Love Inspired Suspense March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Protection Detail\Hidden Agenda\Broken Silence (6 page)

She didn't want to think of him as anything more than a police officer. She didn't want to imagine him as a young boy without a home, a teenager without a family. She didn't want to think that he'd once been like one of her kids.

Like her.

She'd spent an entire year getting used to being single after being part of a couple. She'd spent a little more time than that wondering if taking a job as housemother was worth giving up the dreams she'd built with Kane. She'd had no choice. He'd made it really clear that she couldn't do both, and she'd felt called to the job the same way she'd felt called on a mission trip to Africa when she was in college.

She'd tried to explain it, but he'd wanted all of her attention, her time, her love or none of it.

She sighed, and Glory lifted her head, staring at Cassie with what could have been sadness.

“It's a stupid thing to be thinking about, Glory,” she explained, and the dog dropped her head back onto her paws, closing her eyes. She was tired after a hard night's work.

Cassie was tired, too, but she wasn't sorry.

Not for the choice she'd made, not for the sacrifices, not for the life she'd carved out for herself and her kids. She loved her life. She didn't want it to change, but lately she'd been feeling anxious, antsy.

She'd change clothes and check on the kids while Gavin got the coat. That would keep her occupied.

She started toward the door, but Glory lumbered up, settled herself at Cassie's feet.

“I need to get by,” she said, but Glory didn't move.

Cassie stepped to the side. Glory followed.

Obviously, the dog was trying to keep her in the office.

It was just as obvious, she was going to succeed, because Cassie had seen her snarling and angry, and she wasn't going to rile her up.

She settled back into her seat. Glory settled down beside it, resting her big head on giant-size paws.

Footsteps tapped on the steps, and Glory raised her head, looked at the door, her tail thumping happily. Gavin was returning, and Cassie had the horrible feeling that he was bringing change with him, that everything she'd worked for was about to disappear.

She wanted to race down the stairs, get all the kids and Virginia and run as far and as fast as she could.

There was nowhere to go, though.

So she sat and waited as the footsteps drew closer, Glory's tail thumped a little faster, and the churning ache in her stomach intensified.

FIVE

T
hey'd been searching for an hour, and Gavin's mind was ticking off every minute of it. Nothing in the coat closet. Nothing in any of the kids' rooms. Nothing in Cassie's room or in the room of her assistant Virginia.

They finished searching the second level of the house, then searched the lower level where police officers were still processing the scene.

Nothing.

“I don't understand this,” Cassie said, twirling a few strands of hair between her fingers as she opened the trash can in the kitchen. She'd changed out of her bloody clothes and into faded jeans and a black T-shirt and pulled her hair into ponytail that brushed the middle of her back. “A coat doesn't just disappear.”

“It does if someone wears it outside and leaves it there,” he responded. He'd thought about using Glory to find the coat, but there were so many scents in the house, so many people traipsing through that any scent trail had been diluted long ago. For a dog like Glory, that wasn't an ideal tracking situation.

“The kids know the value of a dollar. They wouldn't just leave a coat outside.”

“The mitten was left outside,” he pointed out.

“Accidentally.” She released the strands of hair, and they sprang into a curl that bounced against her jaw. “That's what you're thinking, right? That one of them was outside, saw what happened at Harland's place, got scared and ran?”

“It's the most likely scenario.”

“I know,” she admitted as she opened the pantry and glanced inside. “I wish I didn't. I'd prefer to think that the kids are all safe here.”

“They will be.”

“You can't guarantee that, Gavin. Look what happened tonight. There was a police officer here, and someone still managed to get in.”

“Trust me. Capitol K-9 can keep you safe, and we will.”

“I hope so,” she responded.

She closed the pantry door, then brushed what looked like flour off her jeans. “But I'm thinking that my best plan is to pack up the van and head out of town.”

“Will CPS let you do that?” he asked, knowing she needed special permission to do it.

“I'm not sure that I care.”

“Of course you do.”

She sighed. “You're right. I guess I can put in a security system.”

“Glory is a built-in security system.”

“Are you suggesting I get a dog?” She crossed the kitchen, walked out into the hall. “I think we should look on the third floor. The kids usually don't go up there, but we've searched everywhere else.”

“Sounds good, and I'm not suggesting anything. I'm telling you how it's going to be.”

“What are you talking about?” She turned, pausing three steps up. They were eye to eye, and he could see flecks of gold in her irises, see the edges of the bruise that seemed to be deepening with every minute that passed.

“You need to ice that.” He touched the spot, and she flinched. He wasn't sure if it was from pain or surprise.

“Are you trying to change the subject?”

“Just making an observation.”

“Observation noted.” She started back up the stairs. “So how about you answer my question? How, exactly, are things going to be?”

“You and the kids are going to have twenty-four hour protection until we find the guy who was here tonight.”

“You can't be serious.” She reached the second floor and headed up to the next level.

“I told you Capitol K-9 would keep you all safe. I meant it.”

“I know, and I'm all about being safe. But...”

“What?”

“I can't believe your department would want to spend the money on twenty-four hour protection.” She bypassed her office, heading to the end of the hall. The storage room was there. Gavin had spent a lot of time in that room as a teen, going through boxes, looking at things left behind by other kids.

“Can you think of anything more worthy of our resources?” he asked as he walked into the large room. It looked nearly the same as it had when he was a teen, boxes stacked up against the walls, a few pieces of furniture cluttering the area.

“
I
can't, but I figured your boss might be able to.” She shimmied between a love seat and a coffee table, frowned. “Just what I thought.”

“You found the coat?”

“I found Destiny's stockpile of food.” She lifted several apples and two juice boxes from the floor.

“We need the coat.”

“I was hoping that would be here, too. A couple of the kids like to hide stuff up here. I guess they think it will be safer than their rooms. We can check the library, too. I use it for time-outs, but sometimes the kids spend time there when they want to be alone.”

“That's what you're calling it now?”

“Calling what?” She led the way to a room sandwiched between the offices.

“The library. When I lived here, it was the consequence room.” He'd never had to spend much time there. He'd been too thankful to be in a home, too happy to have a safe place to sleep, food in his stomach and an adult who cared.

“You mentioned that before.”

“That I lived here? It's not a secret.” It also wasn't something that he shared often. He'd shared the information with Cassie, because he wanted to create a bond, bridge the gap of her distrust and, hopefully, encourage her to open up a little.

“Is that why you volunteer at All Our Kids every time we have a work day?”

“One of the reasons.”

“What are the others?”

“Those,” he said as she walked into the library and flicked on a light, “are a secret.”

“A man of mystery, huh?”

“No mystery,” he replied. “I'm just a man who keeps some things close to the cuff.”

She cocked her head to the side. “I see.”

“What?” he asked, more curious than he wanted to be. More curious than he probably should be.

“You suffer from the same disease as my kids.”

“What's that?”

“Distrust.”

“I'd say that your kids and I aren't the only ones who suffer from it,” he pointed out. “You haven't been all that enthusiastic about working with me.”

“It has nothing to do with working with you, Gavin. I just have a thing about sharing information with people.” She shrugged, stepping away from the door so that he could move into the room.

“I rest my case,” he responded as he walked past her. The room was smaller than he remembered, the lone window looking out over the backyard. Bookshelves stood against each wall. Three beanbag chairs sat in the center of the floor, multicolored and well-worn. No pictures on the walls, but the space still managed to look comfortable and inviting.

“All right.” She laughed nervously. “You win. Now, how about we get back to what we're here for?”

She gestured to a bright yellow beanbag chair that was half-covered with a pile of black fabric. “Looks like we've found the missing coat.”

He lifted the fabric, looked at the puffy black coat. “This is David's?”

“It is.” She didn't take the coat, just found one of the pockets and then the other, her hand brushing his arm, her hair brushing his chin. They were so close he could feel the heat of her body, feel the tension in her muscles. She was acting relaxed, but she was nervous, edgy. She dug deeper into the second pocket, pulled out a blue mitten and held it up triumphantly. “Success! Finally!”

“We can't call it a success until we find out who was wearing this tonight,” he pointed out, and she scowled.

“You want some advice, Gavin?” she asked, lifting the hem of the coat and pulling a bit of down stuffing from a tear she found there.

“I'm not sure,” he admitted. The last time he'd gotten advice from a woman, it had been screamed at him in the parking lot of his apartment building at three in the morning. Helena hadn't been pleased that he'd missed her birthday dinner, and she'd been more than happy to let everyone in the neighborhood know it.

“You do,” she insisted. “So, I'm going to give it to you. Next time, allow a girl some time to celebrate her success before you go and shoot her down.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” he assured her, amused by her comment and by the hint of laughter in her eyes.

“Good.” She fingered the tear. “This wasn't here when David wore the coat earlier today. I guess whoever wore it was hoping it wouldn't be found for a while. He probably thought the weather would warm up, and the evidence of his midnight romp through the woods wouldn't be noticed for months.”

“You're assuming it was a boy.”

“Destiny is too big for the coat. Rachel is afraid of the dark, and there's no way she'd have gone outside at night. Lila would have been dragging the hem. Since the hem is torn, but not dirty, I'd say she wasn't the one wearing it. The kid who took it was definitely a boy.” She dropped onto a pink beanbag chair, stretched her legs out in front of her. “And he is definitely in trouble.”

“For ripping the coat or for leaving the house?”

He expected her to say both, but she shook her head. “I'm not worried about the transgressions, Gavin. I'm worried about what he saw and who might have seen him. I can't let anything happen to these kids. They've already been through so much.”

“Nothing is going to happen to them. We'll find out who went outside, what he saw, and we'll find our suspect.”

“It may not be that easy.” She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She could have passed for one of the kids, her dark red ponytail wild and curly, the knees of her jeans torn. “These kids aren't your average kids. They've been hurt by so many people that they think that's all life has to offer. They have walls and boundaries and a million coping mechanisms.”

“I know,” he said simply, because he did. He'd been a kid just like that. He knew all about hurts so deep they felt like they'd never heal. He knew about being betrayed by people who should have been trustworthy. He knew about walls built so thick and so tall that it seemed impossible to tear them down.

“That's what everyone says. Until they have to deal with one of my kids.” She sighed, pushed herself up from the beanbag chair and nearly toppled sideways as she tried to right herself.

He grabbed her waist, holding her steady as she caught her balance. He felt warm flesh beneath soft cotton, felt the quiet hitch of her breath.

“Oops!” she murmured, stepping away, her cheeks bright red. “Sorry about that.”

“About what?”

“Nearly taking us both down.”

“You weren't even close to doing that.”

“Right. Okay.” She turned, strode toward the door. “I'll go get Tommy.”

“Is he top on the list of suspects?” he asked before she could disappear from view.

She stopped and stood for a moment without saying a word. She was uncomfortable with Gavin. He sensed the undercurrent of that in the air. He thought it was because he was a police officer, but he didn't ask. Whatever her reasons, she was going to have to deal with them. Until the perp was brought in, they'd be spending a lot of time together.

“I think,” she finally said, “that a suspect is someone who might have committed a crime. Tommy isn't a criminal. He's a good kid who makes some really bad choices. If I were going to choose one out of the seven who'd have taken someone else's coat and gone on a midnight jaunt, I'd choose him. That doesn't mean he did it. It just means that he's proven he's more than capable of it. I'll bring him to my office. If you want to wait for us there, that would be great.”

He'd been dismissed, and he didn't like it.

Too bad what he liked or didn't had no bearing on his job. He had a goal and a mission. Harland deserved better than unanswered questions. He deserved justice for himself and for his son. Cassie might be uncomfortable with Gavin, her kids might have walls built up to the heavens, but Gavin wasn't going anywhere until he had the information he needed. He wasn't backing down until he had what he wanted.

It was the way he worked. It was why he was good at what he did. And, it was why he had absolute confidence that they'd find the murderer. Eventually.

* * *

The kids weren't cooperating.

Cassie didn't have to be a genius to figure that out.

Tommy had been mute, not answering any of Gavin's questions except with vigorous head shakes. Destiny had been sarcastic. Kent and Axel had talked a mile a minute about nothing and everything. Blocks. Legos. School. They'd led Gavin on a merry chase, going down one conversational tangent after another.

To his credit, he'd been patient, kind, even a little amused. Now, he looked tired, the shadow of a beard staining his jaw as he listened to Rachel describe the bad man with the gun who'd tried to kill Cassie.

It was one of the best tall tales Cassie had ever heard Rachel tell.

“Rachel, you were upstairs when that happened,” she reminded her gently, because it never did any good to be hard on Rachel. She'd learned to lie to cover abuse and to keep herself from being abused more. It would take a lot more than the six months Rachel had been with Cassie for that habit to be broken.

Rachel frowned, her cheeks going bright red. “I forgot.”

“It's okay.” Gavin smiled, and Rachel's big brown eyes widened. Cassie could almost see the stars dancing in them. “What I'm really wondering,” he continued, “is whether or not you heard anything before that bad guy came in your house? Maybe a lot earlier. Before Cassie screamed and the police came?”

“Well...” Her eyes shifted to the side, and Cassie's heart jumped. No doubt about it, that was the right question to ask. There was also no doubt that Rachel
had
heard something. Whether or not they could get the information out of her remained to be seen. “I... Maybe. I don't remember.”