Part 7 (1/2)
Grady narrowed his gaze. ”I'm asking now.”
Flynn sliced a quick look toward the other end of the room. It wasn't a goodsign. ”Riaasked me to look into a case one of the other homicide guys isworking on,” he said in a low voice. ”She thinks maybe the coroner made amistake.”
”What kind of case?”
”Crib death. Six-month-old girl. The mom comes to a support group at theCenter. SinceRia is-or was-leaving on vacation tomorrow morning, she asked meto drop by tonight.”
Another question answered, Grady thought. It was annoying as h.e.l.l to realize he'd been jealous of his own brother.
”She's the suspect, the mom?”
Flynn shook his head. ”The dad. Seems the guy is ex-Army and something less than a Boy Scout. Truck driver. Apparently he's not crazy about his wife coming to meetings, so the wife sneaks away when he's out of town on arun.Ria's afraid the guy might get violent if he finds out she disobeyed him.”
”b.a.s.t.a.r.d,” Grady muttered, running hand over the back of his neck.
”I hear you.” Flynn grimaced. ”Thing is, a guy with that kind of temper mightjust lose it with a crying kid. Maybe shove a pillow in his face.”
Grady nodded. ”It's happened. Too many d.a.m.n times.”
Both men fell silent. Grady thought back to the first time he'd walked into achild's bedroom and stared pure evil in the face. The mother had been no morethan eighteen, an apathetic, undernourished drug addict, as guilty as thestepfather. The guy had been a bruiser, strung out on smack. The little girlhad been crying because she was hungry. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d used his fists.
The memory had his gut knotting, and he sucked in against the spike of hot,angry pain. ”First thing tomorrow, you pull the file.” The words were outbefore he remembered he was speaking to his brother, not a subordinate.”Sorry,” he muttered when Flynn lifted a brow. ”That was out of line.”
”A week from now I'd have to bust you on it, but I figure tonight you'restill in a state of grace, so I'll let it pa.s.s.”
Grady was almost too tired to grin, but habit had him making the effort,anyway. ”Put out the word, okay? No phone calls or visits until we get thelogistics of this thing sorted out.”
”I'll do it, but you'll owe me,” Flynn said before letting himself out.
Her son was proving to be a grumpy patient. He'd balked at taking the Tylenoland grumbled about the dorky pajamas his father had picked out. Which hadn'tsurprisedRia all that much, given the fact that Grady slept in the buff, withthe windows wide open winter and summer and an aversion to anything heavierthan a sheet covering him.
Jimmy's bedroom furniture was in storage. The bed he'd loved, thetwindressers she'd refinished, the rocking chair where they'd cuddled during storyhour. Tomorrow she would call the transfer company and have everythingreturned.
It wouldn't take much to convert the den into a room more suited to a six-year-old. New curtains, some bright posters, she decided, as she guidedJimmy to the daybed she'd made up with clean sheets. Whatever he wanted, she'dgive him-and to h.e.l.l with anyone who criticized her for spoiling him.
She felt a surge of happiness so great it nearly swamped her. Finally it wa.s.sinking in. Her baby was really home. Her eyes filled with tears as she smileddown at him. He didn't smile back. In fact, he hadn't smiled once since hisarrival. It would take a little time and patience, she reminded herself.
”I know this seems strange to you, sweetie, but I didn't know you'd be cominghome tonight,” she said, drawing back the sheet to let him climb in. Hestudiously avoided her gaze as he scrambled onto the mattress.
Though he was visibly drooping from exhaustion, and he was still too paleforRia's liking, she had to admit his color was better. His fever was hoveringjust above normal.
”You've had a long day, haven't you?” she asked gently as she sat on the edgeof the bed. ”And a really lousy night, poor darling. But you'll feel a lotbetter tomorrow.”
He moved one shoulder, his gaze fixed on the knees he'd drawn close to hischest. It was about as close to the fetal position as he could get.
She recalled herself as his age, huddling into a strange bed with the memoryof her mother's screams still echoing in her head. Her foster mother hadbrought her chicken soup and sat on the side of the bed while she ate, talkingabout the garden she'd planted that day.
Riaremembered being lulled to sleep by the steady drone of Mother Dee'svoice. Her happiest memories were of that small, sunny house on the outskirtsof Indianapolis. She'd stayed there for two years before Virginia Madison hadcome to claim her again.Ria remembered clinging to Mother Dee's neck,terrified of the pale, skeletally thin woman with intense blue eyes who'd comeswooping into her bedroom to smother her with wet kisses.
Let him come to you, she reminded herself firmly. But the need to touch himwas nearly irresistible. To appease it, she smoothed the sheet, adjusted thepillow, and inhaled the warm scent of soap and warm little boy.
She felt something tear inside her, followed by a flood of emotion sopowerful it took all of the control she possessed to sit quietly instead ofs.n.a.t.c.hing him into her arms. Soon, she promised herself. When he was ready toaccept her love.
Though he was ignoring her, she smiled, knowing he'd hear it in her voice.”I'll leave the light on in the hall, just in case you need to use thebathroom in the night.”
She waited, but the boy remained stubbornly silent.
”Would you like another gla.s.s of water? Or some juice?” She paused, then gaveup. ”Well, good night then, sweetheart. I love you.”
He glanced up then, the eyes that were nearly identical to his father'sfilled with misery.
”How long do I have to stay here?” he muttered.
”This is your home, now, sweetheart,” she said as gently as she could.”Tomorrow we'll start fixing up this room just the way you like it.”
His gaze jerked back to his knees, and his mouth took on a mutinousslant.Ria's heart ached. Inside she was dying, but somehow she managed to asklightly, ”Guess this isn't a good time for your mommy to ask for a hug, huh?”
He shot her a startled look before sinking down into the mattress and turningover to bury his face in the pillow.
Ria'shand wasn't quite steady as she smoothed his hair. ”Night-nightsweetheart.”
Telling herself tomorrow would be better, she got up and walked to the doorwhere she paused to look back at the boy in the bed. He was so big. Twice asbig as she remembered.
Her Jimmy, she thought as she turned off the light and stepped into the hall.Blinking away the sudden tears, she closed the door to a crack behind her. Shewould check on him again after Grady left.
It was quiet in the rest of the house, with only the hum of the central airbreaking the stillness. As she walked into the living room, she felt afamiliar tension gripping her muscles. Dozens of questions swirled in herhead, questions only Grady could answer.
She found him in the living room stripping off his wet T-s.h.i.+rt. She didn'tquite suck in. After all, she'd seen this man naked countless times, had lainwith her body against his, skin to skin. When they'd made love, she'd feltthose powerful muscles bunch and flex beneath her. Yet somehow she'd madeherself forget the physical beauty of his body.
He was older now. Broader, yet somehow even more potently male, withslab-hard muscles that she knew would feel warm and unyielding beneath herhands and an impressive symmetry of ma.s.sive shoulders and tapering torso.Vitality seemed to radiate from his pores.
The sun-kissed hair covering his sculpted pectoral muscles seemed almostwhite against the burned-in tan. Her heart gave a lurch as she caught sight ofthe puckered scars that had faded with time, but would never disappear.
”Is your baby all tucked in?” he asked as she approached.
”So far, so good.” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her denim skirtand looked around. ”Is Flynn gone?”
”Just left.” He wadded up his wet s.h.i.+rt, then squatted to shove it into aside pocket of the old duffel bag before rooting around inside the bag itself.Frowning, he went through three sadly wrinkled replacements before he finallysettled on a pale blue polo s.h.i.+rt. He gave it a testing sniff, then offeredher a rueful glance as he straightened to his full height.
”Agent Mendoza was partial to cheap cigars. Whole house reeked of smoke.”
She was surprised to find herself smiling. ”I a.s.sume he's not married?”
”Engaged. He claims they're negotiating house rules.”
”What doesshe say?”
”Pretty much the same thing you told me before you agreed to taking me on.Quit or hit the road.”