Maybe.
“Then what do you need, girl?”
“Just … just, will you call me if I can do anything?”
A hacking cough filtered through the line and made Paige wince. Then her mother laughed. “You can send me some money. That’s about all I need. At least for the next few months. Then I suppose you won’t have to worry about me anymore.”
“Mom …”
“See ya, Paige.”
Click. Paige pulled the phone from her ear and stared at the screen.
Why did she even bother?
Yet a tiny part of her admitted she wanted her mother to tell her she loved her. Another part of her was mad that she cared.
Enough of the past. Paige shoved the thoughts away and focused on the present.
Standing off to the side, near the window, Paige sipped her coffee and looked out into the still dark street.
In a few minutes, she would call Charles and find out if he’d gotten a hit on the partial plate she’d given him. In addition to the plate, she’d added a vague description of the car. With those two things, he should be able to dramatically narrow down the list.
Then she would call Dylan and see if she could help him work on his files to come up with someone who had a grudge against him.
Still, something niggled at the back of her mind. She couldn’t shake the feeling she was missing something. Something that should be obvious.
What was it?
Her phone rang and she jumped. Rolling her eyes at her reaction, she snatched the device from the counter.
Charles. He’d beat her to the draw.
She punched the button and said, “You’re up early.”
“I’ve got a case I want closed.”
His gruff voice made her smile. Then she frowned. “What do you have?”
“Your plate and description of the car came up with only one possibility. Simon Moore.”
She set her coffee down with a thud. It sloshed over the rim and burned her thumb. Ignoring it, she said, “The reporter.”
“Yeah. I would tell you to let the sheriff haul him in so you could question him, but I’m not ready for you to break cover yet. So—” he blew out a breath “—I’m going to have one of our agents call him for questioning, and you can drive in to the Bryson City police department and do your thing. A detective will wear an earpiece and relay your questions to Mr. Moore.”
“That sounds good.” She could do that. “What about the footprint outside my window? Anything back from the lab on that?”
“They’ve got the cast of it. Size ten tennis shoe.”
“So now I need to provide you a suspect so you can compare his shoes.”
“Exactly.”
“I’ll get right on that.”
She hung up. So, she wouldn’t be going through files with Dylan today. The stinging disappointment surprised her. Then she chastised herself. Dylan had been transparent last night when he’d commented for the second time on the fact that she’d be a great mom.
It drove home the point.
She and Dylan weren’t meant to be together.
And that hurt.
A lot.
When she was with him, she didn’t want to leave. When she was away from him, he was constantly in the back of her thoughts. Or she was just plain thinking about him.
God? I know I haven’t been very communicative lately. She paused. And I’m sorry about that. Dylan’s very committed to You. And I find that I really like that about him. It makes me want to know him more, but the whole mother thing … Well, you know how I feel about that. I’ve already failed once and … I’m just … afraid. There, I said it. So, now what?
She waited, but didn’t get an answer. Had she been expecting one? Maybe. She thought about the Stuarts. The family who’d taken her in and taught her about God. Told her she could be somebody different. Encouraged her to do well in school and get out of that neighborhood.
Mama Ida and Papa Stu. She’d been with them when Ben had stopped coughing. She hated to remember how she’d forgotten about him and enjoyed the company of Mama Ida and Papa Stu, while illness overtook his little body.
They’d be disappointed that she’d let her faith wane and her closeness with God dissipate. A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard. Well, at least that was one thing she did have the power to change.
Shaking her head, pushing her personal thoughts aside for the moment, she dialed Dylan’s number.
At the sound of his voice, her feelings for this man came flooding back. She pushed them away. She’d never allow herself to put a child’s well-being in her hands. Not after she’d followed her mother’s example and ignored the suffering of another child in the next room. The police hadn’t found her mother at fault, but Paige knew differently. Both she and her mother had been guilty of neglect. But she was only eight years old. The reasonable part of her mind knew that she couldn’t be held responsible. But her heart had a hard time accepting it.
When she’d explained to Dylan her plans for the morning had changed, he’d insisted on changing his, too. He’d arranged for a babysitter for Will and met her in front of her house.
“Hop in, I’ll drive.”
Hesitating, she bit her lip. “I don’t know, Dylan, I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
His eyes hardened. “If he was the man at my house the other night, I need to know. Someone is terrorizing my nephew, and I refuse to sit by twiddling my thumbs when I can be proactive.”
Paige saw the determination on his face and figured she might as well just give in gracefully. If he wanted to go, why not?
“We don’t know that this is the person who was at your house.”
“But he could be.”
He waited. Blowing out a sigh of surrender, she climbed in. At least she would have company on the way.
Good company.
Company she didn’t think she’d ever grow tired of.
As he drove, Paige kept an eye on the rearview and side mirrors. Just because they had someone in custody didn’t mean they had the right someone.
“Do you ever wonder what your mother’s doing now?”
The question jolted her. “What?”
“Your mother. You’re not even curious how she’s doing?”
Paige pursed her lips. “When you’ve been hurt by someone as much as she’s hurt me, at some point you just kind of … write that person off.”
No point in mentioning the phone call this morning.
She was still processing the hurt, trying to push it behind the wall that had her mother’s name on it.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She shrugged. “It is what it is. I don’t let it bother me that much.” Liar.
“So you know where she is?”
“I do.”
“Oh.”
He drove in silence for about ten minutes. Paige waited, and he didn’t disappoint her. “Where is she?”
“In the same nasty little house I grew up in.” Paige paused. “She has terminal liver cancer and about two more months to live according to the last report I got from the doctor who agreed to talk to me. For what it’s worth, I offered to let her come live with me, and she turned me down. End of story.”
“Please. Let’s just change the subject, okay?” Her mother’s rejection still stung. It shouldn’t, but it did.
“Sure.”
“Did you get an alarm system put in?” she asked.
“They’re working on it even as we speak.”
“Good.”
They rode in silence for the rest of the ride.
Paige could feel Dylan’s tension and felt her own stress rise as a result.
Located on Main Street, the two-story, Bryson City Police Department building looked new.
Wheeling into the parking lot, Dylan found a spot near the door, and they climbed out. Once inside the building, she gave her name, flashed her badge and, within minutes, she and Dylan were greeted by Chief Zachary Bennett.
Paige chewed her bottom lip as she considered how to go about this. “I want to do this without blowing my cover, if at all possible. My boss said he’d arranged for me to wear an earpiece and feed questions about what to ask Mr. Moore.”
“He did.” The chief motioned for one of his officers and put in the request. The officer left to do his bidding, and Chief Bennett showed Paige and Dylan into an observation room.
Paige made herself comfortable in one of the padded chairs. Dylan followed her lead and lowered himself into the one next to hers. Through the two-way mirror, she could see Simon Moore seated at the lone table in the interrogation room. His right leg jiggled under the table, and he chewed a nail on his left hand.
The chief spoke. “Detective Means is getting fitted with the earpiece now. He’ll be questioning Mr. Moore.”
“Did you get a search warrant for his place?”
“Sure did. I’ve got officers there now. If they find anything worth noting, one of them will either call or bring it by. He lives about ten minutes from here.”
“We’re specifically looking for a shoe to match up with a cast we got outside a window.”
“Yeah, that’s what your boss said.” The chief stood to the side. “We didn’t have time to run a test, so ask him to show you he can hear you when he gets in there.”
Paige nodded and sat back. She was ready.
A short wait later, the door opened and Detective Means walked in, looking relaxed. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was ready for a picnic in the park.
Paige tensed and spoke into the small microphone. “Rub your nose if you can hear me.”
Detective Means scratched the edge of his nose as though it itched.
From the corner of her eye, she could see Dylan watching her. His expression remained unreadable, thoughtful. She wanted to know what he was thinking. Did he regret coming with her?
She couldn’t worry about that now.
But she did wonder.
Dylan was thinking he’d gotten himself involved with a woman who confused him on just about all levels. On the one hand, he’d seen her vulnerable and hurt. And in hindsight, he realized she’d just been doing her job when she pushed through her pain to question him about his sister and the fire when all she probably wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep.
On the other hand, he’d seen her determined to catch the man who’d tried to break into her house—and the steel in her eyes when she’d silently conveyed to him to keep his mouth shut with Eli.
And now this. He needed a third hand. Here she was the consummate professional, ready to question the man on the other side of the mirror via the technology provided—without breaking her cover.
Simply put, she was amazing. And everything he’d ever wanted in a woman.
Except for one insurmountable obstacle.
She didn’t want to be a mother.
And he’d never give up Will.
Not even for her.
Not that she’d ever ask him to do that. Because in the short amount of time he’d known her, he’d realized something about her that she probably didn’t even recognize about herself.
She was one of the most giving, selfless people he’d ever met.
The chief left the small room, then Paige’s voice made him blink. She was saying, “Ask him why his blood was found on the glass he broke trying to get into my house.”
A little gotcha smile played on her lips. She looked like the proverbial cat who’d caught the doomed canary.
Simon froze. “What?” His left hand went to his right elbow. He stared into the detective’s eyes a moment longer, then his shoulders slumped.
“Got him,” Paige whispered.
“Why?” Dylan asked.
She glanced at him. “We’ve got his DNA. He knows it and we know it. Now, it’s just a matter of if he’s willing to talk without a lawyer present.”
Simon stood and paced to the small window. His chin barely topped the sill. “All right. I was there.”
Paige bolted to her feet. “Ha. I knew it.”
“We know you were there.” Detective Means leaned forward, placing his palms on the table as he watched Simon pace back to the chair. “We also have a partial plate that matches your vehicle.”
The reporter waved a hand. “Okay, I get it. You’ve got me cold.”
“You’d better believe it.”
Paige shot him a grin, and Dylan couldn’t help the answering smile. The high she got catching bad guys must be the same one he got helping people heal.
Into the microphone, she said, “Ask him what he was doing there. What does Paige Worth have that he wants?”
The detective asked.
The reporter snorted. “A story. What else?” He spread his hands. “I’m simply after a story.”
“Then why try to break in Dylan Seabrook’s home last night?” Paige fed him the question.
Simon jerked. “What? I didn’t.”
Derision filled Detective Means’s face. “Come on, Moore, you can do better than that.”
“Seriously, I wasn’t even in Rose Mountain last night, and I can prove it.”
“But you admit the attempted break-in at Ms. Worth’s house.”
Moore sighed and closed his eyes. “Yes. I mean no. I mean—”
“Come on. It has to be one or the other.”
“Yes, I was there that night. No, I wasn’t trying to break in.”
The chief popped his head in the door, and Dylan watched him give a thumbs up to Paige. “We’ve got a shoe that matches the cast.”
Satisfaction curled through Dylan. So, all of the crazy incidents that had happened over the past few days were caused by that man. A reporter.
“But why?”
Paige overheard his whispered question and nodded indicating the detective was getting to that.
When asked the question, Simon Moore grimaced, then gave a sheepish grin. “For a story, of course.” He shrugged. “Ms. Worth wouldn’t talk to the reporters after she saved the kid’s life. I figured if I got the scoop, well …”
“It wouldn’t hurt your career any.”
The reporter flushed. “Yeah. At her house, I was just trying to get a picture, overhear some conversation, whatever. Then I slipped, and my elbow went through the window.”
“What about Dylan’s office last week? What were you looking for?” Paige asked into the microphone.
The detective blinked, but didn’t change expression. He transferred the question to Simon.
Simon’s flush deepened, confirming Paige’s suspicions. “I was looking for his schedule, his home address. Anything that would lead me to where he had the kid.”
“But you weren’t at his house last night?” Detective Means didn’t bother to hide his skepticism.
“No,” the reporter insisted. “I wasn’t there.” He set his jaw. “And I’m not saying I was just because you want it to be true.”
Dylan believed the man. He didn’t want to, but he did.
But if it hadn’t been Simon Moore in his garage last night, who had scared Will?
ELEVEN
Dylan absently stroked his cheek as he drove.
Paige eyed the sky. “More rain.”
“You sound disgusted.”
“A little. The weather’s been pretty bad off and on for the past few weeks.”
He saw her gaze flick to the rearview mirror. She was still alert, still worried about something if the lines on her forehead were any indication.
He wasn’t sure why.
The interrogation had determined that Simon Moore had not only been the man outside Paige’s house that night, but he’d also tried to sneak into her room at the hospital. He’d looked familiar to Dylan, and when he’d asked Paige to pass that question on to the detective, Moore confirmed it.
He supposed she was still anxious because they still didn’t know w
ho had been driving the car in the school zone that nearly killed Will and Paige. Moore’s white car showed no signs of damage, nor had it been fixed since the hit-and-run. Which meant they also still didn’t know who had been outside in his garage last night.
He sighed and looked at the woman beside him. “Cheryl, my housekeeper—and friend—has Will. She has to take her husband to the doctor, so she’s going to drop off Will to me.”
“Why don’t you ask her to bring him to wherever his favorite fast-food restaurant is? He can play while we work.”
He thought about that. So, she wasn’t in any hurry to part company with him. Was it because she wanted to be with him, or because she really thought they could figure something out?
“I can have Cheryl bring the file that I found that has the most potential for someone to have a grudge against me.”
She flashed him a smile. “That’d be great.”
Dylan got on the phone and made the arrangements.
Even while he was on the phone with Cheryl, his heart picked up speed at the thought of spending the rest of the day with Paige.
Then Will’s face flashed across his mind and his stomach plunged. Please Lord, show me what You want. Don’t let me fall for another woman who won’t fit into our lives.
Throwing up the walls around his heart, he pulled into the parking lot and found a spot near the door.
Cheryl had beat him here. Her car was three spaces down.
Once inside the restaurant, Will spotted Paige first and darted to her side. He stood there staring at her. She smiled and reached out to give the little boy a hug. Will squeezed her neck, then turned to look at Dylan. Dylan nodded to the playground area and Will took off.
Paige greeted Cheryl with a smile and a short hug. “Thanks again for arranging to fill my freezer. I won’t have to cook for a year.”
Cheryl laughed. “It was our pleasure. We’re happiest when feeding someone.”
Knowing Cheryl needed to get going, Dylan said, “Thanks so much for keeping him this morning.”
“It’s never a problem. You know I consider that boy like one of my own grandchildren.”
Dylan gave her a hug and asked Paige, “Will you keep an eye on Will while I walk her to her car?”
Agent Undercover Page 10