by Joyce Lamb
“I went to see him. He was unconscious on the floor, and the house was . . . on fire.” She rubbed at her eyes, seemingly unaware of the filth on her hands. “I didn’t even think to check to see if his mom was home.”
“She wasn’t,” Sam said as he joined them. “No one else was in the house. The fire guys said you saved the kid’s life. They wouldn’t have gotten to him in time.”
Relief dropped her shoulders, or perhaps that was fatigue. Chase wondered whether she’d slept at all since the construction workers had unearthed the bat.
“How’s the kid?” Sam asked.
Chase realized he’d been so focused on Kylie’s condition that he hadn’t asked her about T.J.’s.
“Smoke inhalation,” she said, “and a mild concussion.”
“Concussion?” Chase asked, surprised.
“Doctor said he must have fallen when he tried to get out,” Kylie said.
Chase exchanged a glance with Sam, who angled his head toward the door. As much as he didn’t want to leave Kylie alone, Chase got the hint that his partner wanted to talk privately.
“We’re going to step outside for a bit,” he told her.
She nodded without looking at him, her tired and worried gaze fixed on the unconscious boy.
Out in the waiting room, Chase faced his partner, anger seeping in behind the fear. A fire that almost killed her the day after some son of a bitch planted a baseball bat in her windshield? It couldn’t be a coincidence.
“What’ve you got?” he asked Sam.
“The fire was deliberate. Firefighters thought at first it was caused by candles. The kid was using them for light. But then they found the source of the fire in one of the bedrooms. Glass bottle filled with gasoline, stuffed with a rag and set on fire. It was pitched through the window.”
“A Molotov cocktail? Jesus.” Chase rubbed at his forehead until his skin protested. “Did someone follow her there and try to kill her? Does that make any damn sense at all?”
“Her presence could have been a coincidence. The house has been on the market for nearly a year with no takers, and the sellers are desperate. Could be insurance fraud.”
“That’s just a bit too convenient, don’t you think, when someone’s been terrorizing Kylie?”
“I’m just telling you what I was told.”
“So what’s T.J.’s story? Have you gotten that far?”
“A couple of our guys talked to neighbors. T.J. and his mother were the last residents of the house. Evicted about six months ago, though T.J. showed up again a couple of months ago.”
“So he’s a squatter. Where’s the mother now?”
“No one’s seen her since T.J. turned up,” Sam said. “Neighbors said she’s split on him before, but she’s always come back within a month or two.”
“She abandoned her kid?”
Sam nodded. “Sick, isn’t it? Some people don’t deserve to be parents.”
“Hell,” Chase breathed.
“She’s an addict of some kind. Neighbors try to keep an eye on the boy, but they say he’s pretty resourceful on his own. Does yard work and other odd jobs for cash. Even gets himself to school regularly.”
And his fingerprints were on the bat used on Kylie’s Jeep. What the hell? “So why’s he smashing Kylie’s windshield?”
“There’s something else.”
Chase tensed further at the dead-serious tone of Sam’s voice. “What is it?”
“I asked the doctor if it was possible T.J. got that concussion from being knocked over the head rather than a fall.”
When Chase stared at his partner without speaking, Sam nodded gravely. “Someone knocked him unconscious before they set the place on fire. We’re looking at attempted murder here.”
“Attempted murder?”
Chase whirled to see Kylie standing a few feet away. Ah, shit. She’d heard, and now she looked like she’d keel over any second. He took a step toward her, but she backed away, hands raised to hold him off. In the next instant, her shoulders firmed and her chin inched up, the moment of shocked weakness under control. Even exhausted, she kept her head in the game.
“Who would try to kill T.J.?” she asked. “He’s just a child.”
“We don’t know anything more than you do,” Chase said, doing his best not to sound placating. “But we’ll find out.”
“We’ll know more once we’ve had a chance to talk to him,” Sam said.
She gestured toward the door to trauma one. “He’s awake. The doctor . . . he’s checking him out again. He said you can probably talk to T.J. when he’s done.”
“Excellent,” Sam said.
She grimaced as she ran steady fingers through her tangled hair. “I’m going to get cleaned up a little,” she said.
When she started to step by them, Chase rested his hand at the crook of her elbow to stop her. Her muscles tensed under the contact, but he didn’t let go, too grateful that her skin was so warm and alive. “You told me you didn’t know where he lives.”
Sam cleared his throat. “I’ll just . . .” He made a walking-away gesture with his fingers.
When they were alone, Kylie shifted so that her back was no longer to the wall. Previous . . . incidents had made her wary of letting him trap her. “I wanted to talk to him before you scared the crap out of him,” she replied.
“That’s called obstruction of justice, Ky.”
Her lips thinned, eyes flashing silver. “Are you going to arrest me now?”
Not a bad idea, actually. He wouldn’t have to worry about her safety then. Of course, she’d never forgive him for that. He let it go and moved on to the second point he wanted to make. “Running into a burning house? Not the smartest thing to do.”
“If I hadn’t, T.J. could be dead.”
He couldn’t argue with that, but all he could think was that she could be dead. “Just don’t do it again,” he said, unable to manage a demand-free tone.
She stiffened, but her taut expression remained unaltered. “Are we done here?”
“Did you know T.J.’s mother abandoned him?”
Her lips parted, and her eyebrows drew together. “God, no.”
Finally, some honest emotion. “He’s been living in that house alone for a couple of months.”
“I knew something was up, but I didn’t realize it was that serious.” She shook her head, looking more drawn than before. It seemed her ability to remain aloof weakened the more tired and stressed she got. “I should have paid more attention.”
Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck. Damn it, he hadn’t meant for her to blame herself. “Kids like him, they’re experts at pretending everything’s good when it’s all falling apart.” The boy had a lot in common with the woman standing before him, in fact.
“What will happen to him now?” she asked.
“Foster care. He’s been in and out a couple of times already.”
Her forehead creased further, and she paced away, arms wrapping her middle. “I had no idea. I mean, I met his mother once when she brought him for his first lesson, and she seemed good with him. Attentive and loving.”
“Some of the worst parents know how to act the part when they’re in front of other people.”
She rubbed her eyes again, apparently unaware that she was allowing her fatigue to show in front of him. “So foster care . . . is that how you identified his fingerprints?”
He hesitated. “You should go get cleaned up.”
“Chase, tell me.”
He met her eyes, surprised to hear his name in her raspy voice. Was that the first time she’d addressed him by name in ten years?
“Chase, come on,” she prodded, impatient.
He drew in a silent breath, chastising himself for letting such a simple thing catch him off guard. But it seemed significant. Wasn’t it? She never called him by name. Okay, man, do your job and move on.
“He’s got an arrest record, Ky.”
27
KYLIE SAT ON THE SIDE OF T.J.�
��S BED IN THE curtained-off ER cubicle where he’d been relocated. The teenager looked so young, his shoulders narrow, his brown eyes big and dark. She never thought of him as a child when they faced off across the net, probably because he could be so intimidating, pounding shots at her that she increasingly had to scramble to return. But that’s exactly what he was: a child. And right now he looked so miserable and scared that she had to fight the urge to pull him against her and hug him. She wasn’t sure how he would respond to that, so instead, she patted his forearm.
“How’s it going?” she asked.
One side of his mouth quirked up. “Everything’s aces,” he said, and began to cough.
She reached for the water a nurse had brought and held the straw for him. His eyes watered while he sucked down half of the cup’s contents. Then he sat back and swiped at his face, his cheeks glowing as though the tears embarrassed him. “How about you?”
She shrugged. “I’ve had better days.”
They both laughed a little, which led to some synchronized coughing.
When they’d settled down and breathed easier, Kylie said, “A police detective is going to be here soon to talk to you.”
“About the fire?”
“And a few other things.” Chase had given her explicit instructions not to question the boy about her windshield or the fire.
“Oh.” Fear shadowed his eyes.
“You don’t have to worry, though. He just wants to help you. I promise.”
When the fear in his expression didn’t fade, she wondered again what lay in his past that had led to his arrest. There had to be a logical explanation. She knew this boy, and he wasn’t a delinquent. “Seriously, as long as you tell the truth, you’ll be fine, okay?”
He gave her a reluctant nod, blinking back tears.
She swallowed and suppressed a wince at the rawness of her throat. Her heart had felt just as raw, guilt a clenched fist in the pit of her stomach, since Chase had told her what Sam had learned from T.J.’s neighbors. She’d let this child down, so wrapped up in her own issues that she hadn’t responded appropriately when she’d sensed something was off.
“Do you know where your mother is?” she asked gently.
His gaze shifted away, and he shook his head.
“How long has she been gone?”
He lifted one shoulder and let it drop.
Chase ducked through a gap in the curtains. His presence seemed to make the close space even closer, and Kylie resisted the instinctual desire to tense. This was about T.J., not her and Chase.
“Hi, T.J.,” he said. “I’m Detective Chase Manning, Kendall Falls Police.”
Kylie watched them shake hands, struck by how Chase’s large hand engulfed the boy’s.
“I have some questions for you, if you’re up to it,” Chase said.
T.J. cast an uncertain, panicked glance at Kylie. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, but then she remembered her windshield. Maybe he didn’t want her there while he talked to the police. She started to get up. “How about I let you two talk alone.”
“No!” T.J. grabbed her hand. “Don’t go. Please?”
She settled back down, tears stinging her eyes at his desperation, and gave him a reassuring nod. He smiled with shaky relief but held tight to her hand.
Chase took out a small notebook and flipped it open. “Let’s start with the fire, T.J. Do you have any idea why anyone would want to hurt you?”
T.J.’s grip on her hand tightened. “No.”
Chase watched the boy carefully but without looking intimidating. “Are you sure?”
T.J. nodded, though Kylie thought it wasn’t very convincing.
“It’s okay to tell the truth, T.J.,” she said.
“No one’s going to be mad,” Chase added, his voice surprisingly gentle.
T.J. looked from her to Chase and back again. “I don’t know. I don’t.”
“Okay.” Chase flipped to a new page in his notebook. “Let’s talk about Kylie’s Jeep.”
T.J. stiffened and let go of her hand, but he didn’t deny anything or pretend he didn’t know what Chase meant. The fist in her stomach clenched into apprehension.
“Your fingerprints are on the bat used to smash the windshield,” Chase said, intent on T.J.’s face. “Explain.”
T.J. glanced at Kylie before darting fearful eyes away. “I . . .”
“Just tell the truth,” she said. “We’ll work it out.”
“I, um . . .” He trailed off again.
“You’re among friends here,” Chase said. “You know that, right? No one here wants to hurt you.” Patient yet firm, authoritative yet kind.
“This guy . . . he tried to give me two hundred bucks to break it.” Once he started talking, it poured out of him. “He handed me the bat, but I gave it back to him and said no way.”
“This was at the health club?” Chase asked.
“No. He was waiting on the path I take home, off the back parking lot at the club.”
Kylie’s breath stalled as visions of another deserted path unspooled in her head. She pushed off the bed and paced away, snugging her arms around her midsection. But, God, it was more than just painful memories. A mysterious man had approached a vulnerable child because he wanted to freak her out. T.J. could have been hurt. Because of her.
“Kylie?”
She turned at the tremor in T.J.’s voice, found him watching her with wide, dark eyes. “You believe me, don’t you?”
Oh, God, the poor kid. Giving him a reassuring smile, she retook her spot on the side of the bed. “Of course, I believe you.” She captured his cold, clammy hand and clasped it between both of hers. “Don’t worry, okay? Everything will be fine.”
She glanced at Chase. He also watched her, and she could tell by the compassion in his expression that he knew exactly where her head had just gone. For once, that empathy didn’t make her want to throw something at his head, though she wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he understood but said nothing. He just shared a long, supportive look with her, his slightly curving lips spreading warmth through her stomach.
He glanced away first and cleared his throat. “Can you describe the guy?” he asked T.J. “Tall? Short? Young? Old?”
“Young, I guess, but older than me.” Now that no one had yelled at him, he regained some confidence. “Tall, like you. Skinny. He wore a baseball cap. And he had blue eyes. Creepy blue. Really light.”
Chase jotted notes. “Think you’d recognize a photo?”
T.J. tensed. “Um . . .”
Chase reached over and patted the boy’s knee. “You’re safe now. He can’t hurt you. But you need to help me find him so I can make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone else. Okay?”
T.J. nodded.
“Do you think you’d recognize him if you saw a picture?”
“I think so.”
“That’s good. Once you’re released, we’ll go down to the police station so you can look at some mug-shot books. Okay with you?”
T.J. glanced at Kylie. “Will you come?”
“Of course.”
“Great,” Chase said. “So can you tell me how you left things with this man?”
“He got mad because I wouldn’t do what he wanted. I said I was going to go to the cops, but he said he’d come after me if I didn’t keep quiet.” His fingers clamped around Kylie’s so hard she fought back a wince.
“He was in the house,” he blurted at Kylie. “After I called you from my neighbor’s, I went home and he was there. He said he couldn’t trust me to keep my mouth shut. I don’t remember anything after that. I’m sorry. I should have told you before, but . . . I’m scared. What if he comes back?”
“It’s okay, kiddo,” she said. “You’re safe now. No one’s going to hurt you again. Chase and I both will make sure of it.”
When he relaxed back against his pillow, Kylie stroked his cheek with the back of her hand and smiled. “I’m going to step outside for just a minute, okay? I’ll be right back, though. I
promise.”
He nodded.
She didn’t look at Chase as she eased through the gap in the curtains and headed out into the nearest hallway. There, alone, she braced one hand on the painted concrete wall as the rush of blood in her ears grew to a roar, and dizzy comprehension spun through her senses.
T.J. had almost died because of her. He was in a hospital bed now, suffering from a head injury and smoke inhalation, scared to death of a man with creepy blue eyes, because of her.
A shudder rolled through her, accompanied by a cold sweat, and she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cool wall, not sure what her body planned to do next. Throw up? Pass out? Sink to the floor and shake to pieces?
Hang on, McKay. You’ve got to hang on. For T.J.’s sake. Don’t be a drama queen.
Feeling a hand on her back, she jerked her head up, surprised to find that Chase stood beside her. His palm, warm and reassuring, rested in the center of her back, and as she met his eyes, deep and dark and green, that strong hand gently stroked once, twice.
Her balance returned in a rush almost as dizzying as the horror, and she pulled in a trembling breath. She wanted to move away from him, away from his touch, but it’d be so easy to lean against him, to let those strong arms enfold her and ward off all the demons.
“Okay now?” Chase asked, voice soft and low.
She nodded but didn’t look at him. “Yes. We should get back to T.J. He shouldn’t be alone.”
“Just give yourself a minute,” he said. “I think you need it.”
She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. He could be so sweet it made her ache down to her bones. She bet he was a wonderful father. He had the kindest heart she’d ever known. And she’d pitched it away like it didn’t matter.
Focus on T.J.
Raising her chin, she stepped away from Chase and nodded. “I’m fine now.”
She heard him sigh as he followed her back into T.J.’s cubicle. As she took up position next to the bed, Chase said, “We need to reach your mother, T.J. Do you have any idea how to do that?”
“I don’t know where she is.” He looked at Kylie with an intensity she’d seen in him only on the tennis court, and his chin began to tremble. “I won’t go back to foster care. I won’t.”