“Tons is the only quantity she knows how to make.” Ellie watched the little boy move his plastic game piece on the colorful board. He seemed quiet, but almost normal. Maybe he was going to be all right.
Her gaze snapped back to Grant. He was a take-charge sort of man, ready to tackle domestic problems with the same determination he likely put into his military career. He obviously cared about his brother’s children. But what would happen when he went back to Afghanistan? A battle-hardened army officer could hardly be satisfied playing house for the next eighteen years.
What if she told him about the threat to her family? She remembered Kate telling her how worried Lee was about his brother, the conditions he’d fought under, his combat injuries. Lee had shown her Grant’s Purple Heart. If anyone could handle the man who’d threatened her, it might be Grant. But would he help? Would he keep her secret or would he insist on calling the police? The man had been clear about not involving the law. Unfortunately, she didn’t know Grant well enough to trust him, and she couldn’t take the risk. With no clues as to the identity of Hoodie Man, she was on her own.
She forced a smile onto the stiff muscles of her face. “No worries, though. Carson would eat mac and cheese for every meal if you let him.”
“I’ve been picking your grandmother and daughter’s brains for the last hour and taking notes. Let me find my sister to take Faith. Do you have a few minutes now?” Grant watched her with intent eyes that narrowed in suspicion.
She needed to improve her game face. Grant would not be easy to fool.
“Sure.” Ellie nodded, trying to appear casual when she wanted to race through the house searching for the file.
Grant turned to Nan and raised his voice. “Mrs. Ross? Have you seen my sister?”
“I told you to call me Nan like everyone else.” Her grandmother slid the wide blade of the knife under a slice of cake and lifted it onto a plate. She pointed to the back door with the knife. “Hannah is outside on her phone.”
Grant went to the window. Through the glass, Ellie could see a slim, blond woman pacing the back patio, coatless, arms curled around her middle as if she were freezing. Grant knocked on the glass and pointed to the baby. Hannah shook her head and pointed to her phone.
“I’ll take little Faith.” Nan held out her arms.
“Are you sure?” Grant hesitated. “If you stop moving, she starts screaming.”
“She is not the first colicky baby I’ve walked.” Nan tossed a clean dish towel over her shoulder.
Grant handed Faith over. Nan took her with expert arms. “You two go have a nice talk.”
Ellie followed Grant to the home office. He closed the door. The small room was set up to make full use of little space. The desk and hutch were pushed against the far wall. To the right of the door, a credenza held a printer and a stack of law books and periodicals. Grant gestured toward a wooden schoolhouse chair next to the desk. Ellie perched on the edge of the seat, her gaze searching for files. It wasn’t here. Or at least it wasn’t in plain sight. She needed to get a look inside the credenza and desk.
Grant swiveled the office chair to face her and eased into it.
“If Nan is intruding, please let me know,” she said.
“God, no.” Grant shifted his weight. The chair creaked. “I’ll take all the help I can get. I’m thrilled to see Carson eat. Between your grandmother and Julia, I now have a list of his favorite foods and the recipes to make them.”
He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. The small space brought him close enough that she caught a whiff of that woodsy aftershave. The skin around his eyes crinkled into crow’s feet, though she guessed he was only in his midthirties. War and responsibility aged a man, she supposed. She pictured the photo of him that graced the mantle in the living room. He was in uniform, rifle in hand, squinting though the Middle Eastern desert sun. A few wrinkles didn’t make him any less attractive. In fact, the lines made his face more compelling in a masculine way that sent a tiny shiver through her belly like a warning shot.
Her attraction for him was natural and evolutionary. A man had threatened her family, and Grant looked like a strong, capable protector. Biology aside, she was not getting involved with him. She needed that file and that was the end of their relationship.
Ellie shifted back on the seat. Polite small talk eluded her. All she could think about was the Hamilton file and what would happen if she couldn’t find it. She scrambled for conversation. “How are you?”
One side of his mouth lifted. “Terrified of screwing things up with the kids.”
“You seem to have a decent handle on them, considering it’s only been a day.”
“I don’t know.” His brow creased. “I have a feeling it’s going to get harder. Carson talks about Lee and Kate as if they’re still alive.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s normal.”
“Me either. I’m meeting with the elementary school counselor tomorrow. I’m hoping she can give me some guidance.” Grant stared at her in silence for a minute. Grief turned raw in his eyes, and she felt the pressure of empathy and respect build in her chest. Not many people could handle the situation he’d been thrust into without preparation. He didn’t flinch from the pain, but Ellie leaned away from his piercing gaze—and from the intimacy that passed between them.
“So how can I help? I’m not much of a cook. Nan has charge of our kitchen.”
“I wanted to ask you a few questions about the law firm,” he said without breaking eye contact.
“I can’t tell you anything confidential.” Unless, of course, it meant getting her hands on that file.
“Understood.” A baby wail pierced the walls. Grant turned his head to listen, but Faith’s cries faded. “Your boss asked me to look for some files. I found some papers, but I’m not sure if they belong to the firm. Can you be more specific? Which file was Roger upset about?”
The fact that Lee had agreed to represent the Hamiltons wasn’t public knowledge. Even acknowledging client representation could be a breach of confidentiality. Plus, it would be easier to snag the Hamilton file if it were just one among a stack of meaningless clients. If Grant knew the file was significant, he might not give it up.
“Why don’t you let me look through the files you found?” Ellie offered. “I can return the firm’s property for you, and save you the trip.”
Grant tilted his head, his attention sharpening. “Why don’t you tell me what I’m looking for?”
“I can’t.” Ellie shook her head. Lee had taken that file home. It must be here somewhere.
Grant crowded her until their knees touched. The points of body contact, two scant square inches, seemed to be the only parts of her body with feeling. Under her jeans, her skin warmed. Her gaze dropped. His thighs were as thick as her waist. His elbows rested on his legs, his clasped hands falling between his knees. Her heartbeat quickened, her instincts torn between running away at top speed and crawling onto his lap. The second option expanded until her legs were wrapped around his waist. An empty, almost desperate, ache started deep in her belly. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t dated in the last decade. She’d had a couple of beaus. There’d even been sex, occasionally. Rarely. OK, about as often as a legitimate bigfoot sighting. She’d never had a long-term adult relationship. What would it be like to have a man she could count on? Grant was dependable.
Time to dial her imagination back a notch. Lust she could handle, but those deeper yearnings were downright dangerous.
She lifted her gaze to his face. The intensity of his focus reminded her that, as gentle and caring as he was with his brother’s children, he was also a hardened officer, a natural leader who’d seen multiple tours of duty in war zones. She suspected he was looking right through her facade. It would be so much easier to let him take care of her. So much for being a modern, independent woman. Biology was a bitch.
“My brother was murdered,” he said in a flat voice.
Ellie slid backward an inch to break the contact between their bodies. “I know. But I can’t breach client privilege. I’m sorry. The best I can do is to offer to return the files for you.”
“I’ll give them to you as soon as I’m done with them.”
Ellie’s spine snapped straight like a metal measuring tape. Fear rocketed through her. He was going to hold out. “They belong to the firm. Those files are confidential. You’ve no right to keep them.”
“Hypothetically, if I found any files, they’re in my brother’s house, which makes them his property until I decide otherwise.”
“You can’t do that.” Sweat pooled at the base of her spine. “Those files are stamped property of Peyton, Peyton, and Griffin.”
“I guess I won’t see any stamps until I have time to look closer.”
“Roger can file a legal petition.”
Grant shrugged. “Probably, but that’ll take some time, and he has to prove I have the files first.”
“You just told me you have them.”
“Did I?” he asked.
Anger and terror flashed warm in Ellie’s chest. “This isn’t a game.”
“No, it isn’t.” His voice sharpened. “My brother and his wife were murdered. Someone broke into the house today and searched it. I’m wondering if one of his cases caused Lee and Kate’s deaths. Was he working on anything sensitive?”
Alarmed, Ellie stopped him with a raised hand. “Wait. Back up. Someone broke into the house?”
“Yes.” His lips thinned as he pressed them together.
“Were the police here?”
He nodded. “Detective McNamara said it isn’t unusual to have a robbery attempt after a death.”
“That’s horrible, but it doesn’t surprise me. I drove off several possible burglars. But that was at night. To break in in broad daylight seems bold.” And desperate.
“I don’t think it was a burglar. The house was thoroughly searched, and nothing was taken. Not my tablet or Kate’s pearls, among other things.”
“Then why do you think they broke in?” She tried to sound as if she had no idea. “What do they want?”
“I’m not sure.” He leaned back. His fingertips scraped on his jaw. His attention was still locked on her face, and skepticism clouded the clear blue of his eyes, as if he suspected she was lying. “But I wonder about that case file your boss was so anxious to get back. Is there something in that file worth committing robbery and murder and now burglary?”
“I didn’t read Lee’s case notes, so I wouldn’t be able to help you.” That, at least, was the truth.
“All I want is the names of any sensitive cases or clients.” His gaze dropped to her hands.
She was picking at her thumbnail. Ellie interlaced her fingers and clenched them in her lap. “I already told you I can’t give you that information.”
“Look, Ellie. You can trust me. I’m not out to cause any trouble. I assure you I deal with classified information on a daily basis. I have high-level security clearance with the military.”
“In that case, you should understand why I can’t discuss cases with you. You wouldn’t tell me government secrets just because I seemed trustworthy.”
“It’s hardly comparable.” His face hardened. He wasn’t going to give up the file. “OK. If that’s the way you want to play it. I’ll find out another way.”
Just as Ellie would have to find another way to search this house. Though the police and an intruder had already searched it.
She stood. Their knees bumped, but she didn’t fall back, even as his much, much larger body loomed over her.
“I don’t understand why you’re being so difficult,” he said.
So much for playing it cool. She would make a terrible spy.
“My job might not seem like much to you, but I’ve had too many lean years to risk losing a steady paycheck and medical benefits. I have a daughter and grandmother to look after. I’m glad to help you in any way that doesn’t compromise my position.” She clamped her lips together to keep them from trembling, but they both knew she was lying. It didn’t matter. Her daughter and grandmother were too vulnerable. Her family’s lives depended on her doing exactly as instructed.
Grant frowned down at her. The anger in his expression made her regret their conflict on more than a professional level. Maybe it was for the best. But she liked him. Really liked him. He was kind and brave and solid. If it weren’t for the situation driving them apart, she’d be tempted to break her no casual sex rule. Just thinking the word sex with Grant this close brought images to mind. Hot images. Scorching images.
Images that had no part in her life, especially in its current state of crisis.
Warm, she tugged at the neck of her sweatshirt. Nan was right, as usual. Ellie had been celibate too long. Maybe if she found that file and no one got hurt, she and Grant could just . . .
There was no way he’d be interested in her after she acted like such an uptight bitch.
“Are you going to tell your boss I have Lee’s files?” he asked.
No way. If those files were somewhere in the house, she wanted them to stay right here for her to steal.
“If he asks, I’m going to say I didn’t see any of Lee’s files in the house.” She raised her chin. “Which is the truth, though I hate relying on a technicality. I trust that if you should come across some of the firm’s files, you won’t keep them from me too long. Can you live with that?”
“I don’t have much of a choice.” His mouth tightened and guilt threatened to break her resolve. “I will get that information.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
The baby’s cries penetrated the office door.
“I should probably get back to my renovations.” She leaned to the side and gave the door beyond his big body a pointed look. Maybe he’d run to the baby, and she’d have a few seconds to linger in Lee’s office.
He opened the door and stepped back to allow her to exit first. Damn.
“Do you do all the work yourself?” he asked.
“As much as I can. There are some jobs that require more than one person. I have a couple of small contractors I use when I run across something I can’t handle.” Though tonight, she’d like nothing better than to take out her frustrations with a sledgehammer.
“I bet there isn’t much you can’t handle.” The corner of his mouth tilted in a wry almost-smile.
“You’d be surprised.” Ellie’s mind went to the night before, the gun in her back, and the threat to her family.
The baby’s cries drew Grant down the hall. Ellie let him pass. As she walked out, she made notes of all the places the file could be hidden. It was a long list. A frighteningly long list. The old Victorian house had lots of nooks and crannies. Were there five or six bedrooms? How would she ever get full access to the house?
“Don’t hesitate to call if you need a sitter,” she offered as she followed him.
“Julia and your grandmother already made that clear,” he called over his shoulder.
Ahead of her, his broad shoulders filled the narrow hall, and she was tempted to drag him back into the office and tell him all about last night. But she couldn’t risk it.
She was being watched.
Chapter Thirteen
Fully dressed under the duvet, Julia waited. The house had been quiet for an hour. Her mom hadn’t even worked on the house the last two nights. She seemed anxious and exhausted in a way that sent guilt washing over Julia. They were all still sad about what happened to the Barretts.
Now that Mrs. Barrett was gone, Julia wasn’t even sure she still wanted to be part of the figure skating team. It was fun, but Julia had no illusions about her skills. She was novice material, which was fine. School took up so much time, she didn
’t need one more serious activity. Mrs. Barrett had made the lessons and occasional competition fun. But the club hadn’t decided which coach was going to take over her students. Some of the instructors were downright scary-intense.
She suppressed her guilt with a hot dose of anger. She’d asked about going to a concert the following weekend, and Mom had refused. So the band was total screamo and their last live concert video showed some pretty wild fan behavior. They’d put out the fire in the mosh pit, and no one had gotten seriously hurt. But Mom didn’t want to hear any of that. She’d never change. If Julia had to hear her lecture one more time . . . It isn’t you I don’t trust. It’s everyone else. You’re only fifteen. She’d heard those words so often, they echoed in her brain. Well, tonight was going to be different. Julia was going out with Taylor. She was going to have fun like all her friends.
The Barretts’ deaths were totally random. A senseless and bizarre event that illustrated life wasn’t something to be wasted. Julia wasn’t going to sit at home until she went to college. Who knew what could happen tomorrow? She was going to live a little.
Her phone vibrated. She read the text from Taylor: outside.
But first she had to get out of the house without waking her mother or grandmother. Nan’s hearing wasn’t great, and Mom was a sound sleeper. But Julia wouldn’t take a deep breath until she was in Taylor’s car driving far away from her house.
Later, she’d have to sneak back inside. No. She wasn’t going to ruin her night by worrying. Live in the moment, Taylor said. He’d been sneaking out of his parents’ house for years.
Julia peeled back the comforter and slipped out of bed. She tucked pillows under the blanket and shaped them as much like a person as possible. Standing back, she checked the effect and tugged the comforter a little higher. She propped her hands on her hips and surveyed her work. Good enough for a cursory inspection in the dark. Time to go. Nerves and excitement flapped together. She pressed a hand to her stomach, willing it to chill out. She’d been waiting all year to be alone with Taylor. Tonight it was going to happen.
Hour of Need (Scarlet Falls) Page 11