“And after I leave, whenever Robbie’s here, in the back of my mind I’ll be afraid that one day you won’t come home. That he’ll have to go through the pain of losing you.”
She gave a little shrug, then added, “You can’t really know what it’s like to lose a parent. Yours are both still alive. Living in Chicago. It’s mentioned in the report.”
“Uh-huh. But my father had a heart attack last year and at first we were afraid...”
“Well, that would have given you some idea. It’s just awful at any age. And when you’re only a child...”
“Natalie, there are a thousand different ways a child can lose a parent. But...what can I say? Being a detective is what I do.”
“I know. And being a doctor in Guatemala is what I do.”
“No.” He shook his head. “That just isn’t a valid comparison. The risk here, what little risk there is, is to me. Not to Robbie. While he’s there, though—”
“While he’s here,” she interrupted, “he could go to school one day and be shot by a kid in his class. Hank, there are never any guarantees in life. You know that. And I’m not prepared to settle for any less than six months. Not right now.
“When he’s older, after he’s lived in both places...well, if he isn’t happy with the arrangement, then we’ll have to reconsider it. But right now, unless you have a better suggestion...”
“I don’t,” he admitted.
“Then where do we go from here?” she said quietly.
“I guess we have to explain things to him. Tell him you’re his mother and give him a while to get used to that before we do anything else.
“And when we reach the point of him going down there...well, I don’t think you should just take him away with you. Because no matter how hard we try to make him understand everything, he won’t. Not really.
“So I’ll arrange for some time off, and either go down with the two of you or bring him on my own. Either way, I’ll stay a week or so until he gets used to a routine there.”
“That would be very good of you,” she murmured.
“Okay, then,” he made himself say. “We’ll talk to him after I get up tomorrow.”
Natalie began gnawing on her lower lip.
“What?” he said.
“Could we leave it until the evening? Or maybe give it one more day?”
“Sure. But why?”
“I have an appointment with someone tomorrow. At eleven. I can take Robbie with me and we’ll be back before you get up, but it might not be the best time for me to talk to him about this.”
“Oh?”
She clearly didn’t want to give him any more details. He outwaited her.
“I’m going to St. Aidan’s Hospital,” she said at last. “That’s where Emma’s mother is.”
“Oh?” he repeated.
Then he let the silence grow once more, until she added, “There’s a babysitting service for visitors. A supervised playroom. So, as I said, taking Robbie won’t be any problem.”
“And you’re going because...?”
She hesitated again. “Because,” she finally said, “Emma asked me why her mother can’t phone her. And...I promised I’d find out and tell her tomorrow.
“But hospitals have to be careful about the kind of patient information they give out over the phone. I mean, anyone could call claiming to be a doctor and...
“The point is, I want to be sure I know exactly where things stand before I try to...”
She shrugged, then added, “I don’t expect the news will be good. And if I have to tell Emma... Well, I’m probably only up to one emotion-laden explanation a day.”
* * *
LATER THAT NIGHT, they’d waited until almost closing time to check out the Blue Cat.
Once again, Travis had suggested they wear their vests, which was fine with Hank—although it made him decide his partner seriously figured Joey Nogood would try something stupid when they finally caught up with him.
It turned out they’d have to wait a little longer to know for sure, though. There wasn’t any sign of the guy.
“I’m already getting tired of this place,” Hank said when the door closed behind them.
“Yeah. Me, too,” Travis agreed.
But unless one of their informants came through and they learned where Joey was living, all they could do was keep trying the club.
As they walked back to where Travis had parked, he made a comment that Hank didn’t catch. Then he said, “You still conscious in there?”
“Uh-huh. Just thinking about something.”
“Robbie?”
“Yeah.”
After he’d told Travis that he and Natalie had agreed to six months each, they’d let the subject drop. Travis had had the brains to realize Hank didn’t really feel like an in-depth discussion.
But even though they hadn’t been talking, he’d been unable to stop himself from thinking. And that had left him on autopilot, which was a good way for a cop to land in trouble.
Despite knowing that, though, when he wasn’t wondering how he could make Robbie understand why he’d be living with Natalie half the time, he’d been contemplating the situation she was involved with at the hospital.
It was hard to fathom why she’d let herself get in so deep, emotionally speaking, with the Perez family.
Yet she had—and he wished that wasn’t the case. He didn’t like to see people he cared about making mistakes.
He mentally shook his head as that thought formed.
At the start of this, if anyone had tried to tell him he’d end up caring for her he’d have laughed out loud. But, like it or not, that was how things had turned out.
And like it or not, she’d soon have Robbie in Guatemala with her.
He and Travis reached the car, then headed for Manhattan North. A ton of paperwork was waiting there for them, easily enough to take them through the rest of the shift.
Once they reached the squad room, he did his best to concentrate on what he was doing. It was tough, though, because he was back to feeling the same way he had the other day. As if he’d been driving nails into his own coffin.
He’d told Natalie they had to continue taking things one step at a time. Let Robbie get used to the idea that she was his mother before they said anything about his living with her part-time.
But all the while they were going slowly, she’d be right there under his roof with him—undoubtedly driving him crazier and crazier with her oh-so-kissable-looking lips and the cute little dimple that appeared beside her mouth when she smiled.
And then there was his offer to fly down to Guatemala with Robbie.
He had to do it, of course. Had to make sure Robbie was convinced that his staying there was okay with his dad.
It didn’t take a child psychologist to know that sending a three-year-old off to spend six months in a strange country, with nothing more than a goodbye kiss at the airport, would simply be too much emotional upheaval.
Still, realizing it was the only way to go and being happy about it were two different things. He’d feel as if he were hand-delivering Robbie to the enemy.
Not that Natalie was actually the enemy.
He closed his eyes, and before he realized what was happening he’d started to wonder just exactly how she felt about him. Because there was something on her side of the equation. He was virtually certain of it.
She’d told him that when he’d been late getting home yesterday she’d been worried. Imagining all sorts of awful things had happened to him.
Of course, given the story about her uncle Ted, she would think the worst. But she’d definitely used the word worried. And why would she worry unless she cared? At least a bit.
So if they just gave their “relationship”—for lack of a better word—enough time to see how it developed...
But in his mind’s eye he was picturing grains of sand spilling through an hourglass. And there were already far more of them in the lower half than in the top.
&n
bsp; * * *
ROBBIE SENT YET ANOTHER toy truck rolling down the ramp of his miniature parking garage, then looked over to where Natalie was sitting on the couch and said, “Can we go there again?”
“You mean to the hospital?”
He nodded.
“No, I don’t think we will, honey.”
“How come?”
“Oh...because I only had to go once.”
That had been enough to learn what she’d needed to know. At this point, there wasn’t even the slightest doubt that Emma’s mother was going to die. And it would happen soon.
She swallowed hard. Robbie had enjoyed their outing, had made instant friends with another little boy in the playroom. But she’d come home feeling as if someone had put a rope around her neck and was gradually tightening it.
She could almost hear Emma asking whether her mother would be phoning—and she’d do it the minute Natalie walked into her room.
But how should she answer?
If she told the little girl that her mother was too sick to call right now, the next question would be about how soon she’d be well enough. Lord, Emma might even come right out and ask if she was going to die.
As Cynthia had said that very first day, seven-year-olds are worriers at the best of times.
“Let’s go out,” Robbie suggested. “For a walk in the woods.”
“Out back, you mean?”
When he nodded, she made a mental note to ask Hank if that was allowed. Whoever owned the land might not like trespassers.
“Can we, Natalie?”
Glancing at her watch, she said, “It’s almost time for your dad to get up. And if we’re not here when he does, he’ll wonder where we are.”
“Write it down. Like Mrs. Chevy does.”
“Well...I have to leave as soon as he’s awake. And if we were outside I wouldn’t know when that is. But I’m sure he’ll take you out.”
After giving her a frown, Robbie wandered across the living room and began taking things off his shelves and spreading them around the floor.
She watched him, her thoughts drifting back to Emma. How did you tell a seven-year-old child she’d never see her mother again? What could you say to make it hurt less?
And what about Señora Perez? What would become of her?
As she was thinking that she had far too many questions and not nearly enough answers, she heard Hank’s footsteps in the hall.
He walked into the room still buttoning his shirt—a green plaid flannel one, the sort that feels wonderfully soft to the touch....
“Hi, Daddy.” Robbie gave him a grin.
“Hi, buddy.
“So?” he added, turning to her. “Are things as bad as you expected?”
She nodded. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“Can we go out, Daddy? For a walk? Natalie said you’d take me.”
“Well, then, I guess I’d better. Where are your shoes?”
Robbie scrunched up his nose and gave an elaborate shrug.
“Go find them, okay?”
When he started off, Hank sat down beside her. “What will you say to Emma?”
“I don’t know,” she murmured. “I should try talking to her grandmother again before I say anything to her. Maybe, if I do, Señora Perez will offer to explain what’s happening.”
“You think there’s much chance?”
“No. And if she’s still sick, she won’t even be there to talk to.”
“Why don’t you phone the unit and check on that. Then at least you’ll know what you’re facing.”
Natalie gazed at him for a moment, wondering why she hadn’t thought of that.
Because she’d been too busy worrying, she silently answered herself.
“Good idea?” Hank said.
“Yes. I want to know how Cynthia figures I should handle things, anyway.”
She picked up the cordless, got Cynthia on the line and quickly explained the situation.
“Señora Perez came in today,” Cynthia told her. “She doesn’t look very well, but she’s here.”
“Then do you think I should talk to her first? Have another shot at making her understand her daughter’s condition?”
“I’d say it’s definitely worth a try.”
“All right, then that’s what I’ll do. But I’ve got a horrible feeling it won’t get me anywhere. The odds are she’ll fall apart.”
“I’ve got a horrible feeling you’re right,” Cynthia agreed. “And...look, Natalie, I’m awfully sorry you’re stuck with this.”
“Well, there’s no one else who speaks Spanish. I mean, it’s hardly the sort of thing you can ask someone from another department to take care of for you.”
“I know. But I still feel... Are you sure you don’t mind too much?”
“No, I’ll manage.”
“Then...wait, can you hold on a sec? My assistant’s saying I have to take a call on the other line.”
“Sure.
“I’m on hold,” she told Hank, who’d been listening to her side of the conversation with undisguised interest.
He nodded, hesitated a moment, then said, “I wish you didn’t have to do this.”
She forced a smile. “Me, too. But thanks for not saying you told me so.”
“Yeah, well...”
He held her gaze, and even though she knew she’d be smart to look away, she didn’t. He seemed so genuinely concerned about her that it made her warm inside.
“Natalie?” Cynthia said, coming back on the line.
“I’m still here.”
“I... That call was from St. Aidan’s. Emma’s mother died half an hour ago.”
She could feel a dull ache of sadness seeping through her. “I’ll be there soon,” she said.
“What?” Hank asked as she clicked off.
“She died.”
“Oh, Natalie.”
He hesitated for a moment, then wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.
“You knew it was going to happen,” he murmured into her hair.
“I know. But Emma didn’t.”
Pressing her face against the soft flannel of his shirt, against the hardness of his chest beneath it, she took a deep breath.
Instead of making her feel better, all it did was fill her nose with Hank’s scent—and make her very aware of being in his arms.
He was warm and solid and smelled the way she liked a man to smell. Not of cologne but of himself. Fresh outdoors tinged with a smoky, big-city edge.
She took another breath, trying, just for a moment, not to think about how badly she felt for Emma and her grandmother.
Then Hank tentatively began to stroke her hair and her sadness for them became tinged with a sense of her own losses. Losses of people and of time.
It had been forever since a man had tried to comfort her like this. And she hadn’t realized just how very much she’d missed the sense of being...
Cared for. Those were the words she chose to finish the thought, rejecting the first one that came to mind.
Loved. It forced its way back into her head, but only as a quiet echo. So quiet she could scarcely hear it.
Still, she wished she couldn’t hear it at all.
If she ever fell in love again, it would be with someone who lived in Guatemala. Not with a New York City homicide detective. Not in a million years.
At Uncle Ted’s funeral, she’d sworn that she’d never let herself fall in love with a cop. As she’d told Hank last night, she’d absolutely adored her uncle, so his death had hit her hard.
He’d been the first person she’d loved who’d died, and the fact that he was killed because...
If he hadn’t been a police officer, hadn’t intervened in that robbery... But he had. And his death had convinced her that she should never become romantically involved with any man who routinely danced with danger.
Never ever.
Those words kept repeating themselves in her mind until Hank said, “You okay?”
�
�I think so,” she whispered.
She forced herself to ease out of his embrace—which left her feeling strangely empty.
“Daddy?”
Her gaze flashed to the doorway, where Robbie stood with his shoes in his hands and a puzzled expression on his face.
CHAPTER TEN
HANK DIDN’T HAVE a clue how long Robbie had been standing watching. Or how he’d have read what he’d just seen. It was the first time he’d ever discovered his father holding a woman.
After Jane left, dating hadn’t been a priority. When you had a high-pressure job, plus a young child, there wasn’t much time for other things. And he’d never brought anyone he had gone out with to the house.
“Natalie was feeling sad,” he said by way of explanation.
Robbie eyed the two of them for another moment. “How come?”
“Oh, just something to do with a patient at the hospital.”
“Where she took me?”
“No, the one I’ve been working at in the afternoons,” Natalie told him.
Hank looked at her as she spoke. Her face was flushed, which made him wonder if she felt guilty. Or embarrassed.
“I found my shoes.”
“Right, I can see that,” he said. “But how about if we go for a ride instead of a walk? We’ll drive Natalie to work.”
“Thanks, but you don’t need to,” she said quickly. “I’ll be fine.”
He shrugged. “It’s no big deal. And you might not be feeling too great by the time you’re finished. You can call me when you are and we’ll come get you.”
“Hank, really, I—”
“Let’s just do it that way, all right?”
“Well...all right.”
She gave him a mere ghost of a smile; it made him glad he’d insisted.
“I’ll be ready in a couple of minutes,” she said.
While she headed out of the room, Robbie brought his shoes over for help with putting them on.
Hank knelt beside him, trying to convince himself that the sweet scent of Natalie’s perfume couldn’t really have left him light-headed.
He’d merely tried to comfort her. Yet the moment he’d taken her in his arms it’d felt...right.
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