Читать книгу A Time To Protect - Lois Richer - Страница 13

Chloe Tanner sprinted like a greyhound at the track, long legs eating up the distance down the gleaming hallway tile with effortless ease.

Brendan followed, his gaze fixed on the nurse as she closed in on the interloper. When she spun the person around he almost choked. “Colleen?”

“You know this person?”

Chloe had released her hold, yet Brendan knew that Colleen didn’t have a chance of evading the nurse. He’d already made a mental note that Chloe’s reaction times signaled some kind of martial arts training. Earlier she’d taken him down without blinking and he didn’t cave easily. So she was well-trained—black belt probably.

Some women carried pepper spray or even a gun for protection. Some learned basic methods of self-defense. But Chloe’s quickness, the speed with which she reacted, signaled more than routine training. Had Madison mentioned her mother’s dedication to some sport?

His mind clicked into the familiar police mode and Brendan found himself wondering about the ex-husband. Maybe Chloe had to defend herself and her children against him. A burst of gall in his stomach told him how much he hated that thought.

“Do you know her?” Chloe repeated, her voice threaded with steel.

“I know her. She’s my cousin and a reporter for the Colorado Springs Sentinel.” Brendan turned his attention back to the feisty blond cousin he’d never been able to keep in check all through their wild and wooly childhood. “What are you doing here, Colleen?”

“Reporting on the mayor’s shooting, of course. It’s what I do, remember, Bren?” Colleen’s blue eyes dared him to comment on her job.

“Well, what I do is look after the patients,” the nurse explained, her voice soft enough not to disturb any patient, but firm enough to make it clear she meant business. “When they are in this hospital there is a certain expectation of privacy which we try to provide for our patients. In this particular ward there are restrictions which are clearly posted. We do not allow reporters to wander into Intensive Care with tape recorders to talk to our patients. Even if they could speak.”

Brendan felt his jaw drop as Chloe slid the recorder out of Colleen’s hands, removed the tape and handed it back.

“You can’t do that! I had some other stuff on there—”

“I’m very sorry, Miss Montgomery, but I’m just doing my job.”

Brendan couldn’t detect a hint of remorse on Chloe Tanner’s gorgeous face. Her eyes—wide open, guileless and blue—stared back at his cousin, the thick lashes a perfect frame for those giant irises. Even with that gorgeous mane of shimmering auburn scraped back off her face, Chloe Tanner was a beautiful woman. In fact, her hairstyle only emphasized the clear alabaster tone of her skin and offered an enchanting view of her haunting cheekbones and full lips.

“You will have to leave now, Miss Montgomery. You do not have a visitor’s pass and you are not permitted to be here.” Chloe stood in the doorway of the mayor’s room, slim, defiant, the blue of her eyes a different tone than Colleen’s lighter ones, but every bit as determined.

Brendan braced himself for the argument his cousin would mount, then realized something was wrong. “Just a minute, Colleen. There’s supposed to be a guard here.”

“Oh, Sid was all doubled over when I came. Needed a break, you know? I guess he caught something. I said I’d watch the door for him.”

“He’s not allowed to leave. The mayor is to have round-the-clock protection. In case they try again.” Furious as this security breakdown, Brendan pulled out his phone, asked for another guard. A moment later Sid returned looking whiter than the floor as he staggered to his chair. “Hold on, Sid. I’ve got someone else coming to replace you.”

“I shouldn’t have left, but—oh,” he groaned and grabbed his stomach.

Moments later a uniformed officer hurried through the door to take his place. Sid left. Brendan turned and noticed Chloe Tanner hadn’t budged from the mayor’s doorway.

“You’ll have to leave,” she insisted, glaring at Colleen. “Now.”

“Fine.”

“Just a minute.” Brendan frowned at his cousin. “How did you get up here, Colleen?”

“The stairs.”

“Nobody stopped you?”

“Nobody except her.”

“That’s my job. You should not be here. Please leave.”

“I’m going. You should think about hiring her, Brendan. She’s better than a guard dog.” Colleen jerked her head at Chloe, snapped her recorder closed, turned and walked away. The elevator doors closed behind her.

“Do you know how rare that is?” Brendan stared in disbelief. Chloe ignored him, calmly returned to the desk and checked the open chart. Brendan was used to cataloguing height and weight, but Chloe’s long legs made her look substantially taller than the five feet six inches he’d first gauged her to be. “I can hardly believe I witnessed that with my own eyes.”

“I beg your pardon?” She glanced up from the monitor that gave her a full view of every patient’s room. They could both see Theresa checking the temperature of a patient across the way. “What’s rare?” she asked as she sidestepped him to pick up the ringing phone. She dealt with the caller summarily, then glanced at him, her mouth pursing. “You were saying?”

Her lips were full, enticing. Was she wearing lipstick—and why hadn’t it come off with her lunch? Realizing the path his thoughts were taking, Brendan fought to regain his focus. “Colleen never does as anyone asks. If she thinks there’s a story in it, she doesn’t give up.”

“Good for her.” Chloe stepped around him again, made an entry on a piece of paper and gave a hiss of frustration when she found him in the way again. Her hands clamped onto her narrow hips. “Look, I’ve got things to do and you are hampering my work. There’s really nothing more I can tell you about the mayor, so please let me do my job.”

It was evident she was telling the truth. There were no clues here. Reassured that security was back in place, all that was left was to check with the local cops about other access points and make sure no one else could use the stairs to get to the mayor.

“Thank you for your help. Here’s my card. If you think of anything, call. I’ll leave you in peace now.” Brendan walked to the elevator, paused, then turned back. “Maybe I’ll see you at soccer practice, Mrs. Tanner,” he said. “We don’t have many games left before the season ends.”

“Maybe you will,” she agreed, her attention on the monitor. When a buzzer sounded she hurried away to answer its summons.

On the ride down to the main entrance, Brendan’s thoughts were definitely not on his job, not until he rounded the corner of the parking lot and spotted the deputy mayor lurking in the shadows. At least it looked like Owen Frost. About to ask if he wanted a ride somewhere, Brendan froze when a black car eased toward Owen, who bent over to speak to the person inside. He took something from an outstretched hand then the black car rolled away.

Brendan pressed against a bunch of bushes, hoping they would shield him from the car’s headlights. When he looked around again he saw Owen now sitting in his own car, so he edged closer for a better look. The deputy mayor appeared to be counting bills—twenties.

Immediately the little nerve in Brendan’s neck began its rat-tatting, double time. Since when did the deputy mayor need to skulk in the dark, hide in the shadows? Something was going on and it involved money.

A bribe? A payoff? Or maybe a debt paid off?

Questions bubbled up. Was the deputy mayor involved in the shooting of Mayor Maxwell Vance? But why? The mayor’s job hardly paid enough to make attempted murder worthwhile.

Clearly something was out of place. Brendan intended to find out what.

“He was supposed to kill the mayor.” The man they called El Jefe or The Chief tilted forward, insinuation in every word. “Were those not my orders?”

“Y-yes, sir.” The peon gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing. The other man remained silent, eyes narrowed.

“Then I suggest you see to it, before I find someone more…effective.”

“We can do it, Chief.” He looked at his partner. “We’ll go right away.”

“No. Not tonight. Too many people around, asking questions. Wait a while. Choose the opportunity. Patience is a virtue, you know.” He curled his lips in a smile, but he felt no mirth. “Get it done. Or else.”

They disappeared like phantoms of the night. Almost exactly as planned. One mistake easily rectified then they would move on. He pulled out his cell phone.

“Hola, Miguel! Sí, it is I. Como esta?” He listened, nodded. “Sí, the shop is ready to open. But my merchandise is not all here. Ah. Bueno.” He hung up, then glanced around. The location was ideal, the stage set. If all went well, business would be up and running full steam in a matter of days.

“And no one can stop me,” he gloated. “No one.”

“Okay, guys. Here’s what we’re going to do.” Brendan felt ten feet tall as the youthful faces stared up at him, brimming with expectation. This ragtag bunch of soccer novices was doing well. If only they could win this game, build up their confidence. He whispered a prayer for help as he reminded the players about a new move he’d demonstrated at the last practice. He led a cheer before they tumbled onto the field.

She wasn’t here today. He’d checked the bleachers several times but hadn’t been able to spot a particular shade of red hair that would have identified Chloe Tanner. He should have known better than to look. Madison had already told him she’d come to practice with a friend.

“Come on, Springers!”

A parent’s yell of support drew his attention back to his team and the game. He grinned, hollered his own encouragement. Sure enough, his timid team was trying what he’d asked, coaxing the ball down the field in a mix of stabs and thrusts that had the other team baffled.

“Kick it,” he whispered as they approached the opposing net. “Kick it!”

As if she’d heard, one small foot came out, smashed into the ball and sent it flying straight toward the net. A howl of excitement burst out of the crowd and Brendan held his breath then let it whoosh out in disappointment. The goalie had easily stopped the shot and now kicked it toward his team’s strongest player.

“We’re dead now,” Buddy mourned sotto voce.

But the Springers weren’t quite ready to concede. One of the smallest players, Ashley, slipped the ball off the foot of the other player and shot toward the net with all her might, legs churning like windmills. At the last possible moment, with the goalie who was twice her size looming, she drop-passed the ball to teammate Emily Cornell, who promptly rocketed it into the net.

“Did you see that?”

Brendan felt a thwack against his back and fought to catch his breath. Coach Buddy Jeffers might think he was worn out, but it was evident from the thumping on Brendan’s left shoulder that Buddy’s strength had only been in hiatus and was now back full force.

The players rushed toward them, faces beaming with delight.

“You are an awesome team!” Brendan cheered, slapping each one on the back. “Now we’ve only got a few minutes left in the game and we need one more goal. Can you do it?”

Unanimous agreement. He cut short his pep talk and asked them to try the attack they’d worked out at the last practice.

“You faked them out pretty good on that last pass. So think about that and play your hardest. Go, Springers!”

They surged onto the field and took possession of the ball almost immediately. One minute twenty seconds left and they lost it. Brendan could have cried but he clenched his fists and willed them on. Madison Tanner yelled something at the girl across from her. A moment later the two of them took off down the field, Madison clearing the way. She accepted a pass, then before her opponent could attack, whisked the ball across to Emily. A second later it was in the net.

Brendan laughed out loud and quickly stepped out of Buddy’s way as the coach did his jiggy dance. They weren’t out of the woods yet. Less than a minute remained on the clock. The other team could easily tie the game. He called a time out.

“We need one more goal, don’t we?” Madison’s heart-shaped face shone with perspiration. “Otherwise they can tie it and they’ll get into the finals because they have more points than us. Right, Coach Jeffers?”

Buddy’s face sobered. “You’re right, Madison.”

“So we need another goal.” Brendan glanced at the weary group. “I’m thinking our number eight play might just work. Want to give it a try?”

The majority looked dubious, and why not? Number eight was hard to execute. But they had enough time for only one chance.

“They’re pretty big, Coach. We look like midgets next to them.”

“That’s why we need to try it, Emily. They make good targets.” The other kids chuckled at his joke. “Listen, you have really shown what a good team you are. If you want to try something else, we’ll do it. What do you think?”

Nobody said a word.

“All I know is, we worked hard to get here and I’m not giving up yet. Not when we could get into the finals.” Madison stood with her tiny feet planted on the grass, daring the other players. “Are you?”

“Not me.” Ashley grinned. So did the rest.

They repeated it over, one by one, until all were cheering. The whistle went and the team poured out onto the field, ready to give it their all. At the last moment the other coach pulled a smaller player and sent in his biggest offensive player. Madison was no match. Brendan whispered a prayer for her safety. Her heart was big, but her body was small, fragile.

The first twenty seconds the other team commanded the game, moving closer and closer to the Springers’ net.

“I shouldn’t have pushed them so hard,” he murmured to Buddy. “They’re too young and they’re against a much better team.”

“Think so?” Buddy pointed. “Look at that.”

Madison darted around her opponent and kicked the ball as hard as she could. No one was expecting it but her teammates immediately recognized the formation and moved into the pattern they’d practiced. Twenty seconds later the ball was in the net.

And Madison was on the ground. Unmoving.

Brendan raced out to the tiny form, his heart beating so fast he could hardly breathe. He squatted beside her, calling her name.

“Madison? Madison, are you all right?”

“Let me see.” Someone pushed against him, forcing him to move. Chloe Tanner knelt at her daughter’s side, felt her pulse then checked under her eyelids, that gorgeous sprawl of auburn hair cascading over one shoulder and onto the young girl. Able hands slipped over the small bones, checking for injuries. “Come on, baby. It’s Mom. You can’t lie here if you want to win the game, you know.” Not a tremor belied that steady, compelling voice.

“Is she—” Just in time Brendan caught the shake of Chloe’s head and cut off his words. The team had gathered around and were staring down at the white-faced girl who still hadn’t moved.

“Come on, honey. If you’re going to win, we have to finish the game.”

Madison’s eyes fluttered open. She blinked several times before a funny smile flickered across her lips. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, yourself. Are you all right? Any dizziness?”

“No. I’m okay. It hurts a little. Here.” She pointed to her shoulder.

“It should hurt.” Emily pointed at the offender from the opposite team. “She jabbed her with an elbow. Deliberately. I saw it. Then she laughed when Madison fell down.”

Brendan glanced up at the referee, raised one eyebrow.

“I didn’t see it. Can’t call what I didn’t see.”

“Come on, sweetie. Sit up and take deep breaths. You’re okay. You just got the wind knocked out of you.” After a moment Chloe gently eased her daughter to her feet, eyes alert for any sign of difficulty. “Is that better?”

“Yes.” Madison was standing now. “Is the game over?”

“Five seconds left,” Buddy told them.

“Then let’s finish it,” Madison said to the other players. She turned to take her place on the field but Brendan laid a hand on her arm to stop her.

“The others can finish wiping them up, Madison. You’ve done your part. You sit down and rest.”

“Yes, sir.” She high-fived the rest of the group then moved to the sidelines. Chloe turned toward the bleachers.

“Aren’t you going to stay with her?” Brendan asked.

She gave him a look that would have curdled milk.

“Have her mother sit beside her, in front of everyone, embarrassing her? Are you kidding, Mr. Montgomery?” And with a toss of that lustrous hair she was gone, jogging across the field, her trim figure perfectly displayed in shabby blue jeans and a pale blue boiled wool jacket.

“You sick, Bren?” Buddy nudged him with his elbow.

“No. Why?”

“You sure got a funny look on your face.”

Brendan returned to his place on the sidelines, sent out another player and waited for the whistle to blow. They’d won the game. He couldn’t suppress a grin as his team cheered and congratulated each other, then lined up to shake hands with the opposing team. But he kept his eye on Madison, especially when her attacker came toward her.

He needn’t have worried. Madison thrust out her hand as she looked the other girl straight in the eye. “I forgive you,” she said clearly.

Brendan could have cheered. Of all the lessons he’d hoped to impart to this team, this was by far the most important. Last in line, the coach of the opposing team grabbed his hand and congratulated him.

“Just want you to know that I’ll be doing some discipline,” he told them. “We play hard but we don’t play dirty.”

“Thanks.” Brendan watched them leave, saw his own team laughing and giggling as they and Buddy gathered up their equipment. Across the field Chloe waited beside a tall, lanky boy who stood about an inch taller than her.

“Come on, Madison, let’s go see your mom. I’ll bet you’re beginning to feel a little sore, aren’t you?”

“A little,” she admitted, wincing as she moved one shoulder, her blond ponytail slapping against her cheek as she wiggled into her jacket.

“You were a good sport in your behavior toward them. That took a lot of courage.”

“Thanks.” She grinned at him then hugged her mother. “We won!”

“You sure did, honey. Congratulations.” Chloe glanced up at Brendan, her face giving nothing away. “You’re a good coach.”

“You have a daughter who excels at soccer. Besides, I came into this late. Coach Jeffers is the one who deserves the credit.” He glanced at the lean boy who hadn’t yet offered his congratulations. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Brendan Montgomery.” He thrust out a hand.

“Kyle Tanner.”

“Ah, Madison’s brother, I presume.” He squinted. “Not a soccer fan?”

“I don’t mind watching Madison, but it’s not my game.” Kyle looked him up and down. “I suppose you were a jock when you were in school?”

Brendan caught the look of irritation that fluttered across Chloe’s face but he simply laughed at the boy’s sour comment.

“Hardly a jock. But I played soccer a lot. It kept me off the baseball and football teams.”

“You didn’t like those sports?” Kyle seemed puzzled.

“I didn’t like having to live up to my big brother’s image.” Brendan made a face as he ticked the praises off on one hand. “Best quarterback, best pitcher, best hockey forward, best everything.”

“You won a soccer trophy, though,” Madison put in, grinning at him. “Coach Jeffers told us about it.”

“Yeah, my one claim to fame.” Brendan glanced at the backpack Kyle carried. “What are your preferences?”

“I like reading and I have a pet snake named Ziggy.”

Snake? “Oh.” Brendan looked at the ground hoping the kid couldn’t see his shudder of revulsion.

“Sometimes he writes poems,” Madison blurted out. “They’re way cool.”

“I bet they are. I have a favorite book of poems at home that my dad gave me last Christmas. They say things better than I can.” Brendan found Chloe eyeing him with a stern glare, as if she thought he was lying. “Well, I guess I’d better get going. And you get a shower, young lady. A hot one. Might help ease the pain.” He watched as Kyle, looking bored, wandered ahead.

“Yeah. Hot sounds good.” Madison moved her shoulder and winced. Suddenly her face brightened. “Hey, Mom, can Coach Montgomery have dinner with us tonight?”

“I have to work tonight, Maddy. Anyway, it’s just a casserole. I’m sure Mr. Montgomery isn’t all that fond of turkey noodle melt.”

“Are you kidding? I love turkey any way I can get it.” Brendan licked his lips. “I’m not very good at cooking turkey though my mother tried her best to teach me the basics.”

“Oh.” Chloe blinked. “Okay. Well, we’d better get going before it burns.”

The beautiful Mrs. Tanner was an expert at hiding her emotions, which made Brendan wonder about Mr. Tanner. At the moment her face was impassive, which made him question whether Chloe was mad he’d invited himself, or resigned to hosting Madison’s last-minute guests. One thing she wasn’t was overly thrilled. Well, why would she be?

“I’ll follow you there, shall I? Hey, Kyle!” He waited until the boy meandered back. “Want to ride with me?”

“Sure. Whatever.” Kyle shrugged.

Arrangements made, Brendan walked back across the field with the quiet young man at his side trying to think of something to say. Usually he was good with kids, but there was something angry hiding just under the surface with this one and he didn’t want to set him off, even though he wanted to help him.

“This is yours?” Kyle gaped as he took in the black SUV. “I’ve never ridden in one like it before.” He began listing the vehicle specs. “It must handle pretty well. What made you choose it?”

“My mom.” Brendan chuckled at the kid’s open-mouthed stare. “She knows everything there is to know about automobiles. I just took her advice.”

“She must give better advice than mine, then,” Kyle muttered as he climbed inside and fastened his seat belt. “All she ever says is ‘someday’.”

“I’m sure your mother does the very best she can for you, Kyle. I don’t imagine it’s easy for her to do her job, take care of you and fit all the other things she has to into her life. Sometimes we forget that moms are people, too.” He didn’t want to alienate the kid, but he wasn’t going to sit there and let him disrespect his beautiful mother.

“My mother doesn’t understand.” The words brimmed with pain.

“Did you talk to her about what you’re feeling?” Brendan glanced sideways, saw the reddish-brown head shake. “Well then, how could she possibly understand what’s going on inside your head?”

“She’s the one who left.”

Left what, or was it who—her husband? Brendan chewed on his thoughts before offering a comment. “Maybe she didn’t have any other choice.” He pulled up alongside a large contemporary colonial.

Chloe’s minivan in the driveway completed the mental picture he’d drawn whenever he’d thought of her. Nice neighborhood, nice house—definitely not new, but something about this home screamed comfortable. Maybe it was the handmade willow chairs on the front porch.

“Aren’t you coming in?” Kyle shoved his door open, frown in place.

“I’m coming. I hope having me here doesn’t make your mom late for work.” Maybe he should have refused the invitation?

“It won’t.” Kyle was through the front door in a flash, backpack thudding into a closet. “She’s always got everything organized.”

Organized wasn’t exactly how Brendan would have described the interior of the Tanner home, though it wasn’t a mess. More like a jumble of life. He stared at the huge treadmill that occupied a large section of the living room and wondered if that was the secret behind Nurse Tanner’s long legs.

“Come on in,” Chloe called from somewhere to his left.

Brendan followed Kyle, his nose twitching at the mingled aromas of turkey, apples and cinnamon.

Madison was setting the kitchen table. Kyle had the fridge door open in a quest for juice. Chloe, cheeks pink, hair seized in a scarf and tumbling down her back, was placing a salad on the table.

“Have a seat,” she offered. “I’ll get the casserole in a minute.”

“Thanks.” He glanced out the patio door and noticed a cleared area bounded by boards. “Are you building something?”

“Mom, build something? Are you kidding? She’s allergic to hammers.” Madison giggled. “Kyle built that. It’s for my hockey rink. If it ever gets cold enough, that is.” She took pity on Brendan’s confusion and explained. “We flood that section between the boards so we can play hockey. If it’s too warm for ice, we play on the ground. The boards are the edge of the rink.”

“You may have guessed that Madison loves sports.” Chloe sat down, heaved a sigh and smiled. “Now, let’s say grace.”

The children bowed their heads and she said something about being blessed. Then the food was passed around. Silence reigned momentarily as everyone enjoyed the tasty meal. Brendan savored each mouthful. A gorgeous woman who could cook like this while holding down a full-time job and managing two kids—no wonder she was organized.

“Mrs. Mills will be here as soon as we’re finished. Kyle, it’s your turn to scrape the dishes and load the dishwasher. Mrs. Mills shouldn’t have to do it. Then you can do your homework. You, too, Maddy. No television tonight.”

Their mingled moans were ignored.

“This casserole is delicious.” Brendan savored the last of the rich flavors on his tongue and smiled at Chloe. “You should sell the recipe.”

“I’m not sure anyone would pay, but thank you. Would you like some more or would you rather have apple brown Betty for dessert?”

“Dessert wins every time.” He accepted the huge portion she offered, listening as Madison told him all about her cat named Oz and two guinea pigs.

“Don’t forget to feed them tonight. Kanga and Roo were out of water this morning.” Chloe poured them two cups of coffee and passed one to Brendan with the cream. “Your job must be very demanding, Mr. Montgomery. What do you do in your spare time?”

“Mr. Montgomery is my dad. My name is Brendan. I’m starting a model club at the church,” he told her. “I was just wondering if Kyle would like to come. We can always use one more.”

“Models?” Kyle frowned. “What kind of models?”

“Well, the idea is to practice on smaller stuff. Cars, boats, that kind of thing. Eventually I’d like to put together a remote control kit for an airplane.”

“Cool.” Kyle jumped up, dumped his plate on the counter. He started to leave the room, but paused when his mother cleared her throat. “Course, I probably won’t be able to go because I’ll be doing women’s work,” he snapped sourly, his voice brimming with hostility.

“Kyle.” Chloe’s low voice warned him. “You live here, you eat here, you help with the dishes.”

“Nag, nag, nag.” He slammed a dish on the counter, tossing her an angry look. “That’s probably why Dad had to get away from you.”

The clank of the dishes was the only sound in the room. Brendan didn’t dare look up from his coffee cup. He didn’t want to see the hurt chagrin on Chloe’s face, nor did he want her to have to reprimand the boy in front of him which was probably why she was hesitating.

“That was a wonderful meal,” he said, changing the subject. “I’d really like to have the recipe for that casserole sometime.”

“Recipe? You cook?” Kyle’s shock was almost comical.

“If I didn’t cook, I wouldn’t eat. Besides, my mother raised us with the belief that men should be able to look after themselves or they’re still boys.” Brendan rose, carried his own plate to the sink then faced Chloe. “You need to get ready for work, don’t you?”

She nodded, eyes wide, tinges of pink embarrassment still clinging to her cheeks. “Yes, I do.”

“Why don’t you go and change while we clean up?” he said quietly. “It won’t take us long. You’re not nearly as messy as me. I generally use every article in the kitchen when I cook.”

“But…thank you.” She stared at Kyle for several moments then turned to leave the room.

Brendan said nothing, simply continued to carry the dishes to the sink where Kyle began scraping them. Madison remained at the table but didn’t seem inclined to talk. Brendan was on the point of saying something when Kyle finally set down his spatula.

“Excuse me, Mr. Montgomery. I need to talk to my mom.”

“You go ahead, Kyle. I’ll get Madison to help me if I need it.”

Head downcast, the boy left the room, hopefully to apologize.

“Kyle’s nasty sometimes. He doesn’t really mean it, he’s just mad.” Madison began loading the dishwasher, her fingers quick as she slid the plates into place. “Our dad was supposed to pick him up after school today. They were going out for supper, but Dad didn’t show. I guess he forgot. Again.”

“It happens.” Brendan tried not to sound curious. It was none of his business what happened with this family, but he felt as badly for the mother who tried so hard as he did for the kids who clearly wanted a relationship with a man who couldn’t be bothered.

Madison filled the sink with hot soapy water. “You wash and I’ll dry.”

“Why do I get to wash the pots?” he asked, catching a twinkle in her eyes.

“Because you don’t have homework,” she shot back, giggling when he dabbed soapsuds on her nose.

They’d just finished when Chloe emerged looking fresh and ready for what could only be a grueling twelve-hour shift. He noticed two things: Kyle was not with her and her beautiful hair had been confined to a twist at the back of her head. What a shame to hide such beauty.

“You really didn’t have to do them all.” She glanced at the sparkling counters. “But thank you.”

“Our pleasure.” Brendan winked at Madison, who followed his cue perfectly and bowed at the waist. The doorbell rang. “That’s my reminder to get going. Thanks again for a wonderful meal, Mrs. Tanner.”

“It’s Chloe. And you’re welcome. Thank you for helping to coach Madison. As you might have noticed, she’s delighted to have you.” She opened the door and welcomed in the older woman who stood on the doorstep. “Hi, Mrs. Mills. This is Mr. Montgomery. He coaches Madison’s soccer team with Buddy Jeffers.”

“Hello.” Mrs. Mills gave him the once-over, hung up her coat and took off as if she’d been scalded.

“Something I said?” Brendan asked, a little surprised by her hostility.

“Mrs. Mills doesn’t care much for men,” Chloe told him, her mouth stretched into a wicked grin. “I don’t think it’s personal.”

“What about Mr. Mills?”

“I don’t know.” Chloe frowned. “I assumed he’s dead and gone. I’ve never met him anyway.”

“Probably a good thing, if he is gone. For him, I mean. All that sourness would be hard to take.” He liked it when she laughed. Her face transformed, lost the lines that worry put there and made her look young and carefree. “I’ll probably see you at the hospital tonight. I want to check up on a few things about the mayor’s shooting—to do with the bullets.”

“Oh.” She blinked as if she were surprised. “Okay. Later.”

Brendan nodded, pulled the door closed behind him, shoved his hands in his pants pockets and walked toward his vehicle, slightly surprised by the chill of the now brisk wind. November in Colorado Springs was always tricky. Balmy in the morning, a raging blizzard by noon and a chinook the next day.

“Chinook weather would be good, Lord. We’ve got a chance at the finals and I’d sure like some sun for it.” He drove to his apartment, trying to decipher his thoughts about the Tanner family. The boy, Kyle, needed a little reining in. Brendan could understand his need for his father, but that didn’t excuse his attitude. Madison was a delight, easy-going, sweet and willing to try anything. Chloe stumped him.

She was gorgeous, of course. But she seemed reticent, restrained, as if she were afraid he might try to take advantage. No, that wasn’t quite right. She’d invited him into her home, made him welcome—so why did he feel she was holding him at arm’s length? Had he expected her to be as open as Madison?

Clearly there were things in the Tanner family that they were still working through, but that was true of any family. Yet he couldn’t help wondering about the kids’ father. Why hadn’t the guy shown up today? What kind of a father let his kid down like that and didn’t bother to phone and explain?

Brendan parked in his spot, rode the elevator to his apartment and grabbed his laptop. He had a lot of questions about the Tanners, but his job was to find out whatever he could about the mayor’s shooting. That subject should help keep his mind off a certain nurse.

Brendan perused the files he’d downloaded from headquarters for over an hour but couldn’t settle into it. Maybe if he checked the hospital records he’d find something else to go on. And he could make an excuse to see Chloe. In a flash he was back on the road, soon pulling into the hospital parking lot. As he arrived at the parkade entrance, he had to wait while the attendant dealt with a customer leaving the lot.

His vehicle was higher, giving Brendan a good view of the other car and the man inside. He took a second look. Something about him seemed…familiar. He thought about the man who’d spoken to Owen Frost the other night—was this the same man? A moment later the vehicle was gone and Brendan shrugged off his impression. Probably just some guy leaving after visiting his wife. Maybe Brendan had even known him once. When he’d lived here, he’d known tons of people in Colorado Springs. Still, he’d been away a lot and people moved.

But as he waited at the office for the information he’d requested, the face swam back into his mind. Not so much the face, he decided. It was something in the eyes that seemed familiar. He thought he’d seen eyes like that before; eyes that held secrets too dark to expose to daylight. Dangerous eyes.

Brendan shrugged off his speculative thoughts and accepted the file of information he’d requested.

They were just eyes. Nothing malevolent about eyes.