by Kathi Daley
“It’s not a problem at all. Anything we can do to make things easier for those kids is worth doing. Maybe I’ll stop by my place and pick up my video game system. Billy is the right age to enjoy blowing stuff up.”
“I think that is a wonderful idea.”
Trevor walked around the truck and slid into the driver’s seat. He turned and looked at me. “Do you think Billy and Aspen need clothing and toothbrushes and whatnot?”
“I’m sure we can stop by the group home and pick up what we need for Billy, but Aspen might need stuff.”
“She was wearing that backpack when we found her.”
“I’ll call my mom and see what she has with her and what she might need.”
Mom gave me a small list of items to pick up and assured me that she had things handled for the time being. Both kids had been through a lot in the past few weeks, and both seemed happy to curl up in the den with the animals and watch cartoons. It had begun to sprinkle, and the dark clouds that had been on the horizon earlier had begun to move inland. I had a feeling we were going to be in for a good amount of rain before this was all over.
“As long as we are stopping at your place to get the video game system, why don’t you grab Pj’s and a toothbrush. If the storm gets too bad, you can stay at my place tonight.”
Trevor playfully wiggled his eyebrows. “Sounds like your idea has promise.”
“You can sleep in the third-floor guest room,” I clarified. “I’m sure it won’t be as comfy as your own bed, but if it really starts coming down hard, you will have the option to stay if you want.”
“Thanks for the offer. I might take you up on your suggestion, so I’ll grab a few things. I’m not afraid of a little rain, but with the way this vacation has been going so far, I suppose I should be prepared for anything.”
“I wonder if Mac and Ty are having better luck with their attempt for some couple time. I’m not even sure where they went. All she said was that they were going down the coast.”
“I had the feeling that Mac was being intentionally vague,” Trevor said. “I don’t think she wants to be found.”
“I guess I don’t blame her. It does seem like she and Ty have had been trying to get some alone time for a while now and they keep getting interrupted.”
Trevor pulled into his drive and parked. We both got out and went inside. He headed toward the entertainment center and began to unplug his video game system. I walked across the room and looked out at the sea, which was pounding onto the beach. The thought of cuddling up with Trevor and watching it rain was so tempting, but it appeared as if we’d have Billy and Aspen to look after at least for the next few days. Given the fact that next week was Thanksgiving, it wouldn’t surprise me if we had them all week. I wondered if the courts were even in session next week. Perhaps for a day or two at the beginning of the week; hopefully, long enough to make a more permanent arrangement for the siblings.
I really felt bad for those kids. Given the fact that it appeared they’d needed to be fairly self-sufficient, I would be willing to bet the four siblings were really close. I wondered about the younger two. I hoped there was a way to reunite the family. Somehow, the idea of them all going in separate directions just didn’t seem right.
“Ready?” Trevor asked after a few minutes.
“I am. Did you get what you needed?”
“I did. Was there anything else you wanted to do before heading back to your place other than stopping by the group home to get Billy’s things and the store to pick up supplies?”
“No. I guess not. I keep feeling like I should be doing more to help Woody find the person who shot Trinity and Bryson, but Bryson has moved on, and Trinity isn’t dead, so I guess my unique skill set isn’t really a factor at this point in time.”
“In this instance, I think you are right that there really isn’t anything we can do to help. If things change and it looks like there is something we can do, we’ll figure it out from there.”
Standing on tiptoe. I kissed Trevor on the mouth. “Thank you.”
He tightened his arms around me and kissed me back. “I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve such a sweet thank you, but if this is the reward, whatever it was, was totally worth it.”
I ran a finger across Trevor’s cheek while looking into his eyes. “Thank you for being you. Thank you for caring. Thank you for giving up your vacation to help these kids. I know this is not the intimate getaway you hoped for. We both hoped for,” I clarified.
Trevor leaned in slightly and captured my lips for just a moment. “I think we are doing exactly what we need to do, and if all we accomplish today is helping Billy and Aspen through this difficult time, then I think that is enough.”
When we arrived at the house, we found Billy and Aspen curled up together on the sofa like puppies. Both were sound asleep.
“I could see the kids were exhausted, so I went ahead and gave them dinner,” Mom informed me. “If you and Trevor want to carry them upstairs and get their pajamas on, I’ll start dinner for the three of us.”
“I’m sorry your dinner plans were ruined,” I said, remembering for the first time that Mom had had plans this evening.
“It’s not a problem at all. Making sure the kids are okay is much more important.”
“They certainly have had a tough time of it,” Trevor agreed.
“They are both really worried about their younger siblings,” Mom said. “I’m sure they are fine, but I can also see why the older two are worried. They are used to taking care of the little ones. I’m wondering if Woody can arrange a visit. I’d be happy to supervise if the younger two would be allowed to come over for a while tomorrow.”
“I’ll call Woody in the morning and see if there is anything we can work out.” I glanced at Trevor, who was leaning over to pick up Billy. “In the meantime, we’ll get them settled in bed. I’m going to put them both in the guestroom with the king-sized bed on the second floor.”
“That’s a great idea. I think they’ll find comfort in each other’s company,” Mom agreed.
After we carried the children upstairs, Trevor helped Billy into his pajamas, and I helped Aspen into hers. An odd thought of us doing this in the future for our own children flashed into my mind. I don’t know if the thought was a potent or simply a daydream, but I had to admit it left me with a warm and fuzzy feeling and not the terror the idea of children had caused in the past.
Once we’d tucked them in, we went downstairs to join Mom in the kitchen.
“I’m just making an omelet for the three of us since we had the ingredients and it sounded easy,” Mom informed us.
“Sounds good to me.”
“I have biscuits in the oven. It’s been a while since I’ve made biscuits. Seemed like just the thing on a rainy night.”
I glanced out the window. The rain was coming down steady now, and the wind had picked up quite a bit.
“Any news from Woody on either shooting?” Mom asked as she poured the beaten eggs into a pan.
“No. I thought I’d call him tomorrow. I don’t want to take up a lot of his time since I know he has his hands full, but I will admit to being curious as to whether he thinks the two events are related.”
“It seems that two shootings involving individuals who both work in the area of family law would be related,” Mom pointed out.
“You would think so, but while both were shot, each was shot with a different type of gun. I’m just not sure that a shooting at close range with a handgun and a shooting from a distance with a sniper rifle would be carried out by the same person.”
“Maybe the fact that two different weapons were used was intended to throw everyone off,” Trevor offered.
“Perhaps,” I agreed. “And I do agree that the fact that Trinity and Bryson worked together on the same cases would seem to indicate that an unhappy client was behind things. I’m not unhappy that Trinity directed me toward Aspen. If I’d had time to provide only a single clue, that is what I’d have
done as well, but I do wish we’d had time for her to tell me who shot her. I just have this feeling she knows.”
“Maybe she’ll wake up,” Mom said.
“I hope so. And not just because she can probably direct us to the person who shot her. I’d never even heard her name before this, but I can tell that she is a very special woman.”
“Do you know if she’s married? Does she have children of her own?” Mom asked.
Hesitating, I answered. “I’m not really certain, but it has been her sister who has been staying by her side at the hospital. No one has mentioned a husband or children. At least not to me. She’s young. Mid- to late-twenties. I imagine she might have been focusing on her career to this point.”
Mom scooped the omelet onto a plate and divided it into thirds. She took the biscuits from the oven and slid them into a basket. I grabbed the coffee pot, and we all headed to the little table in the kitchen nook. The table was small and only accommodated four chairs, three comfortably, but the nook was really more of a large garden window, which allowed us to enjoy the storm while staying dry.
“So about Thanksgiving,” Mom said, totally changing the subject. “My friend is not going to be able to come due to a family emergency back in Nebraska, but I was chatting with Donovan and almost jokingly suggested he should hop over and join us, and he agreed.”
“Wow.” I raised a brow. “That’s great. I am surprised he is willing to fly clear across the country for dinner, but I’m thrilled. I haven’t seen him in forever.”
“I couldn’t have been more surprised when he accepted my invitation,” Mom agreed. “Not that it was even meant as a real invitation given the distance, but now that he has accepted, I agree with you, I really can’t wait to see him.”
“So do you chat with Donovan often?” Donovan had been my handler when I’d been in witness protection and Mom and I had occasionally checked in with him but until I’d received some odd texts a while back that we felt might be related to the mob family who’d wanted me dead in the first place, I hadn’t talked to him in several years.
“I’ve been staying in contact with him ever since you received the texts and the photo of the Bonatello brothers. I know that Donovan isn’t overly worried since it appears that the person who sent the texts believes you are in New York, but as your mother, I can’t help but be worried. Talking things through with Donovan helps.”
The text I’d received back in October contained a photo of Clay and Mario Bonatello, the brothers who killed my best friend and tried to kill me, landing me in witness protection, along with a message: She who spills the blood must pay the price. Donovan believed Vito Bonatello, Clay’s son, might have sent the message. Their own family members had taken out both Clay and Mario after it was decided by the group that their obsession with me was bad for everyone involved. Vito had been in jail when his father had been murdered but had recently gotten out. Since he’d been out, five top-ranking members of the Bonatello family had been murdered, including Franco Bonatello, the highest-ranking family member and the one who had given the go-ahead to have Vito’s father killed.
“Did Donovan have any news?” I asked.
“Not really. He has been keeping a close eye on things and was somewhat concerned about the break-in at your old apartment, but he also said that things have been quiet for a while.”
Donovan had had one of the FBI guys from the Portland office pick up my phone. He was monitoring all my incoming texts and calls. In the meantime, I’d been given an unregistered burner cell to use.
“I’m happy that Donovan is coming for a visit. I miss him. But I’m not going to get pulled into worrying about something that I might not even need to worry about. I’m sorry this is upsetting for you, but I do hope you can relax and enjoy the holiday.”
“I will. And I am. I do feel better being here where I can keep an eye on you.”
I leaned over and gave Mom a hug. “I know. And I feel better about the fact that you are here watching over me as you always have.”
Chapter 7
Sunday, November 18
I woke the following morning to the sound of laughter coming from downstairs. Children’s laughter. It was nice. I smiled as I laid in bed and stared at the ceiling. Tucker was lying on the bed next to me, but Sunny and Shadow were both missing. I assumed Mom had opened my door and let them out when she and kids had gotten up. Trevor had ended up staying as well, so it seemed we had a full house this morning.
I turned my head and stared into the brown eyes of my best buddy. “Are you ready to get up?”
He thumped his tail on the bed.
“Sounds hectic.” I laid there for another minute. “But nice.”
I wasn’t the sort who minded being alone, but it was nice when the house came alive with the sound of voices. Sliding my legs to the side, I pulled myself out of bed. Padding into the attached bath, I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. I really hadn’t meant to sleep as late as I had, but I guess I’d been tired. Between the cruise gone wrong and the recent shootings, it had been a stressful week.
When I arrived downstairs, I found Aspen in the kitchen, mixing up something that looked like cookie dough and Billy in the den killing zombies with Trevor. Sunny growled at the zombies every time they exploded, while Shadow was curled up in a chair watching the show.
“There she is,” Trevor greeted after hitting pause on the game.
“Sorry I slept so long. Did you both get breakfast?” I asked.
“Your mom made a breakfast casserole,” Trevor answered. “She has some warming in the oven for you.”
“Okay. I’m going to go and grab some coffee. I don’t want to interrupt your game.”
I wasn’t even out the door before I heard the sound of Zombie explosions starting back up in the background.
“Are you hungry?” Mom asked.
“Actually I think, I’ll just start with coffee for now. Are you making cookies?”
“Apricot oatmeal,” Aspen answered.
“That sounds yummy.”
“Woody called for you about an hour ago,” my mom informed me. “I offered to wake you, but he said it could wait. He said to have you call him as soon as you got up.”
I poured a cup of coffee and then took a sip. “Okay, thanks. I’ll call him now.”
Deciding to head back upstairs where it was quieter, I grabbed my coffee and my cell and headed in that direction.
“Hey, Woody. It’s Amanda. What’s up?” I asked after he picked up.
“I called to update you on the Bryson Teller shooting, and to ask a favor, but before I get into that, when I called this morning your mom answered your cell, and once she had me on the line she managed to manipulate me into agreeing to facilitate a visit between Billy and Aspen and their younger siblings.”
I laughed. “I’m not surprised. Last night, she mentioned that Billy and Aspen were worried about them and she felt that a visit would help and if I know my mom, and I do, I also know that once she latches onto an idea, she won’t be letting go anytime soon.”
“I figured as much, so I made some calls. As it turns out, the woman who was assigned to oversee Trinity’s cases, at least for the time being, is an old friend of mine and she agreed to try to arrange a visit. Leslie was able to reach the foster family who took the younger two siblings, and it seems they are really overcrowded and wondered if you would be willing to take the younger two in until a more permanent situation can be worked out.”
Four kids? Four was a lot, but I knew Mom would be all over it. “I’ll check with Mom, but I think that will be fine. I seem to remember the younger two are four and six.”
“Willow is four, and Henry is six. If your mom is willing to take responsibility for them, I can have then brought to you today.”
“I’ll ask her and call you right back. You said you had a favor you wanted to ask?”
“Check with your mom first, and then when you call back, we can dis
cuss the favor.”
“Okay. I’ll ask her right now. In fact, if you just want to hang on, that might be faster.”
As I expected, Mom was more than willing to keep an eye on all four children if they could be together. I told Woody as much, and he promised to make the arrangements. I figured two could sleep in the bed on the third floor and two could sleep in the bed on the second floor. Since Mom’s room and mine were on the second floor, I supposed it would be best to put the older two upstairs.
“Okay, now for the favor,” Woody said. “I’ve managed to dig up a few suspects in the Bryson Teller shooting. None are great suspects, but they do have a motive. I know you’ve gone to the courthouse twice and have not been able to connect, but I remembered you told me once before that while most of the time a ghost will be found where they died, there are instances when they will return to a specific place like their home.”
“That is true.”
“I wondered if you would be willing to go by Bryson’s home just to check to see if he is there. He recently separated from his wife and moved into a new house on the coast just south of Cutter’s Cove. I have no idea if he would even think of it as home at this point, but I did want to eliminate the possibility that he might be hanging out there. If he hasn’t moved on as we suspect he has, then maybe he knows something that will help us to pin down the person who killed him.”
Glancing out the window, I sighed. At least the rain had stopped. “I’d be happy to go to his home and see if I can connect. How do I get in?”
“I’ll meet you there. You need a code to get in the gate at the front of the neighborhood and then a key and alarm code to get into the house.”
“Okay. Give me an hour. Oh, and I’ll need an address.”
******
As Woody had indicated, Bryson lived in a gated community just south of Cutter’s Cove. The house, while beautiful, was sparse in terms of personal accents. There were no paintings on the walls, no photos on the mantel, and no magazines, takeout menus, or stacks of mail that would indicate that anyone actually lived there, but it did sound as if he’d only recently moved out of the home he’d shared with his wife. I really doubted that Bryson was here. As Woody had already suggested, the man hadn’t really had time to form an emotional attachment to the place or to even make it into a place that felt like home. Still, I had come all this way, so I decided to try to connect as long as I was here. I didn’t sense the man, so I decided to just walk around the house, touching things in the hope I’d get a feel for his spirit if he was indeed still with us.