That curveball puzzled Keith. His mother was a drunk, not a criminal. She’d never even gotten a DUI. She didn’t drive at all; she used public transportation. “My mother? Why the hell was she breaking into Kat’s house?”
“She claims she wasn’t breaking in. She was just trying to see if Trina was home. Apparently she had some news to impart. She’s not saying anything more unless it’s to Trina. Interesting way to ask for a lawyer.” Malcolm stood. “She’s in the county lockup. I came over to see if Trina wanted to go down there and talk to her.”
Kat looked to him for guidance. He could tell she wanted to find out what his mother wanted. She was thinking of his sister’s kids, worry etched in the tiny lines around her pale mouth. He wondered when it would hit her that her stalker was still out there. From Dustin’s description of the damage done to her condo, the stalker had definitely been there. He’d used her lipstick and eyeliner to scrawl “bitch” on every wall in her condo.
“We can go, but we’re not staying long. You already look wiped out, Kitty Kat.” He ran a light caress down her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his palm.
“Give me a minute.” She disappeared into the bathroom.
Malcolm regarded him with a strange expression on his face. “It’s weird to hear you talk like that.”
Keith had never before called a woman by a nickname. He pointed a warning finger at Malcolm. “Don’t start.”
“Good weird. Refreshing. I’d about given up on you.” Mal chucked him on the shoulder. “Still, if you break her heart, they’ll never find your body.”
__________
This was the strangest day in Katrina’s life. Good and bad things had happened, and she didn’t quite know how to feel about it overall. She entered the tiny interrogation room knowing that a team of special agents—including her brother and Keith—were watching. Keith had wanted to come with her, but Katrina had the feeling his mother wouldn’t talk as freely if he was in the room.
Starr sat on the other side of the metal table, handcuffed to a rectangular bar that was welded to the tabletop. Her lip was curled in disgust, but other than that, she looked no different than she had five days ago when she’d stopped Katrina on the street.
“Hi, Starr. How are you?”
“In jail. I ain’t never been in jail before. They think I was trying to break into your house.”
Dustin had shown Katrina the evidence. Her door had been kicked in, and somebody had searched through her house. The mess was going to take some time to clean up, and the epithets on the walls made her stomach churn. Worse, the trajectory of the cameras outside her condo had been moved. It appeared that whoever had done this knew where the cameras were placed and how to approach them unseen in order to disable them.
For those reasons Katrina believed Starr. The woman didn’t seem like much of a planner. “What were you doing in my house?
The recovered footage showed Starr skulking around the parking lot, glancing about furtively, and then she disappeared as she got closer to Katrina’s place.
“Your door was open, but it was too quiet. It didn’t look right.” Her scratchy voice was laced with bafflement.
“So you went inside?” Dustin had been unable to get a clear accounting from Starr. Katrina was used to asking direct questions, but she was also used to knowing the answers beforehand.
“Yeah, but the place looked fine. A little messy, but nothin’ too bad. My place looks worse on a good day.” She laughed, but it turned into a nicotine cough. “Then the police come and arrest me like I was the one who did it.”
It did explain Keith’s fastidiousness. He was still rebelling against his childhood. Katrina managed a small smile. The reprieve from the flu had vanished. Her head pounded, her muscles ached, and she felt like she was going to fall over. “My place was broken into. The FBI is watching my house, and they’re watching me.”
“Oh.” The light in Starr’s eyes dimmed. “I didn’t know. I was gonna ask you about those kids, and did you tell Keith yet.”
Katrina’s heart went out to Starr. “Yes. I talked to Keith.”
“And you went and seen Savannah. She told me.”
“Yes. I spoke with Savannah as well.”
Starr grinned, and something in her smile reminded Katrina of the way Keith looked when he was about to get his way. “You want them kids, don’tcha?”
Katrina hadn’t seriously considered that. Keith hadn’t even agreed to meet them, to think about being part of their lives as an uncle. She couldn’t honestly imagine taking on two kids. That was a feat for someone with a more generous heart than hers. People might think she was kind and had all those nice, ladylike attributes, but Katrina had limits. She wanted things in life, and she couldn’t see how kids fit into the picture.
“I want them to be placed with a good family. I promised Savannah that I would look after them.” She tried to couch it gently. She felt sorry for the kids, but their best bet would be to land with a family who wanted to build a life with them.
“I knew you was good people. Savannah’ll give ’em to you, but she needs you to help her out.”
Katrina felt like she’d lost track of the conversation. It seemed to have transformed into a negotiation. “She needs me to do what?”
Starr shrugged. “You know. Put in a good word with the parole board, maybe get Keith to say some nice things about her. And she’s gonna need some help when she gets out, some money, and maybe when you move in with Keith, you can give her your place.”
Katrina’s mouth fell open. Starr had just proposed committing three separate federal offenses. “Starr, thank you, but I’m not interested in taking on the kids. I promised Savannah that I would make sure they were in a good home. I never specified my home. I met with their caseworker, and she assured me that they would be placed.”
She didn’t mention the complications or that she had planned to meet the children. Those issues had nothing to do with Starr.
Starr, for her part, gaped right back at Katrina. “Well, I was wrong about you. I thought you was one of those women who slobbers over babies everywhere you go.”
Katrina shook her head. The older her nephews became, the more she liked them. She rose to her feet. “I won’t press charges, but please call before you visit next time.”
When she left the room, she found Keith waiting in the hallway. “Dustin will process the paperwork. I’m taking you home. We’re stopping for food. You’re going to eat, and then you’re going straight to bed.”
She didn’t have the energy to argue with that.
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning, her flu hit full force. She groaned the moment returning consciousness made her aware of the extent to which her body ached. She called the office to let them know she wouldn’t be in, and then she called in some favors to cover the appointments she couldn’t move.
When Keith emerged from the shower and found her still lying down, he approached with a frown marring his brow. “Kat? Are you okay?”
“I’m not going to work. I got someone to cover my cases, and I’m taking the day off.” She pushed a stray strand of hair away from her face. It had been tickling her nose, and her strategy of trying to ignore it wasn’t working.
He sat down next to her and pressed his palm to her forehead, a sure sign he had no experience feeling for a fever. “You’re pale and warm. I’ll take you to the doctor. Let me make a phone call.”
She caught him as he went to get up, tugging on his arm to make him sit back down. “I’m warm because I’m still under the covers. I’m pale because I’m feeling achy and nauseated. I probably have the flu, and there’s nothing a doctor can do about it. Mostly I’m staying home because yesterday was a phenomenally crappy day and I just want to sleep.”
“It wasn’t that bad. We came clean with Malcolm. He took it better than I thought he would. Banning violence was a brilliant call on your part. And my mother tried to sell my sister’s kids to us. It wasn’t the best
engagement present, but I imagine she could come up with worse.” He grinned in an attempt to cheer her up, but his heart wasn’t in it.
She tried to laugh at his joke, but all she managed was a small smile. “We’re not engaged.”
Keith shrugged. “We told Malcolm we were dating. Same thing.”
Katrina sobered. From somewhere she found the strength to sit up. “You’re okay with that?”
“The moment you told me I couldn’t ejaculate on your face, I began to realize my number was up.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve had time to mull it over and accept it. I’m more than okay with spending the rest of my life with you.”
“This doesn’t count as a proposal. I don’t think we’re quite to that point yet. I’m in no rush.” She brushed a kiss over his smooth cheek to soften that blow. “Now, you go to work, and let me spend all day in my pajamas. I promise to sleep a lot and drink at least one protein shake today.”
Lying back down, she gave him a tired smile. He was wearing that enigmatic, stoic expression that made her feel like he was dissecting her. At last, he shook his head regretfully. “Honey, I can’t leave you here alone.”
Tears pricked her eyes, and he noticed, because he took her hand. She cursed her damn hormones and blamed the stress of not feeling well. “Don’t make me go to work. The chief suspended Aaron yesterday. He accused me of betraying him and taking his job because I was appointed second chair on the Holbrook case. Then my place was broken into, and telling Malcolm was stressful, and then your mother… I truly can’t believe she said those things in an FBI interrogation room to a federal prosecutor. It says right on the wall that the room is monitored.”
“I’ve never been convinced she could read all that well.” He heaved a sigh. “All right. You can stay home today. I can go in late, but I can’t take the entire day off. I’ll call your dad to come over and sit with you.”
With victory on her side, she went back to sleep, getting up only when he made her come downstairs for breakfast. Then she crashed on his very comfortable recliner in the family room, a cooking show providing the background noise for her dreams.
She woke up to mild cramping, but she wasn’t sure if it was from her period or her other malaise. Keith had gone, but her father occupied the other chair. He had the remote for the TV in his hand.
“Hey, Dad. Thanks for coming over.”
He started and tore his attention from the commercial for cholesterol medication. “Sweetie, you’re up. How are you feeling?”
“Okay.”
With a grimace, he turned off the TV. “You don’t look like you’re feeling okay. Keith said you had the flu, and you look like you have the flu.”
Only her father could get away with telling her she looked like crap and still make her remember what it was like to be his cherished little girl. “I’ll be okay. I just need rest. And one of those powder flu therapy mixtures that has aspirin in it. I feel like somebody beat me up. I could go for some tea.”
Her father raised a thoughtful brow. It struck her how much her brothers resembled their father. It wasn’t just in their looks and build, but in the air of authority and the way they inspired people to have confidence in them. “I’ll make you some tea, sweetheart.”
She wanted more than plain tea. She wanted to take something that would knock her out until she woke up feeling a hell of a lot better. Keith never had anything like that on hand. Whenever he got sick, he relied on her and her mother to bring over soups and medications. In some ways, Keith was a very typical male. “Will you go to the pharmacy for me? I need some other things too. I’ll make a list.”
She needed feminine hygiene products. Her father had long ago established that he was willing to purchase those items as long as it was written on a list and not said aloud.
He chuckled. “You’re just like your mother.”
It was a compliment. Her father thought the sun and moon rose and set on her mother. “Thanks. I try.”
Keith had put her phone on the side table next to the chair, probably so he could have instant access to her. She texted her list to her father’s phone. That way he couldn’t lose it.
“Honey, we need to talk about you and Keith.”
The tone in her father’s voice was the same one he’d used when he sat her down at the age of fifteen to tell her that her dog had died while she was at school. She’d been heartbroken. She had no idea what her parents knew and didn’t know about Keith, though she assumed that Malcolm had given their parents an earful the night before.
“Daddy—”
He held up a hand, and she fell silent. Mario Legato was going to have his say, and she was going to be a good daughter and listen.
“Katrina Marie, I love you more than anything. I’d give my life for you. I know that Keith has had more than his share of problems, and he’s worked really hard to overcome them. He didn’t grow up in a good home. I know he used to be a drunk. When Malcolm first brought him around, your mother and I could smell the liquor on him a mile off. We’ve tried to shelter you from that, all of us, even Keith. He’s a strong man, but he’s got some pretty thick scars. I’m talking the emotional kind.”
Mario took a breath, and Katrina tried to talk as fast as she could. “Daddy, I know all that. He has a good heart.”
The look he gave her shut her up. “I know he has a good heart. Your mother and I wouldn’t have let him into our home and welcomed him into our family if we couldn’t see the good in him. He’s the one who doesn’t think he has a good heart. He’s the one who doesn’t think he’s good enough to be loved. As much as I’ve treated him like my own son, he keeps all of us at a distance.”
She was trembling now, not from the pain, but from the impending heartbreak. In her whole life, she’d never done a single thing to upset her father, but if he insisted she end things with Keith, she knew their relationship would become estranged. Nothing could make her give up Keith.
“Dad, I love him.”
Sorrow gleamed in her father’s dark eyes. “I know, sweetie. You always have, and he’s always loved you, even if he didn’t know what to do with those feelings. I knew this day would come eventually. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. He’s not whole inside. There’s going to come a point when he can’t give you the love you deserve.”
“Stop it.” She blinked rapidly, willing herself not to cry again. It was a weak and pointless act. “You don’t know Keith as well as you think you do. I believe in him, and that’s enough for me. I’m not breaking up with him.”
Mario’s stern exterior melted. “Aww hell. Trina, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m not telling you to break up with him. As long as he makes you happy, your mother and I will be supportive. I wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting into.”
At least he hadn’t brought up Keith’s kinky side. Her parents had never shied away from frank discussions, but she really didn’t want to talk about that with her father.
“I do, Daddy. You’re going to have to trust me. I’m learning how to handle Keith, and he’s learning how to be in a real relationship.”
Mario chuckled. “Just like your mother.”
Another wave of nausea struck. She closed her eyes against it.
Her father got to his feet. “Do you need a barf bucket?”
“No.” That answer was going to be true no matter what. She had a strict policy about not tossing her cookies. Especially not in front of witnesses. “I’m okay, but I really, really need the things on that list. Keith doesn’t keep extra tampons around the house.”
That got him moving. He could talk about flu symptoms all day long, but mention tampons and he was out the door. It was a bit manipulative of her, but he left her with no other options.
Completely aware of her tactics, he scowled. “Ten minutes, Trina. I’ll be back in ten minutes. You lock the door behind me, and don’t let anyone in until I get back.”
__________
Keith studied the documents through the cle
ar plastic of the evidence bag. Inwardly he fumed. His outward demeanor betrayed nothing, but he knew Dustin would read him correctly anyway.
The first was a love letter, found under the wiper blade of Katrina’s parked car. Dustin had come by one evening the week before and found it on her windshield. The cameras he and Malcolm had set up covered her parking space. That particular day, her neighbors had extra guests who had parked in Katrina’s spot, forcing her to park outside the range of the cameras. Keith had been with her, so he hadn’t seen the need to have the car moved.
The tone of the second letter was vastly different. In it, the stalker sounded angry. Dustin had found it on her bed two days prior, when someone had broken into her condo and trashed it. The stalker had found out about her relationship with Keith, and he wasn’t happy about it.
The third, delivered to her desk with the interdepartmental mail, simply read Die, whore. “Before you go off the deep end, I had a very good reason for keeping this information confidential.”
Keith was hard-pressed to think that anything could justify this omission. “He’s been leaving letters for her, and you thought it was a good idea to keep it from me?”
Dustin leaned casually against the side of his desk. The small office had a huge window, and right now Keith was considering that Dustin might well die by defenestration before the hour was over. Dustin pursed his lips. “You would have overreacted.”
“Overreacted? Overreacted?” Keith wanted to seize Dustin and shake him, but they were evenly matched, and that was no way to treat a fellow agent.
Dustin’s eyes glittered like frosted diamonds. “We had nothing. No definitive prints. No DNA. The paper and envelope are generic, as is the pen he used. And there was nothing on video anywhere. With the activity almost at a standstill, I figured there was a leak, that somehow her stalker had found out the precautions we’ve taken. Keeping key evidence from you meant keeping it from him.”
That was a tough pill to swallow, but it made sense, so Keith forced himself to assimilate the new information. “What do you have now?”
Re/Paired (Doms of the FBI Book 2) Page 31