by Ana Barrons
That was months before Steve’s death, and he’d had no business being pleased.
“It’s better if she does,” Alison said. “She gets tired easily. But you know Kate—she does what she wants. I just got her to go up for a nap, but I knew she’d want to see Jeremy.”
“How long are you staying?” Gabe asked.
“A few days. Until Kate can do things on her own, like wash her hair. She doesn’t like to be dependent on anybody.”
Gabe smiled at that, earning him a puzzled frown from Alison.
“I have to say,” she began after a moment. “I’m grateful that you found Kate and helped her. I am. But you know, for the past eight years you’ve treated my sister like a stranger. At best. What’s with this old friend stuff all of a sudden?”
“Maybe I’ve seen the error of my ways.”
“Uh-huh. Or maybe it’s that you have an in with the number one suspect in the plane explosion.”
Gabe held up both palms to stop her from getting wound up, and to lessen the risk of him losing his temper. “She’s the media’s choice for number one suspect. Not the cops’. Not the FBI’s. And not mine. You want to tell me off, fine, but what do you say we wait until I solve the assault case?”
A burst of laughter from Jeremy distracted Alison, but then she turned back to Gabe. “You know, Ben and Joy and I were the ones who were there for her when Steve died,” she said. “We saw her grief. That was no act. And neither is her grief over Drew. Even though, admittedly, it doesn’t run as deep.”
Gabe ran a hand over his face. They were getting into acutely uncomfortable territory. “I’m not here to measure her grief, Alison.”
She moved a step closer and tilted her head back to meet his gaze. “After Steve died, I also saw how she cried over you, over the way you shut her out. I think the reason she drew into herself had more to do with—”
“Alison?”
Gabe and Alison both looked up at Kate’s voice from the second floor balcony. Alison moved quickly to the stairs, but Kate’s gaze was trained on Gabe. Even from a distance, he could see the purplish bruising on her cheeks, the slight glaze in her eyes. Wearing only loose boxers and a tank top, and with her bandaged arm in a sling, she looked thinner, more fragile. Her long, dark hair was messy, her lips rosier than usual, as though she were feverish. There were scabs and bruises on her legs. She looked sick and hurt and vulnerable and he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and hold her. Why she had this effect on him he simply didn’t know, but he was beyond trying to deny it.
“What are you doing out of bed?” Alison asked, as though she were speaking to a child. Gabe remembered Steve saying that Alison’s “mothering” grated on him and Kate so much they didn’t like to tell her when anything was wrong because her first instinct was to take over. The good news was it probably meant Alison would sense Kate’s annoyance and leave sooner rather than later. In spite of her shortcomings, Alison was intensely loyal, and intuitive as hell. As their short but direct conversation had proven.
“It’s okay,” Kate said. “Do you know if we have the stuff to make macaroni and cheese for Jeremy?”
Gabe moved to the foot of the stairs. From there he could see the death grip Kate had on the banister overlooking the foyer. He started to climb, moving slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “Jeez, he’s hungry again? We had breakfast half an hour ago.”
Kate stepped to the side, putting more distance between them. As though she had eyes in the back of her head, Alison moved to block Gabe from continuing his climb. “I’ll check,” she said to Kate. “But I’m pretty sure we do. If not, I’ll pick up whatever we need.”
“Don’t you have a housekeeper to do that?” Gabe asked.
Alison turned to him, eyes narrowed. “I think we both know she can’t afford one anymore. And since she won’t be entertaining any time soon, and she has a cleaning lady and me here to help out, why—”
“Alison,” Kate said sharply, glancing toward the bedroom where Jeremy was apparently flipping through channels.
“He can’t hear me,” Alison said.
“Not now, okay?” She took a deep breath and said to Gabe, “Can you leave Jeremy here for the afternoon?”
Her dismissal stung, even though he deserved it. “His mother wants him home at noon. I only brought him by for a short visit. And I was hoping I could ask you a few more questions.”
“So you are here on police business,” Alison said.
“Oh. Right,” Kate said. “I guess we can do that now.”
“But you’re supposed to be resting,” Alison said.
“Give me a minute to get dressed.”
“Don’t do it on my account,” Gabe said.
Alison shot him a look, then said to Kate, “You can’t even zip your jeans with one hand.”
“I won’t put on jeans.”
Alison brushed by him and stalked down the steps headed for the kitchen. Gabe took a step up, then another, watching Kate’s throat work. She flushed. Before he reached the top of the stairs she’d nipped into the room next to the master bedroom, grabbed some clothes off a chair and gone into the bathroom.
Jeremy lay back on several large pillows, sneakers on the puffy ice blue comforter, pointing the remote at a huge TV screen. Kate obviously hadn’t bugged him about taking off his shoes—no doubt one of many reasons he loved spending time with her. Gabe sat on the edge of the bed to wait, absurdly relieved this wasn’t the bed Kate had shared with her late husband—the one he had placed her bloody, beaten body on four days ago.
She came in about five minutes later wearing white drawstring pants and a man’s white dress shirt that hung to midthigh, draped over her shoulders, long sleeves hanging. Jeremy spotted her. “Aunt Kate? Can we plug in the game cube in here?”
Her smile was warm. “If you can do it yourself. Miss Gimpo can’t hook anything up right now.”
“My dad knows how.”
Kate held on to her smile but when she turned to Gabe it didn’t reach her eyes. “Okay, great.”
“Your mom wants you home in an hour,” Gabe said to Jeremy.
Jeremy’s face fell and he flopped his arm onto the bed. “Can’t you call her and tell her Aunt Kate really, really wants me to stay and keep her company?”
“Are you supposed to be doing something special with her today?” Kate asked.
“No. She’s pissed at my dad for not dropping me off before we came here that night the guy hurt you.”
Gabe got to his feet when the blood drained from Kate’s face. He reached out to wrap an arm around her, but she flinched away before he could touch her. “Kate—”
“I don’t... I, um...” she stuttered, obviously shaken, whether by the memory of the attack or by Gabe’s nearness he wasn’t sure. To Jeremy she said, “I don’t want to get your mom upset.”
“But you want me to stay and keep you company, right?”
Her smile was back. “I always want that, Dopey.”
Jeremy grinned hugely. “Miss Gimpo.”
She was still too pale, and Gabe took her arm and led her back to the bed. She pulled away as soon as she reached it, as though his touch burned her. When she was settled onto the pillows beside Jeremy, Gabe said, “The questions can wait. Just relax and I’ll get you some tea. Do you still drink it with honey and milk?”
Jeremy dropped the remote and bounded off the bed. “I’ll make her tea! I know exactly how she likes it. Right, Aunt Kate?”
“Oh, yeah. You make the best tea I’ve ever had.”
“In your whole life?”
She laid her hand over her heart. “In my whole pitiful, gimpy existence.”
Jeremy laughed, a spontaneous, bubbly sound full of innocence and delight and love that raised a lump in Gabe’s throat. Then he raced from the room, leaving Gabe alone with Kate. He sat down on the edge of the bed about three feet from her, staring at the doorway Jeremy had just flown through.
“Still icing those bruises?” he asked<
br />
“Yeah, when I remember.”
“He really loves you,” he said. After a few seconds he glanced at Kate, who was staring down at her lap. “And it’s obvious that you love him.”
She nodded slowly. “He’s the best.”
Gabe found it hard to speak. “Even though he’s my son, and I’ve been a bastard to you for so long, you can still love him that much?”
She took a deep breath that looked painful and turned to him. The expression in her eyes spoke of love and hurt and confusion, and the lump in Gabe’s throat grew. She said nothing, letting her eyes say it all.
“You—” He caught himself and bit back the words. You would make a great mother, Kate. He shook his head.
As though she’d read his mind, she closed her eyes and turned away.
* * *
Gabe’s phone conversation with Lindsay was more contentious than he’d expected. Not only was she furious that he had brought Jeremy to “that house” where a crime had been committed, he had “set her up” to look like the bad guy by pulling Jeremy away from Kate. Gabe made a crack about Lindsay worrying that she wouldn’t get any more money out of Kate—never mentioning that the money appeared to be gone, since that little tidbit was not for public consumption—and Lindsay demanded he get Jeremy home no later than noon or she’d take him to court.
Fat fucking chance.
Jeremy had tears in his eyes when he said goodbye. Kate stroked his face and kissed his forehead with a sad smile that reminded Gabe of how he felt when he dropped Jeremy off at Lindsay’s. Gabe watched the glide of her fingers over the boy’s skin, the familiar way she cradled his head and held him to her, and wished it were his skin and his head, his arms wrapped around her slim waist.
“I’m going to call your mom and see when I can get you over here for a real visit,” Kate promised.
“I’m planning to take some time off to spend with Jeremy before he goes back to school,” Gabe said without realizing until that moment that he was actually going to do it. He met Kate’s wary gaze.
Jeremy’s face lit up. “Really, Dad? So maybe we could do stuff together, the three of us?” He raised his face to Kate. “Wouldn’t that be cool?”
Kate didn’t even glance at Gabe. “Of course it would,” she said carefully. “But I’m sure your dad wants to spend time just the two of you.”
“I’m in charge of this case,” Gabe said. “So I can’t leave the city.”
“That’s okay,” Jeremy said quickly. “We could come over here and go swimming and play video games and pool and air hockey. This place has all kinds of cool stuff in it.”
Both Kate and Gabe chuckled at his enthusiasm. “Maybe your dad could drop you off when he’s busy,” she said.
“But he could come over, too, right?”
Kate wet her lips, a nervous habit Gabe remembered. And one that had always turned him on. Kind of like her breathing, and her walking, and sitting and, God help him, her laughing.
“Sure,” she said. “If he has time.”
“I’ll make time,” Gabe said.
* * *
“What was that all about?” Alison asked when Gabe and Jeremy left.
Kate knew by the challenge in her sister’s tone that any answer she gave would force her to defend Gabe’s presence in her house, and she simply wasn’t up to it. Alison meant well, but she was a master at turning any conversation into a battle. “I think I’m going to take that nap now.”
“Well, it’s about time.”
Kate bit her tongue and reminded herself that being a tyrant was Alison’s way of showing her love.
“Are you actually going to let him hang around here with Jeremy? Isn’t it pretty obvious what he’s up to?”
Kate raised a hand to her forehead and headed toward the stairs. “I’m sure he was only saying that to please Jeremy.”
“He acts like he’s trying to—I don’t know—get in your pants or something.”
Kate pulled in a breath. “For God’s sake, Alison. He hates me.” And yeah, he wanted in her pants, but that desire seemed completely disconnected from his feelings about her.
“Exactly,” Alison said, as though she’d made her point. “So now all the sudden he’s trying to be Mr. Nice Guy? Please. I think he wants to poke around your house and try to find evidence that you were plotting to blow up Drew’s plane.”
Kate plodded up the steps. God, she was so tired. “Well, he can poke around all he wants, because there’s nothing to find.”
Alison followed her up. “Yeah, but cops plant evidence all the time, Kate. I certainly wouldn’t put it past him.”
“He’s an honest cop,” she said, and immediately regretted it.
“Honest? I can’t believe you’re defending him.”
Kate grabbed the banister. “I don’t have the energy to fight with you, Ali, okay? So let’s agree that Gabe’s a prick and not talk about him anymore.” She continued up the steps.
“Oh, so now I’m fighting with you?” Alison said. “I’m here to help you, but I can’t sit around with blinders on when you’re defending the guy who—”
“Stop!” Kate felt herself sway. Her head was pounding and all she wanted to do was lie down right where she was and cry. “Please, just stop.”
Suddenly Alison’s arms were around her, stabilizing her. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry.” The anger was gone from Alison’s voice. “I didn’t mean to get you upset. Come on, let me help you upstairs.”
Kate allowed her sister to help her up the steps and into her room. The bedspread was a wreck from Jeremy playing on it, which brought fresh tears to her eyes. If only her baby had lived, Jeremy would have had a playmate. And she would have had what she wanted more than anything in the world. “Remember the night you drove me to the E.R.?” she said, giving in to the impulse.
Alison pulled back the duvet and Kate lay down on the cool sheet. “How could I forget? That was a terrible night. I still think about it sometimes.”
“Thank you for staying with me that night,” Kate said, squeezing her sister’s hand.
“What made you think of that suddenly?” Alison asked, studying her. Was there a hint of suspicion in her voice?
Kate closed her eyes. “I was just wondering what it would have been like, you know, if the baby had lived.”
The bed sagged next to her hip. “You never told Drew?”
Kate shook her head. “No. I never told anyone. Did you?”
Alison let out a long breath. “I told Jennifer, much later. We were talking about you, and wondering why you and Drew never had kids. But that’s it, I swear.”
Kate nodded. “Okay.”
They were silent so long Kate nearly dozed. Then Alison said, “Kate?” and the question in her tone told Kate it would be safer to feign sleep. Finally she left the room, but Kate could feel her watching, wondering. Alison was nothing if not intuitive.
Maybe she wanted Alison to know, wanted to share the truth of what had happened with someone who would love her anyway. Someone besides Gabe.
Alison’s whisper tingled up her spine. “I get it now, Katie.” Then the door closed, and Kate felt a little less alone.
Chapter Seventeen
At eleven o’clock the following morning Gabe pulled into Kate’s circular driveway and parked behind a blue Volvo wagon with Pennsylvania plates. Alison’s car. He glanced into the backseat as he made his way up the walk to the front door and was surprised to see a suitcase lying there.
He rang the bell once, waited for several seconds, then rang it again. From somewhere inside Bruno was barking his head off, but no one came to the door. He rang again. Still no answer. He lifted the heavy brass knocker just as someone pulled the door open, and found himself face to face with Alison. They stared at each other, and the look in her eyes said she found him seriously lacking. Neither said a word, and Alison didn’t move aside to let him in. So he crossed his arms over his chest and waited.
“All set?” Kate’s voice came from som
ewhere behind Alison, but still, neither moved. Alison was the first to fold.
“Don’t think for a minute that I don’t know what you’re up to,” she said, her voice low and angry. “Kate may have blinders on but I don’t. And if you hurt her, or use her again, or make her the fall guy for something she didn’t do, I swear to God, Gabe, I’ll find a way to make you pay.”
He knew better than to respond directly. “I take it you’re leaving?”
“My husband came down with the flu, and Kate insisted I go take care of him. God forbid anyone should put her first.”
“No one ever has,” he said. Steve hadn’t put Kate first either, something Gabe seemed to have forgotten for the past eight years.
Alison tilted her head to one side and studied him. “No, they sure haven’t.”
“Who’s at the door?” Kate appeared in the foyer, eyes widening when she spotted Gabe. “Oh.”
“I have some questions for you,” he said. “If you’re up to it.”
Kate’s gaze moved back and forth between him and Alison, who still hadn’t moved or taken her eyes off Gabe. “Sure,” she said slowly. “As soon as Ali’s on the road.”
“I’m out of here,” Alison said. She turned and embraced Kate quickly, then pushed past Gabe to her car. Kate’s brow was furrowed as she watched her sister climb into the driver’s seat and pull away without a sideways glance.
“She doesn’t trust me,” Gabe said. Alison’s parting shot had thrown him. “If you use her again.” Kate claimed she hadn’t told Alison about that night. So why did he get the feeling she knew?
Kate stepped aside without looking at him. “Come on in and let’s get this over with.”
Damn it, he didn’t like her blowing him off, even if he did deserve it. “When do you get the stitches out?”
“A few days.”
“Are you in much pain?”