The brutal workout the previous evening had been a way to vent his frustrations about the job and his role in the household. He wasn’t used to failing at anything, at being anything less than the top man on a mission. The military psychologist had explained that his drive to be the best stemmed from the way that he’d lost his family. He was compensating. William had always viewed it as busting his butt to succeed so he could live up to his personal standard, but he was in over his head with Cora, the girls, and the unknown assailant who threatened them. And it had him on edge.
The girls rushed back into the room. “Can we watch Frozen tonight?”
“If that’s what you want, remember what I said about being good.” He got three serious nods. On his way from the room, he touched Cora’s arm, letting his fingers linger against her soft skin for a second, needing that contact with her.
After an uneventful security day, William was happy to stretch his legs out in the living room and watch a movie with the kids. He took a glance at the girls next to him on the sofa whose rapt attention was focused on the screen where Queen Elsa hugged her sister Princess Anna, defrosting her after inadvertently freezing her when Anna saved Elsa’s life.
That’s what Cora liked about this film and other classics. They set good examples and taught lessons. She’d explained that Frozen was a great sister film. He gave her a smile over the girls’ heads at the key sisterly moments of love and sacrifice, understanding why she approved of this movie.
When the final credits played, all three girls bounced on the sofa, yelling, “Again.”
“Not tonight,” Cora said, getting up. “Bedtime. Upstairs, my little princesses.”
Reluctantly, the three headed for the steps with Paige trailing behind due to her cast.
“I’ll help.” William stood.
“I’ve got it,” Cora said quickly. “Since we did baths earlier, it’ll be quick. Why don’t you pour me a glass of wine?”
“I can—”
“Seriously, relax for a bit.” Her tone was pleasant but threaded through it was a note letting him know not to defy her order.
He opened a bottle of Merlot he found in the wine cabinet, unable to shake two conflicting ideas. One was that he wanted to be part of the girls’ lives. He’d missed bath and bedtime, sharing meals with them, rough housing on the floor. He liked being part of their family, he like the pseudo dad role he’d assumed. Not something he ever expected of himself, but there it was.
The other idea went back to those feelings he’d had in the nursery that morning. Maybe he wasn’t good at being a father and that was why Cora had pushed his offer of help away. As he walked back to the living room, he was surrounded by worry. Maybe he wasn’t good enough to do the simple things a parent did for children. He had no example to mimic. He remembered his own parents in dim snatches—holidays, birthdays, vacations. The day-to-day parenting they must have done was lost to him. He wasn’t equipped for parenting, and Cora was letting him know that.
“Whew!” Cora came down the stairs and plopped on the end of the couch. “It was another roller-coaster day.” He handed her the wine. “Thanks. I need it.” She took a sip and patted the couch next to her.
He sat, leaving a space between them. “I could have put them to bed. If you trusted me to, that is.”
“Trust you?” She sat up straighter. “I thought we got over that a long time ago. Of course, I trust you. You’ve kept us safe, haven’t you?”
Barely. “Yeah, but—”
“Listen, William. I can’t do what you do. I can’t run surveillance, or research perpetrators, or fight off some thug who might come after the girls. That’s all on you. I’m trying to give you the space to do your job and balance that with the fact that the girls want to spend time with you.”
“You’re right. The job comes first. It has to,” he agreed with her, which he thought was what she wanted, but it didn’t explain the flicker of hurt that crossed her face. God, women were tough to read. He wished he had a clue what she really wanted from him, what she thought of him. “I’ll catch this guy, and then you’ll be free.” All he could do was finish the job, eliminate the threat. That would have to make her happy since it would take the girls out of jeopardy. The four of them could go on with their lives.
“That’s the most important thing,” she said, but he couldn’t make sense of her tone.
A cry from Haley through the monitor stopped their conversation. They waited a minute to see if she’d settle, but the sobbing soon had him getting to his feet, but she jumped up more quickly.
“Cora, let me. I’ll sing her a lullaby.” He’d missed doing that and found himself humming the tunes while he watched security footage.
“You’ll wake the others. Besides, dealing directly with the kids is my priority, not yours. I’ll be back down in a minute.”
He watched her go up the stairs and longed to go with her. The need to prove himself to her had him putting his foot on the step, but he withdrew it. She didn’t want him. She’d made that clear. He downed half his wine and took the rest with him to the office. He had hours of video to watch. That, apparently, she trusted him to do.
Twenty-Three
Cora looked at the ceiling and counted slowly to ten. The girls were so sweet most of the time. Not today. Some of what happened wasn’t their fault. Sometimes, cups of water get knocked over while using watercolors, toothpaste gets in children’s hair, the ironing board falls out of its cupboard and clocks you on the head. All these events happen. Just not within an hour of each other. Add in kids having a testy day and it was a recipe for disaster.
Aspirin. Aspirin would help. Cora reached in the cabinet and pulled out the bottle. She gave it a shake. Empty. She popped the lid and looked inside. Nothing. Turning, she pitched the bottle across the kitchen where it bounced off the trash can. A collective gasp went up from the kids who were playing “Find the Cheerios” after a bowl of them hit the floor and scattered.
“Cora threw stuff,” Paige stage whispered. “We’re not supposed to do that.”
The other girls gave Cora looks she thought only schoolteachers had perfected. Disappointment and annoyance.
“I’m upset,” Cora said, forcing herself to use a calm voice. “But I shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t smart of me.” She tried to set a positive example, and usually succeeded, but this was one of the moments where if this was a household with two adults providing childcare, she’d get to walk out of the room. Walk out of the house. Take a breath and refocus.
That wasn’t possible with William the warrior circling the perimeter like he was protecting the Holy Grail. She wasn’t allowed out of the house nor was there someone to take her place. The first one irritated her much more than the second. After promising they could get out of the house today, William had declared the need for an extensive survey of the property before she or the girls could even open a door.
She reviewed in her head the conversation from an hour ago. He’d argued that they were “safest” in the house. And since she’d been harried and irritable already, she’d fired back that they’d nearly been blown to bits in the house by a gas leak. The house was no safer than anywhere else when someone was committed to harming them.
He’d stalked out, vowing to double down on security, inside and out. Her fault, she recognized, because she’d baited him. Since their movie night, he’d increased the distance between himself and them, focusing more and more on his work. She recognized he had to, but it didn’t make the situation any more palatable.
She looked at the three little faces at her feet. They deserved more of a life than this. She wanted to take them to swim lessons again and enroll them in dance class. William had nixed both without even listening to her arguments.
“Let’s get you washed up,” she said, dragging a stepstool to the kitchen sink. One at a time, she helped them wash their hands and didn’t even blink when soapy water got flung in her eye. “Naptime.”
“It’s too early.
We always play after snack,” Paige pointed out.
“Shush,” Melody whispered to her sister. Thank goodness for perceptive children. This one understood that sometimes naps had to be a little early, and this was one of those days. Melody led the way upstairs and set the example by climbing into her crib. She truly was a lovely child. They all were in their own ways. She loved them—deeply and truly.
But right now, Cora needed just a little break. As she returned to the first floor, prepared to round up the remaining Cheerios, she ran smack into William. His hands gripped her arms, steadying her, but she shook him off, her anger from earlier unabated.
“I was coming to tell you that it’s safe to take them out in the yard now. Everything checks out.” William said this as if she would be grateful to him.
“Thanks,” she couldn’t keep the snarky tone from her voice, “but you’re too late. They’re napping.”
“Sorry.” He managed a sympathetic look. “I know it’s tough keeping them cooped up like this, but until—”
“Tough? Do you think I care about how difficult this is for me?” She grabbed his arm then and steered him into the rarely used formal dining room, closing the doors firmly behind them, not wanting little ears to overhear the argument as they had earlier that day. “You made a promise to them this morning that you didn’t keep.”
“I didn’t promise anything,” he started.
“Oh, really? Because I distinctly heard you tell them over the monitor that they could play outside.” He’d spent about two minutes in the nursery while she was getting dressed. They’d begged and he’d relented.
“It wasn’t a promise.”
“To a three-year-old it would have sounded like one. I thought you’d have figured that out by now.” She paced away from him and returned, her anger expanding. “You know what? Why would I think that? Why would I think after weeks of living in this household you’d understand their feelings? You’re not their father. You’re not anyone to them. So, it’s perfectly fine to lie to them.”
“I didn’t lie. I don’t lie.” William gripped the back of a chair, clenching so tight his knuckles turned white. “And, yeah, I’m not their father. I don’t intuitively get children. But you aren’t their mother either. We’re not some kind of family. We’re both here doing a job, getting paid for our services.”
If he’d shot her through the heart, it would have hurt less. She looked away from him, fighting back tears, staunching the emotions that overwhelmed her. He was right, of course. This was technically a job for her. As guardian, she had a right to spend as much money from the Lawrences’ accounts as was needed to take care of the girls—but she wasn’t permitted to spend any of it on herself. That was just the way the law worked. Knowing that, the Lawrences had set up a separate account to continue paying her regular salary—with increases to keep up with inflation—so that she wouldn’t have to find another job to cover her expenses. As a result, money went into her bank account every month. But that wasn’t her motivation. When she looked at the girls, she didn’t see little dollar signs. They were children who were hers to raise and mold. It was a responsibility she carried not for the financial benefit, but because she loved them and wanted to take care of them.
He’d gotten one thing right though. They weren’t a family. It had started to feel as though they were, but that had been wishful thinking on her part. Unfortunately, she’d let herself and the girls be hurt by it.
“That’s true. It is a job, and we are definitely not family.” She watched his expression harden as she enunciated the word family. “So, let’s agree that you do your job, and I’ll do mine. We’ll grant each other the courtesy of not interfering with the other’s responsibilities.”
* * *
“Fine,” William agreed to her terms, more convinced than ever that she was shoving him away with both hands, one marked personal and one marked professional. He hadn’t bargained for any type of involvement from this mission. Embarking on a relationship with her and one with the girls had been a mistake.
Well, he was a soldier who knew when to retreat. He waited for her to leave the dining room and then made his way back to the office to review footage. That was his job, after all. He would do it well and then leave. Move onto the next assignment where he’d keep his professional distance.
He closed the blinds to see the nighttime feed better and settled into his chair, trying to shake off the emotions resulting from the argument with Cora. He had to backtrack twice because he lost his focus, reliving what she’d said, but also fighting the loss of what he thought had been developing between them.
He took a break, leaned back in his chair. Nothing in his training had prepared him for this assignment—for the impact it would have on him, for the feelings of family it would inspire. He had to staunch those. It wasn’t meant to be, so he couldn’t let himself desire it. The only thing he could do for Cora and the girls was find the person threatening them.
He focused in on the job, working his way through hours of footage, examining individual frames if something caught his eye. Two hours later, he froze a frame, enlarging a corner of it. It was from the day the warning letter appeared in the mailbox. Just barely visible was the distinctive taillight of a Maserati Gran Turismo along with the last two digits of a license plate.
The Lawrences’ home was in an upscale neighborhood, but the only Maserati William had seen in that make and model belonged to Francis Kelp. William made a call to Alert Security where they verified Kelp’s plate ended in those numbers. The cousin had known they were away from the house from Cora’s text.
Gotcha! William thought. The video was from ten minutes after the text. Kelp knew no one was home, giving him an opportunity to drop off the letter unseen. What else fit? William considered the various incidents. The stranger in the park, the trampoline sabotage, the attempted kidnapping. A red flag popped in his head. Kelp knew where they were that day, as well. Cora had exchanged texts with him. The pieces of the puzzle began to fit into place.
William took a look at the financial information in the dossier again and the copy of the Lawrences’ will. An idea formed in his head, and after a couple more calls, a motive became apparent. Kelp received a generous one-time payment from the business for the software he’d created, but he lived an extravagant lifestyle. What if he was the one skimming money from the business? What if the Lawrences suspected that and feared what Kelp was capable of? Had Kelp turned even more greedy, driving him to hatch an elaborate plan? Kill the Lawrences, making it look like an accident, so the kids would inherit. Then, he had to get rid of the girls.
If they died, probate court would likely award the fortune to the closest relative. And that would be Francis Kelp. It was a devious and malicious plan, but Kelp was motivated by several million reasons. William made another call and talked to Alert’s head financial investigator who agreed with William’s guesses and promised to look into it more closely.
Anger rose inside William. He’d let Kelp in the house, seen him interact with Cora, all while that piece of garbage was plotting the girls’ deaths. Kelp was going down.
Twenty-Four
William checked his watch. 1600 hours. He’d lost track of the day as he unraveled the mystery behind the attacks and began forming a plan to catch Kelp. He needed to run parts of the plan by Cora since it involved her and the girls. He wasn’t sure how receptive she’d be after their fight earlier.
He’d said some ugly words, false ones that he knew hurt her—that he’d said for the whole purpose of hurting her. Later, he’d find a way to apologize. He owed her that much, but the mission came first. Not locating Cora and the girls on any of the cameras, he walked into the hall and listened.
Delighted squeals came from below his feet. They must be in the basement again. He went through the kitchen to the stairs, the noise getting louder. He found the girls playing with a yard bowling set on the basement floor. Soon, he promised himself, nothing would prevent them from going outside
. If his plan worked—and it would.
Cora reset the pins as the girls rolled balls that knocked them down. William took a minute to watch. Haley’s roll went wild, zinging into the corner, but the other two knocked down half the pins between them. When they saw him, they waved and smiled in his direction. He was so damn glad he’d figured out who was threatening them. Soon, the danger would be neutralized, and they’d be able to grow up and be happy. He could give them that.
“I need to talk to you?” He caught Cora after she’d reset the pins.
“We’re in the middle of a game.” Her tone wasn’t unfriendly nor was it encouraging. “Can’t it wait?”
“No.”
“Fine,” she muttered. “Melody, you get to take my job for two rounds and then you can rotate.”
He pulled her away from the girls so they wouldn’t hear him. “It’s Francis,” he said in a low voice.
“What?”
“He’s the one trying to harm the girls.”
Her eyes widened in shock. Before she could ask questions, he explained the evidence he’d uncovered, including the motive of money.
“Bob never did like him, but this is…what are you going to do?”
“That’s why I had to speak with you now. I have an idea to draw Francis out. We’ll need to use the girls as bait, put them someplace where he’ll think he can get at—”
“Are you insane?” She stopped him, her voice dangerously low. “You’re going to use them,” she pointed to the girls who still gleefully bowled, “as bait? You are intentionally going to put them in harm’s way? Over my dead body, William.”
“They’ll be safe,” he explained, assuming that Cora simply didn’t understand his plan. “I’ll nab Francis before he can get to them.”
“No,” she huffed out. “I won’t let you. No way. I can’t believe you’d even consider this.”
The SEAL’s Unexpected Triplets Page 16