Chapter Eighteen

Molly arrived home from Abby’s house happy and exhausted, which thankfully meant she was too tired to ask any questions of her mother. Questions like why were there policemen outside her house again, and why did her mum look like she’d been crying. Kat quickly bundled her sleepy daughter through a bath and straight into bed. After that she lay on her own bed and stared unseeingly at the walls, feeling almost detached, as if none of this was actually happening to her. She tried not to think about the policemen camped outside. Or about the murderer who was probably watching them right now. And certainly not about Jake, whose arms she badly wanted to be held by right now.

When the phone rang, she welcomed the distraction. Especially when she realized it was her friend Mary.

“Hey, Kat, is everything okay? I didn’t want to say anything in front of the girls, but I couldn’t help but notice the police outside your house when I dropped off Abby.”

“Ah, yes, well that’s quite a long story.”

“Hey, you know me, I’m all ears.”

Welcoming the opportunity to talk, rather than to think, Kat went on to give Mary a potted summary of what had happened over the last week, culminating with the finding of the rabbit on the stairs, and what that could potentially mean.

“Oh, my goodness. Poor you. And come to think of it, poor Jake. What that man has lived through.” Kat could picture Mary shaking her head in horror. “I guess things must be getting pretty serious between the pair of you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I just assumed, as his truck was outside your house last night, and I saw it there again tonight...”

“You must be mistaken, Mary. Jake left hours ago, and he certainly wasn’t here last night.”

“Oh, well, maybe I’m wrong, but he does have a very distinctive truck.” She laughed. “Come on Kat, there’s no need to be coy with me. I thought we were friends.”

“We are, and I’m not being coy. If Jake was here, I’d tell you, but...” An image of Jake this morning flashed through her mind. Tired, drawn, saying he hadn’t slept much. Surely not. Rushing out of bed she pulled back the curtain and found Jake’s truck, parked on the road opposite. What on earth was he playing at?

Saying a hasty good-bye to Mary, Kat shoved on a dressing gown and an old pair of trainers and marched outside the house. At least it would give the police, and the crazy stalker, if they were watching, something to gawp at.

“What the hell are you doing, Jake?” she demanded when he let down the window.

“Sitting in my truck,” he replied stonily, his eyes guarded.

“Why?”

“Why not? Last time I looked, there wasn’t a law against it.” He nodded over to the police car. “They don’t seem to mind.”

“They will if I put in a complaint,” she retorted. “I’ll tell them you’re harassing me.” Oh, God, why was she still trying to pick a fight with him? Why did his rejection, for that’s what it felt like, feel so raw?

“I’m sitting here quietly, Kat.”

“Well I don’t want you here.” Exasperated, it took a huge amount of effort for her not to stamp her feet in annoyance. “For God’s sake go home, Jake. Get some sleep.”

He laughed softly. “You really think I can sleep?”

It was only then that Kat looked at him. Really looked at him. She’d often read the phrase tortured expression but never really understood it, until now. For the first time since he’d told her about the murder of his family, she began to think about what was happening from his side. The memories it must have brought back. How he still blamed himself for their deaths, and for what she was going through right now. “Come inside, Jake.” Her anger had vanished. She realized she wasn’t the only one going through hell right now. “You can crash on the sofa.”

Nodding, he reached behind for his blanket and followed her into the house.

****

It was better than staying in the truck, Jake acknowledged to himself as he lay down on the sofa, his feet perched on the armrest as the thing wasn’t designed for a man of his height. At least it was warm, and he could vaguely stretch out. More importantly, he could hear exactly what was going on in the house, rather than imagining it from a distance. That was great from a surveillance point of view, but not so great for his nerves. Every creak, every rustle and Jake was on his feet, adrenaline buzzing round his system. If this carried on for much longer he was going to become a nervous wreck.

A tap on glass had him flying off the couch and over to the window. It was a branch, moving in the wind. With a deep sigh he sat back down again. Scratch what he’d just said. He was already a nervous wreck. He wished to God that he hadn’t done as she’d wished and cancelled the bodyguard. The more people out there, watching over the house, the better. Then again, there could be an army staking the place out and it still wouldn’t be enough, not for his peace of mind.

Rolling onto his side, Jake shut his eyes. He knew he wouldn’t sleep. Not properly. Not the deep sleep that his body craved. He wouldn’t allow himself to. However, during his years on the force he’d perfected the art of cat napping. Resting, but still ready for anything. He willed himself to do the same now.

****

Wade drove past the house, took in the police car and Jake’s truck, and laughed to himself. Did they really think they could stop him from doing what he intended to do? He had time on his hands now. Thanks to Jake, he had no wife or family to rush home to. No life to speak of. That had all been snatched away from him when he’d first been put inside. Now he was an ex-con. Persona non grata. Employers wouldn’t look at him. Women turned away from him. The only thing that drove him now was making the cop suffer, like he had.

He’d planned how he was going to do that during his first long stint inside. When he’d been spat on, called names, shoved too hard against the wall, Wade had recalled the cop’s face and promised himself he’d live to pay him back. And he’d thought he had. The satisfaction he’d felt, seeing the anguish on the scumbag’s face when he’d found his slaughtered wife and child, had been incredible. The high had stayed with him for a good few months. Since then, however, he’d been locked away again. Nothing major. A fight in a bar. But that was the trouble with a prison record. Once you had one, you were forever tarnished. There was no getting away from it. Which was why, when he’d come out the second time, it had pissed him off so much to find the cop set up in a new place. New job. New family. New life. Something he wasn’t able to do.

Time to take it all away from him, forever.

****

As dawn broke, Jake levered himself off the sofa, relieved to stretch out his cramped body. He had nothing with him. No razor, no clean clothes. So he made do with a quick splash of cold water on his face in the downstairs bathroom and put the kettle on.

“Jake? What are you doing here?”

Startled, he turned round to find Molly, still in her pink pajamas, standing at the bottom of the stairs. All at once he felt the pull of his heart as he gazed at her large brown eyes and sweet face, surrounded by a crazy mess of curls. It reminded him sharply of how Kat had looked when he’d left her in bed. Had it only been a few days ago? It seemed like another lifetime. Especially when he considered that he’d never see her like that again. He was under no illusions as to why she’d let him stay on the sofa. It was because she was soft hearted. Kind. Not because she still had feelings for him. How could she, when he’d diminished himself so much in her eyes? Frankly his chances of being her lover now were about as high as his chance of being the first man to walk on Mars. He’d fight tooth and nail to remain as her friend, though. The thought of losing both Kat and Molly in that capacity as well, was too agonizing to contemplate.

Molly’s face held a slightly puzzled look as she waited for his answer. “I’m here to make your breakfast, madame.”

She giggled, her eyes widening. “Really?”

“But of course. Anything your heart would desire.” He made a big show of rummaging through the kitchen. “I can do cereal, toast.” He opened the fridge door. “Eggs, bacon.” Turning back to Molly he put his head to one side and pretended to think. “How about my specialty. Holroyd’s French toast.”

No longer hesitant, Molly perched up on the kitchen chair. “What’s that?” she demanded, laughing.

God, it was good to see her laugh. To see that she, at least, appeared unaffected by what was happening. At least for now. “You’ll just have to wait and find out,” he told her, reaching for a couple of eggs from the fridge.

After whisking the eggs, he opened a few more doors, found some bread and a frying pan, and began to prepare a feast fit for a princess. Or, at the very least, a breakfast fit for a girl as lovely as Molly.

****

Kat hesitated on the stairs, for a moment taken aback by the normality of the scene in front of her. Jake in the kitchen, making breakfast. Molly sitting on the chair, looking at him with that doting expression kids get when they find an adult they really like. But then she glanced back at Jake. Saw his drawn, tired face, something a night on her sofa hadn’t managed to rectify. Instantly she was back with the reality of the situation. The fact that a nutter wanted to harm her and Molly. That Jake was only here because he felt guilty. And that if she opened her curtains she would see a police car on her drive. No, there was nothing normal about the situation she was in at the moment.

“What are you doing up so early missy?” she asked her daughter, bending over to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, dragging at a few stray curls that had fallen across her face. “Maybe somehow I knew that Jake was going to come round and make me French toast.”

“Well why don’t you go and get dressed while he’s cooking.”

“Okay.” Wriggling off the chair, Molly went to take a peek at what Jake was doing before she bounded up the stairs.

Kat tried not to notice how muscular Jake looked in his tight-fitting T-shirt. Or how ruggedly sexy, with his unshaven face and sleep-tousled hair.

“What have you said to her?” she whispered, standing next to him.

“Nothing. Just that I was here to make her breakfast.” In between beating the eggs, he glanced down at her. “She seemed happy enough, Kat. Not worried.”

“No, she isn’t. I told her the police were here to try and catch the man who had painted on our door. She doesn’t know any more than that. I don’t want her scared,” she ended forcefully.

“And how about you?” he asked, brushing at a curl on her forehead. “Did you manage to sleep?”

She closed her eyes briefly at the tenderness of his gesture, at the warmth of his touch. How she needed to throw her arms around him and burrow herself into that solid chest. But it wasn’t an option anymore. “I slept a bit,” she told him, looking straight into his eyes for the first time in several days. They matched his face, gaunt and exhausted. Not that it dimmed his sex appeal. Even now, faced with the prospect of someone out to harm her, she could stand here, in this kitchen and want him. “Did you sleep?”

He smiled briefly, echoing her words. “A bit.”

Molly thundered back down the stairs, a welcome distraction for them both.

They all ate together at the breakfast bar. To anyone watching, it would look like a happy family at the start of an average day.

“I’m going into the station this morning,” Jake mentioned quietly as Molly got her things ready for school. “Will you let me drop you off at the school? Then later I can pick up Molly and keep her entertained while you finish up.” He dragged a hand over his unshaven chin. “Maybe watch her on that amazing new climbing frame you have.”

“Jake, I told you before, the police are keeping an eye on us, you don’t have to do this.”

“Please?” He spoke softly, but she could hear desperation in his voice. “God, Kat, I beg you, don’t shut me out.”

Her shut him out? Her chest tightened. Couldn’t he see that was the last thing she wanted? It was he who’d backed away. He who had said he couldn’t stay over when she’d asked him. He who had told her he couldn’t go through this again. “Okay.” She picked up her handbag and glanced at her watch. “You know today might just be the first day I’ll get to work early.”

After Jake had dropped them both off, Kat took Molly into her office to wait with her until her friends arrived.

“Mum, why was Jake sleeping on the couch?” Molly asked as she settled herself onto the spare chair.

Damn. She thought she’d got away with that. Trust her eagle-eyed daughter to notice. “Isn’t he your boyfriend anymore?” Molly continued.

Well, at least that got her out of the Jake-came- round-because-he’s-worried-for-our-safety answer. Not that this reply was going to be any less tricky. “No. We’ve decided to just be friends.”

“That’s a shame.” She swung her legs back and forward on the chair. “I wanted him to be my dad.”

Whoa. Kat shot a look at her daughter. Where had Molly got that one from? Then she laughed at herself. Why was she so surprised? It had been exactly what she herself had been thinking only a few days ago. Thinking and hoping. She could hardly blame her daughter for being like her mother. “You’re just saying that because he’s got horses.”

Molly shook her head rigorously. “No. It’s because he’s kind and makes me laugh.” Then she let out a slow grin. “And because he’s got horses.”

Kat was unable to do anything other than smile back and hug her daughter close. Silently she prayed the police would catch the person who was out to do them harm, and catch them quickly. Then they could start picking up their lives again. Her heart stuttered as she realized those lives wouldn’t have Jake Holroyd in them.