by Jean Oram
“Why would she try and hide that from me?” His fists were clenched over his knees and he willed himself to open his hands flat.
“Well…” Daphne said, casting him a glance. “Maybe she worried you might try and take over?” There was doubt and hesitancy in her voice.
“But wouldn’t that make her feel better? Knowing someone else was taking care of the details so she could focus on getting better?” The fact that he hadn’t noticed how ill she was made him feel like the world’s worst son. She’d already started radiation and had gone to numerous appointments without him knowing. The fact that she didn’t trust him to know of her illness was the worst part.
She didn’t trust him.
“I thought old age was setting in rather rapidly.” Man, that sounded lame. “She told me it was a cold. I should have known. She normally bounces back from something like that within days.”
“You can’t blame yourself. She’s an adult and makes her own choices for whatever reason.” Daphne’s voice had an edge and he knew she was thinking about her own life.
“When was she going to tell me?”
Before he’d left, he’d called the neighbor to look in on her, even though he’d be gone less than an hour. His mother had protested about bothering their neighbor, but all Evander could think as they drove farther away from her was that he should be there with her.
Daphne pulled up alongside his truck and he faltered. He couldn’t leave her and Tigger unprotected. Coverage wasn’t coming to sit outside their house for another hour. But he needed to get back so he could arrange for home care to do regular check-ins on his mother, as well as live-in help until she got the all-clear. He pinched the bridge of his nose as emotions overwhelmed him. She’d better get the all-clear.
His mom had assured him that radiation would be done in another week and this blip was likely the worst of it all. Then she’d have a scan to see if the treatment had worked. Meaning she would likely try to railroad his attempts to help, since she figured the end was in sight. But she hadn’t reached it yet, which meant she needed help and support. Help and support he wasn’t there to give.
He followed Daphne back to her house, needing to see her tucked in until someone came to relieve him. Thank goodness she’d gone with the flow this afternoon. He’d been so taken aback by his mother that he hadn’t even thought to call Tyrone to get someone over to fill in for him so Daphne could go home.
He phoned Tyrone now, and slapped a GPS locator on the back of Daphne’s van as he ushered the two Summers to the front door. With his mind in two places he was going to need as many gadgets on the job as possible.
“I’m going to double-check the sensors,” he told Daphne, shutting the door behind them. He checked the house, and when he’d decided all was still okay, went to the front door.
Daphne opened it on the first light knuckle rap, not checking the peephole. He knew, because he had his thumb over it, testing her.
“Use your peephole,” he said.
“I knew it was you.”
“No, you didn’t.” He handed her a wad of cash he’d pulled out of his wall safe back in Bracebridge. “For the paintings.”
Not counting it, she shoved it in the pocket of her cardigan, and he found himself wondering if she had a wall safe of her own or would like him to install one.
“I was watching you from the window,” she said, “so I could answer before you rang the bell and woke Tigger—she totally crashed on the couch. What did you put on my van when we were coming inside?”
“A locator. That okay?”
“Other than it being utterly ridiculous?”
“Yes.”
She chewed on her lip for a moment. “I don’t like it.”
“I know.”
“It represents everything that’s wrong with this situation.”
“Tyrone, my boss, will be on watch tonight, other than for a few hours—that will be Chuck, okay?” Evander didn’t like the fact that Chuck was still on the job, but Tyrone was short staffed tonight, to the point of needing to fill in himself to reduce the amount of time they had to lean on someone like Chuck.
“You’re going home?” Daphne hugged her sweater around her, even though it was a warm August evening, and he stepped closer, worried that she was having a tougher time than she was letting on.
He waved his cell phone, wanting to thank her for all she had done that day, but unable to find the right words without showing her his cracks. “I’ll call if I sense any disturbances. You can also call me if you need anything. Do you still have my number?”
She shook her head and, with a sigh, he pushed past her, inhaling her fresh scent. He’d given her his contact info after the Mistral incident, and he’d had a feeling she’d crumpled it up. But things must be changing if she was receptive to having it now. Or at least letting him barge in to give it to her again.
Either way, he’d take it. It would be easier to keep her safe if he had her participation.
In her kitchen, he scrawled his name and numbers on a notepad. “Put this in your phone. Leave it in your van, your house, work. Everywhere. I’m never farther than a breath away, but I want you to feel safe. Know I have your back, Daphne. Even if I’m not on your doorstep.”
She held the small piece of paper, staring at it blankly in the early evening light. Finally she looked up, brushing a mess of curls off her forehead. “Do you live with your mom in Bracebridge?”
“Yes.”
She swallowed hard and he knew she was thinking that being twenty minutes away wasn’t exactly next door if she was having an emergency. Normally, he’d find a place closer, but with his mom…
“Chuck and Tyrone will keep you safe.”
Her lips parted and Evander resisted the urge to kiss her.
Strange. He wasn’t one to get involved with his job. And that’s what she was, a job. Plus, she wasn’t his type. She’d take him to task on every thing in his life, and he didn’t have the energy to battle that on a daily basis. Nor a desire to. The woman of his dreams would take him for who he was.
“I’m out,” he said, striding through the small house, which was warm and friendly—just like Daphne and her daughter. “Call if you need anything. Any time of day. If I call, pick up.” He held on to the door frame. It was now or never. He swallowed hard. “Thanks.”
“For what? Not busting your balls?” She gave him a light shove, her hands warm on his chest, and he once again had to rein in the urge to kiss her.
“Yeah. And for today. Appreciate it.”
She nodded and he closed the door, calling through it, “I want to hear those locks click into place.”
He could hear her sigh from the other side of the door, but the sound of metal on metal made him smile.
“See you in the morning,” he said. With one last check on her place using his app, he waved to Chuck, who had finally arrived, yawning and holding up a Big Gulp. Evander headed home to take care of his mom and present her with a painting he figured she’d enjoy staring at as much as her garden.
6
Daphne sat up in bed and checked her bedside clock. Who was calling her cell at two in the morning? She fumbled for her lit-up phone, trying to clear the sleep from her voice before answering. Pulling an all-nighter yesterday had not done wonders to her ability to wake up in a flash.
“Hello?”
“Daphne.” It was Evander, his voice low and urgent.
She was out of bed before she processed a thing, hurrying to Tigger’s room, heart pounding.
“Where’s Chuck?” Evander asked.
“Chuck?” Who was Chuck?
“Can you see him on the street? No, don’t go to your window.”
Daphne froze, unsure what he needed her to do.
Evander swore under his breath and she could hear clanking in the background, a door slamming, an alarm going. Another curse and a “Hang on a sec.” A truck started up. “Stay on the line.” Another phone chimed as it powered up.
Heart pounding, Daphne climbed into bed with Tigger, careful not to wake the girl. She placed her back to the wall, eyes on the doorway.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered into the phone, listening for any sounds in the small house. She found herself wishing Melanie still lived with her. Technically, she’d kicked her out only for one night, but her sister had stayed away longer. Right now, Daphne wished she had someone bigger and bolder to lead a charge against whatever was going on that had Evander flipping his lid.
She eyed the bedroom window, wanting to escape, believing the wide-open yard would offer better fleeing options. At the same time, she was too freaked out to move. Was Evander overreacting to a tripped sensor?
“There’s been a disturbance to one of your windows,” he said, and she could hear his truck picking up speed in the background.
“Sometimes they rattle during thunderstorms,” she replied, eager to dismiss the fear coursing through her nervous system.
“It’s been opened.”
Daphne held in a terrified gasp.
“Have you heard anything?” he asked.
Her old house creaked, but she couldn’t tell if it was a late night breeze or someone inside.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Hang on, okay? I’m right here if you need me.”
She overheard Evander giving Chuck a good chewing out over voice mail, on what must have been the other phone she’d heard start up moments ago. After that she could hear him talking to the police.
“Do you have a grip on the wheel?” she asked, envisioning him with a phone in each hand as he stormed the curvy road between the two towns. He didn’t answer, although she could still hear the hum of tires on asphalt. So he was still moving, still right side up, still on the road. All good.
Daphne wrapped Tigger in her blanket and carefully lowered the sleeping girl to the floor, then slid her under the bed, joining her a second later. In the movies, they always hid under the bed or in the closet. And they were always found.
“Daphne?”
“Yes,” she whispered, afraid to be overheard.
“Do you have a weapon?”
“No.” Her voice quavered.
“Stay where you are. I’m on my way and so are the police. Stay…stay hidden.”
He’d save her.
But he was still at least ten minutes away. Anything could happen in ten minutes.
“Hurry,” she whispered, and curled tighter under the bed.
The house rocked as the front door banged open, and Daphne held in a squeak, squeezing Tigger close, her own back to the room as she wiggled closer to the wall, trying to flip the edge of the blanket Tigger was wrapped in over herself for more cover. The little girl moaned in her sleep and stretched her arms, knocking the underside of the wooden bed frame.
“Shh,” Daphne begged.
There were shouts, the thumping of heavy feet, the slamming of bodies and more shouts. Daphne could barely breathe, and tears trickled out the corners of her eyes.
Please, Evander, please.
The house grew quiet around her. Then the bedroom light flicked on.
“Daphne?” It was Evander.
She pulled her head out from under Tigger’s blanket, body still curved protectively around her daughter, then craned her neck to look behind her, counting feet.
Two very large black army boots were in the middle of the room. Just Evander. She sighed in relief and Evander’s face popped into view, his shoulders bulging as he watched from a plank position. Slowly, he lowered his chest to the floor, his biceps rippling under his T-shirt in a way that would have left her in awe if she hadn’t been busy losing her mind with fear.
He cautiously extended his hand, as though to a feral kitten. “Are you two okay?”
She gripped his fingers, snatching them to her as she rolled to face him, placing her back to her still-sleeping daughter.
“Is Tigger in there?”
“Asleep,” Daphne whispered.
“You okay?” He pulled on her arm, gently tugging her out from under the bed as though reeling in a fish. Once she was clear, she threw herself at him, collapsing onto his chest and knocking him onto his butt. His arms wrapped around her as he squeezed her close, his breath ruffling the curls that had fallen over her forehead.
“Everyone accounted for, Evander?” asked an officer from the doorway.
“Yes, sir. Everyone is fine.” He tipped her chin up. “Right?”
She gave a tiny nod, her mouth trembling. He pressed her to his hard chest so she wouldn’t wake Tigger as sobs broke free.
“We’ll give you a minute,” the officer said. “Meet us outside when you’re ready.”
“Roger that,” Evander said.
Daphne burrowed deeper into his arms, protected by his strength.
“We caught the man who broke in,” Evander murmured. “He was riffling through papers in your living room. Came in through the kitchen window.”
Daphne shuddered. A man had broken in, unbeknownst to her, while they were sleeping. What would have happened without Evander and his gadgets?
He stroked her hair and her hiccupy breathing slowly worked its way back to regularity, with only the odd hitch here and there.
“How’d you get here so fast?” she asked.
He ignored the question. “He wasn’t armed and the police have him in custody. I’m sorry.” Evander sounded so grim.
“Why?” She looked up, amazed at how angular his face was from this viewpoint. All sharp lines, but soft, too. Caring. Warm. Safe.
Ridiculous. He was an army man who had served several tours of duty. And his scars? You didn’t get those by sitting behind a desk. This man wasn’t here to comfort her, he was here to take care of problems. She pushed herself out of his arms, feeling small and alone.
“I should have been here,” he said.
“Chuck was on,” she replied, wiping her cheeks dry.
As if feeling her need for space, Evander stood, moving to the doorway. “He was at the local convenience store. He’s been dismissed.” Evander ran a hand briskly down the scarred side of his face. He spied the cardigan she’d left on Tigger’s dresser during story time. “You need a wall safe.”
Daphne stared at the sweater, which she’d been wearing when he’d paid her for the paintings. There was a lot of money in its pocket at the moment. “Do you normally have that much cash on hand?” she asked him. She knew he hadn’t been to the bank between buying the paintings and paying her.
“I was trained to be prepared for anything.”
He was watching her in a way that made her feel nervous. No, not nervous, just…inspected. He was trying to figure something out about her and she wasn’t sure if he was drawing positive conclusions or not.
“The army had a pretty big impact on you, didn’t it?”
“Yes,” he said awkwardly. “But this is…this is real life. It’s good to have money on hand in real life, too.”
He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, making it creak with his size. Daphne had a momentary vision of it collapsing and her daughter being squished. Evander clasped his hands together, elbows on knees.
“What did he want?” Daphne asked, sitting on the opposite end of the bed. “The person who broke in?”
“He was eavesdropping on you in the market today while you were talking to that hippie guy about your plans for the development. You need to start watching what you say and where. Tyrone and I have ideas about this guy and we’re confident someone from Rubicore sent him.”
“Rubicore?” A cold dread settled deep in Daphne’s gut. “It wasn’t Mistral.”
“What are you not telling me?”
“Nothing. I just know Mistral, and that you and everybody are going to assume it was him. He’s not like that. He wouldn’t do this.”
“Well, we’ll put a tail on this guy once he’s released from custody, and find out for sure.”
“They’re going to let him out?”
“Proba
bly.”
“But he just broke into my house in the dead of the night and you saw him spying on me.”
“Yup.” Evander’s hands were clenched together, his knuckles turning white, and she got the feeling he was fighting back something dark and sinister.
“I let you bug my house because I felt…and now it just…” She bit her knuckle, her breath hiccupping again.
Evander, with fluid, easy moves that came from using his body in unpredictable, real life settings rather than in a regimented gym, had an arm around her in seconds. She pushed him away. If she let herself collapse into his strength she’d never be able to stay strong on her own, and would turn into a blabbering puddle of desperate tears and wails, dependent and needy.
“You can’t be a passive participant in your life any longer, Daphne. You have to take action.”
She nodded, not following his logic.
“I mean it. You need to take action like you do with your environmental protests.”
The intense look in his eyes made her throat catch.
“Nobody can stop you when you take charge. But with this whole thing going on, you’ve been allowing yourself to be the passive recipient. It’s real. It’s very real. Take charge. Take the reins. Take control. This is your life. Yours.”
Her lower lip started to tremble, but he didn’t come to her this time. She breathed through the upset, imagining being wrapped in peaceful, loving light, and positive energy.
“I am taking charge,” she said finally. She’d arranged to meet with Mistral several times and could have simply run away after the gun incident. But she didn’t.
The break-in wasn’t about her and Mistral. It was related to the battle her sisters were having with Rubicore.
“You need to step it up. Your ex…” Evander paused and glanced toward the underside of the bed, as though on the lookout for a girl eavesdropping on them “…is working with men who just had someone break in to find out what you have planned against them.”
“Custody and Rubicore are unrelated.”