“Cody told me she made him hot chocolate with lots of marshmallows and she told him his kitten is pretty. He’s now hers for life,” Bree said. “She was here when I got home because she was nervous about staying home alone. I wouldn’t be surprised if Tim hadn’t been hanging around her place.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised, either. He might have hoped she’d get scared enough to come running back to him.”
“I told her she could spend the night, since she didn’t know when her parents would be coming home,” she told him.
“You’re really good at this mom thing,” he said. “Did you always want to wrap up cop and mom into one package?”
“Not exactly. What about you? Were you practicing your reporter skills when you were a kid? Did you ask your third grade teacher how she felt when she found a frog in her desk drawer?”
“Nah. I would have been the one to put the frog in there. When I was a kid I wanted to be an astronaut,” Cole confided.
His admission surprised her. “Really?”
“Yep.”
“What happened?”
“I found out I was afraid of heights.”
“Are you ever serious about anything?”
“Think about it, Fitzpatrick, and you’ll know exactly what I’m serious about,” he said quietly. “’Night.”
It took a moment for Bree to realize he’d hung up.
It didn’t take her even that long to figure out what he was serious about. And that took her breath away.
Bree’s next wake-up call was also animal related.
“Mom.” The whisperer had cinnamon-and-milk-scented breath. “Mom, are you awake?”
She didn’t open her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mom is not available to take your call. Please leave a message after the beep. Beeep!” At the last word, she reached out and grabbed Cody, pulling him onto the bed.
Cody’s shriek mixed with Bree’s when she realized her son was holding his kitten. The kitten meowed and dug in her tiny claws.
“Lacey made pancakes,” Cody told his mother, moving off and bouncing up and down on the bed. “Cinnamon ones and they’re really good. Come and have some.”
“That I will do.” She tossed the covers aside.
“Jinx got mad last night,” Cody said, watching her pull on her robe. “He growled when he got up and left my room. So he must have heard something, huh?”
“Probably a rabbit,” Bree said blithely, scooping the kitten up off her pillow before she could make herself at home. “Let’s see if there’re any pancakes left.”
“Jinx doesn’t chase rabbits. He knows he’s not supposed to,” Cody said, following his mother down the hallway. “He’s a police dog,” he reminded her unnecessarily.
“Even police dogs think about chasing rabbits.” She circled his shoulders with her arm and hugged him.
“Mom!” Sara stormed down the hallway, her slim figure vibrating with fury, her brown eyes spitting fire. “She made breakfast.”
“You make it sound as if she concocted some horrible poison.” Bree kept her voice low. She could hear Lacey’s and David’s voices coming from the kitchen, although she couldn’t make out actual words.
“I cook on Saturday mornings,” Sara announced, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
“Lacey is our guest, and if she wanted to cook, I’d say you should graciously let her. And I also suggest you offer to do the dishes.”
“It seems I had no choice.”
“That’s cuz you didn’t want to get up and cook and Lacey did,” Cody announced.
Bree glanced at one then the other. Sara looked as if she wanted to pounce on her little brother. Cody held Eartha Katt protectively in his arms and glared at his sister.
“No more battles,” Bree said in a firm voice. “We will sit down and have a friendly family breakfast. Am I understood?” She made eye contact with each one to insure they got the message. Sara nodded reluctantly. Cody’s head bobbed up and down. “Good. Now, I am going to try some of those cinnamon pancakes.” She walked away, leaving them behind.
When she entered the kitchen, she found Lacey and David standing close together at the sink. Lacey looked over her shoulder, saw Bree and blushed hotly, moving away from David and toward the frying pan. The rich scent of cinnamon hung in the air.
“Good morning,” she said awkwardly. “I hope you don’t mind that I made breakfast.”
“Mind? Cooking has never been one of my favorite activities,” Bree admitted, as she poured herself a cup of coffee. “I’m sure the kids already told you that.”
“There’s been more than a few casseroles that are better left forgotten,” David said, a twinkle in his eye.
“Forgotten being the operative word.” Bree sat down as Lacey set a plate of pancakes in front of her. She noticed a covered plate in the middle of the table. Investigation revealed crisp bacon. A few bites of pancake and Bree knew she was in heaven. “These are fantastic,” she declared.
“It’s a recipe I made up when I used to fool around with different ideas. Like your casseroles, some of them weren’t too memorable.” Lacey smiled.
“More, please!” Cody hopped into his chair.
Bree noticed that Sara slipped into the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of juice before sitting at the table.
Bree concentrated on her food and listened to the conversation around her. She listened to David telling Lacey he’d run her home when she was ready and that he’d drop Sara off at the library.
“Lacey, you can cook here anytime you want,” Bree told her. “Now if you all don’t mind, Jinx and I are going for a much needed run.”
“I have a soccer game this afternoon,” Cody reminded her.
“And I will be there,” she promised as she rose to her feet.
Ten minutes later, Bree adjusted the leash that attached to a special belt wrapped around her waist, along with her fanny pack, which held her cell phone and identification. Jinx’s ears twitched and his body quivered in anticipation of one of his favorite activities. She started out at a slow lope along the side of the road. Jinx kept pace with her.
“I don’t know, boy,” Bree said. “It seems like there’s a romance brewing. He’s too young to get serious about a girl. Any girl. Even one who can cook.” As her muscles started to warm up, she stepped up the pace. “And I’m not ready to think about romance. Even with a charmer like Cole Becker. He’s got one agenda and I’ve got another. And never the twain shall meet.”
Bree’s first indication something was wrong was Jinx lifting his head and swiveling it to the side. His growl came a bare second before a large vehicle sped past them, so closely she barely had time to release Jinx’s leash as she dove off the side of the road to avoid being hit. By the time she looked up, the truck was already racing out of sight, but the distinctive sound of the engine wouldn’t leave her memory. She’d heard it last night.
“Damn!” She sat up, brushing dirt and pebbles off her hands. She winced as she felt a few aches traveling up her limbs.
Jinx whined and pawed at one of her legs. He cocked his head to one side as if asking if she was all right.
Bree got up slowly, noticing the scrapes along her legs and arms and the tear in her tank top. She could feel the imprint of her fanny pack against her aching side.
She looked down at the dog.
“If someone is trying to tick me off, they are sure going about it the right way.”
Chapter 10
“What in the world happened to you?” Greta stopped and turned off the small vacuum cleaner she was pushing across the carpet. “Tell me the other guy looks worse.”
“No such luck, considering he was inside a big truck and I was on the road. Are you telling me I look that bad? And here I thought I looked pretty good,” Bree joked, walking slowly into the shop.
“You look as if you got into a fight at the playground.” She moved behind the counter.
“More like a truck that wanted the strip of road I happened to be o
n. Could I get four large coffees to go?”
“Emerald Creme, French Roast or Sumatran Blend?”
“Make them all French Roast.” Bree looked ruefully down at her legs, bare under her denim skirt. “I tried putting on jeans but the scrapes are too fresh. I feel like I’m ten years old.”
Greta paused in pouring the coffee into large cups. “You look it, too. So you’re telling me you were run off the road?”
She nodded. “Jinx and I went out for a run this morning and a big truck appeared out of nowhere. Came by so fast we had no option but to get off the road before we were tossed off. Jinx ended up better off than me.”
Greta clucked her tongue and shook her head. “That’s terrible. You could have been badly hurt.”
Bree had thought the same thing but didn’t want to voice the thought.
“All I know is if I see that truck, the driver is getting more than a ticket for reckless driving,” she muttered, laying money for the coffee on the counter.
“If he’s cute, can I help with the strip search?” Greta asked with a hopeful gleam in her eye.
“By the time I finish with him, there won’t be anything left to search,” Bree said grimly, opening a glass container and pulling out a handful of large cookies. She laid down money for those, too. “This truck has haunted me long enough,” she muttered.
Greta paused. “Haunted you? Bree! What is going on? You mean you’ve seen the truck before?”
“I’ve only heard it a couple of times,” she explained. “It has a distinctive sound in the engine that you don’t forget. Otherwise, all I know is that it’s a dually, a dark color, and seems to like to hang out at my house late at night.”
“Maybe it’s teenagers looking for a quiet make-out spot?” she suggested, handing over a bag for the cookies.
Bree shook her head. “No kid, no matter how desperate, would park practically in my backyard. Not with Jinx on guard. He knows the difference between friend and foe.”
“The difference?” Greta immediately picked up on her tone and wording. She looked concerned. “Bree, what’s going on? And what about your dinner date with Cole? How did that go?”
Bree glanced at her watch. She wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about either situation just yet. Although she was greatly tempted to talk about Cole. “I’ve got to get to Cody’s game.”
“You’re off the hook. For now. Lunch on Monday,” Greta stated. “Be at The Eatery at one.”
“You’re on.” She grabbed the cookies and cups and almost ran for the door.
Bree raced over to the park where the junior soccer league played, and quickly parked next to David’s truck. She scanned the grassy area and found David, Lacey and Sara seated on folding beach chairs, with an empty one next to Sara.
“Anything happen yet?” Bree asked, handing a coffee cup to each before dropping onto the empty chair.
“What kind of cookies?” David almost pounced on the bag. He opened it and sniffed the contents.
“Citrus with white chocolate chips.”
He made a face. “You couldn’t have gotten oatmeal, chocolate chip or even sugar? You had to take citrus, didn’t you? I’m buying some of those slice and bake cookies for the next game.”
“Barbarian.” Lacey grinned, taking one of the cookies and biting into it. “Thanks, Mrs. Fitzpatrick.”
“Call me Bree,” she told the girl. “I won’t feel as old then.” She stretched her legs out in front of her.
“The referee is a jerk,” David announced. “But I heard he’s an equal opportunity jerk.” He slanted a look at his stepmother. “Cody begged me to make sure you don’t do anything.”
Bree rolled her eyes. “I already promised him I wouldn’t pull my weapon out. Next time he’ll want me to take a blood vow.”
Lacey looked from one to the other in confusion.
“Mom gets a little overheated when the referee makes a bad decision,” David explained. “Last year, they gave her a trophy for being the parent thrown out of the most games. She still holds the league record. No mother has been thrown out of more games than her.”
“It wasn’t that bad!” Bree held up her hand as she defended herself. “I behaved when you were in Little League.”
David rolled his eyes. “The umpire threatened to get a restraining order.”
“I merely suggested the umpire have his eyes checked,” she said huffily.
“She was a lot more forceful than that,” Sara interjected. “She told him to go back to umpire school. That’s when she was banned from the rest of the season’s games. Mom is the stage mother from hell.”
“I sure wish I’d seen that.” Cole dropped down on the grass next to Bree. He looked up and smiled.
“What are you doing here?” she crossly demanded, feeling that the world was picking on her.
“I always report on the games,” he said amiably. “From what I’ve heard, I might have even more to report this time. My readers love human interest stories.”
“Don’t bet on it.” She switched her coffee cup to her other hand when she noticed him eyeing it. “You should have brought your own.”
“Didn’t have time. Overslept. Got a crank call last night that kept me awake.” He flashed her a wicked grin.
“I heard the newspaper business can be brutal to one’s lifestyle.” She jumped up when she saw that Cody had the ball and was guiding it toward his goal. “Go for it, Cody!”
“What happened to you?” Cole asked, noticing the cuts and scrapes on Bree’s legs.
“I had a little tussle with a big truck on the road this morning when Jinx and I went out for our run. The truck won.” She kept her voice low so she wouldn’t be overheard.
He lifted an eyebrow. Her saying it was a truck piqued his interest. “Any truck in particular?” he murmured. “You didn’t happen to get a license plate number, did you?”
Bree shook her head. “I was too busy rolling in the dirt and making sure I didn’t get run over. I don’t think he meant to hit me. I think he just wanted to give me a good scare.”
Cole kept his gaze focused on her face. “Judging by that gleam in your eye, I’d say you weren’t all that frightened.”
“Too bad I couldn’t have at least tried shooting his tires out.” She kept her voice low and a smile on her face, but Cole couldn’t miss the fury shooting out of her eyes.
If he was a nice guy, he’d feel real sorry for the driver when Bree caught up with him.
“Oh come on!” Bree leaped to her feet again. “There was nothing wrong with that goal!”
“Mom, you promised,” Sara reminded her.
“I promised not to shoot anyone,” she said. “But when referees are outright blind, I will point it out.” She ignored a woman who glared at her.
“Blind referee’s wife,” Cole said under his breath. “She’s also his biggest supporter.”
“Then she should teach him the rules.”
Cole watched with open amazement as Bree revealed her rabid soccer mom side. Sara and David tried to remind her of promises she’d made and, so far, had broken. Bree cheerfully ignored them, too.
“Is she always like this?” Cole asked David.
“This is actually a good day,” he replied. “She’s usually much worse.”
“What did you do with her on the bad days? Put her in handcuffs?”
“Dad thought about it a few times. He explained to her she wasn’t helping and she told him to stuff a sock in it.”
“In other words, stand clear.”
Both teenagers nodded.
Cole decided to sit back and enjoy the show. At one point, he happened to look across the field. A man stood at the edge of the parking lot next to the grassy field. Cole figured he stood there with the sun at his back so it wouldn’t be easy to identify him. The man made doubly sure of hiding his identity by keeping his hat tugged down low on his forehead. His mirrored sunglasses obscured half his face.
“Think we’re being watched again?” Cole mut
tered.
Bree heard him and turned her head just enough to see what he was looking at.
“An interested father?” she asked for his ears only.
“If it was, you’d think he’d be over on this side of the field. And his interest seems more in us than in the kids. Think I should go over and ask him what his problem is?”
“I doubt he’ll be around by the time you get there.”
Sure enough, a moment later the man turned and walked away.
Bree studied the man’s build, the way he moved, but there was nothing distinctive about them. The bright afternoon sun didn’t help, either.
She turned back with the intention of focusing on the game. “Whoever it was knew enough to stand where the sun would be in our eyes in case we noticed him,” she said quietly.
“Not to mention we were so busy watching the game we don’t know how long he was there,” Cole replied. “But I’d say he was there long enough if he wanted to make a point. What do you think, Detective?”
“He’s thrown the ball into our court.” She immediately spied a foul. She started to rise up out of her chair again, then dropped back down. “No, if I say one more thing, Cody will make sure they ban me from the field forever, and I couldn’t bear that.”
“Nothing more dangerous than a soccer mom,” Cole quipped, quickly ducking to avoid Bree’s playful smack upside the head.
“Okay, give,” Greta ordered when Bree met her for lunch on Monday.
“Which part?” she asked with an innocent, wide-eyed look.
Greta held out her hands as if she was going to strangle Bree. “I don’t care where you start, because I want to hear it all. Your accident. Your date with Cole. The more lascivious, the better.”
“There’s nothing lascivious to tell.”
“Anyone who says there’s nothing means the exact opposite. Why don’t you start off by telling me about your date with Cole Becker? After that, you can tell me what turned you into a walking train wreck Saturday.”
“I wouldn’t call what we had a date. And I wouldn’t exactly call what happened to me Saturday a battle with a train,” she argued. She looked askance at the large bowl set in front of her. “Excuse me, but I ordered a garden salad.”
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