His Ordinary Life

by Linda Winfree

  She nodded, wanting to give in to the urge to kiss that dimple, to have his mouth on hers again. “I tried to get him to confide in me.”

  His thumb brushed her kneecap. “Any luck?”

  “None.”

  “I’m going to let the girls come in.”

  As he went to the door, she rose, making an unsuccessful attempt to smooth the wrinkles from her clothes. Subdued and holding hands, the girls crept into the room. They looked at their brother, and over their dark heads, Del smiled at Barbara. The simple, genuine expression clogged her throat. That sweet curve of his mouth was as good as an “I love you”.

  He’d said the words earlier and she’d thrilled to them. Beneath the pleasure, though, uncertainty lingered. Everything seemed so unstable, moving too quickly. He remained adamant about wanting a new start, but could either of them really know what they wanted? Okay, she wanted him. She could admit that. Not just sexually, either. She wanted his companionship, the security he’d always represented, the joy of his arms around her, of knowing they belonged together.

  But she wanted the life she’d started making without him, too. The career, the friends, the independence. If he wanted to walk right back into the relationship he’d left, she didn’t think she could do that.

  She wanted more. She wanted everything. True sharing, a deep partnership, things she was beginning to see they’d lacked the first time around.

  “Barb?” He looked at her, one eyebrow lifted in a quizzical expression.

  Pulled from her thoughts, she shook off the melancholy. With quiet squeals of delight, the girls crowded the side of the bed. Lyssa bounced on her toes, joy lighting her face.

  Anna glanced at Barbara. “Is it all right to touch him?”

  Barbara nodded. “Gently.”

  Leaning down, Anna tapped his shoulder. “Blake?”

  He opened his eyes. His teeth flashed in a weak grin. “Hey.”

  Lyssa rested her arms on the bed railing and looked at him, her eyes sparkling. “You’ll do anything to get out of chores, huh?”

  “Thought I’d leave ’em for you,” Blake said with an affectionate chuckle. Grimacing, he placed a hand over his chest.

  Anna stroked his shoulder. “How bad does it hurt?”

  “Bad enough.”

  The love and concern between them tightened Barbara’s throat. Tears blurred her vision and she blinked them away. Del’s hands squeezed her arms in a quick caress.

  “They’re great kids,” he said close to her ear. “You’ve done a fantastic job, Barb.”

  Regret roughened his voice and she glanced at him over her shoulder. He’d retreated a couple of steps, hands in his pockets.

  She shrugged. “I didn’t do it alone.”

  “Just most of it.” He shook his head. “I was gone so much, working so much, when they were little. I missed more than I thought.”

  “You were taking care of us.” She eyed the children, keeping her voice deliberately low. “You did what you had to do.”

  “It would be different now. If you took me back.”

  Nerves fluttering, she looked toward Blake’s bed, where he and the girls exchanged good-natured insults. “Not here, Del. Not now.”

  “I know.” He tucked his hands in his back pockets. “I keep saying all the wrong things at the all the wrong times, don’t I? I never had the best timing.”

  She shook her head. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

  He tilted his chin in Blake’s direction. “He’s getting tired. I’m going to take the girls and head home.”

  Home. A simple enough word, but his reference to the house as home sent a frisson of joy through her. Oh, being with him made it so hard to keep her resolve to be sensible and take her time. He uttered the word “home” and her mind conjured images of him there, tackling that honey-do list he’d mentioned, dozing on the couch during the Georgia-Florida game, leaving his shoes by the door, holding her at night.

  Pushing the dreams away, she nodded and wrapped her arms around her waist so she wouldn’t reach for him. “Okay. I’ll, um, I’ll call you if anything—”

  “Nothing’s going to happen,” he said, gazing over her shoulder. Affection lightened his eyes. “Look at them.”

  She did, the lump rising in her throat again. Lyssa and Anna hugged their brother, ignoring his half-hearted protests. Del chuckled. “All right, girls, let’s go. Your brother needs to rest.”

  As Anna and Lyssa kissed Barbara goodbye, he leaned over Blake. “Night, son. Get some rest.”

  “Night, Daddy.”

  The girls wandered into the hall. Del pulled his keys from his pocket. “Try to get some sleep.”

  Barbara nodded, wishing they were alone for just a moment, wanting to touch him. “You, too.”

  He darted a glance at Blake and brushed his hand across her cheek. “Good night.”

  Long after he’d slipped out the door, her skin tingled with the lingering warmth of his touch.

  *

  His ears assaulted by a too-loud Green Day tune, Del pulled the SUV into the driveway. Light spilled from the living room windows in golden swathes on the front porch and lawn. His daughters tumbled from the Explorer, but he sat a moment, staring at the house. He was pushing too hard. Telling Barbara he loved her, nearly begging her to take him back. She had a right to her reservations, but he was so afraid of losing her again. What he needed to do was slow down, give her the space he sensed she needed. Wait until this was all over.

  Lyssa swung the passenger door open. “Daddy? You have the key.”

  He laughed, flushing at her odd look. “Yeah, I do, don’t I?”

  She met him at the front of the truck, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, hugging her close. “Make you feel any better to see him?”

  “Mm-hm.” She nodded. “He looks awful, though. Worse than Uncle Chuck after his back surgery.”

  Probably because he hadn’t allowed the kids to see his younger brother until days after his operation, but he kept that observation to himself. At the back door, where Anna waited for them, he dropped his arm and turned the key in the lock.

  “Daddy?”

  “Yeah, sugar?”

  “Uncle Tick’s gonna find whoever hurt Blake, right?” Fear tinged Lyssa’s small voice.

  “Of course he is.” He swung the door inward. Dropping his keys on the island, he gave his daughters what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Hungry?”

  Anna shook her head. “I’m going to watch Most Wanted Live.”

  “Do I have time to call Lauren before phone curfew?” Lyssa reached for his wrist, twisting his arm up to read his watch.

  “Yeah, I think so.” The appeal of staying on the phone for hours was beyond him. Contacting clients kept him there enough.

  The girls disappeared down the hall. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a soda. A small icy spray splashed over his fingertips when he popped the top, the sweet liquid so cold it stung his throat on the first swallow.

  “Daddy!”

  Anna’s terrified voice reverberated down the hall. Del choked, the can hitting the floor, soda splashing the white cabinetry.

  He ran. Adrenaline drove his pulse to a mad rate. In the hall, the girls launched themselves at him, Lyssa clinging to his waist and Anna clutching his arm. Their voices verging on hysterical, they babbled over one another.

  “Our room—”

  “On the bed—”

  “And the wall!”

  “What? What is it?” He cupped their heads in his hands, holding them close, trying to calm them.

  Anna gulped in air, her eyes wide, dark pools of panic in her pale face. “Someone’s been in our room.”

  Chapter Twelve

  A pure primal rage burned in Del’s chest. He leaned against the wall outside his daughters’ room and watched Tick and Chandler County’s second investigator Mark Cook work the crime scene. Crime scene. Some rotten son of a bitch had turned his babies’ room into a freaking crime scene. Ha
d broken into their home, gone into their room.

  He stared at the filthy phrases scrawled on the walls. Threats. Obscene sexual statements directed at his little girls. Condom packets scattered on the beds. A used condom lying near Anna’s pillow. The message chilled his blood, the ice and fire warring within him, making him hot, cold and nauseous all at the same time.

  They’d seen everything, and fear had driven the innocence from their dark eyes. More than his house had been violated. He wanted nothing more than to kill the unknown perpetrator, to wrap his hands around the SOB’s throat and squeeze until…

  Sweat broke on his upper lip and he brushed it away. What was he thinking? If Tick was right, whoever had done this, had attacked Blake, was just a kid, too. Probably Blake’s age. Someone else’s child. His gaze drifted back to the words written in two-foot letters, bright red against the white paint. But how could a kid do something like this, any of this? He couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

  “You okay?” Tick stepped into the hallway, hands covered by thin latex gloves.

  Del glared. “What do you think?”

  Tick darted a glance at the room behind them. “I think you’ve got a right to be pissed off.”

  “They’ve threatened my family. They almost killed my son.” Del had to push the words between teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached. “Pissed off doesn’t begin to cover it.”

  “I’ll get them. I promise you.”

  “I should have been expecting something.” Del rubbed both hands down the front of his jeans. “I should have checked the house before I let the girls back here.”

  “Take it from me, brother. The what-ifs and should-haves will drive you crazy if you let them.”

  Del looked past his brother. Inside the bedroom, Mark Cook was still involved in the painstaking process of dusting for fingerprints. “Shouldn’t you call the crime scene crew from Moultrie?”

  “Don’t trust me?” Tick lifted an eyebrow then shook his head. “It’s not a homicide. Believe me, Cookie and I can handle a simple B and E.”

  “A simple B and E?” Del waved a hand at the pile of condoms spilling off Anna’s bed. “It’s a little more than a freakin’ breaking and entering. Some sick bastard left a used condom on my daughter’s bed.”

  “A stupid sick bastard.” Cookie joined them, holding aloft an evidence bag. “Don’t people watch those true crime shows?”

  “Any luck,” Tick said, “and it’ll match the DNA we got from under Blake’s fingernails.”

  “You wouldn’t believe the number of prints in there.” Cookie shook his head. “It’ll take forever to run the elimination prints.”

  “They’re teenage girls. They have a ton of friends over.” Tick reached for the evidence bag. “Do me a favor, would you? Go check on Troy Lee. It makes me nervous to leave him alone on scene.”

  Del crossed his arms over his chest. He wouldn’t allow himself to give in to the overwhelming desire to punch the nearest wall. His heart continued to thud in an irregular rhythm, pulsing in his ears.

  Tick glanced at him. “I’ll get them, Del,” he repeated, a simmering fury under the words. “I swear.”

  Narrowing his eyes, Del stared at the words again. “My girls won’t be able to walk in their own room again without seeing those words. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. Think Blake will talk to me now?”

  “I’m not telling him about this.” Del shook his head. “He’s terrified already and you want me to tell him this?”

  “And if you don’t tell him and he finds out anyway? Think he’d ever trust you again?”

  Groaning, Del dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what to do. I want them safe, Tick. I just want to keep them all safe.”

  “Hey, Tick.” Cookie appeared from the direction of the kitchen. “Look what was on the counter.” He held a thick book aloft. “Your nephew’s yearbook.”

  “I left it there before I took the girls to the hospital,” Del said. Tick’s attention shifted to him and Del shrugged. “The other day, when I picked Blake up at school, there were two boys in the hall with him. I thought I’d look for them in there.”

  Evidence bag tucked under his arm, Tick flipped open his notebook. “What day was this?”

  “Tuesday.”

  “How many?”

  “Two.”

  “What do you remember about them? Tall, short?”

  Eyes closed, Del tried to pull up the picture as he’d seen it. “Taller than Blake. Dark hair. Longish, like Blake’s.”

  Tick scribbled a note. “What about clothes?”

  Del concentrated harder. “Jeans. T-shirts? Hell, I don’t remember.”

  “You think you could pick them out in the yearbook?” Cookie asked.

  Frustration snarled along Del’s nerves and he met Tick’s steady gaze. “I don’t know. I just…I’ll try.”

  “Hey, quit beating yourself up. It might be a lead.” Tick tapped his pen on the pad. “What were they doing when you saw them?”

  Del shook his head. “Just standing at his locker.”

  “Talking? Joking around?” Tick lifted an eyebrow in inquiry. “Come on, Del, give me something to go on.”

  His eyes slid closed again as he tried to capture the memory in sharper detail. “They were flanking him. Talking to him. Blake didn’t look comfortable with them, almost like he felt cornered.”

  “What was Blake doing?”

  “Getting his stuff out of his locker.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Yeah, they didn’t touch him or anything. I called him, he grabbed his things and we left.” With a rough sigh, Del dragged a hand over his face. “It’s not much, is it?”

  Tick shrugged and stuck the notebook in his pocket. “You never know. Sometimes the smallest things give us a new place to start. You have to run down every lead, no matter how insignificant it seems.”

  “Del?” Barbara’s panicked voice sounded from the kitchen. Del jerked upright, placing himself between her and the girls’ door as she entered the hallway. She stopped, staring at the bag in Tick’s hand. “What is that?”

  Tick grimaced. “A condom.”

  Horror slid over her delicate features. “What is going on?” Her voice trembled. “Chuck shows up with one of your deputies and says someone broke into the house…and where was that?” She pointed at the bagged condom.

  Del stepped forward. “Honey, come on. Let’s go in the kitchen, and I’ll tell you what’s going on—”

  “The girls’ room? Was it in their room?” She shook her head and stepped back, hands held up to ward him off. “Where are they?”

  “Baby—”

  “Where are my daughters?”

  He took her shoulders in a gentle hold. “Across the street with your neighbors. Tori’s there with them.”

  “Tori?” The shaky note in her voice worsened. “Why—”

  “It’s not what you think.” Del squeezed in an attempt to reassure her. “The girls are fine. No one touched them.”

  “They were pretty upset and I needed Del here,” Tick said, his tone low and kind. “I call her in on these types of things pretty often, where I have children who might need to talk out what’s going on.”

  “What is going on?” Tears swimming in her eyes, she crumpled, suddenly clutching at Del. He wrapped her in a close embrace, rocking her against him in a soothing motion. Her voice caught on a sob. “Del, why is this happening? When is it going to stop?”

  He held her tighter, wanting to absorb her fear and pain, wanting to lose his own in the reality of her in his arms. It took a minute for him to realize she struggled against him, pushing away. He released her and stepped back, watching as she fought for composure. Her chest rose and fell with a deep breath and she closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, her face was pale but calmer.

  She turned to Tick. “Please tell me what happened.”

  “Someone entered the house and v
andalized the girls’ room.”

  “Vandalized?” She gestured at the evidence bag again. “Vandalized how?”

  “They emptied a couple boxes of condoms on the beds,” Del said. “And wrote some things on the wall with lipstick.”

  “What did they write?” Her voice remained steady, but held a note of resignation.

  Tick cleared his throat. “Statements of a sexual nature.”

  “Sexual…” Lashes dipping again, she sighed. “How did they get in?”

  Tick tilted his head toward Blake’s room. “They broke a pane out of Blake’s window, popped the lock and climbed in. Troy Lee is casting the footprints now. I need you to walk through both rooms with me, tell me if anything’s missing, if there’s something that shouldn’t be there.”

  Del tensed, not wanting her to see the filth scribbled on the wall. He opened his mouth and shut it. They needed as much information as possible and he couldn’t tell Tick what his brother needed to know. The Barbara he’d always known would have looked to him to handle this horror. The Barbara in front of him squared her shoulders and walked to the door. She paled further, but stepped inside.

  Tick followed, making notes as she pointed out items that seemed out of place. Del stopped in the doorway. Arms wrapped around her waist, Barbara stood in the middle of the room. She appeared calm and controlled, although her voice held an occasional tremor. Beneath his lingering anger, admiration stirred. She could handle this without him. What place could he take in her new life? She’d moved beyond him, didn’t need his protection. The realization was disconcerting and liberating all at the same time. They could be partners, real partners, not protector and protected in every situation. But would she offer him that opportunity? He rubbed a hand down his thigh. They were different people now. Any future would involve learning to be together all over again.

  “How much do Anna and Lyssa interact with Blake’s friends?” Tick didn’t look up from his notebook.

  Barbara shrugged. “It depends on who it is. Jamie’s over here all the time, so they know him well. There are other kids in and out of the house on a regular basis.”

  “Why do you ask?” Del started to lean against the doorjamb, observed the grayish powder marring the creamy paint and straightened.