Natalie buckled her seatbelt and waited for Drake to get into the SUV. The neighborhood was teaming with life. These neighbors would be shocked to hear that Natalie and Drake were visiting their neighborhood because of a serial killer. Unless Ulani became integral to the investigation, they would never know.
Drake settled behind the wheel and plugged his phone into the vehicle’s information system. “Call Sierra.”
The call connected.
“Before you ask”—Sierra’s voice sounded loud over the speaker—“I haven’t gone into labor since you were here. Please tell everyone I’ll call the minute it starts.”
“That’s not why I’m calling, but thanks for the update.” Drake chuckled, but it seemed forced.
“Okay. I’ve just heard the question too many times this week, and I’m about to go crazy.”
“Sorry, sis. We just love you and little Elvis.”
Sierra’s groan reverberated through the speaker. “You really should stop calling him that. You’re going to forget after he’s born, and before we know it, the nickname will stick.”
“I wouldn’t have to call him Elvis if you’d have settled on a name by now.”
“No can do.” She sounded resolute. “We have to see him first. Make sure the name fits.”
Natalie could see that point, but Drake narrowed his eyes as if it was a foreign concept for him.
“So why the phone call?” Sierra asked.
“Evidence is being messengered from PPB for you to review. A bloody blouse. It’s for a missing person case. Woman appears to have left the family, but now we have a reason to suspect the husband killed her. The local lab confirmed the blood is hers, and I want to know if, in your experience, it’s enough blood to be from a serious wound. Then find any kind of touch DNA you can on the fabric.”
“I take it this has to do with your current client,” she said.
“It does.”
Natalie waited for him to explain, but he didn’t say a word.
“And I’m assuming that’s Natalie,” Sierra said.
“That’s not important. What is important is that you have to work fast. There’s a good chance the FBI will insist on having the blouse returned to PPB today.”
“FBI? But I figured missing persons would be a PPB investigation.”
Drake glanced at Natalie, but she couldn’t read his expression. “Our client connected the missing persons investigation to a much bigger one being worked by a joint FBI/PPB task force.”
“It’s The Clipper investigation, isn’t it?” Sierra’s excited tone bounced off the vehicle’s interior. “Ohmygoodness. Are you serious right now?”
“I didn’t say that.” Drake’s tone remained calm, but just hearing Sierra’s excitement got Natalie’s heart rate going again.
“But we all know the big joint task force is working on that investigation,” Sierra said.
“There are multiple task forces with the FBI and PPB going on all the time,” Drake stated calmly.
“Yeah, but I know it’s The Clipper. Especially by your evasion. Shoot. This is going to be something else to work on.” She let out a long breath. “Let’s hope I don’t go into labor before I finish it.”
“You’ve changed your tune.”
“Hey. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I’ll call the front desk and tell them to let me know the minute the blouse arrives, and I’ll personally log and process it. I didn’t schedule anything for myself this week in case I go into labor, so I can do it right away.”
“Let me know the second you find anything.”
“Might not be possible,” Sierra said. “If the evidence comes with the usual disclaimer we work under, you know I can only provide details of my findings to the officer who submits it.”
Drake let out a frustrated breath. “You can at least tell me if you find anything they missed. Like locating another DNA sample or other evidence, right?”
“We’ll see. Gotta go now so I can get ready.” Sierra ended the call.
Drake stabbed the screen harder than necessary and clenched his steering wheel.
“Your sister sounds very dedicated,” Natalie said, deciding to focus on the positive.
Drake nodded. “It’s going to be interesting to see how she handles work and motherhood.”
“She’s taking maternity leave, right?”
“Sure, but our condos are a few steps away from work, and she has a large family of potential babysitters. I can see her sneaking down to the lab for an hour or two during her leave. Not that any of us will let her stay for long.” He chuckled.
She loved how he could go from such an intensely focused person to one who could laugh. If needed, she knew he would return to the protector who watched every inch of his surroundings and made sure people in his sphere of influence were safe. Even if a stranger came under attack, he would be right there to help. Just like he was helping her and the children.
He cranked the engine, but didn’t shift into gear. His thumb was tapping against the wheel, exuding that same nervous energy, but his focus was sharp and pinned out the front window. “You believe Ulani?”
“I do,” Natalie said. “And I really want to know where Tracey was going all those afternoons. And where she got enough cash to pay Ulani when she didn’t work. She couldn’t have taken it from their joint bank account or Kirk would’ve found out.”
“So she had some sort of income source. Income that she probably wasn’t reporting on her taxes.”
“Illegal, then,” Natalie suggested.
“Or just under the table like the way she was paying Ulani.”
“Maybe the makeup and changed clothes is a lead. She could’ve been having an affair or even been into prostitution. That would give her cash to pay Ulani.”
“I was thinking the same thing. But an affair seems unlikely to me. Would she see her lover every day between the same hours? I guess it’s possible.”
“I know she worked as a model before they got married, but if that was what she was up to, she could be risking Kirk seeing her photo somewhere, and she clearly didn’t want him to know about it. And if she continued to go out every day even after she was disfigured, then she wasn’t likely modeling. Or her face wasn’t in the photos. Could be a hand model for example.”
“If she was modeling, Erik will likely find photos when he does her background check.” Drake went quiet, and his thumbs stilled. “What about pornographic movies or videos?”
“Again, he could see them.” Natalie couldn’t reconcile this in her brain at all. “Whatever it was, she had to be coming home with a lot of cash. Good nannies are expensive.”
“Like how expensive?”
“Thirty dollars an hour for the best, and Ulani said she was making more than that.”
He let out a low whistle. “So Tracey had to be making even better money doing whatever she was doing to afford to pay Ulani. Which rules out entry-level jobs.”
“And she didn’t have a college education, so I just can’t see that she was doing legitimate work to earn this large of a salary. Plus, she would have taxes withheld in a legit job, and she’d have to report it on their tax returns.”
“Since they live in the city, there’s bound to be CCTV cameras in the area. Once we get back to the cabin, I’ll have Erik look, and maybe we can catch her on video near their house and trail her to wherever she was going. Or he can track the bus she took, and we can go from there.”
Natalie was looking forward to getting back to the cabin to spend time with the children, but what was she going to tell them about their dad? She could probably evade their questions. For now anyway. Once he was found and arrested, she would be the one to tell them.
Drake glanced at her. “Why so serious all of a sudden?”
“It’s looking like Kirk’s children will have to be told about their dad. Willow will be the only one to really understand, but the others have to at least be told he won’t be coming home, and they’ll be going into foster care.” She thought of her sister, and a lump formed in her throat.
He searched her gaze, digging deep. “Are you thinking about when you were growing up?”
She nodded and swallowed the lump like she’d done so many times. “I remember when social workers threatened to take my sister and me away. Not to our faces, of course, but we listened in and heard things we shouldn’t have. I always wondered if we would stay together. And there were times I thought about running away, just the two of us so we could be together. But we were too young, and I knew we couldn’t survive on our own. I was so afraid.”
He took her hand and cupped it between his palm and long fingers. “That must’ve been rough.”
She should probably jerk her hand free, but it felt so good to have someone care about her enough to touch her. That disappeared with Gina’s death. Sure, Natalie had work friends, but that was different. They weren’t the kinds of friends who hugged or squeezed your hand. She sometimes received hugs from children, but it wasn’t the same.
Drake was showing compassion for her alone. Tears flooded her eyes. She took a deep breath and let it out, then freed her hand.
He glanced at her, but she looked out the window, hoping he would get the hint that she needed to think. He pulled from their spot and got them on the road. She felt some sort of vibe still emanating from him, but she didn’t know what.
Maybe it had to do with their personal connection. Something she shouldn’t be encouraging for so many reasons, but especially since she wasn’t being completely truthful with him by keeping quiet about her sister. Natalie had to focus on finding Kirk and making sure he paid for killing her sister and the other women. Then restore the lives of his children to ensure they flourished.
Flourish. But how?
He glanced her way again. “You’re lost in thought.”
“Thinking about the Gentry children and their future. Few people want to take in three children so they’ll likely be separated.”
“Will they have a good chance at adoption?”
“Typically younger children do but, in this case, once the potential parents learn about their father, they might think twice—wondering if the sins of the father will revisit the children.”
“Does that happen?”
“I’ve seen it happen often enough when parents are serious offenders. It’s unfortunate, but human nature. Thankfully, most people aren’t like that, but Adopted Child Syndrome does exist.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “What’s that?’
“A term used to explain problems adopted children have in coping.” She faced him. “Here’s a fact that might shock you. According to the FBI, most serial killers in the United States were adopted.”
“Seriously, most?”
She nodded. “Not that it’s a huge number of people. The syndrome mostly affects adoptees where their adoptive families treat the adoption as a secret and don’t openly talk about it. The Gentry children will require very special parents.”
“Sounds like you have your work cut out for you to ensure they all find the right match.”
“Yes.” She let her mind wander. If only she could take them in. She would provide the kind of life and stability they needed. But these children deserved two parents as she suspected it would take two people working together to care for them properly. Still, would it be better if she took them in and kept them together than if they were all separated? She just didn’t know, but she had to decide by the time they incarcerated Kirk so if she did take the children, they wouldn’t have to be separated in foster care.
She closed her eyes and prayed then repeated positive thoughts to improve her mood. She must have dozed off, as the next thing she knew Drake was exiting the highway near his cabin.
He tapped the media screen on his dash. “Call Brendan.”
The call connected, and Brendan answered. “Yo.”
“We’re just about there,” Drake said. “Turning onto the road now. Everything quiet?”
“It’s a regular snooze fest.”
Drake huffed a laugh. “You okay, or do you need a break?”
“Aiden spelled me, and I caught a few winks while you were gone, so I’m good.”
“Roger that.” Drake ended the call and glanced at her. “He’s watching the road. We want a heads-up in plenty of time if Gentry decides to come out and play.”
She smiled at him. “You all really know what you’re doing, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s almost as if we’ve done this before.” He flashed her a quick grin, that playful smile she was coming to love, then turned his attention back to the road. They soon reached an SUV matching the one they were riding in.
Drake flashed his lights, and the other vehicle responded. When they passed it, Drake saluted his brother.
“You all are giving up so much time for this. I need to figure out a way to repay you.”
“No need. Honest. We couldn’t walk away. We have to be sure you and the kids are safe. It’s just who we are.”
“Yeah, I can see that now.” She also saw a group of men who were selfless and willing to give of their lives for others. Just like that. No questions asked. They were the guys who ran into danger to save others. And that made them a very special breed indeed.
And he was a special man, one she thanked God for putting in her life at the right time. Maybe what he’d said about accepting help was the truth, that she should just accept it as provided by God. Not feel obliged but embrace their assistance.
He glanced in his rearview mirror, and she thought about what it would be like if Kirk were following them. Coming to end her life and take his children. Might she have prevented that? “I keep wondering if I’d done something different if Kirk would be behind bars.”
“I’ve learned over the years that it does no good when looking for a fugitive to think about what could’ve been. There’s only what is and what could be. And that’s what we have to do here. Take what is and turn it into the result we need. Review what we know and plan. Hopefully the guys will have a good start on creating a solid background report on Gentry, and we can go from there.” He pulled up to the cabin and shifted into park. “But first we get something for lunch and rest.”
“Rest? But Kirk might be out there, maybe another woman in his sites. Maybe me. Maybe someone else.”
He met her gaze. “We won’t be any good to the investigation if we don’t sleep and eat regularly.”
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You need to rest. I was out of line questioning you.”
“No worries.” He opened his door then glanced back with another one of his grins. “And speaking of eating, I can smell my mom’s cooking all the way out here.”
This boyish smile revealed a dimple in the side of his left cheek. Fun loving and magnetizing. Drawing her to him in a way she hadn’t experienced before. She felt almost as if she had to have him in her life. Had to get to know him, and there was no other option for her.
Strange yet captivating.
Tired. Like he said. She was tired. That was it. She was getting loopy and needed more sleep. Sure, that was it. She would take a long nap when he and the children did, and when she woke up, this crazy need to know Drake Byrd would be gone.
Half of her wanted that to be true, but as she slid out of the SUV and joined him, the other half wanted to slip her hand in his and claim him as hers.
At the door he paused to look at her. “I’ve been dreading telling you this, but you need to know.”
“What?”
“Gentry has cameras all over the house. I saw them in several smoke detectors and one in the bookshelf door.”
Her heart sank. “So he knows I went into the basement then.”
Drake gave one sharp nod, like a guillotine coming down. “And we both know he can’t let you live to tell about it in court.”
After Drake’s last statement, he was worried Natalie would be terrified, but oddly, she appeared calm as she hung her suit coat in the entryway. Maybe she seemed relaxed with Brendan monitoring the driveway so they would be forewarned if Gentry showed up. Or maybe it was because of the warm feeling his mom created in the cabin. The smell of her hearty beef stew and crusty bread filled the air, and a roaring fire warmed the space.
She was humming from an easy chair in the family room, two-year-old Sadie on her lap. Willow sat on the couch with Drake’s father. She chewed on her lower lip and stared at a large bin of Legos sitting between them, but she wasn’t even touching them. Logan played with Duplos on the floor, building tall towers. Pong stretched out in front of the fireplace, his paws under his head as he cast a wary eye at Logan.
Drake figured his mom had brought the toys. She’d kept many of their childhood things in the attic and cleaned them up when Brendan brought Jenna’s daughter, Karlie, over for a visit. His dad slid down on the floor and started building with Logan and talking to him about structures. His dad had always been able to handle kids so well.
Natalie looked at his mom. “The bread smells amazing. I didn’t know you could bake it so fast.”
His mom got up and settled Sadie on her hip. “I make the dough in advance and always have a bucket of it in the refrigerator. All I have to do is take it out, let it rise for a bit, and then pop it into a cast iron Dutch oven and bake. I learned to do that in self-defense once I had five growing boys to feed.” She laughed.
“You make it seem simple, but to someone who doesn’t cook or bake, it seems like a big deal.”
“I can teach you in a few minutes. Only four ingredients. No kneading. No fuss. Anyone can make it.”
Natalie smiled at his mother. “If it tastes as good as it smells, I’ll take you up on it.”
“Trust me,” Drake said. “You’ll love everything Mom puts on the table.”
“And speaking of the table.” His mom held Sadie out to him. “Lunch is ready, so take this little one.”
“But I—”
“Have free hands.” She nearly pushed Sadie into his arms. “Sadie, this is my son Drake. You’ll like him.”
The baby’s lip quivered but, despite her sad little chubby face, she tugged at his emotions. Or maybe the sadness made her even more adorable. But then she started whimpering, and panic took hold of him.
He started to give Natalie a plea for help. No. No. He couldn’t let a two-year-old best him. Time to conquer that fear. Her fussing increased. Now what? He shot a quick look around the room for something to help him out. A fish mounted on the wall near the fireplace grabbed his attention. That might work. He bounced her in his arms and hurried over there.
“Fishy. Pet.” She reached up to touch it.
Drake lifted her closer, proud of himself for stilling her complaints. But how long would the fish work, and what did he do next? His mom had just been sitting with Sadie on her lap, and the child seemed contented. Had something changed other than a different person holding her? Maybe she was tired. Or hungry. That he understood.
He glanced back at his mom, who was placing the pot of stew on a hot pad on the table and looking at his dad. “Will you get Erik for lunch? Clay dropped into bed the minute he got back, so we’ll let him sleep. And we’ll take a bowl out to Brendan.”
His dad patted Logan on the head. “Be right back, sport.”
Logan cast a disappointed look at Drake’s dad but went back to building. Drake imagined his dad back when he was in his thirties. Did his dad have experience with kids, or did he learn it after he got married? A lot of law enforcement officers knew how to deal with kids. They had to. The job required it. Drake chased fugitives. Not many kids to interact with there.
“Time to wash up for lunch,” his mom announced as she carried a crusty loaf of bread on a cutting board to the table.
“Willow. Logan. Come with me.” Natalie held her hand out to the kids. They quickly got up and followed her to the bathroom.
Okay. Fine. Now what? He had the little kid. Did she need her hands washed? Did she eat bread and stew?
“In here, son,” his mother said.
He crossed the room.
“Time for lunch, sweetie.” His mom tweaked Sadie’s nose, and she giggled.
The sweetness of the sound felt like a party to Drake, and he smiled with her. But what did he do with her?
His mother moved past him, a pitcher of water in her hands. “Set her on the counter and help her wash.”
Sadie patted her hands together. “Wash.”
He started water running. Once the temperature was warm, he put some soap on her hands and lifted her over the faucet. She clapped her hands under the water, spraying herself, him, and the counter.
She giggled and did it again. And again. And he laughed with her.
“Might want to curtail the splashing a bit and finish up,” his mother said.
“Got it.” He hated to ruin Sadie’s fun, but he cupped her little hands between his and scrubbed hers and his clean then set her on the counter to dry them.
She giggled, her freckled cheeks lifting. She had a spot of water on one of them so he wiped it dry. She grabbed his hand. “Like you.”
“I…um…like you too.” He was surprised to find that he meant it.
“Sit wherever you want,” his mom said.
He scooped a damp Sadie up and went to the table.
“No booster seats.” His mom looked up from the water she was pouring. “She’ll have to sit on your lap for lunch.”
“But I don’t know—”
“She’s just a little person.” His mom set down the pitcher. “Help her if she needs it. Otherwise let her do her thing.”
Natalie looked at him. “I can take—”
“He’s got it.” His mom issued him a dare with her look, clearly deciding he needed an education in two-year-olds today.
Fine. Challenge accepted. He dropped into the chair where two plates had been set. Sadie immediately grabbed the spoon and started banging it on the plate. Did he stop her or let her have fun?
“Stop, Sadie,” Willow said. “You know Dad wouldn’t let you do that.”
Sadie immediately stopped banging, but she stuck out a trembling lower lip.
Drake grabbed a piece of bread and broke it into a few pieces and handed one to her. She shoved it into her mouth and chewed.
Crisis averted. For now. But what would she be upset about next? Was that what it was like to have a little kid? Go from one crisis to the next. If so, why did people want them?
She leaned back and smiled up at him. Ah, the smiles. That made the crisis worth it. Didn’t it?
The door opened, and Drake automatically reached for his gun, but his dad and Erik stepped inside. A deep frown erased Erik’s usual cheerful expression. Either he didn’t want to be interrupted to eat, which was a common thing with him when he was into a project, or he didn’t like what he’d discovered about Gentry.
“Everything okay?” Drake asked.
He glanced at the kids. “We’ll talk after lunch.”
Drake’s gut clenched. Tight. How could he go from the warm feeling this mini-person on his lap was giving him to thinking about a creep like Gentry? How did law enforcement officers with children do this every day? Face the horror of the world, then go home and try to live a normal life for their children?
As a single man, Drake never had an issue with it, but he was gaining a new respect for married officers with children. A new respect for his dad.
His mother came to the head of the table, a big metal ladle in her hand. “If you’ll pass your plates, I’ll dish up the stew.”
“Take Sadie’s first. I think she’s hungry.” Drake handed her plate down the line.
Natalie smiled at him, a warm approving smile, that lit something inside him far different from Sadie’s smiles. What would it be like to have children with her? Would it be like today? Working together? Splitting up the duties?
Of course they’d start with one child. Learn the ropes as they went. Not have three children right off the bat.
Wait. What if she decided to adopt these kids? No. Starting with a baby—he could perhaps see that. Think it might even be okay. But three adopted children? Um, no. That he could never do.