The Kid Who Stole Christmas (14 page)

She then strode out of the store, feeling rather proud of herself. Except for Rick’s getting carted off to jail, it had been a good day so far. Her former employee had given her a clue to follow up on, and she had insulted a Bayer.

No wonder Rick had been so jumpy. Worse than his going and getting himself arrested, though, at least as far as Shannon was concerned, was that he hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her about the restraining order—and whatever incident had prompted Angela to acquire it. She had thought all along that there were things he was hiding from her.

What other surprises sat waiting to jump out at her? Shannon was tempted to leave him behind bars until he told her every last one of his secrets. In fact, she might not have any choice. At this time of year, it could take a while for her to arrange bail for him, especially considering she had never done such a thing before.

Paul would know how, though. He might even be pressed into accompanying her to the police station, if he wasn’t already standing in for Rick on Santa duty, that is. Regardless, she would have to touch base with her department and let them know where she would be.

That would be fun. She could see it all now. “Hello, everyone. I’m off to get Santa out of jail. Don’t wait up.”

Chapter Twelve

T
o call any big-city police precinct house a zoo was to do a disservice to animals everywhere. Its human counterpart was much less civilized, even at Christmastime.

Although the experience was depressing, it made Shannon see her own situation in a different light. No matter how badly things were going, they could always get worse. She thanked her lucky stars for what was a far better life than many people would ever know.

Paul hadn’t been able to leave the store, but he had helped all he could, putting Shannon in contact with some police friends of his and a good bail bondsman. Even then, it was nearing five and dark outside when Rick emerged from the holding-cell area. He signed for his belongings, had a short conversation with the bondsman, then approached Shannon where she stood waiting for him in the precinct lobby.

The first thing Shannon noticed was that there was a bruise on his right cheekbone and a cut on his lip. Some blood from that cut had dried on the lapel of his chamomile-colored shirt. He looked tired and dispirited.

“Good Lord! What happened to you?”

Rick managed a small smile. “One of my cell mates took exception to this prissy yellow shirt,” he replied. “He thought it might mean I would be an easy target. He was wrong.” He held up his right hand, which had gauze wrapped around the knuckles. “As the saying goes, you should see the other guy. Luckily, the guard didn’t cite me for fighting or I’d still be in that cell.”

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Shannon had parked her car in a nearby lot. She led the way in silence. Obviously, Rick was capable of violence. But that came as no surprise to her; most human beings were, given the right set of circumstances. And defending oneself against a jailhouse bully certainly qualified.

When they got to the car, Shannon stopped, then suddenly turned and gave Rick a big hug. It surprised him totally at first, but then he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her, sighing deeply. Finally, she let him go.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“I just felt like it,” Shannon replied. “Now, stand still, because I also feel like smacking you on the nose.”

Rick held his hands up in front of his face, palms out. “Pass.” he said. “I’ve taken enough cheap shots for one day, thank you very much.”

“This one is well deserved. Why didn’t you tell me she had a restraining order against you?”

His shoulders sagged. “Because then I’d have to explain, and I just didn’t want to do that,” Rick replied. “Listen, could we discuss this in the car? This suit coat isn’t cutting it. I’m freezing.”

Shannon unlocked the passenger door, then went around and unlocked her own. She started the car, but the engine was cold and there wasn’t any heat yet. Rather than sit there, she pulled out of the parking lot and headed for her place.

“So you’ll know the day wasn’t a total loss, I did get a lead from that former employee of mine,” she told him. “The Bayers have a time-share interest in a ski lodge up near Vail. He gave me directions, but we’ll have to wait until daylight to go looking. I guess it’s a real hideaway.”

“Just as well,” Rick said. “I’m pretty beat.” He gently touched his cut lip. “And beat-up.”

“Did they feed you?” she asked.

“No. I had just missed lunch and got out right before dinner,” Rick replied, shivering with more than the cold. “I’ll grab a burger, or something.”

“I’m cooking, remember? That is, if you can wait that long. It’ll take about an hour—after we get there, that is.”

Rick nodded. “It’ll take at least that for me to regain my appetite.” He was silent for a moment. “If you want to change your mind about having me over, I’ll understand.”

“Just because you got arrested?” Shannon glanced over at him. “I realize we only met yesterday, but you should know me better than that by now. I’m not exactly sending out mixed signals, now, am I?”

“I...I’m not so hot at reading those kinds of signals anymore, Shannon. Maybe I never was. In case you haven’t noticed, there are only two females in my life. One of them hates my guts and the other is scared to death of me.”

Traffic was heavy, and for a moment Shannon had all she could handle just getting into the proper lane. Once she had that accomplished, she breathed a sigh of relief and chuckled.

“That Angela is a piece of work,” she said. “I only talked to her for about a minute and I’m pretty sure she hates my guts, too. Chelsea...” She trailed off with a shrug. “Chelsea is young, even for eleven. I think she’s scared of just about everything right now. But that can be changed, if you work on it.”

“If I’m
allowed
to work on it,” Rick corrected. “You saw what happened when I tried. It’s the reason I’ve stayed away from her for this long. Angela has me where she wants me.”

“That can be changed, too. Believe me, I am very much in the mood to help you take that woman on.”

He studied Shannon’s face in the headlights of passing cars. “So, you talked to Angela?”

“I’m the astute one, remember?” Shannon reminded him. “Don’t pussyfoot. If you have a question, ask it.”

“Did she tell you how she got that restraining order?”

“She said you’re a very dangerous man. And a liar.” When they stopped at a red light, Shannon looked at him. “Did you hit her? Or Chelsea?”

“No! Never!” He slapped the dashboard with his bandaged hand and winced. “Now do you see why I didn’t tell you?”

Shannon touched his sore hand. “Sorry, but I had to ask. It does happen, even in the best of families.”

“It didn’t in mine. If anyone had ever laid a finger on Chelsea, so help me...” Rick paused, getting control of the anger within him. “Someone did hit Angela, though.”

“What do you mean? Who?”

“I don’t know who,” he replied. “All I know is that I walked into a courtroom one day for what I thought was going to be a preliminary custody hearing, and there sat Angela with a great big shiner. She said I did it. The judge believed her. That was the turning point for the rest of my dealings with the courts. From that day on, I didn’t stand a chance.”

The light turned green and Shannon accelerated quickly before the car behind her ran up her tail pipe. Good reflexes and a fast car were a must for driving in Denver, especially during rush hour.

“Are you telling me she had someone hit her so she could set you up?” Shannon asked incredulously.

“Maybe. Maybe she hit herself, I don’t know. I told you the woman is capable of anything.”

Shannon didn’t live far from the downtown area as the crow flies, but the only streets that took anywhere near that straight a path were virtual parking lots at this hour, so she chose a less traveled route. Even that was busy, however, and of the roller-coaster variety common to Denver. At least the car heater finally kicked in, making the drive more tolerable. Rick lapsed into a comfortable silence, which was fine with Shannon. He actually seemed to relax a bit, too.

So did she. Besides its being the lesser of two evils, this route featured Christmas lights and decorations all along the way, making it relatively pleasant to traverse. And the lack of clouds allowed them to see the moon and stars. Looking back the way they had come, they could see even the downtown area was like a giant centerpiece decorating the twinkling city itself.

Gradually, the last of the major commercial structures gave way to the suburbs, with its mix of residences and the ubiquitous strip malls and corner convenience stores.

Upon arrival at Shannon’s place, they had to brave the cold night air again. She had a garage, but the driveway leading up to it was on a slant, and she hadn’t had time to shovel it after the last snow. It was therefore too icy for her car to climb.

“I’ll have to get a four-by-four one of these days,” she muttered as she led the way to her door.

“Can you afford one?” Rick asked. Although her home was a modest trilevel, it was in a pretty, well-tended neighborhood close to the Cherry Creek reservoir. “After making your house payments, I mean?”

“Actually, I don’t have any house payments per se. This was an investment property of my stepfather’s, and after the depreciation on it ran out, he pretty much gave it to me,” Shannon explained. “I paid the closing costs, that’s all.”

“Nice of him.”

“Very,” she agreed. A motion sensor turned on her porch light as they approached. “Surprising, too. He’s not really the type to put family before business. But this was after my divorce, and I guess he felt sorry for me for once.” She put her key in the lock. “Still, there are the utilities and insurance to pay for. And the taxes aren’t cheap. But I do okay.”

They entered and Shannon turned on the lights. It was a standard trilevel floor plan, with kitchen, living room and other so-called public areas on the main level, utility and recreation areas downstairs and bedrooms upstairs. All but the bedrooms were more or less visible from where they stood in the entry hall.

As Rick had somehow expected, she had the place fully decked out for the holidays. A Christmas tree stood in one corner of the living room, done up in little white lights and with tiny stuffed animals for ornaments. Everywhere he looked, there were touches of the season, from the pretty cards lining the mantel over her fireplace to a little crèche on one shelf of her combination stereo cabinet and bookcase.

Oddly, though, he didn’t see a garland or so much as a single strand of tinsel anywhere. He had only been standing there for a few moments, when he found out why.

First, something bumped the back of his leg. Hard. He was forced to take a step forward and flail his arms to keep his balance. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw what looked like a shiny black bowling ball streak past him.

“What the—”

“Phil!” Shannon chastised. “Kindly wait until you’ve been introduced before you try to kill the man.”

Rick was looking around warily. “I’d prefer Phil didn’t try to kill me at all, thank you very much.”

“Just kidding. But he does tend to throw his weight around, and seventeen pounds’ worth of muscle-bound cat can pack quite a wallop.” She glanced fretfully at him as she put her coat in the hall closet. “You’re not allergic, are you?”

“No. Actually, I like cats,” Rick told her. He studied the black feline in question, which was now sitting in the doorway leading to the kitchen. “That is just a house cat, right?”

Shannon laughed. “Supposedly.”

Phil was huge, much bigger than the other cat that came crawling out from under the sofa and rubbed Rick’s leg. This one was mostly white with a few brush strokes of gray. Rick bent down and scratched him behind the ear.

“Meet Buttons, he got all the brains.” Shannon headed for the kitchen. “I’ll feed the boys and then start dinner.” She filled the bowls on the floor, then put away the cat food and went to the refrigerator. “Care for a drink? I have soda, beer or wine.”

“I trust your taste in beer.”

“‘Tis a wise man you are,” she told him in her best Irish brogue, which was very good indeed. “I’ll have one while I cook.”

She poured them each a glass and handed Rick one. He took a long, appreciative swallow of his and sighed. “You don’t have to hurry supper on my account.”

“I’m hurrying on my account,” Shannon said. She was already assembling ingredients on the counter near the stove. “I’m famished. I missed lunch, too.”

Rick leaned on the counter near her. “You could have left me in jail. Actually, I’m still surprised you didn’t.”

“Why?” she asked, glancing at him curiously as she washed some vegetables in the sink.

He thought about that for a moment. “Because I don’t deserve it, I suppose. I wasn’t being truthful with you. In some ways, I’m still not,” he admitted.

Shannon smiled slightly. “Don’t you think I know that?”

Rick studied her face. That enigmatic smile bothered him. She was one of the most intuitive women he had ever met. But more to the point, she was starting to get under his skin, and by the end of this evening, he could very well find himself telling her more than he should.

He wanted, even needed to trust her. And she was doing everything in her power to show him she deserved that trust. But there was only so much of himself that his battered spirit would allow him to reveal just yet. This time around, if anything were to happen, it would have to happen for real.

Shannon O’Shaughnessy was quickly making herself an indispensable fixture in his life. He couldn’t imagine not seeing her tomorrow. For a man who didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, that was scary.

“Thanks for doing all this,” he told her. “I want you to know I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t you think you’re worth it?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, has Angela beaten you down so far that you’ve lost your self-esteem?” she returned.