Forever Hers (7 page)

A look she couldn’t define crossed his face. Horror? Disbelief mixed with revulsion? She wasn’t sure.

“I see,” he mumbled.

Insulted by his reaction, Amy got up and moved closer. Usually she got that reaction
after
she explained what she wrote, not before.

“From your expression, I think you misunderstood. I said I’m an author, not a serial rapist. What do you have against authors?”

“Nothing.”

“So you say, but your face said something else. FYI, last time I checked, it was a perfectly respectable profession.”

“I’m sure it is. I’ll be outside. Call me when it’s time to leave.”

He started toward the back door, but she was faster. She blocked his path, not intimidated by his frosty glare. “Now you’ve made me curious. What do you have against authors? I mean, what sane person could possibly hate people who entertain and educate billions of people
and
preserve our history?”

He rolled his eyes.

She couldn’t believe he actually rolled his eyes. His attitude just rubbed her the wrong way. “Do you know where the world would be without the written word? Back to the dark ages and crude sketches on walls. We measure civilization by how many resources is devoted to the creative arts.”

“No, by how we treat the weakest and most vulnerable members of our society.”

He had a point, but she wasn’t about to concede. “Bull. Talk to any anthropologist, Mr. Know-it-all. They study artifacts and writings left behind by ancient civilizations to measure how advanced the people were.”

“That’s because there are no people left behind for them to study. Go to any country right now. You don’t look at what they produce and export. You study how they treat their people.”

He was right, damn it. “You are talking politics now, and I hate politics. And you are being a hypocrite.”

He smiled smugly as though he knew he’d won the argument. “How?”

She pointed at the book in his hand. “Unless you plan to beat some dictator with it, I won. Books are important,
ergo
authors are too. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a chapter to finish.”

“Mommy?”

Amy whipped around to find Raelynn by the wall, her eyes wide with fear. “Hey, honey.”

“Are you fighting with Mr. Eddie?” Her thumb slipped in her mouth.

“No, sweetie.” Amy hurried to her daughter’s side. “We were discussing my book, like I usually do with Aunt Lauren.”

“But you’re not laughing.”

Amy looked at Eddie and forced a smile. “We will once he starts reading what I wrote today. It’s so funny,” she added in a whisper.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. I’ll print out the pages for him after we come back from grocery shopping.” She eased the thumb from Raelynn’s mouth and kissed her forehead. “Are you hungry?”

Raelynn nodded. “Are we going to Farmers Market?”

“Not today, sweetheart, but we’ll stop by the bridge for some ice cream.” Amy walked Raelynn to the kitchen, rinsed an apple and sliced it.

She usually bought their fruit and vegetables from the local Farmers Market. And although she preferred shopping on Wednesdays when it was less crowded, she would give today a miss because of their guest.

“Can I get cotton candy ice cream?” The sparkle was back in Raelynn’s eyes as she munched on an apple slice.

“Hmm, didn’t you get it last time?”

Raelynn giggled. “Yes. Cotton candy is my favorite.”

“Mine is mint chocolate chip, but I try new ones every time we visit.”

“I like cotton candy the best,” Raelynn insisted, pouting.

“Then finish your apple, so we can get going before all the cotton candy ice cream disappears.” She was aware of Eddie watching them from the living room. She gave him a pointed look. Her opinion of him just dropped down several notches. It was obvious some faceless author did something to turn him against authors. Or maybe it was women authors he had a problem with. The book he was reading had a man’s name on its cover.

“We’ll leave in a few minutes,” Amy said, lifting her daughter from the stool. “You can follow us.”

***

Eddie stayed behind Amy’s station wagon all the way to the grocery store, the exchange between them still ringing in his head. Discovering she was an author had blind-sided him, bringing back the past with vengeance. For one brief moment, the line had blurred and instead of Amy, he’d seen his mother—a sought after author and a motivational speaker.

Images from the day she left flashed through his head. His mother carrying suitcases to the taxi. Kissing him goodbye. His father watching her in disbelief. Lori, his baby sister, screaming on top of her lungs as the taxi pulled away. Twenty fucking years and the pain refused to leave him. The betrayal still cut deep.

Squinting, Eddie pushed the past aside again. Thinking about it wasn’t going to change a damn thing. The bottom line was Amy wasn’t his mother. From what he’d seen, she doted on her daughter.
 

Eddie pulled up beside her car as she stepped out from behind the wheel then reached in the back to unbuckle Raelynn. He was about to join them when a police car drove past. Raelynn whimpered, turned and grabbed her mother’s legs. Amy, chalk white, squatted down and hugged her daughter.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “Mommy’s here. You’re safe.”

What the hell? Eddie moved closer, not understanding. Raelynn still clung to her mother. “Is everything okay?”

“Come on, honey,” Amy whispered, ignoring him. “It’s okay.”

It took several more minutes before Raelynn left the comfort of her mother’s arms and looked behind her. “They’re gone.”

“Yes, they are.” Amy’s gaze connected with Eddie’s, daring him to ask questions.

He kept his mouth shut, but he couldn’t help but wonder why a child would react like that to the police.

Inside the store, Eddie pushed the cart while Raelynn skipped alongside her mother and helped fill it, the incident in the parking lot all but forgotten. Amy was quiet, shaking her head whenever her daughter chose an item she didn’t approve of. Most kids would throw a fit if they didn’t get their way, but not Raelynn. She put the candy and snack boxes back with a sigh and a glance filled with longing, then went back to her skipping.

An older woman coming toward them smiled. “What an adorable little girl.”

“Thank you,” Amy said.

Raelynn gave her a shy smile and kept going. No signs of fear. The only time she slowed down and moved to her mother’s side was when a man crossed their path, but her reaction wasn’t as extreme like when she’d seen the cops.

“Such a lovely family,” the woman added to Eddie and moved on before he could correct her. His unease must have shown when his gaze met Amy’s.

“Unless you want to explain, just let it go.” The next aisle was the frozen food section. Amy consulted his list and chuckled. “Whipped cream and three tubs of ice cream.
You
have a sweet tooth.”

“Whipped cream for the strawberries and three tubs for all of us. Rocky road for me, cotton candy for Raelynn and mint chocolate chip or whatever you fancy for you.”

“You shouldn’t spend money on us.”

Eddie ignored her, his attention on Raelynn. The little girl stood stiffly in the middle of the aisle that ran perpendicular to the one they were on. “Is Raelynn okay?”

Before Amy could respond, two policemen in uniform walked past Raelynn. She continued to stare straight ahead with the same petrified expression she’d worn in the parking lot.

One second Amy was beside him, the next she was picking up Raelynn, who clutched her neck with a deathlike grip. She spoke softly to the child again, her expression horrified.

Eddie hurried toward them. Fury had replaced horror on Amy’s face by the time he reached their side.

“Is everything okay?” Eddie asked.

Amy shook her head. “I need to take her outside. Could you finish here, please?” She struggle to pull out her wallet from her purse while carrying the child.

He gripped her arm. “I have this covered.”

“I have some money—”

“Take care of Raelynn, Amy.” He squeezed her hand. “We’ll sort out the details later.”

She hesitated then nodded and hurried toward the entrance, the child too tall for her smaller frame. Eddie stared at them and shook his head.

What the hell was going on? Eddie had never seen a child react like that to a police officer. And the look on Amy’s face had surprised him. For a split second after she picked up her daughter, he’d seen fear in her eyes.

He threw tubs of whipped cream and ice cream in the cart and raced toward the checkout stands. Outside, he was surprised to see the hood of Amy’s car popped up. She was checking the engine while Raelynn sat in the front passenger seat with all the doors open for ventilation. Since they were parked side by side, he pulled the cart between their cars and joined her.

“What happened?” he asked.

Amy came from behind the hood and wiped her brow. “The car won’t start and I can’t figure out what’s wrong with it.”

“I can take a look at it. Meanwhile, the two of you should move into my car. It’s like an oven out here.”

“It’s been a lot hotter than usual the last week,” she said absentmindedly while glancing around the parking lot.

Not sure how to respond to that, Eddie entered his SUV, started the engine and cranked up the AC. When he turned around, Amy was still studying the parking lot as though searching for someone. The police? When she noticed him watching her, she gathered their things from the front seat of her car.

“Do you need the booster seat?” he asked.

“I’ll get it,” Amy said firmly.

The woman gave a new meaning to the word independent. Ignoring her, he opened the back door of her car and released metal clamps holding the booster seat. He placed it in the back of his SUV, snapped it in place and stepped back. Mother and daughter stared at him with identical expressions. Both of them had serious trust issues. He indicated the opened door and arched an eyebrow.

“Thanks,” Amy said, clutching her bag and her daughter’s hand.

“No problem.” While putting groceries in the back, he followed their conversation. The little girl was as stubborn as her mother, but she couldn’t resist the cool interior of the SUV and she allowed her mother to buckle her in. He wasn’t surprised when Amy went back to the hood of her car.

“May I?” he asked. She was so prickly about everything he had to tread carefully.

She stepped aside, albeit reluctantly.

Eddie put down the battery tester he’d retrieved from his car and checked the battery terminal connections first. They were corroded. After a bit of cleaning, he glanced at Amy. “Try to start it.”

Not even the click-click sound of a dead battery. He tested the battery, but it seemed fine. “It’s either a bad ignition switch or starter connection,” Eddie said. “You need a mechanic to take a look at it.”

Amy closed her eyes and blew out a breath. “Exactly what I need now.”

“Did you already call for roadside assistance?”

She shook her head, then she said defensively, “I, uh, don’t have a service plan.”

“Then who are you looking for?”

Color bleached from her face. “Nobody.”

Eddie sighed, pulled his Nationwide Road Assistance card out of his wallet and showed her. “Do you mind if I use mine?”

“Let me know how much I owe you later.”

Eddie shook his head. Stubborn. Proud. Opinionated. He actually admired those traits in her even though at the moment, everything she did bugged him. He punched in numbers on his cell phone and waited for the dispatcher, his gaze not leaving her.

Call it his cop instinct or whatever, but she and her daughter were acting like fugitives. Her dyed hair might even be tie into it. The problem was he couldn’t imagine this particular woman breaking the law. She was direct and honest to a fault. On the other hand, her weakness was her daughter. What if she was on the run because of Raelynn? Maybe the husband got custody and she disagreed with the court’s ruling. He’d seen enough cases of abuse, where one parent was denied custody and took matters into her or his hands. Could this be the real reason his aunt had sent him to Sandpoint? To help Amy?

***

Amy could feel Eddie’s eyes on her. Humiliation upon humiliation had turned her into a bitch and she was taking out her frustration on poor Eddie. At one time, she’d had more allowance than she knew what to do with it. Wasted it away on parties and her friends. Now, she pinched pennies and could hardly afford to buy her daughter treats. She couldn’t even charge anything because she didn’t have a credit card. Fear of Nolan tracing it back to her had been more important.

What good did that do to her? Zilch. He still found them.

Amy shuddered and searched the parking lot again. A glimpse of a man at the end of the aisle was all she had. Same tan cargo pants, navy-blue shirt under a black leather jacket and a red baseball hat, Nolan’s signature outfit when off duty. She had rushed outside praying she had been mistaken.