Thoughts like…What the heck is wrong with me? Socializing with a single father whose child went to her school was bad enough, but when that father was the man who’d broken her heart, the situation was untenable. She probably needed her head examined.
“Maybe I should go visit MaryAnn and see if her shrink could spare a minute or two for me,” she mumbled under her breath.
Not that she hadn’t had a wonderful time tonight. Mark had managed to keep the conversation going without excluding the kids. She hadn’t met a lot of men who bothered to do that. When children were around, they usually talked down to them or ignored them.
How had he learned to be such a good parent when he’d had such a poor role model? she wondered.
The question was still on her mind three hours later when Kate arrived home. “You’re early. Quiet night at Romantique?” she asked, following the sounds coming from the kitchen.
Kate looked up around the door of the fridge. “Hi. Want some juice?”
Alex shook her head. “No, thanks, but Liz would be proud seeing you pick OJ over soda.”
“Yeah, I got tired of her nagging,” Kate said, pouring the pulpy liquid into a glass. “Turns out my husband is something of a health nut, too, but he’s from California so what can you expect?”
She took a long drink then let out a sigh. “Actually, we were packed on the main floor and had two parties in the private rooms. This is the first year I’ve had businesses book their staff parties mid-week.” She polished off the juice then said, “Fortunately, we’ve added a couple of people to the crew. Our new hostess is nowhere near as outgoing and charming as Grace, but she kept things moving pretty well.”
“Grace really misses her old job.”
Kate nodded. “I know. It was just like old times when she filled in last weekend. I was a little leery about suggesting the idea to Jo. I was afraid she might feel weird since Grace used to be Jo’s employer. But my mother-in-law is amazing. Totally fine with it. We had a blast.”
“That’s good.”
Kate nodded, her mop of curls bouncing. Even from across the room, Alex could smell the scents of the kitchen that clung to her sister’s checkered pants and white chef’s shirt.
“Maya’s in bed.”
“Thanks. You didn’t have to bring her home, but I appreciate it. A lot. I hate coming in to a dark house when Rob is gone. Funny how quickly you get fixed in a routine.”
Alex couldn’t prevent a little stab of envy. Her house would be black and cold when she got home. If not for Tracey— She pushed the thought away, but some telling hint must have shown on her face because Kate said, “Let’s sit at the breakfast nook. I want to hear about tonight and, more importantly, what’s going on with you and Mark. When Mom called to get permission for you to take Maya to dinner, I nearly dropped a pan of lasagna.”
“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. Mom was supposed to join us but suddenly remembered a date with Zeke.”
Kate looked thoughtful. “Sounds as if she’s playing matchmaker, but that seems unlikely given what happened between you two. You’re not…um, dating him, are you?”
“Two kids don’t make for a terribly romantic meal,” Alex said, sidestepping the question.
Kate’s chuckle got lost in a yawn. “Very true.”
Neither spoke for a minute or two, then Kate said, “Alex, you know I’m not the prying kind, but if you ever want to talk about what’s going on in your life, I’d be happy to listen. We’ve both had our share of heartbreak, and I’m living proof that good things happen if you hang in there.”
Alex smiled. She and Kate had never been close, but she liked her second-to-youngest sister—a lot. “For a minute there I thought you were going to say you were living proof that prophecies come true.”
“There were times when I was convinced that Mom had copied mine off a fortune cookie, but then Rob and Ian both showed up in my life and I realized I really did have to fix the past before I could move forward.” She sighed as if glad to have all of that controversy behind her, then asked, “What’s yours again? I swear my brain is mushy from inhaling too much oregano.”
Alex laughed and stood up. “You’re just tired. Go to bed. We’ll talk later. I’m going home. I need to get some sleep, too. Nothing like two dozen kids wired on holiday hype to wear you down in a hurry.”
She gave her sister a hug then left. She’d planned to talk about Mark—get Kate’s take on the subject, but at the last minute she’d changed her mind. Tempting though it was to think that maybe she and Mark had a chance at a do-over, the hard reality was too much had changed in their lives. She had a plan and she needed to stick to it. If she survived the holidays—and more importantly, if she made it through her period without pain—she would set her plan in motion. She didn’t need Mark—or any man—in her life to do that.
Chapter Eleven
“I’m curious about something, Mark. Why’d you change jobs? I thought you liked being a cop.”
Nearly a week had passed since their dinner out with the kids. Mark had continued to show up at the Hippo each afternoon a couple of hours before Braden arrived. At the moment, he was assembling cardboard boxes that the children would decorate and use for the plaster of Paris handprint wall-hanging that they’d spent three art classes making and painting.
“Parts of the job were great, but dealing with the public can get old. A fire doesn’t talk back,” he quipped, looking up from the lid he’d just finished folding. He dropped it on the box he’d completed moments earlier then picked up another flat piece of cardboard. “Tracey was afraid she’d get passed over for advancement if we were in the same department. So, I took the test, passed it without a problem and made the switch.”
His broad shoulders lifted and fell in a careless shrug. “Turned out to be the right move.”
Alex was at her desk sealing past-due invoices in envelopes that she would personally hand to the parents after school. The process made her feel like a grinch, but late charges were a part of doing business—even at the holidays. “I’m glad to hear that. I was afraid my dad might have influenced your decision. He gave you a lot of grief about being in Metro.”
Mark chuckled. “That he did. Good ol’ Ernst…never met a cop he didn’t hate.”
“He wasn’t quite that bad, and in your case, part of his attitude came from the fact that you wanted to marry his daughter.”
He smiled at her in a way that made her wish she could turn back the hands of the clock. Ernst would have liked the man Mark had become—she was sure of it.
“Actually, my old man was the reason I chose law enforcement in the first place. I wanted to prove to him that I could make something of my life, and being a cop seemed like the furthest opposite of his life as possible.”
“Yeah, I remember you being pretty gung ho when we were dating.”
“Gung ho? That’s an understatement. I was intensely focused on my career at the time.”
“I didn’t mean it as a criticism.”
“I know. You’re too polite. But even if Tracey hadn’t pushed me to change jobs, I would have been looking for something different after Braden was born. I discovered that I liked being a dad and the fire department offered better hours.”
“Ah, good point. Was it tough to make the transition?”
“My friends in the force thought I was nuts, but Zeke was in my corner. I think he pulled a few strings to get me into the arson unit.”
“It occurred to me that you might not be a suspect if you were still working at Metro.”
He shook his head. “Wouldn’t have changed anything. The minute my name came up, the detectives on the case had to follow through. I wouldn’t have done anything differently if it was my case. Unfortunately, I don’t have an alibi for that night. After my shift was over, I went home, ate dinner, watched some TV and went to bed. Like usual. I called Tracey’s to talk to Braden, but there wasn’t any answer. I figured Tracey was screening her calls and avoiding me because of
something that had happened earlier in the week.”
“What happened?”
He frowned. “A friend who works in the Clark County High Density Drug Trafficking Area told me Tracey’s name had shown up during surveillance of a particularly notorious part of town. Lots of drug traffic. No arrests were made, but photos were taken, and Tracey was easy to spot since she used to be a cop.”
“What did she say when you confronted her?”
“The usual. That she’d been there looking for a friend who was having a hard time staying clean. She was adamant that she hadn’t done drugs in two months.” He looked down. “In hindsight it sounds naive on my part, but I believed her. She actually seemed to be getting her act together.”
Neither spoke for a minute, then Mark said, “Meth is bad stuff. Fairly easy to make, although volatile as hell. A lot of the street meth in this area comes from super labs in Mexico, but we see our share of methmaticians here, too.”
Alex started to ask about the friend Tracey had claimed to be looking for when Mark’s cell phone rang. He looked at the number on the display and groaned. “Odessa. The woman is totally whacked. She thinks if I go to jail she’ll get custody of Braden, but I’ll be damned if I let that happen. She ruined one kid and she’s never going to get her hands on my son.”
Alex had never heard him speak as harshly, not even when he talked about his father.
Mark pocketed the phone then stood up. “Where do you want these? I’d better get out to the bus. I wouldn’t put it past Odessa to abduct Braden if she saw her chance.”
“Does she know that he’s going to school here?”
Mark shook his head. “I don’t think so, but the woman is surprisingly resourceful for a habitual drug user. She found out about my suspension almost before I did.” His expression turned dark. “Tracey still had a few friends on the force when she died. I have a feeling someone is feeding Odessa information.”
Alex made a mental note to remind her staff that Braden was never to be released to anyone but his father. This Odessa woman sounded like someone Alex didn’t want to meet.
She finished sealing the envelopes and pushed back her chair to stand up. A pain jabbed her in the left side midway between her pelvis and ribs, making her cry out softly. She was anticipating the arrival of her first regular period since stopping the pill with mixed emotions. Getting back onto a normal cycle would be good—as long as the horrific pain she remembered from before didn’t return, too.
“Rita? Will you keep an eye on things a minute? I need something from my room.”
Her second-in-charge nodded and returned her attention to helping the five children at her table work on their number skills.
Alex pressed her fingers beneath the waistband of her jeans. No swelling that she could detect, but the area was tender. Just typical PMS, she told herself.
She took a couple of over-the-counter painkillers and returned to the classroom. Even before she stepped from the hallway to the main room, she could tell something had changed. The energy in the room fairly crackled.
Hurrying, she looked around. Rita and her group of students were at the front window looking out, along with both of her other aides. “What’s happening?”
“Two police cars just pulled up,” Rita said.
Alex didn’t bother with the window. She raced to the door, grabbing her wool sweater from the back of her desk chair. Before she’d taken two steps toward the gate, a third car pulled into the cul-de-sac. Zeke.
She knew without a doubt this had to do with Mark. He should have been back from the bus stop by now, she thought, hurrying across the wet grass to the far corner of the yard where she could see the street in both directions. A block away, a large orange bus was lumbering off.
The bigger bus was Luca’s. Lately, Mark had taken to waiting for the older boy to arrive from school, hoping Braden and Luca would become better acquainted. Had Mark seen the cops?
She watched the three figures turn and start toward the school. Mark was too far away for her to see his expression, but she could tell by the way his shoulders were set that he was bracing himself for something bad.
She hurried back to the gate and stepped out. “Zeke,” she called. “What’s going on?”
The silver-haired detective joined her. “The informant who gave us Mark’s name was found dead this morning. Gunshot.”
“That’s too bad, but surely you don’t think Mark did it?”
Zeke’s face was unreadable, but Alex could tell that he was upset. “We have to bring him in for questioning. Procedure. If his alibi checks out, he’ll be out in a couple of hours.”
“You’re going to take him away in a police car?” she cried. “In front of his son? No way. That isn’t right. Zeke, please, I’m begging you. Let Mark come inside and get Braden settled, then he can come back here and leave with you.”
Zeke’s gaze was on the man walking between two little boys. Mark appeared at ease, although Alex could tell he wasn’t.
“This dog-and-pony show wasn’t my idea,” Zeke said, his voice harsh. “I’ll keep them off his tail for ten minutes.”
Impulsively, Alex rose up on her toes to kiss his leathery cheek. “Thanks.” Then, she dashed to the corner to intercept Mark and the boys.
“Hi, guys. Lots of excitement today. We have to hurry and get inside, then Mark is going to come back and go with the police to help them.”
“Help them do what?” Luca asked.
“Solve a crime. Zeke couldn’t tell me all the details, but Mark is the only one who can help them find the bad guy.”
Mark hesitated, as if not sure whether to accompany her inside or not. She grabbed his arm and plastered herself to his side as she took Braden’s hand. “This is a really important job. I know you’ll have a wild story to tell us when you get back, but we need to chat a minute before you leave. Okay?”
He was close enough for her see the fine greenish gold tint to his irises. Such pretty eyes for a man, she’d always thought. Now, those eyes were narrowed with concern. “Sure,” he said, not even looking toward the police cars.
Alex did, though. Zeke was engaged in an animated discussion with two uniformed policemen and one female officer. The woman seemed visibly upset.
“That was Tracey’s best friend when she was on the force. Can’t remember her name,” Mark said, as he and Alex waited for Braden and Luca to walk into the building ahead of them.
“You’re not surprised she put on a big show to arrest you?” she asked.
He nodded. “Zeke called me on my cell as I was waiting for the bus. He wasn’t sure he’d get here in time to help.” His lips quivered a second then turned up. “I should have told him not to bother since you had raced to my rescue.”
She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. “What happens now? Are they arresting you?”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen.” He closed the door and turned to look her in the eyes. “Will you keep Braden if this runs long? I hate to ask, but I really don’t have a choice. I’m sorry. I know you don’t feel too hot today.”
His observation surprised her. She thought she’d hidden her symptoms well, but apparently not that well. “I’m fine. A little PMS. Braden can stay as long as it takes. I have a whole drawer of extra kids’ clothes that I’ve accumulated over the years. Not to worry.”
He nodded. “Thanks. That means a lot to me. Now, I’d better get inside and make up something to tell him.”
“Tell him the truth—well, as close to the truth as you can. I think he’s comfortable enough with me that he won’t feel abandoned.”
He put his hand on the small of her back and leaned around her to open the door. His lips brushed past her ear and he added, “You’re a lifesaver, Alex. Thank you.”
Then he kissed her.
Just a peck. Hopefully hidden from the cops on the street. But a sweet taste of the past—of what they’d almost had. And couldn’t have again, she reminded herself as she hurried insid
e.
Fortunately, she had her hands full calming the children and getting their focus off the flashing lights on the street.
“Everybody, where are your ears?” she asked, putting both hands to either side of her head. “What do we do with our ears?”
“Listen,” the high-pitched chorus cried.
“Good. Then come to the circle and sit down, and while we talk about the police officers who are helpers in our lives, Miss Rita will get our snack ready. Luca, Maya, will you join us, please? Braden can come when he’s done talking with his daddy.”
Maya, who had been part of the group at the window until her friend walked inside, didn’t appear anxious to leave Braden’s side. “But Auntie Alex—”
“Can you come by yourself or do you need my help?”
With a dramatic sigh, the little girl trudged across the room and sat down—well away from Alex. Luca, who usually stayed at the “big kid” table, sat down beside her.
“Thank you. Now, who can tell me what kinds of officers were outside just now?”
“I know. I know,” William shouted. “Police.”
Mark heard the word reverberate through the connected rooms, but his attention was focused on his son. How did he tell Braden that he might be arrested?
He pulled up one of the spare chairs and sat down, his knees practically touching his chest. “Bray, I have to go with Zeke. You remember him, don’t you? He’s a police officer. Like Mommy used to be.”
Braden had hung up his coat and turned to face Mark. Even though no question came from his son’s lips, Mark could hear the big “Why?”
“I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen, son. I might be there a couple of hours, maybe even overnight. But Alex said you could stay with her for however long this takes. Are you okay with that? You like her. You’re safe here. Everything will be okay. I promise.”
Mark held out his arms. “Hug goodbye?”
Braden ran to him. His thin arms squeezed Mark tightly. Mark was blinking back tears when he looked up and spotted Zeke in the doorway of the cloakroom. He kissed his son then turned him around and pointed him toward the rug with the sunshine circle. “Be good for Alex. I love you, Braden.”
The Quiet Child Page 10