by Liz Johnson
“And you,” he said.
“Yes, and me.” Her voice petered out, and her gaze locked on something on the far wall. Something that hadn’t been there a year ago.
It looked like a framed drawing, the reds and yellows of a crayon mostly inside the black lines of a muscle car. It must have been colored by Cody, who apparently loved cars. The ones he could stay awake to see anyway.
“So this Jackson Cole guy… He worked with you?”
“No.” Her expression tightened. “He wanted Walt Jessup to defend him. He was—is—a well-connected, well-known drug dealer. And the city finally got the evidence they needed for a trial. Cole thought that Walt was the only one who could get him off the charges.”
“But Walt refused?” It wasn’t really a question. He’d put the pieces together easily enough.
“When Walt turned him down, Cole went nuts. He tore the waiting room apart, turning over chairs and breaking lamps.” She pulled her hands into fists. Zach couldn’t do anything but cup his hand over her arm as a silent reminder that she didn’t have to carry the burden alone. “And just before he left, he pointed at Walt, then at me, and said he’d get even.”
The fear in her voice twisted at his gut. He needed to fix this for her. Now. “When did that happen?”
“About four weeks ago.” She looked into his eyes, hers steady. She was holding it together pretty well, all things considered.
But he didn’t want her to hold it together. He wanted her happy and safe. And Cody healed.
“Is this the first time something like this has happened?”
She frowned. “The first actual attack. But I’ve seen them around. Not those vans exactly, but cars that I don’t know parked on the street, watching us. And one night I came home and there was someone peeking into the windows. He took off before I could get a good look at him.”
“Did you call the police?”
“Yes. Walt had called them after the waiting room incident. And I called the same detective. Sunny something…” Her voice trailed off, and he easily filled in the blanks.
“She took your statement, but you haven’t heard back from her.”
“Yes.”
Zach let the story tumble over in his mind. Something didn’t sit quite right with what she’d told him. Not that he didn’t believe she was telling the truth. It just wasn’t adding up to what he’d seen on the bridge—an organized attack.
Jackson Cole sounded like the type of guy who’d fly off the handle at any perceived slight. Not the type to plot and plan. It took patience and strategy to get three vans to run a specific car off the road. Men with those qualities didn’t usually throw temper tantrums when they didn’t get their way.
Besides, she still hadn’t answered one key question. “Why you? There are at least a dozen people in the office. Why’d he pick you?”
“I’m not entirely sure. Maybe because I was the one who told him Walt wouldn’t take a meeting with him. Or maybe because I was handy and he recognized my face.”
Zach nodded but kept silent for a long moment. There had to be more to this situation. Had she been privy to some information that Cole needed to keep a secret? Had she seen something in a file she wasn’t supposed to?
Maybe she didn’t even know what she wasn’t supposed to know.
But they’d figure it out. Together.
He slid his touch down the slender bones of her arm. At her hand, he pulled it into his, lacing their fingers and squeezing softly. Her hand fit so well into his grasp, petite and soft, just like the rest of her.
The urge to pull her into his arms nearly knocked him off his stool, but he wasn’t free to do that. They had signed a paper in the judge’s office that said they were man and wife. But that’s all she’d agreed to. And he wouldn’t push her for more. Not now.
Not ever.
Even if it nearly killed him.
He scrubbed his free hand down his face and looked away from her warm brown eyes.
He was all kinds of an idiot.
But he’d marry her again in a heartbeat if that’s what it took to help Aaron’s son. And he’d do anything to keep them both safe.
“First we have to call the police. Then I guess I’d better talk with Walt and see if he has any more information about Jackson Cole.” Her eyes widened and Zach could see she wasn’t pleased with the idea, but he had no intention of backing down. He was going to do whatever it took to protect her, whether she liked it or not.
*
This had been a terrible idea, but Kristi hadn’t been able to talk Zach out of it. After a quick and unhelpful call to Detective Sunny Diaz, who’d said she couldn’t help without license plates or models on the vans—neither of which they had—Zach had insisted they talk with Walt.
“It’s okay,” he said, his voice low as he stepped out of the car. He could probably feel the strain coming off her in waves.
He walked around the hood of the car, opened her door and held out his big, callused hand. The tips of his fingers were blunt, the skin toughened by hard work. Yet they were cupped in a gentle invitation.
Taking a deep breath, she put hers in his and let him pull her out.
“I don’t want to lose this job. Do you know how hard it is to find a part-time job with flexible hours and decent pay? If Cody is having a bad day, Walt lets me make up the hours another time. And if I get a call from Mrs. Drummond that Cody isn’t feeling well, I can leave at any time. I like working here, and they understand that Cody comes first. I don’t think there’s another job like this one.”
Also, she hadn’t told them that Zach was only sort of her spouse. They thought she was a military wife, and when they’d learned her husband was overseas they’d poured out to her. Bringing her food. Sharing a bonus check. Getting her car serviced. Offering her several extra days off when Zach returned.
But if they found out that they had a marriage built on necessity rather than love, would they feel like she’d taken advantage of their generosity?
Undoubtedly.
And she hadn’t exactly told Zach that her boss thought they were really married either.
This could be a disaster.
His smile turned solemn, but the light in his eyes didn’t disappear. “I won’t put it in jeopardy.” Taking a step closer and brushing an escaped curl behind her ear, he caught her gaze and held it. “You just have to remember that we’re married. Everyone loves meeting a military man back from overseas finally getting to spend time with his wife.”
“But where do I tell them you were?” She didn’t even know the answer to that.
“I’ll take care of it.” Squeezing her hand, which he still held, he winked at her. “Promise.”
Her stomach took a nosedive. They’d shared precisely twelve letters and four days together since they said their vows. But all the same, she trusted him. “All right.” With a deep breath and a sigh, she followed him into the five-story office building. The only sound in the elevator was the light jazz that made his eyebrows go up, as though asking if it could be any more cliché. “We don’t own the building. We just rent the top floor.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.” There was a subtle twinkle in his eye that said he was teasing her. And it was an unfamiliar sensation. She hadn’t had inside jokes with anyone since Aaron, and it was a strange reminder of the little things she missed.
When the elevator doors dinged, she led the way and sent up a quick prayer that this wouldn’t be awkward.
Lord, let us find some answers and let me keep my job.
As soon as they reached the lobby, the office seemed to erupt. At the front desk, Ginger popped up, her eyes bright and hands outstretched. “Are you Zach?” Her voice carried and heads popped out of open doors up and down the hallway.
With a glance toward the boardroom, Kristi let out a breath of relief that there was no meeting on the other side of the glass wall for them to interrupt. Turning back to Ginger, she opened her mouth to introduce him, but she was too late.
&
nbsp; He gave a little bow and shook her hand. “Chief Petty Officer Zach McCloud. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
Ginger was barely thirty-five, only a few years older than Zach himself. She cooed at his formality. “Oh, Zach. Call me Ginger—everyone does. We’ve just been so eager to meet you. Where were you stationed?”
Of course. Of course, Ginger would start with the question that even Kristi couldn’t answer.
But Zach’s grin amped up, and he offered a wink, as though sharing a secret. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. But I’m happy to be home.” He snagged an arm around Kristi’s waist. “With my family.”
Ginger chuckled but didn’t have time to respond as Teri and Trina, two blonde paralegals, descended on them. “Welcome home!” They spoke and moved as one, even though Teri was about eight inches taller than her counterpart.
Zach greeted them, too, all things friendly and jovial, but his arm never moved from around her middle. It was equal parts possessive and protective, and she let herself lean into his solid shoulder, trying not to analyze which part they were playing. Whatever he was doing was working. Everyone was at ease. Except for Kristi.
Then Walt arrived, his salt-and-pepper hair combed just right and a cautious smile in place. “Walt Jessup,” he said, quickly shaking Zach’s hand. “Thank you for your service.”
“It’s an honor, sir. Thank you for what you’ve done for Kristi.”
“Oh, she’s the one helping us. It’s hard to find such a smart, motivated employee for a part-time position.”
Her cheeks warmed at the praise. Clapping her hands over her face, she turned away. This wasn’t going so badly—overly flattering compliments aside. Everyone was friendly and happy to meet him, and true to his word, he hadn’t said anything worrisome.
Until he pulled Walt to the side. “I like the furniture in here. It looks new.”
Her insides twisted into a knot. That was a blatant lead-in to the real questions he wanted to ask.
Walt laughed it off. “Oh, we had a little trouble in here a few weeks back. I’m sure Kristi told you. A would-be client trashed the whole room. But it was a good excuse to redecorate.”
He nodded. “She did tell me. Have you had any more trouble with him?”
“I think he’s long gone.” Walt’s poker face was too good for Kristi to be sure if he really had nothing more to share about Cole.
Before Zach could ask any follow-up questions, Trina shrieked, “You have to come to the Christmas party.”
Zach rubbed the top of his head. “Christmas party?”
Walt slapped him on the back. “Of course. We have one for friends and family every year in the big conference room in the back. Food, dancing, plenty of holiday celebration. You’ll come.”
It wasn’t a question, but Kristi still scrambled to find a reason to decline. “I’m not sure—”
“Sounds wonderful.” Zach shot her a full grin and a knowing look that said he had a plan. Problem was, she had no clue what it was. “We’ll be there.”
THREE
Kristi rolled out of bed the next morning more exhausted than she’d been the night before. And no closer to coming up with a plausible reason why Zach shouldn’t—couldn’t—go to her office Christmas party. Nerves over the party mixed with fears over Jackson Cole, culminating in half-waking dreams where he appeared at the event. He’d screamed and pointed right at her in a way that was far too familiar for comfort, sending shivers racing down her spine.
She’d much rather stay under her warm blanket and pretend none of this was happening.
But the pitter-patter of little feet down the stairs reminded her that she had to get out of bed. Cody had a doctor’s appointment that afternoon that he couldn’t miss. No matter how much she wanted to hunker down inside and ride out whatever storm was coming for her.
The loud footfalls that followed the soft ones reminded her she didn’t have to face it alone.
Somehow that was enough to get her out of bed and stumbling toward the kitchen. Pulling on her ratty robe, she nearly tripped over an uneven arm of the belt before catching herself on the wall with a loud thud.
“Everything okay up there?” Zach’s voice was gravelly. Cody’s sweet laughter quickly followed.
Grumbling, she straightened the belt and stomped down the stairs. When she reached the kitchen and the boys caught sight of her, Zach stopped his spoon halfway to his mouth, suspending an enormous bite of cereal and milk over his bowl. His eyebrows were at full mast, his mouth hanging open uselessly as he leaned against the counter beside Cody’s stool.
“What?”
Cody giggled.
She swung her gaze on him, frown in place and eyes narrowed. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s—”
Zach dropped his soup spoon back into his bowl with a splash. “Nothing. Nothing is funny.”
She caught her reflection in the stainless steel toaster on the counter. Her hair was a wild mass on top of her head, her curls stretching in every direction and dancing with every movement. She clamped her hands over her hair and tried to tame it.
It didn’t help.
Neither did Zach’s smirk as he picked his spoon back up and took a bite of his sugary breakfast.
She shot a glance in Cody’s direction. He had a piece of whole wheat toast slathered in jelly sitting on a plate and a bowl in front of him. “Did you give him cereal? He can’t have that much processed sugar.”
“Relax, Momma.”
She frowned at Cody’s too-cool tone. Where’d he pick that up?
Cody tipped the bowl toward her. “Zach peeled me an orange.”
“Oh.” As comebacks went, it wasn’t her best. But she didn’t have anything else to say. Except maybe that she’d overreacted. Maybe she was a little too on edge lately. Maybe sharing her house with a man again wasn’t helping.
“I get it,” Zach assured her. “He has to eat lots of fruits and veggies and lean proteins. And not a lot of all the other stuff.”
She nodded slowly but couldn’t help eyeing the brightly colored loops in his bowl.
He didn’t seem to need a translator for her expression. “I know I have to eat the good stuff, too—and I usually do. But after a year without it, sometimes a man just needs his cereal.”
“Yeah, Mom. Sometimes a man needs cereal.”
That made her laugh out loud, and even Zach’s eyes crinkled at the corners. Holding out his hand, he gave Cody a high five, which made Cody beam. It was clear her son had missed having a man around the house. It squeezed at her chest in a strange way, an odd reminder of grief and pride. She’d managed to keep going, to keep her family moving forward.
“So, I was thinking,” Zach continued. “Christmas is only about three weeks away. And the living room is kind of bare. Maybe we should go pick out a tree this afternoon.”
“We never get a live Christmas tree.” Cody’s tone pleaded with her.
“We used to. When you were younger. Before.”
Zach met her gaze, and again he seemed to understand without more explanation. Aaron had handled the trees, until he hadn’t. That first year after his death, she’d barely managed to get a three-foot tree up on an end table. But she’d done it for Cody. The next year she’d gotten a prelit tree from a box.
It wasn’t the same.
She knew it. But it was the best she could do on her own.
But Zach had a way of reminding her that she wasn’t on her own anymore.
“Anyway, we can’t go today. You have a doctor’s appointment this afternoon.”
Cody immediately looked at Zach. “Want to go with us?”
“No, buddy.” Kristi jumped in to save Zach from having to decline. He was just back from a year away. Certainly there were people he wanted to see and things he wanted to do. They couldn’t assume his time was theirs. “I’m sure Zach has other plans today.”
He slurped the last of his milk from his bowl and smacked his lips. “There’s
nothing I’d rather do than spend the day with you.”
Cody held up his hand for another high five before shoving the rest of his toast in his mouth. “There’s a car auction on TV.” He hurried toward the living room, but his steps were sluggish, like he hadn’t gotten ten hours of sleep the night before, even though he’d been asleep every time she checked on him.
Kristi watched him through the gap between the counter and cupboards, her heart breaking a little more, the way it did every day at the reminder of how frail her son was. She was so focused on him that she didn’t realize Zach had moved to her side until he reached in front of her to pop his bowl into the dishwasher. His nearness made her jump.
“You don’t have to go with us, you know.”
His forehead wrinkled into three even lines as his lips pursed to the side. His eyes grew intense, but he kept his voice low. “We don’t know when Cole might try again. But I promise I’m going to be with you when he does.”
His words filled her with mixed emotions. He spoke like there was no doubt that Cole would try again, and the certainty raced through her veins like icicles in a Montana winter. But there was warm comfort in his promise to stay by her side.
Three hours later Zach was ready to go with them. He’d zipped up Cody’s jacket, helped the boy into the backseat and climbed behind the wheel of the car before she’d even tamed her hair.
“Are you coming, Momma?” Cody yelled from his booster seat.
She slipped into the passenger side, buckling up before attempting to wrangle her hair into a ponytail.
Cody made a clucking sound. “I like it when your hair is down.”
“Me, too.”
She jumped at Zach’s gravelly whisper.
The simple fact that he’d thought about the way she wore her hair made her fingers forget how to work. She lost her grip on the hair band, and it shot across the car, smacking into his shoulder. In a flash, he caught it and handed it back to her.
“I guess you don’t agree.”