OBSESSION (The Bening Files (Novella) Book 4)

by Trautmiller, Rachel

  Seemed like another life. Another time.

  Amanda stood, rounded the table and stopped next to Robinson. She bent to grab his plate. “Did you know he was coming over?” she whispered.

  He shook his head, then leaned back in his chair. “Doesn’t mean anything one way or the other. He’s been a surprising mix of quiet speculation and purposeful advice since he was old enough to talk. You ever try to play hide and seek with a kid that barely had to move to find you? Probably the most aggravating childhood game ever for me.”

  Dexter listened to whatever Davis was saying in a voice that was too quiet to understand. “We’re starting to look like a three-ring circus around here, Robbie.”

  Before she could move on, he grabbed her wrist. Rubbed his thumb along the inside. “Regretting something?”

  Lots of things she didn’t care to discuss. All of them had to do with the fact that her actions came from a hot-tempered place she’d let get out of control one too many times today. “Good save with the Pilots thing.”

  Disappointment rumbled across his features. He released her. “You’d have thought of it too. Your specialty. Calming the chaos.”

  “Not much calming going on.”

  He shrugged. “Dust takes a little time to settle, A.J.”

  ###

  THEY NEEDED TO talk, without interruption and for longer than five minutes, before Amanda took all the stress she’d been holding at bay all day—all month if she were honest, which wouldn’t happen with that particular set of events—and rolled it into a fiery ball she could do some real damage with. The last thing Robinson wanted was for his wife to prove everyone right. Like vultures, the city of Charlotte was lying in wait for that moment when Amanda’s obsession with its safety pushed her over the edge they all presumed she’d eventually find.

  While not everyone thought she’d had a secondary motive in solving her cases, there was enough of an echo that might outlast her career.

  She’d never voice the weight of it. Never show an ounce of how much it killed her to walk around protecting people who didn’t trust her. Instead, she’d stand taller. Try to prove them wrong. Focus on the people she could save.

  “Never a dull moment, huh?” Robinson moved behind Amanda, on the deck facing the backyard, and placed both hands on her shoulders. He started a slow massage he hoped would relieve more than a few pesky knots.

  She let out a soft moan and leaned closer. “If you wanted boring, you should have found a woman who’s a little less crazy.” A slight breeze blew the smell of wild flowers around them.

  “Turns out I prefer it. That and blonde bimbos.” He tugged a strand of her dark hair and then pulled her tight against him. Reveled in the feel of her relaxing in his arms. “Decent save, by the way.” He tucked his chin over her shoulder. “You gonna work on that part anytime soon?”

  Those beautiful amber eyes swung toward him. “It’d sure make for an easier dinner. No one to throw around words with. Harass the company.”

  “Sounds like a dinner I’d need to contemplate which fork to stab myself with.” He turned her to face him. “That’s partly my fault.”

  She glanced toward the two people still inside the house. Dexter’s mouth moved as he talked with Davis in the living room.

  Amanda let out a soft sigh. “You’re both right. You with your suspicions and Davis with her assessments.”

  “Withholding information from your partner is a little out of the norm, A.J.”

  “It’s information I can get. I just haven’t had time, because we have new responsibilities.”

  It sounded like an excuse from a woman grasping at the dying embers of life, even if it might be partly true. She was much smarter than this, but for some reason was choosing to ignore all that experience. “Or it’s been less than twenty-four hours since both victims were discovered. In that time, she received a tape from an unknown source. And didn’t bother to pass it—or anything else—along. Almost as if she’s purposely delaying the most important part of the process.”

  “Maybe she never opened it.”

  He folded his arms across his chest, then brought one hand to his chin. Tapped it. “Let’s say I buy that. How do you explain everything else? Tell me you don’t find the lack of communication suspicious at all?”

  She clamped her lips tight.

  The silence brought a flare to life in his chest. The box Amanda had confiscated hadn’t held a tape, but another knife. Bloody and identical to the first. There wasn’t any way she would have held herself back from discovering the contents. He doubted Davis had either. “Maybe she should let us worry about Paige and how it affects our jobs. And come clean about all the secrecy.”

  “I can’t say I wouldn’t be gauging her too, if the positions were reversed. Raising a kid is a big responsibility and…” Her gaze latched onto his. Anxiety battled pride there.

  “And?”

  She threw her arms up in the air and then brought the tips of her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “What am I supposed to say? That we aren’t—I’m not a fit parent? That I can’t juggle both career and family?” The turmoil there went straight to his heart. She expected something better for Paige than she thought she could give. Commanded an odd sense of success she didn’t need to perfect.

  And didn’t—couldn’t—see the truth.

  It kicked up the irritation in his gut. “You’re doing everything you can. That’s all that matters. You think she’s in her room thinking about how inadequate we are?”

  “Me? Maybe. Not you. You should have heard the way I yelled at her today at the crime scene. It was an out-of-body experience. One minute I was—”

  “Scared out of your mind for her safety and that of your mother.”

  She gave a fast head shake, agony ripping across her face. “The next, I was spewing out words I’ve never said before. To anyone.”

  A chuckle exploded from his mouth. “I doubt that. You’ve sent some deserved zingers my way.”

  She shook her head. “This is different.”

  “She isn’t as fragile as you think. Do some circumstances need kid gloves? Sure. Case in point: She handled Davis just fine inside. You’re being too hard on yourself. So you yelled. Big deal. She’s lost. Feels alone. Afraid, but unwilling to admit it. A lot like you.”

  She straightened. Dropped her hands. “I’m not afraid.”

  “Tell me another one, honey.” He rubbed the still-present ache in his chest. Didn’t figure he had long before his wife outwitted him and they either laughed or forged deeper into the battlefield. “Lie detector is off the charts, A.J. You’re not afraid of monsters, heck, not even serial killers or terrorists for that matter. If there’s a life to save or vindicate, you’re all in, safety be damned.”

  She worked her jaw. “Sounds like the furthest thing from afraid. Or alone.”

  At the risk of being slapped, he stepped into her space and looked her in the eye. Tried not to let her flowery scent divert him, even as it swirled around and reminded him they were so much more than these moments. “You’re afraid to make the wrong decisions. With Paige. With me. Everyone. You are terrified to trust your gut. It’s got you paralyzed. And in the constant busyness of everyday life, you feel alone because of it.”

  Her jaw flexed as she nibbled the corner of her lip. She didn’t move away from him, just kept eye contact as if daring him to make it longer. “Sometimes I really don’t like you.”

  Genuine laughter snuck up on him. Had the knot in his stomach loosening. “Join the club. Sometimes even I think I’m a jerk.”

  “A realist.” She tugged a strand of hair from her mouth. “Have to appreciate that.”

  He sobered. “We’ve been here three weeks.”

  A groan came from her mouth. “You never give, do you? Just jump right into the fire.”

  Or in front of the roulette gun.

  “Sorry, honey. This is what you get. You knew that going in. And this,” he moved his index finger in a circle encompassing
the entire house, “is not helping. If anything, Paige’s nightmares and sleepwalking are worse.” He set her away from him. “Last night she got out of bed and tried to leave the house. Through a window.”

  Her brows merged together. “Where was I?”

  Sleeping soundly for the first time in two days. “You can’t be everywhere at once. If you’re not with Paige, you’re working. And if not those two things, you’re up late with me.”

  “I didn’t hear any complaints last night.” A smile crept across her face. The kind that usually distracted him from this very talk.

  He shook his head. Wasn’t happening. They’d delayed enough. “We have to make the right call. And sometimes that means what’s best for everybody.”

  The grin faded. “And that means, what, exactly? A trip to social services? A quick drop off with final words of wisdom?”

  Huh, okay. He expected everyone else to question where his head was in this, but not Amanda. She should know. “We are way past the point of no return. That happened day one.”

  As if she’d anticipated something far different, she took a deep breath and turned her attention on the backyard. To the forgotten swing set and the lawn he needed to mow for the second time this week.

  He ground his teeth together. “We made a commitment.” It was so much more than that for both of them. “It’s time to move forward. Soon she’ll have those babies—”

  “Who have no home to go to, thanks to the Penningtons.”

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  “When they are both twelve? Hey, baby one and two, guess what? We found you a home.” Anger took over her facial features. “So, I’m a little unsure what we should do with Paige. And I’m stumbling over what’s best. Sue me. Meanwhile, I’ve made promises left and right—the kind I can’t bear to break—and I’m supposed to be okay hearing everything will work out? Let’s send out a Hail Mary?”

  He stuck his hands in his pockets. Wished he could shove his growing frustration out of sight, too. “Never said that. I said, we would figure it out. As in together. Not you stressing out all by yourself and me wondering what I’m supposed to do to make things better.”

  “Probably not run around investigating everyone I come into contact with as if I have a hit out on my head.”

  The soft roll of the sliding door caught his attention. Dexter stepped outside and shut it behind him, then stuck his hands in his pockets. “You guys sure know how to have a good time. Full-scale interrogation during dinner. Leaving your unacquainted guests to chat while you bicker out here. Is the SWAT team going to show up for dessert? Just a normal day in the Robinson household?”

  A soft burst of laughter came from beside him as Amanda crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s all this guy’s fault.” Her eyes lit on him, irritation still present, but a slight twinkle taking precedence. “He’s been micromanaging. Never a good idea. Not even his specialty.”

  Dexter rubbed his chin. “Pretty sure I implied that earlier today.”

  Pretty sure he didn’t care. “Aren’t you supposed to be tracking down your sister, Dex?”

  “She called.” He sat at the nearby patio table and folded his hands on the tabletop. “Conveniently when I was unable to answer. Gave some excuse about being tied up at a conference. I don’t buy it, but chasing her down never did any good.” Dexter shrugged. “I’m piecing together something about an accident, your wife’s sporting a nice new bandage and so is your house guest. Does anybody around here ever stay out of harm’s way?”

  A bout of amusement escaped his lungs and mingled with Amanda’s. His eyes instantly connected with hers. Her laughter always had that effect on him, as if no matter where they stood, they’d eventually end up on the same side of the fence.

  Only this time, judging by the strain lurking in her eyes, it might take more effort.

  “I’m sensing a lot of turmoil. Why don’t you both step into my office.” He gestured to the remaining chairs around the table. “I promise not to scribble furiously on my legal pad.”

  “Now you sound like Paige.” Amanda sat. “Where is Davis, anyway?”

  “Passed out on the couch. She stirred when I touched her arm, but I’d watch the concussion.”

  If that was all that ailed the other detective.

  Dr. Blake had said the same thing when Robinson had tracked him down after dropping Amanda and Davis at the house. The doctor had seemed unwilling to say much else. Hadn’t elaborated beyond mentioning that he’d known Davis all her life, as if that absolved her of all nefarious intention. And then a five car pileup had ended their conversation.

  The roll of the sliding door stole their attention. Paige stood beyond it. Her face was pale and drawn, her hair wet from a shower. She had one arm around her stomach, her posture hunched over. A splotch of something dark covered her pajama pants. “A-Amanda…”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  LACK OF SLEEP, the stress, and a case she couldn’t wrap her mind around was catching up to Amanda with a vengeance. A pulsing headache built behind her eyes. It mingled with the buzz of unanswered questions.

  “How’s our girl?” Lilly walked into Paige’s hospital room in a pair of maroon scrubs, a stethoscope around her neck. Her dark hair was tied back with an ever-present bandanna.

  “Sleeping,” she whispered. Amanda downed the last of her coffee and glanced at the girl. A lock of long brown hair tumbled across her forehead as she lay on her side, facing Amanda and Robinson. She’d fallen into a fitful sleep sometime around three in the morning, after her doctors had managed to stop her preterm labor and ordered a steroid to help both babies’ lungs develop quicker.

  Now they had to pray her body would incubate the infants a little longer.

  I want my mom.

  Paige’s words echoed through Amanda like a bullet train without a driver and on a boomerang track. The teen had sobbed the sentence mid-contraction, while gripping Amanda’s hand with the strength of a grown man. And she’d wanted to join her, both in sentiment and tears. The only thing that had stopped her was the man currently sitting next her with his own lukewarm cup of caffeine in hand.

  He’d been the calm in the chaos, offering soothing words where Amanda had been too choked up to do much more than pat her niece’s hand for fear she’d break down and sob like an injured toddler.

  His fingers worked circles on her neck as if he understood the emotions waging war inside her heart and the aggravating pain inside her skull. As if they hadn’t had a disagreement without resolution less than twelve hours ago.

  Lilly checked the solution working its way into Paige’s veins. “You guys should go home for a bit. Get some rest. A shower.”

  “No.” She wouldn’t forgive herself if something happened while she was gone. Even for necessities. Paige needed her here.

  “I get off in thirty minutes. I’ll sit with her for as long as you need. Maybe Dexter could drop Ariana off in a little while. Besides, the doctor believes we can keep those babies in there a few more weeks if she rests. Doesn’t get overworked or stressed.”

  That if was so big it might as well have been taking up residence in the room. “I appreciate the offer, but you haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours.” Amanda gave Robinson’s leg a squeeze, then stood. Paced to the wall closest to the door and then turned back to the room’s occupants. Taking on a Robinson family ambush wasn’t in her today. “We aren’t going to ask you to do that.”

  “Okay.” Lilly turned toward her, her lips pressed together. Her blue-green eyes were the exact same shade as Robinson’s and cracked fire as if Amanda had copped attitude. “You’re not asking. I’m forcing you to go home for a while.”

  Amanda braced for the impact of Robinson’s agreement.

  “Leave it be, Lilly.” The last came out on a bit of a yawn as he stood and stretched his neck.

  Huh. Her muscles relaxed. Dark circles lined his eyes as if he’d been awake for a week straight. Exhaustion hung from his frame. He headed for the exit and
stopped by her side. Then he took her cup. “You need something besides coffee, A.J.”

  The initials ran together in that familiar way only Robinson used, and came out sounding like age. It conveyed so much. The rocky road they’d traveled together for too long. The way he always stood up for what was right no matter the cost. How he always had her back. Even when he didn’t agree.

  That didn’t mean he wouldn’t find a way to get his point across. While he’d clearly articulated his suspicions concerning Davis, he’d been silent about almost everything else. Until last night.

  Had she forced him into all of this? “So do you.”

  “Already got it.” A sad smile lined his lips as he exited the room.

  It hit her square in the chest. With a quick glance at Lilly, who shrugged, she followed him. She caught up as he neared the elevator, and touched the sleeve of his suit jacket. “Hey. Everything okay?”

  He turned, the same forced smile in place. Dread settled in her gut. This was the most standoffish she’d seen him in forever.

  “As good as can be expected.”

  “That’s not…” She closed her eyes a second. “Everything is not okay. I get that. Last night was—” Awful. In more ways than one.

  “Lilly’s right.” He sucked his bottom lip inward. “You should go home. Follow up with Davis and your case. I’ve got this covered.”

  What was this? Did he think she was itching to leave? “I know this isn’t how you envisioned things.”

  It certainly wasn’t how she’d imagined her life ten years ago, but she wouldn’t take it back. Would he? If he knew this is where they’d end up? In a hospital drinking sludge that didn’t pass for coffee. Arguing over decisions that shouldn’t be so hard. Fighting distrust of every person in their lives, when all they used to see was potential.

  Innocent until proven guilty. Not the other way around.

  His brows slammed together. “You’re saying that as if one of us can’t handle it.”

  She shook her head. Couldn’t swallow past the sudden lump in her throat. After everything they’d been through—bombs, serial killers, accidents—this couldn’t be the insurmountable moment in their relationship.