Chapter Fifty Raine
Chapter Fifty
Raine
I jolted upright in bed, fists clenched, and pulled Molly against me. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
Her screams softened to whimpers.
Then his deep voice. “Raine.”
“What’re you doing here, Ken?”
Startled, he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “The front door was unlocked. I called, but you didn’t answer. I was worried. So I came looking for you.”
“Upstairs and into my bedroom?” Had I left the door unlocked? That wasn’t like me.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He held up his hands. “I’ll go downstairs.”
I tightened my hold on Molly. “You can leave the house.”
“We need to talk,” he said.
Molly looked up at me, her eyes watery and tight with panic. “Who’s that?”
“It’s Ken, my ex-husband. He’s going to wait in the kitchen.”
“I helped Raine find you,” he said.
I scowled at him. “Leave now.”
He nodded and left. I listened to the steady thud of his steps moving down the hallway and the stairs.
My heart raced with fear that beat hard against my chest. It only slowed so I could shift directions toward anger. I thought again about the lock on the front door. I’d locked it, right? I didn’t know. Maybe I hadn’t. Either way, Ken had overstepped.
“Let’s go downstairs,” I said.
“Is he going to be there?”
“Probably. But he won’t be a problem,” I said. “I’ll hear him out and then make him leave.”
“What if he doesn’t want to leave?” She sounded small, scared.
“He’ll leave.”
She twisted her face up to mine. “But what if he doesn’t?”
My smile didn’t feel real. “I’ll make him.”
“He’s big. Better call the sheriff. He’s bigger.”
Out of the mouths of children. I glanced at the clock. We’d been sleeping an hour. As tempting as it was to call Judson, I didn’t want to depend on him. “Sounds like a plan.”
“I have to pee,” Molly said.
After the toilet flushed and she washed her hands, I took her pink hairbrush off the dresser, brushed her hair and mine, and then we headed downstairs. We found Ken in the kitchen.
There was a big bag of fresh bagels on the counter, along with tubs of cream cheese and a carton of juice.
“Thought you might be hungry,” he said. “And I guessed the refrigerator might be empty.”
Several years of living with me had taught him that I wasn’t good about remembering food. “Molly, these look pretty good.”
“I’ve had three,” Ken offered. “Do you want a bagel?”
Tension rippled through her body. She looked up at me, and I nodded. She moved toward a barstool, and I helped her up on the seat. I set a plate, a bagel, and some cream cheese in front of her.
Ken held up a plastic knife and an open tub of cream cheese. “Do you want to spread, or do you want me to?”
“Me.”
“I thought so,” he said. “You’re a big girl.”
He handed her the plastic knife. “Juice?”
“Yes, please.”
Ken grabbed a coffee mug and filled it halfway with juice. “You really are pretty grown up, aren’t you, Molly?”
“I know.” The child spoke with a bravado mirroring Maria’s bold confidence.
He set the mug in front of her. “Coffee for kids. You can drink your juice like a grown-up.”
A faint smile flickered on Molly’s lips. I could tell she was slightly charmed by Ken. He was hard to resist when his light and attention shone on you. He could make the world a better place. And when the light went dark, the loneliness cut deep.
Molly set about spreading a thick layer of cream cheese over her bagel. That gave me a chance to brew a pot of coffee. “Molly, I’m going to stand on the back porch. Call me if you need me.”
Cream cheese encircled her lips. “Okay.”
She sounded calm enough, but I caught her reflection in the glass panels of the back door.
She was watching me closely. I made a point to pause outside by the window.
As I expected, Ken followed, a coffee in his hand.
He was making himself at home, as if he hadn’t gotten the memo that there wasn’t an us anymore.
This wasn’t his house, and my life no longer intersected with his.
Ken walked past me to the railing and stared out over the fields. “I forgot how stunning this land is.”
“Yes, it is.”
He sipped his coffee. “Have you scheduled the funerals?”
“No date or time yet. But I’ve talked to the funeral home.”
“How’re you going to handle it?”
He’d been like this after my attack. Taking charge, handling details. But strings always dangled close to Ken. “I’ll keep you posted.”
“Don’t be offended. I’m not taking over. But I was their friend, too. We all ran together in high school.”
I saw the charm for what it was, but I still felt myself softening. “I’ll text you when I have the date and time.”
“Good.”
“Thanks for the food, Ken. But time for you to leave.”
He continued to stare at the land, sipping coffee. I thought he hadn’t heard me when he turned. “I’ll be in town for the next week.”
I cradled my cup, drawing the heat into my chilled fingers. “Why?”
“Because I want to be here for the funeral. And you.”
Invisible tethers stretched out, encircling me. “We don’t do that anymore, Ken.”
“Do what?”
“Be there for each other. We aren’t a we anymore.”
Ken grinned. “You’re so black and white, Raine. We’ll always have a connection. I can’t picture a world without you in it.”
“You’ll figure it out. Time to go.”
He moved toward the back door.
I blocked the door. “No need to go inside again. Set your cup down and walk the garden path back to your car.”
“I want to say goodbye to Molly. She’s in a sensitive place. She’ll be worried about people just appearing and disappearing from her life.”
“Bagels are not a long-term commitment, Ken.”
His relaxed features didn’t waver. “I also found her drugged in a motel room. That’s got to count for something, right?”
“I’m grateful for that. But I can take it from here.” I remained in front of the door.
Ken’s scent was a mix of expensive aftershave and him. He always liked the finer things, dressed well, and he had more hair products than I did. Even as I peered behind the exterior, his slow smile softened my resolve. “I just want to say goodbye to Molly.”
A glance in the window found Molly staring at us. Her expression was a mixture of curiosity and worry. “Fine. Say goodbye. And leave.”
As I stepped aside, his grin widened. He set his cup in the sink, leaning against the counter as he spoke to Molly. I couldn’t hear. She smiled. Ah, kid, the man could charm the best of us.
He rubbed her on the head and strode out of the house as if he owned it.
Inside, I refilled my cup. “How’s the bagel?”
“Good. Ken is nice.”
“He sure can be.”
“He’s the one that was bad?”
How could I boil this down to the level of a five-year-old? “He got into trouble a few times.”
Her brow furrowed. “If I get in trouble, are you going to divorce me?”
“No. Ken is different.”
“How?”
“You’re my family. I told your mother years ago if anything happened to her, I would take you.”
“But what if I’m bad?”
“You’ll never be that bad.”
She was silent for a moment. “I want to go home.”
I’d already breached the crime scene tape. I didn’t have any qualms about returning, but I didn’t know how the crime scene debris would affect Molly. “It needs to be cleaned first.”
“It always needs to be cleaned.”
“I can’t really explain everything right now, Molly. But trust me. When I can get a crew in there and clean it up, I’ll take you home. Deal?”
“Okay.” She bit into the bagel. “Can I have more juice?”
The front bell rang, echoing in the house. Great. Ken was back. He knew walking into my house stretched boundaries. He knew how to press it right up to deniable plausibility.
Ready to threaten police action, I strode toward the door. If Ken truly loved anything, it was his job and the respect of his superiors. I’d threatened once to tell his bosses about his antics, and that had caused him to back off. I’d still play that card.
When I opened the door, I was surprised to see Judson. Color warmed my cheeks as I thought about him crossing paths with Ken. He had to be wondering if my ex and I were rekindling the fire.
“Hey, what brings you out here?” I asked.
“Can I come in?”
“Sure.” I moved aside. As he stepped into the entryway, the space shrank a little.
“How’s Molly?”
“Eating a bagel in the kitchen.”
“You bought food?”
“No. Ken dropped by. He brought them.”
A frown layered on a scowl. “Ken.”
“Came right in, unannounced. He let himself in, came upstairs, and found Molly and me napping.”
“If he does that again, call me.”
“I thought about it. He said he was trying to help.”
Judson’s jaw flexed. “Is Molly okay?”
“She’s fine, considering. And I’m having all the locks on the house changed.”
“I know a guy if you need a recommendation.”
“That would be great.”
He pulled out his phone and typed, and a second later mine dinged. “Can I talk to Molly?”
“About?”
“Trying to get a general sense of how it was in her house.”
“Sure. Just go easy. She’s still kind of in shock, I think.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“There’s fresh coffee in the pot. And more bagels than we can eat in a week.”
“Thanks.”
I followed Judson as he strode toward the kitchen. Ken always brought flowers or candies. Judson wasn’t that smooth.
Judson grabbed a cup, poured some coffee, movements unhurried, no trace of the stress of a triple homicide.
“Molly,” he said, keeping his voice easy. “I’m Judson,” he said. “Remember me? I came to dinner at your house with your parents. And I drove you home from the hospital.”
“Sure. Mommy made pasta. You strapped in my car seat.”
“That’s exactly right.” He remained on the other side of the island but leaned toward her as he spoke. No edge. No desperation. Just two folks talking. Most cops radiated need—the itch to close cases all-consuming—but not Judson.
Still, Molly studied him warily. She wasn’t as charmed by him as she had been by Ken. She had figured out that Judson wanted something. Ken did, too, but he was slicker.
“I’m sorry about your mom and dad.”
Her brow knotted. “I want them to come home.”
“I do, too. I knew them when we were all kids. Raine, too. We went to school together.”
“I saw the picture Dad had of everyone.”
He grinned. “I guess I’m a lot older and fatter now.”
A slight smile.