SB03 - The Defender's Duty Page 9
“That when he looked into my mother’s eyes, he’d seen forever.”
“Yes, well, that is how all the great love stories begin.” She smiled more broadly, her eyes focusing on Jude once again. “My husband is gone now. Been gone for seven years, but I still miss him. Every Monday, I look at the empty kitchen table and I think about the day we met and the day we’ll meet again.” There were tears in her eyes, and Jude patted her shoulder, wishing he were better at offering comfort. In some ways his job had hardened him, made him immune to tears and sadness. In others, it had softened him, serving as a constant reminder that life was finite. That loved ones wouldn’t always be around.
“I’m sure your husband is still thinking of you, too. Anticipating the moment he’ll see you again.”
“Oh, I’m sure Ladd is too busy exploring Heaven to think much about me.” She sniffed and straightened her shoulders. “But that’s more than enough of that foolishness. It’s too beautiful a day to be teary-eyed.”
“It is that, Mrs. Smithfield.” He held her elbow as she lowered herself into the car.
“Thank you, young man. Now, go on back inside. I’m sure that lovely wife of yours is wondering where you’ve gotten to.” She closed the door and drove away, her words still ringing in his ears.
I was so sure I could see forever.
Her words.
His father’s words.
A silly notion that he had no business dwelling on.
He frowned and walked back to the shop, determined to push the words out of his head. He didn’t have time to think about them, or to wonder what he’d seen gleaming so faintly in Lacey’s eyes.
It hadn’t been forever. That was for sure.
“Jude? I think I found something perfect for your mom.” Lacey’s appeared in the doorway of the shop, her eyes filled with mysteries that begged exploration.
“A red rooster teapot?” He smiled, caught in her gaze, the beauty he found there.
“It’s much cooler than that. See?” She lifted a delicate blue teapot, its handle a fragile braid intertwined with pale-yellow flowers. It looked like something his mother would enjoy. Decorative and frivolous. The kind of thing she’d never have owned when she’d had four rambunctious boys and a terror of a daughter running around the house.
“You’re right. My mother would love that.”
“It’s expensive.” She smiled apologetically as she handed it to him.
“I’m sure Detective Sinclair doesn’t mind spending a little extra on the woman who raised him.” Morgan smiled sweetly as Jude turned to face her, but the sharp interest in her gaze was unmistakable. Obviously, she was as interested in finding out why he’d come to call as he had been in finding out why she’d moved to Lakeview. He didn’t plan to fill her in. Hopefully Lacey hadn’t, either. The fewer people who knew that Jude was on the hunt, the easier it would be to surprise his prey.
“You’re right. I don’t mind. My mother is into these kinds of things.”
“What kind would that be?” Lacey asked as Morgan carefully wrapped the teapot and placed it in a bag.
“Delicate and girlie.”
“There’s nothing wrong with delicate and girlie, you know.”
Especially not when it looks like you.
The flattery almost slipped out, but Jude managed to seal his lips before it did. Good thing. Flattery led to other things. Things he wasn’t prepared for. Like expectation, commitment, relationship. None of those were on his agenda. “You’re right. There’s not. Delicate and girlie just are not very practical.”
“That teapot has a practical use. It’s going to make your mother happy.”
“There’s that.” Jude paid and walked outside, Lacey close on his heels.
“Morgan seems nice.”
“I guess she does.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I am. I want an end to this.”
“Maybe…” Her voice trailed off, but Jude knew what she was going to say. He’d said the same to himself every day for two months. Maybe it already was over. Maybe the feeling that he was being hunted was all in his head.
“I want to believe it’s over, Lacey. That what happened in New York was the end. But I don’t. And I’ve got to go with my instincts on this one. If I don’t, I might pay with my life.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?” He pulled open the car door, waiting as she got inside.
“I know what it feels like to have danger breathing down my neck and to know that at any minute it might pounce. And I know what it feels like to face it alone.”
“Is that what happened here?” He lifted her wrist, brushing back the thick coat she wore, and ran his finger along one of the scars.
“Don’t.” She jerked back, turning away and hugging her arms tight to her waist.
“Someone hurt you.”
“A lifetime ago. It’s not something I think about anymore.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t have to. Will you move so I can close the door? It’s freezing out.”
He hesitated, then did as she asked. Pressuring her to reveal what had happened would only hurt her more than she already had been.
She was shivering when he got in the car, and he took off his jacket, leaning over to tuck it around her legs.
“I’m supposed to be taking care of you. Not the other way around.” She started to tug the jacket off, but Jude stilled her hands.
“Take it until the car warms up.”
“I’m not a victim anymore, Jude. I don’t need a police officer to cover me with his coat and protect me from the ugliness that has already happened.”
Her words were more telling than she probably realized. Jude clenched his fists, his stomach churning with anger. “I’m protecting you from the cold, Lacey. That’s all.”
She frowned, her eyes filled with a million secrets. Jude knew he could stare into them forever and never find everything there was to see.
Forever?
He shoved the keys in the ignition and started the car. Dreams of forever were for people who wanted to be tied down. Men and women who were like his parents, his brothers Grayson and Tristan and his sister Piper. They weren’t for Jude. At least they’d never been before. He’d wanted independence and freedom, and he’d gotten it when he’d moved to New York. He’d been happy with it. At least for the first few years.
Lately, his New York apartment and bachelor life had seemed empty. He’d started wondering if independence and freedom cost a lot more than he was willing to pay.
He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind.
This wasn’t the time to be thinking about long-ago choices any more than it was the time to be staring into Lacey’s eyes. Jude had a killer to find. Until he did that, there was no sense thinking about the past or worrying about the future.
“Look, there’s a sign for Booker T. Washington National Monument. We can go for that walk.” Lacey sounded like she’d just won the lottery, and Jude didn’t have the heart to tell her he had more important things to do than stroll through the woods.
“Weren’t you just complaining about how cold it is outside?”
“I’ll warm up once we’re moving. I’ve been reading about the plantation where Booker T. Washington grew up. It would be fun to see it. My last client wasn’t well enough to do much more than sit in the house. I spent nine months longing for the outdoors.”
“You don’t get days off during the week?”
“Sure. Two. Like everyone else. I just don’t always take them.”
“What days do you get off working for me?”
“Monday and Sunday afternoon.”
“Not the whole day on Sunday?”
“Grayson wanted to make sure you always had a ride to church. Since I planned on attending, I didn’t mind agreeing to working Sunday morning.”
“Then I guess we owe you another half day off.”
“I won’t need it. I like to k
eep busy. Especially if it involves outings like this.” She smiled as he took the exit that led to the monument.
“In that case, we’ll have to take more of them. Maybe I can get my hands on a canoe and take you exploring the lake.” The offer popped out of Jude’s mouth before he thought it through. He liked Lacey. She was quick-witted and funny. Strong and resilient. Spending time out on the lake with her wouldn’t be a hardship. The more he thought about it, the better he liked the idea. Too bad life was so complicated. Too bad keeping Lacey close might put her in danger.
“I don’t think that would be such a good idea. Riding in a canoe with you would feel too much like…” She blushed and grabbed the door handle.
Jude stopped her before she could get out of the car. “Like what? A date?”
“Yes.”
“Would that be so bad?”
“Yes! You’re a client.”
“I won’t always be.”
“That’s not the point.” She sounded so appalled, Jude let the subject drop. Now wasn’t the time to pursue it.
Eventually Jude would take Lacey out in a canoe, show her the austere beauty of the lake in the winter.
If he survived long enough.
The thought was an unwelcome intrusion, but one Jude couldn’t ignore. The clock was ticking, and somewhere a murderer waited to strike again.
TEN
Lacey scrambled out of the car, hoping the fresh air would knock some sense into her.
Alone with Jude in a canoe?
She’d said no to the suggestion, but her mind had been screaming, Yes! Yes! A thousand times, yes!
Obviously, picking out a gift for Jude’s mother had rattled her brain, reminding Lacey of a time when she hadn’t understood what real love was. Then, she would have done anything to earn her mother’s or stepfather’s love. She hadn’t realized that neither of them were capable of more than they were already giving. It had taken half a dozen years to learn her lesson, but once she had, Lacey had given up her good-girl persona and embraced her inner rebel. It had gotten her into a world of trouble, but at least it had gotten her something.
And almost cost her everything.
She winced away from the thought, hurrying toward a dirt path at the edge of the parking lot.
“We in a hurry?” Jude got out of the car, his question stopping Lacey’s frantic retreat.
“No. Of course not.” She stood still, despite the frantic urge to run. Away from her memories. Away from Jude and his intense gaze.
“Good, because I don’t do hurry very well anymore.” He popped the trunk of his Mustang and pulled out a backpack. “I’ve got a couple of bottles of water in here and some protein bars. That should keep us going for a while.”
“I’ll carry it.” She moved toward Jude. The cold, crisp air bathed her cheeks and stung her eyes. The silence of the morning, the beauty of the winter brown fields and the evergreen trees, reminded her that the past was only that.
“I hope that was a joke.”
“Why would it be?”
“Because I can manage my own pack. Here.” He held out his jacket. “Put this on over your coat.”
“And let you freeze? I don’t think so.”
“I’ve got a fleece pullover in the pack. I’ll wear that.” He unzipped the backpack and pulled out a gray pullover.
“I’ll wear that and you can wear your coat.” Lacey tugged the sweatshirt from his hands and slipped out of her coat. It took only seconds to pull on the oversize fleece, but she was already shivering when she put her coat back on.
“You’ve got thin blood, Lacey. Better button up.” Jude took a step closer, the clean, masculine scent of him mixing with pine needles and outdoors. Before Lacey realized what he was doing, he’d buttoned the top button of her coat, his knuckles brushing against her chin, the feel of them spearing through her. She wanted to back up and step out of reach, turn toward the building that beckoned in the distance, but his touch held her captive. The warmth of his fingers as he reached around and pulled strands of hair from the collar of her coat made Lacey wonder why she’d avoided men for so long.
Because they hurt you. That’s why. They chew you up and spit you out. And sometimes they do even worse.
Better keep that in mind, little girl. Because a kid like you is sure to attract plenty of boys. All the wrong kind.
Her stepfather’s words filled her head, his warning drifting through time and distance. She hadn’t listened then, but she’d learned the hard way that the man she’d despised had been right. She did attract the wrong kind of boys. The wrong kind of men.
She shifted away, putting distance between herself and Jude the way she should have the second he’d touched her. “I can manage the rest, thanks.”
She had mittens in her pocket. Colorful ones that had been knit by an elderly woman she’d cared for several years ago. Each stitch was made with love and a prayer. Or so Lacey had been told when she’d received them as a Christmas gift.
“Nice mittens.” Jude smiled as she pulled them on, and she couldn’t blame him for being amused. Poor Mrs. Jennings had been nearly blind, and her color choices had reflected it. Bright pink, neon orange and sapphire blue were liberally mixed with deep purple and fuchsia.
“They are, aren’t they?”
“I’ve never seen anything like them. Did you make them yourself?” He hooked her arm with his and started walking toward one of the distant buildings.
“They were a gift from one of my clients.”
“She was quite an artisan.” The words might have been mocking or sincere, and Lacey shot a quick look in Jude’s direction, trying to read his expression.
“If you’re being sarcastic—”
“I’m not. I appreciate anything handcrafted. I don’t have the patience to do anything intricate or artistic, and I admire people who do. Those mittens probably took hours to make.”
“Longer than that for Mrs. Jennings. She was nearly blind and had arthritis in both hands.”
“That makes the mittens extra special, then.”
“I’ve always thought so.”
They stepped up in front of the brick building, and Jude frowned. “Looks like the monument is closed for the winter.”
“Too bad. I was really looking forward to exploring.”
“We still can. There’s a path through the woods. I don’t see any harm in taking it.”
“But—”
“Come on, Lacey, be adventurous.” He walked away, the slight hitch in his stride a reminder of why they were there. Jude needed to be out walking and exercising, rebuilding his strength so he could regain his independence.
“I am adventurous.”
“Then let’s go.” He stopped and looked over his shoulder, sunlight playing across his hard features and glinting in his eyes as he waited, making him look even more handsome.
Who was Lacey kidding?
He couldn’t get any more handsome.
Which wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t also been nice.
Why couldn’t he have been ugly and mean, or arrogant and rude? Why did he have to be handsome and kind and just a little bit sweet?
She sighed, hurrying up beside him, her heart skipping a beat as he smiled. “I knew you had it in you. Now if I get arrested, I won’t be alone.”
“You think we’re going to get arrested?” That would be hard to explain to her supervisor. Sorry, James. I can’t work for a few years. I got caught trespassing on government land and I’m in jail. Oh, and before I forget, I got my client arrested, too.
“No, but if you keep scowling like that, I might be tempted to throw you in jail.”
“I’m not scowling.”
“Sure you are.” He laughed softly and took her hand, pulling her along a path lined with thick foliage.
“You’re a pain in the neck. You know that, Jude?”
“I’ve been told it a time or two. But I don’t think that’s the real reason you’re frowning.”
�
��You’re right. It’s not. I’m frowning because I’m trying to figure out how I’m going to explain to my supervisor that I got the two of us thrown into jail.”
He laughed again, brushing strands of hair from her cheek, his fingers lingering. “I really don’t think that’s going to happen.”
“Good, because I can’t afford to lose my job.”
“You know, you’ve really surprised me, Lacey.”
“Why do you say that?” she asked, even though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Wasn’t sure she wanted a man like Jude to be surprised by her. That might lead him to ask more questions she wouldn’t answer. Couldn’t answer.
“When I met you, I thought you were the kind of woman who considered high tea an adventure. The kind who’d be content to sit back and watch the world go by. Obviously, you’re not.”
“You’re right. I’m not.”
“The thing is, now that I know who you’re not, I want to know who you are.”
“You already know who I am. Lacey Carmichael, home-care aide.”
“That’s what you do. It isn’t who you are.”
“You’re wrong. It’s exactly who I am. Come on. We were going for a walk. Remember?”
“You’re changing the subject. I guess I’m making you uncomfortable.”
“Your brother hired me to do a job, Jude. Who I am, what I think and feel, are really none of your business.”
“I keep telling myself that, but I’m not listening.”
“You should be. In a month, you’ll be back to your old self and I’ll be at a new job with a new client. We’ll both move on with our lives and forget the other person even exists.”
“You think so?”
No.
“Of course.”
“So you won’t be telling stories about me the way you do about Mrs. Jennings?
“Only if you knit me colorful mittens.”
He laughed, the sound ringing out through the woods, nearly hiding the sound of something crashing through the underbrush.
Something or someone.
A blur of movement. A figure racing out onto the path. Featureless. Terrifying. Lacey screamed, felt something slam into her. Jude. Shoving her back the way they’d come, shouting for her to run.