Two #2
“Good,” I said, not moving, still holding her because she had a death grip on me.
“Who’re you?”
I smiled but didn’t laugh. I would have thought she’d ask sooner, but that was all right. “I’m Nash Miller.”
Long sigh.
“If you want pancakes, I can make you some.”
“I don’t actually even like pancakes,” she muttered, and as I felt her ease back, I let go. She didn’t put any distance between us, instead staring at me, her hands remaining on my shoulders. “I thought they would be easy to make, and I’m really hungry.”
“What would you like?”
“An omelet with ham and cheese.”
“Do you have all the stuff to make that?”
“No,” she told me, sounding close to tears. “All we have is frozen junk, and I can’t eat it anymore. Ever since Mom left, we —oh,” she gasped, slapping her hand over her mouth, gazing at me with wide eyes.
“Sweetheart, I know your mother left you guys.”
Slowly, she let her hand fall away.
“And you can talk to me about your mother anytime.”
She jolted, her big blue-green eyes somehow getting even wider. “I can?”
“Yep. And if you have questions about WITSEC or anything else, I can explain that to you, because I know how all that works.”
“Okay.”
We were both quiet a moment.
“May I ask you a question now?”
“Sure,” she said with a shrug.
“Why was the front door unlocked?”
“It was?” She didn’t sound overly concerned or even surprised. It was more of a huh moment.
“Yes,” I responded, wondering over her nonchalance.
She thought a second. “Maybe when I went to get the mail yesterday, I didn’t lock it when I came back inside.”
Which meant that all night long the front door had been unlocked. That wasn’t going to give me heart palpitations or anything. “Let’s not do that again, all right?”
“Sometimes I don’t remember.”
“I’m here now, so I’ll remind you.”
“That sounds good. Can it be my turn to ask a question?”
“Of course, go ahead.”
“Do you know why my mom didn’t want me anymore?”
Of course that would be the question. “That I don’t know, ’cause you look all right to me, and I wouldn’t’ve left ya.”
“You wouldn’t?”
“No, love. I don’t ever leave what’s mine.”
That quickly, she returned to my embrace, and she was sobbing into the side of my neck with her string-bean arms wrapped around me.
I held her tight, rubbing her back, rocking her a bit, telling her I was there to help her and watch over her and keep her safe.
It took some time to get all that out of her system, and when she was done, I asked where her bathroom was.
We walked to her room, out of the kitchen, through the dining room and around a wall that, on the other side of, were stairs that led up to the second floor.
Her room, last one on the right, was a wonderland of fairy lights, murals, and flower rugs.
Her bathroom was all mermaids, from the shower curtain to the light fixture to the shell-shaped sink.
It made me happy to see. Easy to see how loved she was, and that helped soothe my worry.
Once there, I pulled tissue after tissue and had her blow her nose until there was nothing left.
I then supervised the washing of the face, and she showed me her routine.
I had no idea ten-year-olds even did that, but what I knew about little girls left a lot to be desired.
She still appeared blotchy after all that, and her eyes were puffy, but it was as good as it was going to get.
I made sure she felt better before we left her room.
“Okay,” I said once we were back in the kitchen. “Sounds like we gotta go shopping, but first, do you know where everyone is?”
She nodded.
“Would you tell me?”
There was squinting then, and I couldn’t help smiling.
“I know your name, and I know you’re here to take care of me, but who are you, exactly?”
I pulled my ID out for her and passed it over.
After a moment of scrutiny, which I was careful not to smile over—this was serious, after all—she looked up at me. “Chicago?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Lifting my jacket, I showed her my shoulder holster and the Glock 19 there, and then passed her my conceal and carry license.
“So if someone tried to hurt me, you would shoot them.”
Wow. Straight to violence with this one. “Well, I would do other things first, and even then, I would wound them, not kill them.”
“That’s good.” She gave me back my licenses, studying my face. “Do you have pictures of your kids?”
“I don’t have any kids.”
“Are you married?”
It was an interrogation, and compared to others I’d been on the receiving end of, this was by far the best one ever. “No, I’m not.”
“How come?”
“Never found the right person.”
She crossed her arms. “Lots of women around here want to date my dad.”
I had no doubt. Luke Duchesne, with his short dirty-blond hair, stubble, golden tan, and deep, dark blue-green eyes he’d passed on to all three kids in various shades, was a beautiful man.
If the pictures in the file did him any justice, I was betting lots of women had designs on him.
As both men and women caught my eye, I’d noticed right away.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “But he works so much, he doesn’t have time to date.”
“I see.”
“He hardly has time to see us,” she said under her breath.
“I’m sorry about that.”
There were quick tears then.
Using my thumb, I got her left cheek and under her eye. “Try not to cry any more, or we’ll have to go wash the sad off a second time.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath, steadying herself.
“All right, now, we need to feed you, so we gotta go get groceries, as long as you’re sure there’s nothing in the refrigerator.”
“Go see. It’s all in the freezer. Dad stocked it before he left.”
After a quick perusal, I concluded that she was not wrong. “Okay, so yeah, we gotta go, because I can’t eat any of that.”
“It’s gross, right?”
“It’s not gross,” I said, not wanting to throw her father under the bus. “But I’m not one for processed food. I eat a lot of veggies and grilled chicken.”
“Gross.”
“But we can make other things too,” I offered.
The instant smile, how big her eyes grew, was quite telling. She was starved for home-cooked meals. I was betting, from the look of the large kitchen, that her mother had been the one making the meals for her family.
“I told him not to get so much junk, but he was in a hurry to leave.”
Which sounded horrible. “Well,” I said, closing the door, “can we walk it, or is there a car here I can borrow?”
“You could drive Mom’s Jeep. The keys are on the hooks by the garage door.”
“Sounds good. Now, where is everybody, honey?”
“Dad is in some place called Blaze or Blake or something like that. I wasn’t really listening, and he didn’t write it down. I do know he’s on a big landscaping job for a millionaire or a billionaire, but…”
“You weren’t really listening,” I concluded, smiling at her.
She nodded. “Yeah. I know he had to go and not miss this job because I heard him tell Grampy we need the money.”
Which was not great that she knew, but eavesdropping was probably something that happened all the time when you had kids.
“Aunt Shelly was supposed to check on us, but I haven’t seen her, and I don’t have her number.”
How did she not have her number? “Your father didn’t leave an emergency contact list for you in case something went wrong?”
She shook her head. “I think because Griff is here too.”
Disappointing. “Okay,” I replied, thinking that I was going to murder Aunt Shelly unless she had a hell of an excuse for not showing up. “And where is your brother?—”
“She’s not actually my aunt,” Tatum clarified. “She’s one of Mom’s friends.”
“Gotcha.”
She stared at me.
“Yes?”
“It’s so weird to be saying Mom after so long. None of us ever say it.”
“Why’s that?”
“I dunno.”
“Why do you think?”
She was quiet, ruminating. I liked how her mind worked, that she didn’t blurt out answers, instead giving real thought to my questions. “I don’t want to make Dar or Griff sad, and I don’t want Dad to get angry.”
“Okay,” I said, thinking that I could, and would, change that. No one was going to heal by not talking. That was not how it worked, and as a fixer, it was in our mandate to fix everything. I wasn’t simply a bodyguard. I was there to do more. “Now, where is Darwin?”
“He’s at his friend Teddy’s house. He has a biology test on Tuesday, and he didn’t want to be here with me and Griff. He likes to study without being bugged.”
This wasn’t making any sense. “Don’t you all have school tomorrow?”
“No. Tomorrow is a teacher-in-service day, so we’re all off.”
“So as far as you know, Darwin will be at Teddy’s until tomorrow night.”
She laughed suddenly, which came off decidedly evil. It surprised me, but I loved the sound. She was utterly adorable. “I don’t think so. He forgot about something.”
“And what’s that?” I asked, unable not to smile.
“Teddy’s family, they’re church people, and I’ll bet you a dollar that Teddy’s mom brings Darwin home today because we’re not church people and he won’t want to go.”
“Why aren’t you church people?”
“Because my mom is a Wiccan—that’s why our front door used to be purple before Dad painted it—and Dad is an atheist. He says if there was a God, then all the bad things that happen in the world wouldn’t be allowed because how does that make any sense?”
I was not about to have a discussion of faith with her midmorning on a Sunday, so I let that go. “So you think Darwin will get dropped off here shortly before church.”
“Yep.”
“Okay. Is Griffin here?”
She shook her head. “He left on Friday night before Aunt Shelly was supposed to visit.”
And now I was getting mad, so I took a breath to calm down. “So you’ve been here alone since Friday night?”
Quick nod.
I grinned at her. “You’re very brave. When I was ten, I don’t know that I would have been able to be all alone.”