Chapter Seven
Rachel peeked out from between her blind slats for the third time in twenty minutes and sighed. For the past two days she’d been telling herself that keeping them closed would make her feel safer. That only kept her wondering what lurked on the other side of the glass.
She scanned the street through the narrow opening. Like in both of her prior checks, mostly darkness stared back at her, along with the same shadows from other houses’ outdoor lights on piles of shoveled snow. She’d kept her own light turned off so she could see outside.
“What are you looking for, Mommy?”
Startled by the sound, Rachel released the slat, and the whole collection of them slammed against the window.
Carissa stared up at her, wearing her favorite nightgown, a pre-transformation Cinderella on the front.
Carly, whose two-piece pajamas announced her preference for sword-bearing Mulan, reached to lift the blind herself.
“Leave it—” Rachel stopped herself and tried again. “I mean…we should keep them closed at night, okay?”
“What’s out there?” Carly asked, her brows drawn together.
If only Rachel knew.
She still wasn’t sure what the strange interaction with that driver had meant, and it felt as if she’d been holding her breath ever since. The muscles in her arms and legs ached from the constant flex of waiting. For what? Or whom?
“Why aren’t you two watching your movie?” She indicated the television where another princess flitted through an adventure on the screen, always remaining perfectly styled and coiffed. “Unless you just want to skip it and go to bed.”
The twins skittered back to the couch and snuggled together under a knitted throw. No early bed for them. Or any sleep for her. At least she still had more work to do tonight as insomnia was becoming her new thing.
To avoid making the girls more curious, she settled between them, and they found their usual spots draped over her. As the princess twirled on the screen, she even took a moment to rest her eyes.
But her lids shot open when someone rapped on the door. She leaped up from the cushions in what felt like a single, chaotic move. Giggles erupted as the twins, who’d been displaced by her leap, ran for the door.
“Girls, stop.”
She gave them an apologetic look when they turned back to her with wide eyes. Even if she couldn’t avoid panicking herself, she didn’t want to frighten them.
“I’ll get it.” She forced a smile, hoping they couldn’t see straight through her.
In the innocent world her children had known before, people could open doors without worrying who might be on the outside.
How could she explain to them that they no longer lived in that snow globe, shielded by plexiglass?
Maybe they never had. Gesturing for the girls to move behind her, she stepped to the door.
“Who is it?” She couldn’t get a good look through the peephole.
“Mick,” came a low grumble through the wood.
Rachel blinked several times, her chest tightening. Still, she flipped the bolt, unchained the second lock and opened the door a crack. The same hooded man from two days before stood on her porch in a mixture of light and shadows since her duplex neighbors had turned on their porch lamp.
“What are you doing here?”
She yanked him inside and closed the door before he could answer her question.
“What’s wrong?” he asked instead. “Are you okay? Did you see the SUV again?”
He rested his hands on her shoulders and searched her eyes, looking worried enough for the both of them.
Rachel took a step back from his touch and from her own strange impulse to lean in and let him hold her. She’d only agreed to involve him in her unauthorized investigation for the sake of her children. It could have nothing to do with her. She couldn’t let it.
Tucking her chin, she caught sight of her pastel flannel pajama pants and the loose T-shirt she’d paired with it, braless. She crossed her arms to cover her chest, her face hot. Mick’s gaze darted from her left ear to her right, avoiding looking lower. He hadn’t missed a thing.
“It’s Mr. Prentiss,” Carissa called out.
Mick blinked and glanced down at her daughters as though he’d forgotten they would be there as well.
“Hi, girls. You can call me Mick. Mr. Prentiss is my…uh…father.”
The flick of his gaze to the TV screen suggested there was more to that story, but since the twins were already bouncing at their guest’s feet and helping him remove his coat, Rachel tucked away the thought. “Then make that Mr. Mick.”
“Mommy was watching for you out the window,” Carly said.
Her cheeks burning, Rachel shot a look at Mick and caught him watching her. That only made it worse.
“Want to watch a movie with us?” Carissa pointed to the TV.
Both girls folded their hands and looked up to him with pleading eyes. Rachel would have to warn them to be more guarded around people they didn’t know well. Especially now. And while she was at it, she needed to caution herself.
“Sure,” he said. “But may I speak to your mom for a few minutes first?”
The twins nodded and hurried back to their couch.
With her arms still crossed over her chest, Rachel reached for the jacket Mick had draped over his arm and hung it on the coat rack. She wasn’t encouraging him to stay, she decided. Just being polite. He pushed his hood back but kept the sweatshirt zipped.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she said.
“I’ve been meaning to check in on you since the other day.”
“How did you know where I live?” She raised her hand. “Scratch that. I was listed as my brother’s emergency contact in his personnel file.”
“Ding. Ding. Ding. I didn’t even need the small-town information network for that one.”
“Using his records to find me wasn’t exactly ethical.”
“I’m seeing a few gray areas,” he said with a shrug. “Including not contacting the police after the incident near the fire scene.”
“Besides only having a scary vibe to report, how would you have explained why you asked me to take you to pick up your truck? The sister of the person you replaced wouldn’t be most new chiefs’ first choice.”
His lips formed an O and then closed altogether. He pointed to the front window. “But if you were watching for people through the blinds, as one of your girls mentioned, then you’re really not okay. Did something else happen?”
“That was Carly.” She pointed to the twin on the far side of the sofa. “And other than seeing white SUVs everywhere the past two days—even one regularly in the school pickup line—nothing new to report.”
“I’ve been seeing a bunch of them, too.” He unzipped his sweatshirt, revealing a navy firefighter T-shirt, this time with the word Chicago joining the Maltese cross. “Can’t anyone buy a blue vehicle like mine?”
“Speaking of your pickup, where’d you park?” She peeked out the blinds again, trying to make out a truck from among the snow-covered SUVs and sedans lining the curb. “You were right. We shouldn’t be seen together.”
“Left it at the apartment. I’ve decided I like walking.”
After placing his boots on the mat, he sidled next to her, too close, and bent to peek through the same slat. She let it fall against the window.
“I thought maybe you could show me the strange emails you found.”
He pointed to the kitchen table where Rachel’s laptop rested in the dark, over-the-ear headphones positioned on its closed lid. She shook her head.
“I already told you about them.”
“At least let me look for myself. Especially since I didn’t tell the investigators about the emails or the SUV.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He shrugged as though the decision hadn’t sat well with him, and then his gaze lifted, trapping hers in its intensity.
“Maybe I was trying to get you to trust me.”
The connection lingered until she had to look away, her mouth dry. She knew better than to trust anyone lately, so why was she so tempted to rely on the man, who remained one of the biggest obstacles for her brother ever to get his life back?
“All right. I’ll show you, but I don’t think you’ll find anything new.”
“Then let’s look.”
Rachel shook her head. “First things first.”
“What do you mean?”
With her thumb, she gestured to the television. “I believe you promised to watch a riveting princess story with two young ladies, who have—” she paused to glance at her watch “—fifteen whole minutes until bedtime.”
Rachel waited, expecting him to suddenly remember something else he needed to attend to at the station. Other than her father and brother, she was used to being disappointed by men.
“Wouldn’t want to forget that date,” he said.
Mick padded over to the couch and settled between the girls. He spread the throw over their three laps as though they watched animated royalty together twice weekly. “Okay, who’s going to tell me what I missed?”
Rachel couldn’t help but stare as the girls snuggled up to him, talking over each other to provide a play-by-play of the story. She hadn’t realized she’d given Mick a test until he’d aced it, pointing out the characters on the screen and asking more questions.
During a pause, Mick glanced over at her. “Aren’t you going to join us?”
“Yeah, Mom.” Carly waved her over. “Come watch with us.”
“I’ll be just a minute.”
She hurried upstairs and put on a bra under her pajama top.
Then, for good measure, she zipped on her University of Michigan hoodie.
When she returned and slid into the empty spot near the arm of the couch, Carissa lifted the corner of the blanket.
Rachel shook her head. As if she weren’t already too warm in the sweater, the image in her head of the four of them cuddled together—like a family—made her long for a breeze from the ceiling fan above them.
The one the landlord still hadn’t fixed.
Mick pretended to be watching the movie instead of her, but the side of his mouth lifted in one of his annoying grins.
“You almost missed the best part, Mommy,” Carissa said.
“I like the part where the hero comes to the rescue, too.” Mick slid a glance Rachel’s way, still smiling.
“I’m sure you do.” Her frown did nothing to change his expression. “But not all princesses need to be rescued. Ariel saves Prince Eric from drowning. And Rapunzel heals Flynn with her magic hair and, later, with her tears.”
Rachel would have kept on listing if Mick’s grin hadn’t turned to a chuckle. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.
“Drowning? Magic hair? What are you talking about?”
“Strong heroines. Forget it.” Guys like him probably would never understand the type of competent women she was encouraging her daughters to be.
She turned back to the screen in time to see Prince Phillip give Princess Aurora what must have been one doozy of a kiss to awaken her from a coma.
Just her luck that her daughters had chosen Sleeping Beauty with the most passive heroine ever.
She peeked over to find Mick watching her again, still smiling.
“It’s bedtime, girls.”
After a chorus of whines, the twins trailed behind her toward the stairs. At the landing, she turned back to Mick, who sat on the sofa, the blanket still on his lap.
“How about I just call you tomorrow? We can look at the stuff on the computer then.” Since she had no intention of really phoning, she didn’t worry about the rest.
“I’ll wait.”
“Really. It’s late. And I have a lot of computer work to catch up on, so…” She hoped he would take the hint this time, even if she was the one reneging on the plan.
“Still, I think I’ll wait.”
Her jaw flexed at his closed-lipped smile. Who did he think he was, making this so hard on her? But she was stuck. The girls would think she was a worse villain than the evil Maleficent in the movie they’d just watched if she tossed their cool new friend out the door.
“Fine. Then stay.” She turned back to the twins. “Girls, tell Mr. Mick good-night.”
She ushered the girls upstairs for teeth brushing and chose not to rush with bedtime reading. If he got sick of waiting, he knew where the door was and how to use it. She hated to admit that a small part of her—unfortunately more Aurora than Rapunzel—hoped he would stay.