They had traveled a hard road since Karen’s death. Both had been lost and confused by what to do next. Somehow they’d found their own way—one day at a time.
Quietly he entered her room. When he reached the bed, he leaned down and kissed her forehead, as he did every night.
“I love you,” he whispered.
Bobbi’s eyes fluttered open and a small smile curved her lips when their gazes met. “You’re late,” she whispered.
“I know.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped with his weight.
“Did Grandma and Grandpa go home?”
“Nah, they’re sleeping in the spare room.”
She nodded and looked at him quizzically. “Are you okay?”
He pushed back one of her wayward curls from her face, loving the fact that she’d inherited her mother’s hair. “I am now.”
“Were you over at Aunt Lilly’s?”
He nodded.
“Are you going to watch me pitch tomorrow?”
“Just for a little while. I have a car I have to check on tomorrow, but I’m sure Grandpa is still going.”
She nodded, satisfied. “Grandpa is my number-one fan,” she boasted.
“He’s number one?” He feigned a hurt expression.
“You’ve missed two games this season. He’s never missed a game,” she reminded him.
Carson lowered his head and fixed his doleful eyes on her. “But I’m always with you in spirit.”
She held his gaze and pretended not to be affected by his performance. “All right. You can be number one again.”
Carson’s face immediately exploded into another smile before he showered her with kisses.
“You go back to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Can we go over to Aunt Lilly’s for breakfast?”
“Again?”
“I like eating over there,” she said simply.
“All right.” He kissed her again and stood from the bed. “Good night.”
“’Night.”
Carson closed the door to her bedroom and went to his own room. Once inside, he walked over to the window, as he did every night, and stared out.
He loved the smell of the rain and knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would have a good night of sleep. Below his window, he stared at the beautiful garden and smiled. No matter where he went in Moreland, there was always something around to remind him of Karen.
He turned from the window and removed his clothes.
When he got into bed, sleep didn’t come as easily as he’d expected. Instead, a beautiful woman with cat-shaped eyes monopolized his thoughts.
Robin woke up the next morning and stretched lazily next to her mother. She thought to wake her up and remind her that today they were supposed to meet David somewhere. She didn’t understand why everything had to be such a secret, but it seemed to be important to her mom.
She reached out a hand, fully intending to wake her, but suddenly decided against it. Her mom really looked tired. Maybe she should let her sleep a little longer. There wasn’t a real rush, anyway. That nice man from last night still had to fix their car.
Robin turned back the sheet just as she caught the scent of bacon. Her stomach growled as she rushed out of bed and over to their suitcases to find something to wear. Her mother had forgotten to pack her favorite shirt with the pink and yellow flowers on it. She moaned in disappointment, then decided to wear the purple one with red hearts.
She finished dressing and thought again about waking her mother, but held fast to her decision to let her sleep. Quietly she walked over to the door and slipped out of the room.
In the hallway, the smell of breakfast was even more mouthwatering. She could definitely get used to this place. At the staircase, she took her time glancing around as she descended, which was why she practically plowed into an older man near the bottom.
“Oops, sorry.” She quickly jumped back from the banister.
“Whoa. Where’s the fire?” he asked.
Robin started to apologize again when the man smiled and showed the whitest set of teeth she’d ever seen. “Are those your real teeth?” she couldn’t help asking.
The man laughed. “According to my receipt from Nick’s Drug Emporium, they are. What’s your name, pretty girl?”
“My mom says I shouldn’t talk to strangers.”
“Is that right?” The man even seemed to think that was funny. “Did she have any words of wisdom about where you’re going?”
Robin fell silent.
“Well, my name is Pierce Taylor.” He offered his hand.
She stared at him. He appeared strange, but he seemed nice. “Robin Kelley.”
They shook hands.
“There. We’re not strangers anymore, are we?” he asked.
She guessed he had a point. “Do you live here?”
“Oh, no. But I work here from time to time. Ms. Lilly and I are good friends.” His brows rose. “I hear you and your mother were stranded out on the highway last night. I sure hope you weren’t scared.”
She shook her head, offended that he would even suggest such a thing. In truth, she didn’t remember too much of it.
“Well, that’s good to hear.” He playfully tugged on her loose ponytail. “For a minute I thought you was Carson’s daughter, Bobbi. You two kind of favor. I bet ya I know what’s got you up so early this morning—breakfast. I swear sometimes that the angels in heaven can smell that woman’s cooking.”
Robin laughed at the thought.
“How would you like an escort to the feast? Maybe you’ll even be first at the table.” He offered her an arm.
Robin giggled and slipped her arm through his.
When they entered through the doors leading to the dining area, Lilly, who was busily setting the table, lifted a curious brow at the odd couple.
“Well, what do we have here?”
“I met this little lady on the staircase. I believe she’s looking for something to eat,” Pierce explained.
“Is that right? I think I may be able to do something about that. Do you like flapjacks?”
Robin frowned. She didn’t think she’d ever had them. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t tell me that you never had flapjacks before,” Lilly said incredulously “Where are you from?”
“Good morning, everybody,” Carson greeted from the doorway.
Meanwhile, Robin didn’t particularly like being the only one in the world who didn’t know what flapjacks were.
Pierce interrupted. “I think I’m going to go on upstairs and check out that broken toilet in room four.”
“Thanks, Pierce. I’d nearly forgotten all about it.”
“Don’t mention it. Goodbye, Miss Robin,” he said, returning his attention to the little girl. “I hope to run into you again.” He winked, then disappeared with a laugh.
Carson delivered a quick peck to his sister’s cheek, then turned toward their little guest. “Ah, Miss Robin, are you and your mother joining us for breakfast this morning?”
She nodded for herself, then added, “Mommy’s still sleeping.”
Carson’s smile faded a bit, and Lilly’s eyebrows lifted curiously.
“Hey, Aunt Lilly.”
Robin turned in time to see a young girl whip into the room and head straight into Lilly’s outstretched arms.
“Hey, ya, sport. Are you ready for your game against the Cougars?” Lilly gave a slight tug on the girl’s braided pigtail.
“Sure am. I’m going to beat that Stanley Forrester. I’ll teach him not to call me Snobby Bobbi.”
Carson laughed.
“It’s not funny, Daddy. You wouldn’t like it if all your friends started calling you names.”
“That’s right,” Lilly chimed in. “You didn’t like it when your friends called you names.”
Carson’s smile dropped.
Bobbi’s eyes widened. “They called you names?”
Carson cast his sister a withering l
ook. “Thanks.”
“What?” she asked with mock innocence, then disappeared into the kitchen.
“What did they call you?” Bobbi asked, crossing her arms.
Carson shrugged, then spotted Robin again. “Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t get a chance to meet one of our newest guests.” He moved over to Robin and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Robin, I’d like for you to meet my daughter, Barbara. Barbara, this is Robin.”
“Daddy,” his daughter whined.
“Forgive me. She only answers to Bobbi.”
The girls exchanged awkward smiles and hellos.
“How long you staying?” Bobbi asked, breaking the ice.
Robin shrugged. “My mom said that we’re leaving today after your dad finishes fixing our car.”
“Oh.”
“Here we are,” Lilly said, entering the room and carrying a tray of food.
“Ooh, I love pancakes,” Robin said, feeling her mouth water with anticipation.
Lilly smiled with understanding. “Round here we call them flapjacks. You’re definitely a city girl.”
“Would you like to come and watch my baseball game?” Bobbi asked, reaching across the table to nab a banana, only to receive a pop on the hand for her troubles.
“What did I tell you about reaching across the table like that?” Lilly warned with a shake of her finger.
“Sorry,” Bobbi quickly apologized with a dramatic pout.
The anger in Lilly’s voice disappeared as quickly as it came. “Well, all right, then. Do you want flapjacks or do you want your usual?”
Bobbi wiggled her brows. “The usual. I’m pitching today, which means I don’t want anything heavy.”
“La-di-da. One bowl of Captain Crunch coming up.”
“Well?” Bobbi returned her attention to Robin. “Do you want to come or not?”
“I don’t know. I’d have to ask my mom when she wakes up.”
“Aw, I’m sure she’ll say that it’s okay.” Bobbi waved off the obstacle and for the first time assessed Robin’s clothes. “Do you even play baseball?”
Robin shifted uncomfortably and shook her head. From the dumbstruck look plastered on Bobbi’s face, Robin had the feeling that she was suddenly uncool.
“What do you do for fun, then? And please don’t tell me that you play with dolls.” She rolled her eyes.
Robin slapped her hands against her hips and glared. “And what’s wrong with dolls?”
“For one thing they’re boring, and for another they’re silly.”
“They are not!”
“All right, girls,” Carson butted in. “Behave.”
Robin stifled her retort, but had a good idea of how Bobbi obtained her nickname of Snobby Bobbi.
“Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. It sure smells like heaven in here,” a thunderous voice declared, seconds before a short, heavyset man with gray hair wobbled into the room. “Well, I declare, Carson’s here. Please tell me that there’s some food left for the guests.”
Carson laughed good-naturedly. “You’re in luck, Joe. Bobbi and I just got here.”
“Well, I thank God for small blessings.” Joe’s eyes widened when Lilly returned to the dining room carrying trays of bacon and sausages.
Robin’s eyes widened at the delicious sight, and she had to wonder if heaven smelled this wonderful.
“I swear, Lilly, you’re some competition when it comes to my Joe’s affections.” An older woman joined the group.
Lilly laughed.
Joe’s face darkened with embarrassment. “Ah, Rosie. You know that you’re the only one for me.” He encircled her in his arms and planted a brief kiss against her cheek.
Robin smiled.
“Yuck.” Bobbi made a face at the couple. “I wish you two would give people a warning before you start doing that in public.”
“Bobbi,” both Carson and Lilly snapped.
“Sorry,” Bobbi mumbled under her breath, then poured milk into her cereal bowl before returning her attention to Robin. “So how old are you, anyway?”
Robin thought about not answering, but decided that her mother would always want her to be polite. “Eight.”
Bobbi nodded as if giving her approval. “Me, too.” She eyed her a bit longer through mouthfuls of cereal. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“You sure do ask a lot of questions,” Robin said, annoyed. She wasn’t sure that she even liked the girl.
Bobbi only smiled. “Last time I checked, it was the only way to really get to know a person.”
Robin figured the girl had a smart answer for everything.
Lilly placed a plate of pancakes topped with butter and syrup in front of Robin. “Eat up.”
More people filtered into the room, all of them praising Lilly’s cooking. For the most part, Robin enjoyed meeting Joe, Rosie, Albert, Dotty and Pierce. But she also met some overly made-up woman named Sheri Higginbotham—who apparently had the hots for Bobbi’s dad, Carson.
Robin immediately didn’t like her.
Chapter 6
“Good morning,” Paul greeted Tony in the cafeteria while simultaneously reaching into a box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts. “I hope you slept well, because we have a full day ahead of us.”
Tony, not known for being a morning person, merely grunted and headed over to the coffeepot.
“I got us an appointment to meet with Virginia Jacobson in about—” he glanced at his watch “—twenty minutes.”
“All right,” Tony conceded, and continued to pour his coffee the way he liked it: black, no sugar. “I thought you were making me lead investigator on this case.”
“I am, but I want to hear what Newman’s ex-partner has to say. The pressure is always hard whenever we lose an agent. So I hope you don’t mind my playing tag on this one.”
“Of course not,” Tony replied, but his gruff voice belied his answer.
Paul bit into his breakfast and shook the sugary flakes from his blue suit. “These things are wonderful, but messy.”
“Have you ever thought about actually eating something with nutritional value?” Tony asked, shaking his head. “I swear, my arteries clog just watching you eat.”
“I see you woke up on the wrong side of the bed again.” Paul shoved the remainder of his doughnut into his mouth with a dramatic flare and chased it with coffee.
“It’s not that. I just wish that you would take better care of yourself.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Paul said, suddenly conscious of the extra twenty pounds sagging around his middle. It was a stark contrast to Tony’s well-chiseled body.
Come rain, snow, or shine, Tony usually rose well before the sun to run six miles and pump weights. And very rarely did anything unhealthy enter his mouth. At times, Paul admired the man’s discipline, but at others, he resented it.
“Back to our case. Do you know if the last body at the morgue has been identified yet?” Tony asked.
“That’s a big negative. Of course, it’s going to be kind of hard to do. According to Dr. O’Brien, a good portion of the man’s face was blown off.”
“Ouch.”
“You’re telling me. What a lousy way to go. Anyway, they’re running prints and dental records. We should have something soon.”
“Exactly what time did you get in here this morning?”
“About the same time you finished your second mile, sport.” He reached for another doughnut.
Tony smiled. “Any more news from the crime lab?”
“Nope. But the morning is still young.”
Frankie’s patience thinned. He’d searched the Kelleys’ residence from top to bottom and had come up empty, not counting the dead body in the bathroom. He’d never been a man to stare into the mirror of regret; Frankie simply focused his attention elsewhere: Julia Kelley.
He glanced at his watch, then eyeballed the black Camry parked in the garage. No doubt the good doctor had fled town. He was just puzzled about how.
“All right, Frankie,” he coun
seled himself. “Maybe the lady has another car.” He rubbed his chin as he thought about that for a moment. “It’s a strong possibility.”
The problem now was uncovering what kind of vehicle it was and discovering its location. “This job isn’t without its share of challenges,” he mumbled.
A low shrill emanated from his coat pocket, and he retrieved his cell phone and answered in a curt tone, “Talk to me.”
“Frankie, Frankie. Me and the boys here have been waiting for your call. What’s going on down there in the Old South?”
Frankie shook his head and struggled to keep his irritation out of his voice. “Uncle Vinny, you know how I feel about talking business over cell phones.”
“Ah, we know, but what can I say? We were getting a little worried. It’s not like you not to check in.”
“Then consider this my check-in and I’ll call you later.” Frankie cursed under his breath and disconnected from the call. This was his first job with his uncle since his fiasco on the Dunaway case back in ’98. He’d refused to blow up Mitchell Dunaway’s car while he drove his wife and children to the JFK airport. He drew the line at harming children.
But before he had another opportunity at Dunaway, the explosives had been discovered under his car. Vinny was not a happy man at the missed opportunity, and as a result Frankie had lost favor with his powerful uncle.
This time he wouldn’t fail.
He jerked at the sound of a car pulling up into the driveway; then seconds later a horn blared. Curious, he reentered the house and moved toward the closest window to stare out.
A pale blue Chrysler minivan was parked out front, and from what he could see, a middle-aged blonde, complete with fancy sunglasses and a thin cigarette, peered up at the house, then laid on the horn again.
Frankie shook his head. Didn’t women know how unattractive smoking made them? He watched her as she then reached into her purse and scribbled something on a notepad. When she finished, she handed the note to someone in the back.
The van’s side door swooshed back and a miniature image of the driver jumped out and bounded up the stairs toward the house to place the note in the door.
After the mother and daughter had driven off, Frankie went to the door and quickly retrieved the note. It read, “Julia, came by to take Robin to ballet and there was no answer. Call me later—Nancy.”
Surrender to Love Page 4