscuring his features?”

  “No, I’m sure Cody would have said something about a mask.” Shelby looked down at the drawing again, trying to imagine what Cody might have seen. “If they were arguing at an angle, or if the man’s back was to Cody, it’s possible he didn’t get a good look at the man’s face at all.”

  “He drew a frown,” Rafe said tapping the guy’s face on Cody’s picture.

  “The frown could be something he added because he heard them yelling.” Shelby grimaced. “That might be simply the way he portrayed the man’s anger onto the drawing.”

  Alex let out a heavy sigh. “So you’re telling us Cody’s description is basically useless? That we can’t really narrow down any of the suspects unless they happen to be the same height or shorter than your sister or have a head full of hair?”

  As much as she hated to admit it, she couldn’t lie. “I think if it was dark, and Cody didn’t get a good look at his face, then no, we can’t narrow down any of the suspects. Stephan has always worn his hair long, and he’s only a couple of inches taller than Trina, so we can probably take him off the list.”

  “But not Bobby Drake. Bobby was six feet tall and wore his hair in a crew cut,” Rafe said.

  Alex captured her gaze with his. “And not your father.”

  TEN

  The minute the words left his mouth, Alex wanted to call them back. Especially when Shelby paled, bit her lip and looked away, a hint of angry desperation in her eyes.

  What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he keep his big mouth shut? There was no reason to blurt out his true feelings like that.