The Fugitive's Secret Child

by Geri Krotow

  It crystallized like old honey in her mind—Rob wanted to be a father to Jake because he hadn’t had one. Rob didn’t want to fail Jake the way he’d been failed.

  And in Rob’s eyes, he’d already failed Jake by walking away five years ago and never even considering Jake could have been his son.

  “It’ll be fine, Rob. We can be the couple that doesn’t have a lot of time for church but wants to make a difference, so we sign up to be on the rotation for the strip club lunch meals. We’ll offer to go to the truck stop together, too. Most couples with families probably don’t want to spend prime time at the truck stop trying to draw in sex workers, I’m thinking.”

  Claudia shot her a grateful look.

  Rob’s expression was stony. “I’ll do whatever the mission requires.”

  “Great.” Claudia looked pleased as a groundhog in a vegetable garden. “So, not to rush you, but time is of the essence. We have to get these girls off their jobs quickly, before the ROC group thinks they’re making a major profit. The third Wednesday of the month happens to be the morning the SVCC hosts its welcome reception for new volunteers on any of their committees. That unfortunately was yesterday. I suggest you two wait until next month to sign up for the trafficked worker outreach group, so that you don’t look suspicious. In the meantime, attend SVCC services together. Become a staple couple in the community.”

  “We’re supposed to blend in with all of these do-gooders?” Rob grumbled as if he were ten and being forced to endure a long, boring sermon. Trina stifled a giggle. After what they’d been through in less than a week, time with active, service-oriented people did sound a little sleepy.

  Claudia smiled as she replied. “You’ll be joining the Community Hand Up group. Report back as necessary. And Trina, I’ve spoken to Corey. You’re free from going in to the Marshals office until we wrap this case. Keep training here, and you two coordinate daily on what intelligence reports come in regarding ROC and the smuggled sex workers. I trust you to know when to move in and break it all up.”

  “Thank you, Claudia. I hope we get it solved quickly.” Trina didn’t have any idea how long she and Rob would need to wait to be able to save more underage girls, but she’d do whatever it took.

  “You will.” Claudia sat with her hands on her desk, having obviously moved on mentally from their discussion. Trina couldn’t begin to imagine how much Claudia was responsible for.

  “Let’s go.” Rob stood first, and Trina followed him out of the office and into the parking lot. Only in front of her car did he turn to face her, his face resigned.

  “What’s bothering you so much, Rob?”

  “A few things, but mostly it’s the fact that I want to spend all my free time getting to know my son. I was hoping we’d tell him who I am sooner rather than later. But now with this case, that might be postponed indefinitely.”

  “It won’t be.” She decided to leap before thinking things through too much—her weakness had always been overanalyzing her actions. “Tell you what. We both need to eat dinner, right? How do you feel about hamburgers and hot dogs on the grill tonight? I have some fresh corn on the cob from the Amish market down the road, too.”

  Rob’s eyes sparked with interest, the first positive sign she’d read from him since Claudia had mentioned the church involvement. “I’m not a charity case myself, Trina.”

  “I didn’t say you were. My brother’s out of town this week, and I hate using the gas grill my parents gave me for Mother’s Day. Do you like to barbecue?”

  “Are you kidding? I’m the best griller this side of the Susquehanna.”

  Chapter 11

  “Mom, can we give Rob the red corn holders?” Jake placed two corn holders on the counter as he rummaged in the kitchen junk drawer. “You have clear and I’ll have blue.”

  “Sure, sweetie. Sounds good.” Trina was trying to stay present as she organized the kitchen for their impromptu barbecue. While she’d had the meal planned out well in advance, she hadn’t known Rob would be their guest. She had plenty of food for three, but would have made more of an effort than hot dogs and hamburgers for Rob.

  “Hello?” Rob tapped on the back screen door, just as she’d suggested.

  “Come in, come in!” Jake ran around in circles, Renegade yapping his puppy head off as he raced after Jake. Jake stopped in front of the door. Trina didn’t know whether to be glad that her son trusted Rob so much or worried that he’d let his guard down so quickly.

  “Hey, buddy!” Rob knelt down to Jake’s eye level and the two fist-bumped and high-fived. Seeing Jake’s small hand against Rob’s massive paw made Trina’s heart lurch. Jake had Rob’s hands—it was one of the first things she’d noticed when Jake was born. He had the same crooked thumbs, the wide fingernails, as Rob. The memory made her wonder when or if Jake would ever observe that he had many of the same physical attributes as Rob. Would Jake ask about Rob being his dad before she or Rob told him?

  Rob stood and produced a huge bouquet of daisies from behind his back. “These are for you. Thanks for having me.”

  Unexpected joy leaped in her belly. “How nice. You didn’t have to do this, but I’m happy you did. Jake, can you please find a jar under the sink for these?” As Jake slammed open a cupboard, Trina looked at Rob. “I have nicer vases, but they’re in boxes. We’ve only been here a short time and I haven’t been able to get everything unpacked.”

  “This is why I couldn’t find you at first.”

  “Pardon?” The steely tone in her query wasn’t on purpose. It was as if she automatically put up barbed wire fences whenever Rob was nice to her.

  “I tried to find where you lived, to come see you. Your apartment in Harrisburg was still listed in the database I used.”

  “Oh. I mean, that’s understandable, that it still has the old address. But I thought TH was up-to-date on everything?”

  “I used a regular civilian database. I paid ten bucks to find you. How’s that for a charming opening line?”

  She couldn’t stop her smile. “Needs some polish, Bristol.”

  “Is it hard for you to call me that?”

  “Not at all. I keep telling myself it should be. But in reality you’re still the man I knew, and then, you’re not at all.”

  “What other man?” Jake reached on his tippy-toes to place an antique mason jar on the counter, next to the platters of food.

  “That happens to have been my name once. Here, let’s put the flowers on the table, away from the food. Unless you want them somewhere else?” Rob’s smooth reply and the need to please his son was stamped so deeply on his expression that Trina felt a corner of her heart melt in one smooth plop.

  “That’s fine, or rather, how about on the plant shelves, over there by the window? The kitchen table’s pretty small when we all sit at it.”

  “Got it.” Rob filled the jar with water, his forearm brushing hers in the most erotic kitchen foreplay imaginable. Trina focused on getting the salad finished. She and Rob had to establish a solid friendship again, for Jake’s sake. Her hormones needed to take a back seat. She let out a breath of relief when he moved across the room and placed the jar on the shelf, followed by the bouquet.

  It’s not just your hormones.

  “What can I do?” Rob was back at her side, looking over the plate of uncooked hamburgers.

  “Go ahead and fire up the grill if you’d like, and let me know when you want the hot dogs.”

  “I want my bun toasty!” Jake tugged at Rob’s dark blue T-shirt, a touching gesture that pulled at Trina’s composure.

  “You’ve got it, buddy.”

  “His name is Jake.”

  “Mom, I like it when Rob calls me ‘buddy.”’

  “Don’t worry, it’s always easier being the new guy.” Rob spoke quietly to her. He knew what she was thinking, that Jake had some serious hero worship going on. Ro
b apparently agreed. Their communication was mostly via eye contact and she remembered that this was why she’d taken so long to move on after she thought he’d died. Their unspoken connection by which they always seemed to understand one another. This had to be why she’d never fully accepted he was gone. Some tiny part of her had kept the flame of hope lit, believing he was still alive. As if she knew.

  “You okay, Trina? You look like you saw a...ghost.”

  “Stop. We can’t tiptoe around each other about this. Yes, it is like I saw a ghost. But you’re not—you’re here.”

  “That I am.” Rob took the plate of hamburgers and the barbecue spatula she’d pulled out of the ceramic pot on the counter where she stored her kitchen utensils. “I’ll have these done in no time. Want to help me, bud—Jake?”

  “Yeah!”

  “Take Renegade with you. Use his leash!”

  “Come here, Renegade.” Jake easily cajoled the puppy into the tiny harness. Trina shook her head as she washed the salad ingredients. That dang dog had made her run all over the house, chasing him, before she’d been able to leash him after work.

  Jake chattered to Rob as they went out back, the screen door slamming against the weathered doorframe. There were plenty of upgrades Trina needed to have done in the old farmhouse, but a sliding glass door for the backyard and a walkout deck topped her list. The surrounding farm fields and rolling mountains were too beautiful to not make the most of the view.

  “Here you go.” She joined them outside, carrying the hot dogs and buns.

  “Perfect timing. We do work well together, Marshal Lopez.” She ignored Rob’s banter and looked around for Jake, who was on an old tire swing that hung from the humongous oak next to the house. Renegade sat on the porch and watched him, his leash fastened to a patio chair.

  “You always have to know where he is, don’t you?” Rob flipped a burger.

  “I’m his mother. It’s called parenting.”

  “Whoa, it wasn’t a criticism. I meant it from a place of appreciation—it’s like you have a built-in radar.”

  She watched him work over the hot grill, and the heat waves rippling between them mirrored her doubt that she’d ever be able to trust Rob fully with Jake. Trust that he would take care of Jake and not harm him; sure, that was a given. But the sense that Rob would disappear again weighed heavy on her heart.

  “Talk to me, Trina.” His eyes slid to the side, and she knew he was watching Jake, too.

  “I want to explain away your intense interest in Jake as part of the surprise of finding out you’ve had a child for the past five years.”

  “But?”

  “I know it’s deeper. You really do seem to care for Jake in that natural bonding way. It’s only been a few days and you have a rapport with him that’s taken me his entire lifetime.”

  “First, I’m the shiny new dude around here. He’s a kid, Trina—he likes to have all the attention on him. Second, this isn’t something that’s going to wear off. Jake is my son, I’m his father.”

  “It’s all been so fast.” She held the plate for Rob as he piled up the burgers. He opened the rolls and placed them on the grill’s highest shelf.

  “You know, for the last three months I’d planned to come here, one day during the week when you were home from work. I thought of calling first—TH can get anyone’s number—but didn’t want to scare you or have you worry about Jake’s safety.”

  “Showing up here would have been a shock, that’s for sure. And you’re right—if you’d called first I would have thought it was some kind of twisted crank call. And I would have wondered from whom, as only my parents and brother know the entire story about the identity of Jake’s father. About you, I mean.”

  “You never told anyone else?”

  “I told people you’d been killed in the war, which on record you had. I wanted Jake to feel loved by both of his parents, even if one was deceased. I knew how painful you said it was for you as a foster kid, thinking that your mom and dad didn’t love you, and I also wanted to honor your memory.”

  “Even though you couldn’t legally claim that I was Jake’s father.”

  “I named you as Jake’s father on his birth certificate. I’m not all about what’s legal or correct in this world, Rob. Sure, I’m in law enforcement, but it’s more important to do what’s right than what’s legal at times. Don’t you agree?”

  “Maybe.” He placed the toasted buns on a separate plate. “Looks like we’re ready here.”

  “Jake, Ren, come on in.” Jake loped up to the back door, the dog’s tail wagging furiously as the boy untied the leash.

  “Honey, put Ren in his crate and then wash your hands before you sit down.”

  As they climbed the three steps on the back stoop into the kitchen, it hit Trina that they would appear like any other regular family to an outsider. Coming in from the grill, ready to eat dinner, a dog at their heels.

  It scared the tater tots right out of her.

  * * *

  Rob stayed quiet throughout dinner, joking with Jake on and off, watching how his son ate everything on his plate and asked for seconds. And the kid didn’t expect dessert—Trina had instilled good nutritional habits, that was clear. But he was over-the-top jubilant about the biscuit raspberry shortcake Trina placed in front of him.

  “Mom and I are going to go blueberry picking this weekend.”

  “Isn’t berry season over?” He wasn’t a farmer or gardener by any means but had seen the signs for local strawberry farms disappear from the main highway, one by one, over the past two weeks.

  “Blueberries are the last to come in. We are a little late this year, too, because of the cold spring.” Trina didn’t meet his eyes, and her back was in that ramrod-straight position that told him she was cranky about something. He wondered if this was going to be the status quo until he proved he was trustworthy. That he wasn’t going to disappear again.

  “Blueberries stain your teeth real bad.” Jake’s exaggeration was so over-the-top that Rob reached over and tweaked his little nose.

  “Is that so?”

  Jake nodded. “Yes. First there are strawberries, then raspberries, then blueberries. But the blueberries grow on little trees. The strawberries and raspberries grow in the ground.”

  “Hmm.” Rob didn’t know what to say, he was having so much fun watching his son—his son—demonstrate his knowledge. Jake was only five years old but appeared and acted two years older, in Rob’s opinion. Was this fatherly pride?

  “Jake, I’m going to be working a lot these next few weeks, so Grandma or Uncle Nolan might have to pick you up from camp. Grandma will stay here if she drives down. I need you to take good care of Renegade if I’m late.”

  “Can’t Rob pick me up from camp?”

  “He’s busy with work, too.”

  Jake nodded, his mouth full of whipped cream and berries. “Okay, Mom.” His tone indicated this was a common conversation.

  “You’re growing up too quickly for your mom.” Trina ruffled his hair, and Rob loved how Jake leaned into it, absorbing her affection. Had his parents ever done that to him, before their addictions killed them? His memories were fuzzy at best, and his younger brother never claimed to have any recollection of life before foster care. He’d been in touch with his brother since coming back from the dead, but he hadn’t told him he was an uncle. Rob made a mental note to rectify that soon.

  “I think I’ll go after we’re through. We have an early start tomorrow.” He meant his words for Trina, but Jake missed nothing.

  “You can’t go, Rob! You have to read me my bedtime story.” Pure happiness burst into thousands of feel-good thrills in his chest. His son wanted him to stay.

  “Jake.” Trina’s voice elicited a side stare from Jake. Rob bit his cheek not to laugh.

  “I’m happy to stay. I thought you’d want me out
of your hair.” Little had scared Rob, at least until a week ago. Now he measured each word he spoke by his desire to not overstep and lose whatever ground he’d gained with Trina on the Jake front.

  You want to gain traction with Trina, too.

  He did, but couldn’t count on it. He didn’t merit her love again. She deserved a man who didn’t walk away.

  “That’s fine, Rob. I already told you, none of this—” she motioned at the table, including all three of them “—is an issue.” She meant his time with Jake. Was he a lesser man because he wanted her to make it clear that what existed between her and him was just as important, if not more so?

  “All done!” Jake pushed his plate away, a king in his castle.

  “To the sink with that, mister.” Trina was tough in the most loving way. Rob couldn’t get enough of it. “Your choice tonight, Jake. Bath or shower?”

  “Shower!” He answered so quickly Rob couldn’t hold back his laugh this time. A reluctant grin lifted Trina’s mouth, and he let his gaze linger there, the way he wanted his lips to.

  “Go shower and come back in your pajamas, please.” Trina looked at Rob. “I have to get the shower going, get the temperature right, for him.” She stood up, taking the remaining plates to the small laminate kitchen counter.

  Rob followed her. “I’ve got this. You take care of our son.” He was behind her at the sink, her nape close enough to kiss.

  He heard her breath suck in and imagined two spots of rosy awareness appearing on her cheeks. His hands had a mind of their own as he stood more fully behind her and massaged her shoulders. This was safer. If he started to kiss her he wouldn’t want to stop. There’d be too many questions from Jake if he found them together like that. It was too soon.