Читать книгу Look-Alike Lawman - Glynna Kaye - Страница 13

Chapter Four

“Mom!” Cory yelled from the living room Sunday evening. “It’s Officer Wallace. And look what he brought me.”

Cory’s cop was back?

A knot twisted in Elise’s stomach as she hurried from the bedroom, wishing she had time to slip bare feet into shoes and change out of her sweat suit. As she approached the door open to the hallway, Cory’s grin widened under the brim of a Western straw hat—and beyond him she glimpsed Grayson Wallace standing respectfully off to one side, head bowed as if analyzing the worn carpet.

“Isn’t this awesome? Wait until I show Kyle. Can I, Mom?”

“It’s a school night.”

“I know, but please?” His eyes begged. “I’ll hurry.”

While it wasn’t long before bedtime, Kyle was Billie Jean’s seventh-grader in the apartment below—and she’d rather not talk to Officer Wallace in Cory’s presence. Apparently the lawman hadn’t gotten the message that only her son welcomed police officers with open arms. “Okay. But I expect you back here in ten minutes.”

“Yee haw!” Cory dashed out the door, high-fiving the cop as he went by. “This is way cool. I can be a sheriff. Or a Texas Ranger.”

Turning toward Cory’s cop, she caught his look of dismay. Had he actually believed the hat would distract her son from all things police related?

She stepped into the hallway, pulling the door partially closed behind her. She’d planned to straighten the apartment once Cory had gone to sleep, but Mr. Wallace didn’t need a glimpse of her chaotic, real-life world. “Nice try with the hat, but you didn’t need to do that.”

He smiled uncertainly, as if not sure of the reception his unannounced call would elicit. “I know I didn’t. But I figured it might get his mind off cops and onto cowboys. From the sound of that departing comment, though, I struck out.”

Was that the true reason he’d stopped by? Or did he have something else on his mind? “I’m not sure aspiring to a career in rodeo would be much safer than law enforcement.”

“But what are the chances he’ll make it to bull and bronc riding?” His eyes twinkled. “A lot of the pros started out on goats and calves before they were out of diapers. I don’t see a whole lot of opportunity for that around here.”

“True. But I’m sorry after all your effort he’s not cooperating. Thanks for going out of your way to try.”

“Easy enough to do. I was in the western part of the state over the weekend—I have family out that way—and saw the hat in a truck stop. I thought to myself, ‘Self, you know a boy who would look mighty fine in a hat like that.’ ”

His grin urged her heart into a full gallop.

“Western Texas? You’re not from Fort Worth?”

“Actually I am, but I recently discovered a branch of the family I previously didn’t know existed. Cattle ranchers.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “So you’re taking up riding and roping and making yourself at home with shirttail kin?”

He tilted his head and squinted one eye. “A tad closer than shirttail. A twin brother and a second little sister.”

She stared. “You have a twin that you didn’t know about?”

“Long story.” He grimaced as if wishing he hadn’t mentioned it, then a purposeful gleam sparked in his eyes. “But I didn’t stop by to regale you with the particulars of my family tree or just to drop off the hat.”

Uh-oh. Here it comes.

Why couldn’t men leave her in peace? She wasn’t in the market for another man. And certainly not this one. Yes, even with the sturdy sling supporting his arm, he looked like any woman’s dream standing there fit and trim in pressed khaki trousers, his wide shoulders filling out a burgundy golf shirt. But she was all too aware how innocent dreams revolving around a cop could morph into nightmares.

“Mr. Wallace—”

“Grayson.” Determination etched his features. “On Friday Cory’s teacher asked if I’d consider talking to you about mentoring Cory. I’ve considered it, and I’m here to discuss it.”

He was, was he? She folded her arms. Out of the blue this stranger wanted to spend time with her son? Become his role model? Was he out of his mind? Does he think I’m out of mine? Since Duke’s passing, she’d had men come up with doozies of excuses to worm their way into her life, but this got top honors for originality.

“You know,” the officer prodded when she didn’t immediately respond, “I could give him some man time.”

With a cop? What was Cory’s teacher thinking? That could exacerbate her son’s fixation.

“I’m sorry, but—”

He raised a hand to halt her. “I didn’t say anything on Friday, but since then I’ve had time to think about it. So if you feel it would be beneficial in any way, if it might help Cory settle down and—”

“Settle down? Exactly what did Miss Gilbert tell you about my son?” She’d have a talk with her tomorrow.

His forehead creased. “Don’t get riled up at Cory’s teacher. She said pretty much what you told me yourself. You know, that he’s preoccupied with policemen. She thinks he’s overly concerned about the man who killed his father and is aggressively acting out on his feelings.”

“That term is considerably stronger than the situation warrants.”

“Likely so. Nevertheless, Miss Gilbert is worried about him and noticed how Cory and I hit it off that day.”

“She means well, but doesn’t fully understand the situation.” Did Miss Gilbert think so little of her parenting abilities that she felt a need to push Cory off on a man she didn’t even know? The implication stung. Elise forced a smile. “Thank you for stopping by, but teaming my son with a police officer—after the loss of his father in the line of duty—isn’t a good idea.”

“I understand, but—”

“I appreciate your considerate offer, but it’s not in Cory’s best interests.”

From out of nowhere, her son galloped down the hallway to slip by her and into the apartment. She stepped back inside, as well.

“Have a good evening, Officer Wallace.”

With a quick glance in his direction, she closed the door.

* * *

Monday after work as Gray grilled supper on the enclosed patio outside his ground-floor condo, the rejection of the night before still stung.

The sole consolation was how pretty Elise had looked in her velour sweats as she delivered the dismissal, dainty pink-painted toenails peeping below the soft, shapely pants. Her hair, loose from its customary bun, cascaded down her back. She smelled good, too. Like roses in his mom’s garden back in Appleton.

He turned the steak over, its juices sizzling in the low flame as he savored the memory of Ms. Lopez attired for a relaxing Sunday evening at home, bare feet and all. Was it his fault he could almost envision her cuddled up beside him on the sofa, soft and warm, watching Sunday Night Football?

He had to admit, though, that while her curt dismissal of his suggestion to spend time with Cory rankled, he was genuinely relieved. He’d volunteered because he felt obligated, not due to a driving need to get involved with some woman’s kid again.

If this past weekend his sister Violet hadn’t told him of the challenges she and Jack faced growing up without a dad, he’d have minded his own business. If Maddie hadn’t shared the struggles her soon-to-be stepdaughter experienced when her father had been absent during her earliest years, or Gray hadn’t been reminded of the impact the church youth coach Reggie Lenard had on his own life, he’d never have considered it.

If he hadn’t seen that stupid cowboy hat in a truck stop...

So, bottom line, he was good with being let off the hook. God was looking out for him, as He had the night he’d dived off that balcony to elude an unhappy guy with a gun.

His plate was already stacked high enough, what with physical therapy to get a dislocated shoulder back in shape and trying to find his dad. He’d scheduled a few days off this week to devote time to the latter pursuit. He could only hope and pray he’d be the bearer of good news soon.

He’d pulled the steak from the grill and deposited it onto a plate when his cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number as work or family related, but maybe it was someone responding to a query about his dad’s whereabouts.

“Wallace.”

“Grayson Wallace?”

The lilting, feminine tone didn’t sound like your typical telemarketer.

“Speaking.”

“This is Elise Lopez—Cory’s mother.”

Well, well, well. He eased himself into a nearby patio chair, picturing her as he’d last seen her—arms folded and dark eyes pleading with him to get lost. Sensing the armor around her from the moment their gazes first met at the school, he had no idea how he’d gotten up the nerve to hand her his business card. She’d probably thought it a mighty bold move. After last night’s send-off, he never expected she’d use it. Had she thought of yet another reason why having him around wouldn’t be in her son’s best interests and was dying to share it with him?

“I’m sorry to disturb you this evening,” she rushed breathlessly as if wanting to get the call over with as quickly as possible, “but I’m afraid I’ve underestimated the situation with Cory’s adjustment to school. Do you have time to meet with me this evening? If it’s not too inconvenient, at the coffee shop across the street from the clinic where I work?”

He gave a longing glance at his cooling dinner, but sat up straighter at the note of urgency in her voice. “I can do that.”

“Thank you.”

“Is everything...okay?” Dumb question. Of course it wasn’t or she wouldn’t be talking to him at the moment. It didn’t take a genius to figure out calling a cop for a favor—any cop—was clearly an act of desperation.

“It looks as if—” her words came softly in his ear “—I’ll be taking you up on your offer to spend time with Cory.”

* * *

“I got a call from the school early this afternoon.” Elise leaned forward in the coffee-shop booth next to a window, arms resting on the table as she took in the concerned countenance of the last man on earth she wanted to turn to for help. “He’s been suspended for two days. For fighting. And not just fighting, but for starting the fights.”

Grayson frowned. “Fights. As in plural.”

“Yes.” Could he hear the shame in her words? Know how hard she fought to keep her lips from trembling?

“The first time when playing cops and robbers during recess and he didn’t get picked to be a cop. A relatively minor scuffle. But later in the day there was an altercation in the lunchroom. Cory was showing a classmate a picture of his dad in uniform and an older boy made a comment about Duke not being too bright if he stood there and let someone shoot him.” She took a steadying breath. “I guess that was all it took. Cory bloodied his nose. Another kid joined in and the next thing you know—”

“You’ve got a brawl.”

“Yes.”

“Was Cory hurt?”

Her lips tightened. “Minor scrapes. Bruises. The other boys the same. Nothing of a serious nature...but enough to get him suspended.”

“Were the other boys suspended, too?” To her relief, he sounded as if he was in Cory’s corner, making sure he hadn’t been singled out for punishment.

“One day. Cory got two because both times he threw the first punch.”

Gray let out a gust of breath. “He must have been pushed to the max. My gut instinct is that Cory isn’t a violent-natured kid.”

So did that mean he was willing to help Cory?

She toyed with the coffee mug in front of her. She hadn’t taken a single sip. Grayson’s mug, likewise, sat neglected.

“I spent the afternoon in the school counselor’s office.”

“Does Cory understand the ramifications of what he did? That you had to miss work?”

“I explained that I have to take those hours off without pay or use vacation time that I could have otherwise spent doing something fun with him.”

“And he apologized?”

“To me? Yes. And to his principal and the lunchroom monitor.” She leaned back in the booth seat, recalling the humiliation of the meeting in the counselor’s office. “A couple of the other boys have been in trouble before. Their parents shrugged the whole thing off when I made him apologize to them. It was almost as if they were proud their kids held their own in a fight that warranted a suspension. But I’m ashamed.”

“You weren’t the one who landed a punch.”

“No, but I should have been more alert to how deeply the loss of his father has impacted him. It’s been several months since he’s cried about anything, no matter how upset. Even today, not a single tear. He’d seemed to be adjusting. Did well in kindergarten, but now...”

“Sounds like the other boys know what buttons to push.”

She solemnly traced a finger along the rim of the coffee mug. “Unfortunately.”

“So what do you have in mind? For Cory and me, I mean.”

A young, dark-haired waitress paused at their table and the conversation momentarily halted. The teenager appeared surprised that neither had touched their aromatic brew, but discreetly departed without comment.

Elise pushed her coffee aside. “Miss Gilbert and Mrs. Clifton, his counselor, suggested I take you up on your offer to spend time with him. To see if a responsible male can instill positive reinforcement before—” she paused, then forced the words “—before we seek professional help. I don’t have the financial means for a psychologist, and my insurance doesn’t cover that type of thing. Of course, I’ll do whatever it takes to help Cory, take out a loan if necessary, but—”

“Elise.” Grayson rested a palm on the table, his expression earnest. “When Miss Gilbert approached me about entering the mentoring program, I was dead set against it. I’m not a trained counselor. I’m not even involved in the youth programs at church. I’m not qualified to handle a situation like this.”

“But you offered.” Why did she have to sound so desperate? So needy? What was she doing here begging this man for assistance?’

“I know I did, but—”

“But that was before he turned—” she almost choked on the word “—violent.”

The flattened hand on the table fisted. “Decking a kid who was asking for it is unfortunate. There’s a definite anger control issue coming into play. But Cory isn’t, in my estimation, turning violent.”

She let out a soft sigh of relief. “When you made the offer last night, you must have thought you could help.”

Gray grimaced. “It’s a long story which I won’t go into, but I know of a situation... I learned over the weekend how growing up without a father can affect someone.”

The recently discovered brother and sister he’d mentioned earlier?

“So you see,” he continued, “I’d come back home with my Superman cape on, thinking I could make a difference for Cory by bringing him the hat and hanging out with him. But I’m not educationally qualified for something like this.”

“You need a degree to hang out with a six-year-old? Play games? Help with homework? Just talk?”

“No, but—”

She leaned forward, swallowing her pride as she appealed on her son’s behalf. “He admires you. Looks up to you. Maybe he’ll open up and tell you why he’s angry with the world.”

Grayson tapped a finger on the table, his frank gaze meeting hers. “I can already tell you why he’s angry with the world.”

He knew? It was so simple and she’d missed it?

“Why?”

“Because the world he trusted betrayed him. Turned itself upside down. Took his dad away from him and probably took you away from him in a number of ways as well.”

There had to be more to it than that. A reason why his anger was coming out now instead of in kindergarten. She quietly studied him, then took a stab in the dark. “For someone who isn’t degreed in kid psych, you seem sure of your assessment. Personal experience?”

He glanced away to stare out the window, beyond his own reflection, at the passing traffic headlights penetrating the last dregs of twilight. “I didn’t lose my father, but my mom died in a car accident when I was seven.”

“I’m sorry.” She shouldn’t have probed into his painful past. “That had to have been difficult.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“But you still remember.” She sensed it. Suspected it might play a role in his final decision on Cory’s behalf. “You weren’t much older than Cory. Maybe you can make him understand what’s going on down deep inside.”

“Maybe. But it sounds as if he needs someone to step in immediately, before things escalate.” He paused, his expression grave. “I don’t know what it entails for training and all, but it could easily take a month or more for me to get approved for the school’s mentoring program.”

“Then we don’t go through the mentoring program.”

Something she couldn’t decipher flickered through his eyes.

His words came carefully. “It’s a standard—and wise—practice to conduct a background check. Which could take—”

“I did my own background check.” She met his intent gaze with a challenging one of her own. “I contacted an old buddy of my husband’s who contacted someone in your division. You passed with flying colors.”

A brow quirked. “You didn’t waste any time.”

Did he approve? Disapprove? It didn’t matter. She’d done what she had to do. “I’ve already wasted too much time because I didn’t see this coming. Cory is too important to me to wait for weeks to go through official school district channels.”

“I’m still not—”

“Please? A few nights a week? Even a single hour this weekend?”

“I’ll be out of town this weekend.” He must have seen the disappointment in her eyes, for he cleared his throat and continued. “But I’m taking a few days off. Tomorrow and Wednesday.”

“I can’t impose on your vacation.”

“Personal business, not a true vacation. But I might have time available later in the afternoon.”

She could tell by the still-uncertain look that he had lingering concerns, but she pressed for a firm commitment. “So you will spend time with him? See if he’ll open up to you?”

He settled back in the booth, his eyes locked on hers. “I’ll give it a shot. Tomorrow? Three-thirty?”

Impulsively she reached across the table to grasp his hand, an unexpected bolt of awareness darting through her as skin touched skin. “Thank you.”

He gazed at their clasped hands a long moment, then back at her. “You’ll tell Cory I’m coming?”

She hesitated. It might not be a good idea to get her son’s hopes up. What if it didn’t work out for him to come after all?

Grayson shifted, turning his hand in hers to give it a reassuring squeeze. “You can tell him, Elise. I promise I won’t be a no-show.”

Relieved, she self-consciously withdrew her hand. Took a calming breath. “I’ve arranged for him to stay all day with his after-school sitter, Billie Jean. She lives in a ground-floor apartment directly below mine. I’ll let her know you’re coming.”

“Don’t expect any miracles, okay?” Grayson frowned as he massaged his injured shoulder. “We’ll hang out. Get to know each other. But you’ve got to be prepared that he could change his mind about me. May not want anything to do with me. Or it could backfire entirely—ramp up his anger or what you call his cop obsession.”

“That’s a risk I have to take, isn’t it?” She reluctantly drew her eyes from his too-magnetic gaze and stood, noting uneasily that the sky had fully darkened. “I have to go. I left Cory with Billie Jean. But I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Wallace...Grayson.”

She quickly turned away, hurried out the door and onto the street. Filling her lungs with the still-warm night air, she offered a silent word of thanks.

God was answering her tear-filled prayers.

But what was she getting Cory and herself into, allowing another police officer into their lives?