His Ordinary Life

by Linda Winfree

  “Maybe chaos led to Cassie Howard getting killed.” Tick shrugged. “Any idea how she might be connected?”

  “No. She’s a sophomore and they’re seniors. They wouldn’t have any classes together, and they weren’t involved in the same activities. Cassie wasn’t involved in any at all. She wasn’t at school enough.”

  “I gathered that from her school records and the visit with her mother.” Tick grimaced. “Something brought these three kids together. And that same something probably resulted in Cassie’s murder.”

  “You just have no idea what that is.” Del glanced sideways at a nurse hurrying past and lowered his voice. “Or if it’s still a threat to my family.”

  One of Tick’s eyebrows winged upward and a wry grin twisted his mouth. “Trust me, Cookie and I’ll make the connection. We’ll keep a guard posted on Blake. When I get back to the office, I’ll ask Parker and Farr to make a couple extra passes by Barb’s place tonight. Or are you staying at Mama’s again?”

  Del shot a quizzical glance at her. “What do you want to do?”

  For once, she wanted him to make the decisions. He wouldn’t, though. She’d told him he couldn’t make all the rules and he was honoring that. What did she want to do? She wanted to take her home back from the intruders as soon as possible, but she also needed her girls to feel safe. How long would it be before they experienced a sense of security in their own home again?

  She shrugged and looked at Del, hating the helpless feeling. The last thing she desired was to appear weak before him. “I don’t know yet.”

  “That’s fine.” His steady gaze held hers. “We can decide later.”

  “I’d have to clean before the girls could come home.”

  He looked away, coughing into his hand. “I, er, took care of that already. I didn’t think you needed to worry about it.” With a sheepish half-smile, he tilted his head in Tick’s direction. “Chuck helped us. It only took an hour or so. I…you may have to repaint one of the walls. You can’t read the words anymore, but there’s a huge pink stain left.”

  They could paint over it, but it wouldn’t be erased, not really. Those words would always be there. Blake’s scars would always be with them.

  But if he could, the man before her would take them away. He’d take care of them all. She could let him do that. She could lean on him, need him, and still remain strong. In return, she would strengthen him.

  She smiled. “You didn’t have to do that. But thank you.”

  Their gazes met, clung, and a sweet silence stretched between them.

  Tick cleared his throat and slapped Del on the back. “I’m going to head out. I’ll call you after the interviews are over.”

  “Thanks.” As his brother walked away, Del hitched his thumbs in his pockets. The engaging curve of his mouth took her breath. Her stomach fluttered once and dropped, a low ache in the very pit of her belly.

  “I want you back.” The words slipped from her lips. The very rightness of them settled in her and she straightened, meeting his scorching stare. “I’m answering your questions. I love you, and I want you back.”

  He groaned, casting a glance around the hallway. “I can’t believe you’re saying this here, where I can’t do anything about it,” he said with a rueful laugh. He reached for her but dropped his hands. Instead, he took one step closer, not touching her. His gaze burned her. “I love you.”

  Not being able to touch and be touched was excruciating. The heat emanating from him seemed more intense, and she wanted to pull him close and wrap herself around him. She wanted his mouth on hers. She swallowed, hands balled until her nails stung her palms.

  His laugh this time was lower, rougher. He turned his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “God, Barb, you’ve got to quit looking at me like that.”

  The tiny smile died, his gaze sharpening, and she spun. Tick strode toward them, face set in a frustrated scowl.

  “We have a problem,” he said, reaching them.

  “What’s wrong?” Barbara asked, a lump settling in her stomach.

  Tick ran a hand through already disheveled hair. “We can’t find Mason Monroe.”

  Del frowned. “What do you mean, you can’t find him?”

  “Just that. We can’t locate him. Cookie did, however, find Keimond Jones.”

  The heaviness in his voice made the knot in her stomach grow larger.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Del said, giving voice to her fears.

  “It’s not. The kid’s downstairs in the ER with massive head wounds.”

  “Damn it.” Del pounded a fist against his thigh.

  “Yeah. And it doesn’t look good. Anyway, Cookie and I are going out, trying to find the Monroe kid. Parker’s on his way up here. He’s going to stand guard.”

  “The girls,” Barbara whispered. Fighting a wave of panic, she looked at Del. “One of us has to go get the girls.”

  “I’ll go. I want you here.” He tagged Tick on the chest. “Make sure your guy watches over her, too.”

  Barbara backed toward Blake’s door. “I’m going to sit with him.” Protective urges flowed through her. No one would get a second opportunity to touch her child without coming through her first.

  “All right.” Del pulled his keys from his pocket. The public address system dinged, a garbled voice paging Dr. Mackey to the ER. Del’s gaze met hers, dropped to her lips and moved up to her eyes. Her mouth tingled under that brief look. “I’ll get the girls and meet you back here. Then we’ll decide what to do.”

  Tick at his side, he walked away. She watched, both of them moving in a familiar loose-limbed stride. Her throat caught and she took a step forward. “Del?”

  He turned, eyebrows lifted in silent questioning.

  “Be careful.”

  A brief smile curled his mouth and disappeared. “Sure thing. You, too.”

  Clutching the door handle behind her, she watched until he was out of sight.

  *

  I love you, and I want you back.

  The words vibrated in Del’s head, trying to steal his concentration. He rubbed a hand over the steering wheel, unable to keep a small grin off his face. Joy bubbled in his chest, trying, but not quite succeeding, to crowd out the worry. She loved him. Knowing that, he could handle anything else.

  He swung into his mother’s driveway. Pecan trees shaded the long gravel path, a slight breeze sending a handful of loose leaves to the ground. Funny, but he never experienced a real sense of homecoming here, despite having grown up in the big brick house. Here he was always a visitor. Home was Barbara, their children, his everyday, ordinary life—the one Barbara was giving back to him.

  The future opened before him, filled with bittersweet opportunities. This time of year, two years from now, they’d be watching Blake graduate high school, getting ready to send him off to college. He had those two years left. With his daughters, he had a little more time. For Barbara, he had forever.

  He parked behind Tori’s little silver sports car. On the lawn stretching beyond the house to the pond, Chuck’s boys tumbled in a football game revolving around a set of ever-changing rules. He grinned. How often had he and Tick roundly stomped Will and Chuck in the same kind of contest?

  Even Will’s memory didn’t prick and stab this afternoon. Instead a warm reminiscence wrapped around him as he took the side steps two at a time and entered the house. The zesty aromas of dill, cloves and garlic enveloped him, leading him to the large, bright kitchen. Sparkling jars of pickles cooled on wire racks; Tori, his mother and sister-in-law Deanne relaxed around the table with tall glasses of iced tea.

  His mama’s eyes brightened at his appearance. She half-rose from her chair, but he waved her back and leaned over to kiss her. “Hey, Mama,” he murmured against her cheek, her skin thin as crepe paper beneath his lips. The soft rosy scent of her lotion tickled his nose and, coupled with her hugging his neck with maternal strength, made him feel like a boy again.

  She pulled back, touching his
face, her blue eyes soft. “How’s Blake?”

  “He’s tired. Hurting a little.” And growing up too fast. He’d watched his son take a huge leap toward manhood earlier, struggling to do the right thing. His world still felt a little tilted, off its axis. Not too much longer, and the boy would be a man, wouldn’t need him at all.

  Deanne moved to the counter and pulled a glass from the cabinet. “Do you want some tea?”

  “That would be great.” Out of sheer brotherly spite, he ruffled the end of Tori’s ponytail. She swatted at his hand before elbowing him in the gut. “Where are the girls?”

  Tori straightened her hair. “Down by the pond.”

  Deanne handed him the glass and he smiled. “Thanks.”

  Sipping the ultra-sweet brew, he moved to the window over the sink. The dock was empty, the pond stretching to the stand of pines on the border of his mother’s land. Afternoon sun sparkled off the rippled surface.

  “I don’t see them.” Unease poked at his gut, but he forced himself to maintain a casual air. “I’m going to see if I can find them.”

  He set the glass down, ice tinkling. When he opened the back door, his nephews were crowding up the steps and he waded through a sea of excited hugs. With the boys inside, silence descended on the yard, broken only by the occasional snatch of a birdsong.

  His feet sank into the thick grass. The padded swing beneath the oak tree sat empty, as did the Adirondack chairs on the dock. Knots formed in his stomach. “Anna? Lys?”

  In the warm air, his voice echoed back at him.

  “Ki-yah!” The yell echoed from the pond bank, the part hidden by a long stretch of privet hedge. The knots loosened, but his heart still pounded an erratic thud against his ribs.

  He rounded the bushes and found both girls on the grassy area above the water. On a flamingo-pink beach towel, Lyssa relaxed, eyes closed. He frowned. Barbara wouldn’t let her wear eyeliner, but permitted a string bikini that brief? And when had she developed hips and a bust? The world tilted a little further.

  Clad in a tank top and board shorts, Anna moved through one of her karate forms. She smiled at him, throwing a perfect roundhouse. “Hey, Daddy.”

  “Hey, Anna Nana.” He settled on the grass next to Lyssa, arms in a loose hold around his knees. Anna moved one arm to the side and performed a side kick, biting her lip in concentration.

  Lyssa opened one eye to peer up at him. “Where’s Mama? Is Blake okay?”

  “At the hospital. He’s fine. Does your mama know about that swimsuit?”

  Eyes closed again, she giggled. “Yes, but I can only wear it at home, for laying out.”

  That was good to know. Who had told him raising girls would be easier than boys? Whoever it was had been crazy, that was sure. “You know that’s bad for your skin. Causes skin cancer and wrinkles and everything.”

  She tossed a bright orange bottle at him. “Sunscreen.”

  He dropped it between them and lifted his gaze to watch Anna finish her form. She bowed, her face solemn, and dropped to the grass in front of him. Her bare toes wiggled, glittery blue nail polish winking in the sun.

  A shy grin lifted the corners of her lips and she ducked her head, fingers tearing at the thick grass. “I’m glad you were with us last night.”

  “Me, too.”

  She brushed her hair back, the gesture reminiscent of Barbara and her constant bangs-smoothing. He smiled. Still playing with the grass, she darted a glance at him. “I had a bad dream last night. I was going to get into bed with Mama.”

  His heart jerked, skidded to a stop. Oh, hell.

  Lyssa levered up on an elbow. “Did you stay all night?”

  And he’d thought having Tick see his hickey had been bad. He cleared his throat, his vocal cords refusing to work. “I…no. She was upset about the breakin, and I just…we were talking, and both of us fell asleep. I woke up a while later and went back to my room. You two were sleeping.”

  A gleeful look passed between his daughters, and he sighed. Oh, yeah, he and Barbara were doing a brilliant job of keeping their new involvement to themselves. Maybe they should just take out a full-page ad in the Daily Herald. They couldn’t even keep a secret from their teenagers.

  “So are you coming home?” Lyssa asked, her bluntness reminding him of Tori.

  If he answered that question the wrong way, Barbara would kill him. He fixed both of them with the sternest look he could muster under the circumstances. “Your mama and I will talk to y’all when we’re ready. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Lyssa nudged Anna’s knee and gave her an I-told-you-so look.

  “Listen.” He leaned forward. “I need to ask you some questions.” They looked at him, their faces open and expectant. “Do either of you know a kid named Mason Monroe?”

  Anna’s face closed, her shoulders hunched. His stomach dropped. She watched him, her eyes wary. “He’s one of Mama’s students. Why?”

  “I mean outside of school, do you know him?”

  Another look passed between the girls and Anna nodded. “Yes, sir. He was in my dojo. We took the advanced class together.”

  “Was?”

  She nodded again. “Sensei John kicked him out because of his attitude.”

  He watched her, choosing his words with care. “You sound like you didn’t mind that.”

  Her shoulders moved in a tiny, tight shrug. “I didn’t like him. He was always hanging around, wanting to talk to me, and he got mad when I beat him in sparring. Once, I was the last one out of the dressing room, and he was waiting for me. He pushed me against the wall and tried to…he tried to touch me.” She gestured at her torso. “I kicked him.”

  Son of a bitch. Fury curdled in his gut, a churning nausea moving into his throat. The little SOB had better hope Tick found him first, because when he got his hands on him, Del planned to take him apart piece by piece.

  Aware she was watching him, he smothered the anger and kept his voice even. “Anna, did you tell anyone, baby? Mama or your sensei?”

  Her head moved in a little negative shake. “After I kicked him, he called me an ugly name and I was going to yell for Sensei, but that’s when Mr. Brian came out of the boys’ dressing room, and he took him outside and talked to him. And Sensei kicked him out not long after that. He called the house once or twice, but I wouldn’t talk to him. Blake told him to leave me alone, and then Mason started going with Lisa Jones and he stopped calling.”

  Sitting upright now, Lyssa shifted nearer to her sister. “Daddy, did Mason hurt Blake?”

  Del nodded and Anna’s face crumpled. “Because of me?”

  “No, baby, not because of you.” He reached for her, tugging her close. She huddled on his lap, sobs shaking her slight frame. Lyssa nudged closer, and he wrapped an arm around her, too, holding them as he’d done when they’d been small. He buried his face against Anna’s hair, the scent of strawberries and sunscreen mingling with sun-warmed grass and the pungent pond water. His eyes burned. “It’s not your fault.”

  He stroked their smooth hair until Anna’s sobs lessened. He glanced down and found their hands entwined. A cramp attacked his leg, but he wouldn’t have moved for the world.

  With his thumb, he caught a stray tear on Anna’s cheek. “Anna, you said Mr. Brian came out of the boys’ dressing room. Brian Rawlings?”

  She nodded, sniffling. He shifted, taking his arm from around Lyssa to pull his handkerchief from his pocket and hand it to her. Lyssa moved to sit on her towel again, her gaze never leaving her twin. Anna blew her nose, her head brushing Del’s chin.

  “Why was he there?”

  Her damp eyes dark with confusion, she shrugged. “He takes the adult class after mine. He’s always around. Sometimes he’d come early and talk to Mama if she was there. Or he’d grade papers while he waited for his class to start.”

  He tucked her hair behind her ear. “And Mason was seeing Lisa Jones? Is she related to Keimond Jones?”

  “She’s his little sister,” Lyssa said. She tugged
a white T-shirt over her head and looped her arms around her knees. “She’s our age and Mason’s a senior.” Her disgusted huff moved strands of her hair from her forehead. “He was only out for one thing, that’s for sure.”

  “And that would be what?” Del lifted an eyebrow at her. And how did she know, anyway?

  “Sex.” Lyssa rolled her eyes. “Daddy, we’re thirteen. Mama started talking to us about it when we were ten.”

  Uneasy, he narrowed his eyes. “Just what did she tell you?”

  “Other than the mechanical stuff we got in health?” Lyssa made a face, as if the idea was too gross to contemplate. “That we’d better wait until we were married, but if we didn’t, then we had to be careful. She said it was hard for y’all, being so young and all, and that people talked and she didn’t want that for any of us.”

  His cheekbones burned and his throat ached. He couldn’t have asked for a better mother for his children. “All right, so Mason was seeing Keimond’s sister. Keimond have a problem with that?”

  The girls glanced at each other and shrugged. “We don’t know,” Lyssa said, “but he doesn’t usually care what she does. Their mama works two jobs, and as long as Lisa isn’t in his way, Keimond’s okay.”

  “Keimond works, too.” Anna shifted to sit on the grass and stretched her legs out before her. She took a deep, shuddery breath, her voice still hoarse from crying. “Ever since their daddy died. He does people’s yards and paints houses with his uncle.”

  If there was more of a connection than Mason’s dating Keimond’s sister, Del didn’t see it. He looked between his daughters. “Either of you know Cassie Howard?”

  “Not really.” Lyssa rested her chin on her knees. Behind her a duck squawked and lifted off from the pond. Little boy voices carried from the other side of the hedges. “Back when we were younger, she used to do gymnastics with me, but she dropped out a long time ago. Blake had a crush on her, but that was a couple years ago.”

  “Mama taught her last semester.” Anna sifted a handful of shredded grass through her fingers. “She said Cassie was a real good writer, but Cassie hardly ever comes to school.”