Читать книгу Colton's Secret Investigation - Justine Davis - Страница 12

Daria tried to focus on the screen as they laboriously went through the security video as promised, frame by frame, but her mind kept drifting back down the hall to where a little boy slept. He was a sweet kid who was just feeling helpless right now, ripped out of the life he knew and plunged into another world. A world that clearly hadn’t ever had him in mind. No wonder he was snarly. It was self-preservation. Especially if what he’d said was true—that some man in his mother’s life didn’t like him and so he was discarded. At least her own mother had had no choice. She couldn’t imagine what it would have felt like to know she just hadn’t wanted her child.

And even more disconcerting, she kept looking up and finding Stefan watching her. Something in his eyes unsettled her.

“Problem?” she finally asked.

“Sorry,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “I just can’t get over how you handled Sam. Samuel.” He said it in the tone of a self-correction. When she gave him a curious look, he shrugged. “His mother insists on Samuel.”

“What does he want to be called?”

Stefan glanced toward the hallway, then said rather sheepishly, “I don’t know. I never asked him.” He gave another, more definite shake of his head. “I never thought to talk to him the way you did.”

“I gathered. Talk to him, Stefan, not at him. And more important, listen to what he says. He needs to know he’s got your full attention, and not only when you’re correcting him. He needs to believe he matters to you.”

“Of course he matters.” He ran a hand over his head. And let out a long, weary breath. “I remember when he was born. I was going to be the greatest dad ever. I’d had my own father for an example, you know?”

She smiled at him. “Siblings?” she asked.

“Three.” His mouth quirked. “All sisters, after me.”

“Oh, lucky them,” she teased, but also meaning it. “A strapping big brother to look out for them.”

He gave her an odd look. “That’s exactly what my dad said when I hit about twelve. That it was my job, too, to watch out for them.”

“You’re close, you and your dad?”

He looked sad again. “We were. But… I couldn’t…” Another long breath. “My folks have been married for thirty-five years. And they’re still crazy about each other. They live in Florida now. My dad still treats my mom like a queen, and she thinks he hung the moon. But I couldn’t even keep that going for five years, let alone thirty-five.”

The moment he finished, she could tell he regretted saying all that. Essentially admitting that he felt like a failure for the destruction of his marriage. In the weeks they’d worked together, he’d rarely spoken of anything personal, so this was a switch. She wondered if he shared those feelings with anyone. And if, as she guessed, he didn’t, what it must feel like to keep all that bottled up inside.

Asks the woman who has plenty of secrets of her own to keep?

“What about Sam? Does he have any contact with them?”

“Not much.” He grimaced. “My ex saw to that.”

“Well, I guess you can fix that now, can’t you?” He gave her a startled look, as if he hadn’t thought of that. “Your mom sounds like the kind of grandmother any boy would love. They’d probably both welcome the chance to help if you sent up a flare.”

“I…you’re right. Two of my sisters have kids, and they’re really close to them.”

“So there’s some help.” She frowned. “Who’s the guy who didn’t like him?”

Stefan’s expression hardened. “His mother’s fiancé.”

“Oh. Ouch.”

“And he doesn’t just not like him, he hates him. Gave her an ultimatum. Get rid of him or the wedding’s off.”

Daria’s eyes widened as she looked at him in utter astonishment. “His mother is marrying someone who would make an outrageous demand like that, and who feels that way about her own child?”

“Yeah, well, Leah’s always had a…calculating streak.”

“What is he, rich?” Daria asked.

“And connected. She’s an event organizer, and he moves in all the right circles.”

“No wonder your son is angry. He has every right to be.”

He stared at her for a moment. And then he closed his eyes and shook his head. “I never thought of it like that, either. From his point of view.”

“You probably haven’t had time,” she said, trying to be understanding. “Just trying to organize childcare is a pain, with this case ongoing. And you had to get him into school in a rush, so it’s no wonder you haven’t had a chance to fix up his room or connect with other parents.”

He blinked. “What? What’s wrong with his room?”

“It’s fine…for a grown-up. But a kid needs his own stuff, needs things he likes around him, so he feels at home. And,” she added, “a smaller bed.”

Something flashed in those striking light brown eyes, something that made her wonder what he was thinking. But he only said, “I heard you say that. What difference does it make?”

“The difference between feeling lost in a place too big for you and safe in your own little shelter.”

It was a moment before he leaned back in the desk chair he sat in. She’d noticed early on he had the seat set a good three inches higher than a normal seat, to accommodate his height. Her feet probably wouldn’t even touch the floor.

“How do you know all this? You said you’d never had kids.”

She felt the old, painful pang. “No. Nor will I ever, biologically. Doctors told me that long ago.” She’d had years to get used to the idea, but that didn’t stop her from feeling sad about it now and then.

“I’m sorry. You’re obviously great with them,” he said, and there was a note of genuineness in his voice that she appreciated.

“I have friends with kids,” she answered evenly. “In fact, my best friend has three boys, including twins about Sam’s age.” She purposely chose the name the boy’s mother didn’t like, felt a small pleasure in doing it and didn’t care at the moment if it was petty. “I’ve been around them and babysat them since they were born.”

“So…tell me what all I need to do. Besides a smaller bed.”

“You might not like it.”

“I just want him to like it.”

She heard the undertone of desperation in his voice. He did truly love his son—he just didn’t know him. And she doubted she or anyone could have done much better under the circumstances.

“All right,” she said. “You want my opinion? There’s no place for a kid here, not even a yard, and it’s obvious. It looks like the proverbial bachelor pad.”

His gaze darted away, and he said uncomfortably, “Yeah, I was kind of going for that, after the divorce.”

“Do you still like it?”

“Actually… I never really did. I was kind of reeling, and it was just…”

“A declaration?”

His mouth quirked. “I guess.”

“You need furniture a kid can get on, even climb on, without being afraid of hurting it or getting it dirty. He needs books, toys, maybe a stuffed animal to hug at night, although he’d probably deny it. And more playing room—another reason for the smaller bed—and pictures of what he likes.”

Again he ran a hand over his head. “I don’t even know what he likes.”

“He likes that video game. Find some stuff about it—it’s everywhere. He likes grilled cheese sandwiches, like most kids, and I’m sure your Szechuan is way too spicy for him. Kids have simple tastes at that age. Peanut butter and jelly isn’t just a cliché. And,” she added with a grin, “he likes dogs better than cats.”

“Well, we’re in agreement there,” Stefan said with a wry laugh.

“Think about that, then.”

“What?”

“A dog.”

Stefan blinked. “You mean…get one? I don’t even have time to take care of Samuel, and you want to add a dog into the mix?”

“I didn’t mean tomorrow,” she said with a laugh. “But maybe take a trip over to Max Hollick’s place. The K-9 Cadets program. He’s got a bunch of puppies there for training. And since they’re all already spoken for, you won’t be confronted with Sam insisting on taking one home. But you can see how he is with them, see if you think it would be worth it.”

“That…makes sense,” he admitted. “As long as he knows we can’t do it now.”

“Maybe when this case is over.” She grimaced. “If it ever is.”

“It will be,” he promised. “But not if we don’t get back to work.”

“Yeah. Right.”

They went back to the frame-by-frame analysis of the security videos. They enlarged each frame in quarters to get a closer look at people in the background, looking for even a slight resemblance to Bianca. Daria had begun this by looking for the dress she’d been wearing, but Stefan had pointed out she could have changed at any time. He’d rather offhandedly mentioned a witness he’d once had, also a “working girl,” who’d told him she always carried a change of clothes with her in case something happened to what she was wearing. Like an extra-energetic client.

Daria had turned away as heat rose in her cheeks at his words. Unlike Stefan, if she blushed it would show beneath her lighter brown skin. Not, she thought, that he likely ever blushed. He’d probably seen too much, and he’d said that so casually. She didn’t want him thinking she was so green that such things embarrassed her, but in fact her county was usually a calm, quiet place, and she’d never encountered a case like this one before. Thank goodness.

It was nearly midnight and Daria’s eyes were burning when Stefan finally leaned back and rubbed at his own eyes, then shook his head. “I’ve had it,” he muttered.

“Me, too,” she agreed.

“I could be looking right at Bianca or our killer and it wouldn’t register.”

“Fresh start tomorrow?” she suggested, and he nodded. “I’ll mark the spot where we left off.”

“Maybe back it up to a half hour ago,” he said wryly. “I think that’s when my brain checked out.”

“Done,” Daria replied. She shut down the laptop; it was technically sheriff’s department property, so she’d take it with her. As they left the den, she glanced toward the hallway. “You’ll work it out with him, Stefan,” she said quietly. “Give it time.”

“Time? Took you less then half an hour to get more out of him than I have since he got here.”

“I have more practice,” she said with a smile.

He walked her out to her car, and she guessed from the way her breath made vapor that it was at or below freezing.

“Welcome to November,” she muttered. “Why aren’t you shivering?” He’d come outside in just his long-sleeved shirt, whereas she had on her jacket and was still cold.

“This is nothing. Add a little northeast wind off the lake for some lake-effect snow, and you’d have a mild Chicago winter,” he said.

“Humph. I’m from California. I’ll never get totally used to this.”

“There are ways to stay warm.”

She was sure he didn’t mean that as a double entendre, so she quashed her instinctive reaction. And he looked as if he regretted saying it anyway, so she turned back to what she knew was his biggest concern.

“Look, I know with work, and especially right now, it’s impossible, but Sam’s going to need kids to play with. Not to be critical, but Mrs. Crane doesn’t seem the type to bend and get down on his level.”

“No, she’s not,” he admitted. “But she was the only one available on such short notice.” He grimaced. “Leah called me on a Friday and said he’d be flying in on Sunday.”

Daria blinked. “Two days’ notice?” He nodded. And her already low opinion of his ex dropped another notch. “I won’t ask why on earth you got married in the first place, but…”

“She thought the job was glamorous, I guess. Exciting. Didn’t realize it’s mostly grunt work. And I…” He frowned. “Let’s just say she’s gorgeous. And can be quite charming, when it suits her purposes. We eloped after three weeks.”

Daria managed not to comment on that. Instead she asked, “Do you have legal custody now?”

He sighed. “No. She just sent him.”

Her mouth curled. “I’d want to make it all legal so she can’t yank him back if she changes her mind. I can’t imagine anything worse for a five-year-old than being tugged in two like that.”

“I would, if I was at all sure this was going to work.”

At first she winced inwardly. Would he really send the boy back under these circumstances? But he sounded so exhausted she thought she understood; it was all just too much right now.

“Why don’t I call my friend Fiona? She lives less than a mile from here. You could set up a playdate with her boys, see how they all get along. And if it works, make it a regular thing.”

Stefan stared at her. “I…you’d do that?”

She gave him a puzzled look. “Of course I would. And Fiona is always looking for kids for her boys to hang out with. She’s also big on them playing outside whenever they can. They’ve got a huge backyard with a sandpit and an amazing play set her husband built, with ladders and a slide and a fort up top, and all kinds of things for the boys to wear themselves out on.”

“Sounds like five-year-old heaven.”

“It is,” she said with a laugh. “It’s a built-in babysitter and gets them away from screens. She never leaves them alone, mind you, but she can be out there and read or garden or do other things at the same time. Until winter—then she’s out there building snow things with them. She and the boys made a dragon once that was amazing. Shall I call her?”

“Please,” he said.

“First thing tomorrow,” she promised.

“Thank you,” he said, with such relief in his voice it made her smile up at him. And in the next instant, before she even realized what was happening, his arms came around her in a fierce hug.

It was a thank-you, she told herself. That’s all. Just thank you for help with a situation he was having trouble with. But repeating it didn’t help much when her heart was hammering and her skin sizzled at the contact with that broad, strong chest. And there she was, the woman who had been cold enough to shiver mere moments ago, suddenly overheating as if it were midday LA in the summer. All because this man had hugged her? She must be—

Her self-accusatory thoughts broke off suddenly as something else registered.

Hers wasn’t the only heart that had suddenly started racing.