Drake held Sadie as she dug into the sand with her shovel. He wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but everyone was having such fun in the sun and sand. His brothers had headed back to Portland, but Erik left Pong behind so Logan could play with him. Plus, the dog loved running on the beach. And their parents had stayed too. His mom insisted on cooking for all of them. In fact, after everyone went to bed, she’d prepared food for a picnic lunch. He’d woken up to the smell of fried chicken and the sight of her mixing a big bowl of potato salad in the kitchen. And a pan of gooey brownies cooled on the counter.
Logan had wanted a brownie for breakfast, and Drake’s mom agreed to let him have it, something she would never have done when they were growing up. But Drake had to admit the smile she got from the little boy was worth it. Especially knowing that it might be the last day he smiled for some time.
Logan whooped, and Drake looked down the beach where the boy was running with Pong and Natalie, their feet splashing in the rolling waves. Wind peppered her face that was already red from the cold and wind, but she looked so alive. So vital. And so beautiful. No makeup or all those girly products or even fashionable clothes and her high heels. Just the boy jeans, white T-shirt, and navy blue hoodie that Drake’s dad had bought.
As the day had progressed, she’d been so full of life. So enticing that he knew he needed to be with her. But what about these kids? Could he be with a woman who had three kids?
Three kids. Even three great kids like the Gentry trio would be hard to adjust to, a change so big he still didn’t know if he could make it. The weight of the decision felt like a boulder tied around his neck, threatening to suffocate him.
Sadie swiveled in his arms and clapped sandy hands on his cheeks. “Potty. Gotta go. Now.”
Drake jumped up and yelled to Natalie, but she didn’t hear him over the rushing surf.
“Hurry!” Sadie said.
Hang waiting on Natalie. He turned and powered through the sand and burst into the house. “Mom. Bathroom, now.”
She flew out of the kitchen, scooped the child from his arms, and charged down the hall. He’d depended on his mother for so many things over the years, but never to take a little girl to the bathroom. He would’ve done it, but no sense in putting himself in a precarious position with all the issues these days around potential sexual abuse of minors.
The front door opened, and Natalie stepped in with Willow and Logan. “Everything okay?”
“Potty break. Mom’s got her.”
“Ah.” Natalie’s soft smile and her bright eyes really got to him. “These two could stand to take restroom breaks too.”
“I don’t haveta go.” Willow gnawed on her lip.
“You okay, kiddo?” Drake asked.
She stubbed her toe into the tile floor. “Had to bring my kite down to come in here.”
“We can fly it again,” Natalie told her.
She fired at testy look at Natalie. “But I had it really high.”
If Drake’s mom had seen that look, she would’ve called the child out, but Drake figured with all that was going on in Willow’s life, he’d cut her some slack. As apparently did Natalie.
“I’ll help you get the kite back up there.” Drake patted himself on the chest. “I was the champion kite flyer in the family.”
His dad snorted from the living room.
Drake spun. “Well, I was. You used to tell me that all the time.”
Sadie toddled down the hall, and his mother stepped after her. “Your father told all of you kids that.”
“Aw, man.” Drake mocked offense in hopes of making Willow laugh. He would do just about anything to get that kid to smile. “You’re up next, Willow, so we can get back out there. Maybe we can set a record height.”
“You’re gonna need me for that.” Grinning, his dad got up.
“Wait for me. Promise?” Willow’s eyes were alight with excitement.
Drake nodded, reveling in the fact that he put the joy on her face.
She charged across the room and down the hall toward the bathroom.
“You might as well grab the picnic basket while you’re in here,” his mom said.
“You’re going to have lunch with us, aren’t you?” Natalie asked.
“I thought I’d let you all enjoy yourself without the old people around.” She gave Russ a pointed look.
His smile fell. “I have some things to catch up on in here.”
“C’mon, Dad,” Drake said. “Join us. Willow would love to have an expert like you teach her how to get her kite up into the sky.”
“You’re sure.” He cast a wary look at Drake’s mom.
“Oh, go ahead.” His mother’s reluctance deepened her tone.
Drake gave her a hug. “You can come too, Mom. It’ll be fun.”
“More like you’re avoiding some feelings you need to deal with,” she whispered in his ear.
Yeah, more like that.
Natalie tucked Willow into the guest bed on the first floor of her townhouse. The space served as Natalie’s office and guest room, but children had never occupied it. She looked at Willow and marveled at everything that had happened in a few short days. The younger children were going with the flow for the most part, Logan wanting his dad at times, but Erik and Drake had stepped in. They weren’t here tonight, though, when Logan didn’t want to go to bed and asked for his dad.
Kirk might be in custody, but Natalie wasn’t going to tell the children about their dad until he was officially charged. She’d seen time and time again in court when people were released on technicalities before charges were brought. True that none of those people were potential serial killers, but still, she wanted to be cautious with the children’s fragile psyches.
“Sleep tight, sweetheart.” Natalie pressed a kiss on Willow’s forehead. So what if that wasn’t allowed on the job? The child’s expression said she was crying out for love and affection, and Natalie couldn’t turn her back on Willow’s pain.
Willow grabbed Natalie’s hand. “My dad’s not coming back for us, is he?”
“I don’t know,” Natalie answered honestly. “Get a good night’s sleep, and maybe we’ll know tomorrow.”
She released Natalie’s hand and clutched the personal alarm that Drake had given to her.
“Are you afraid of something?” Natalie asked.
“I like it better when Drake is with us.”
“Because you like him?”
“Because he won’t let bad things happen.”
Nobody had that kind of power, but Natalie didn’t say so. “How about I ask him to come over and spend the night on the couch?”
Natalie doubted he would, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. Now that they were safe, spending time with them wouldn’t be his top priority.
Excitement. Adrenaline. A challenge. Those were what he would be seeking. Not caring for a young child’s fears. Sure he’d bonded with the kids for the time they were together, but he’d made it perfectly clear right from the start that he wasn’t ready to settle down and have a family. She had no one to blame but herself if she wanted to believe his growing to care for the Gentry children would change anything.
“It’s okay.” Willow held up the alarm. “I have this. If I need him, he’ll come. He promised.”
Drake would keep his promise if he could. He would do just about anything if he thought a child was in danger. Or even Natalie. But now that they were safe, she didn’t know where she stood with him. They needed to talk once the children were settled.
She left the door open a crack and rested her forehead on the nearby wall. The children were all tucked in, peaceful now, but the morning would bring such hardship for them. She could feel the pain as if it were her own. It had pierced her tender emotions so often as a child, it wasn’t hard to imagine. She didn’t want to think about it, but she had to face facts. These precious children were going to be hurt. Big time.
Tears sprang to her eyes and rolled down her cheeks and onto her hallway floor. Her job inflicted havoc on her emotions. Always had. But to be effective, she couldn’t dwell on the heartbreaking aspects. She had to look at the wins. Linger on the times where she helped children and their families. Where she made a difference. Not look at a child who was an emotional wreck, wondering what her future held.
Because of that fear? That fear Willow was facing—that Natalie understood all too well. It was hard to obliterate. For years she’d clung to the belief that finding Gina’s killer would erase some of the pain. But it didn’t. It just left a big gaping hole that needed to be filled. Right there next to the giant-sized hole she’d allowed Drake to put in her heart.
Her fault. He never claimed to be looking for anything, and he certainly wouldn’t enter into a relationship with someone as staid and boring as her. Despite all of that, she’d fallen for him. For his confidence. His compassion. His strength, kindness, and humor. Even the way he called out and questioned things that he didn’t agree with. He was an amazing mix of all of that, and a man with impeccable manners taught by parents any child would kill to have. He would be a great husband and father. If he decided he wanted to be one. A big, huge if.
But what Drake wanted or didn’t want didn’t matter. Natalie didn’t matter. She’d get over Drake. Helping the children was the only thing of importance right now. If she chose not to take them in, she would have to locate a great family. Sure, they would be scarred by their father’s actions no matter what, but she prayed that they would eventually be okay.
She lifted her head, and a bone aching fatigue settled in. She started down the hallway toward her kitchen to set the coffee to brew on a timer for the morning, and the doorbell rang.
Fear lodged in her throat, and her heart clipped into gear.
No, you’re fine. Kirk’s behind bars. And if he somehow escaped, Drake would be here to protect us.
Could it be Drake come to tell her that he wanted to pursue a relationship with her?
She hurried to the door and looked out the peephole.
What in the world?
She quickly unlocked the door and opened it wide as footsteps sounded in the hall by the bedroom.
“Mommy,” Willow’s voice came from behind. “Is that really you?”
Drake sat on his couch in front of a Mariner’s baseball game, a discarded dinner plate sitting on the table, and looked at the clock. He should hit the hay. It was early, but he was bone-weary. Problem was, his brain wouldn’t shut down. He kept thinking about Tracey Gentry. They’d hoped to find her in the house. Her unique scent had filled the space, but Gentry could have a mistress who he’d also given the same perfume to.
As he’d followed Londyn around the house, he’d kept his eyes out for blood or any hint that Tracey or a girlfriend had lost her life. Could be the reason Gentry was so high. He’d killed her and couldn’t face it, as it was so different from killing the other women. But there’d been no blood or sign of a struggle.
His phone rang. Seeing Sierra’s name, he swiped to answer. “Hey, sis.”
“You still with Natalie?” she asked.
“Just dropped her and the kids off at her townhouse.”
“Is she going to take the kids in?”
“She’s thinking about it.”
“That must be a deal breaker for you.”
“What?” he asked as he was honestly confused about where she was going with this conversation.
“You wouldn’t get involved with a woman who had kids. That’s just not you.”
“A guy can change, right?”
“Sure. And I figure someday you’ll want kids of your own. But I can’t see you in the insta-dad role.”
“Yeah, me either.” He sighed. “You calling just to bring me down more.”
“Sorry. No. I wanted to tell you the DNA is in from Tracey Gentry’s blouse.”
“Tracey’s blood? Or even Gentry’s?”
“Actually, no. And I can’t tell you who it belongs to. I’ve told you more than I should already.”
He punched a fist into his pillow. “Come on, Sierra. This might be important to these kids to know what happened to their mother.”
“Sorry.” Her sincerity rang through the word. “Detective Archibald is still officer of record for Tracey’s missing persons investigation. Call him. Maybe he’ll give you what you need.”
Drake fisted his hands. “If you weren’t so pregnant, I might come down and yell at you.”
She sighed. “You know I’m only thinking of our lab, right? If it was up to me, I’d be glad to tell you.”
“I know. And don’t feel bad. I’m just a grouch to begin with.”
“You hungry?”
“Nah,” he said looking at the plate and noticing the lingering smell of fried chicken. “I brought back Mom’s fried chicken and potato salad from the beach.”
“And you didn’t share? Now look at who’s being heartless.” She laughed.
“Stop by. There’s plenty for you and Reed.”
“Don’t think I won’t. Gonna head out in thirty minutes or so.”
“I’ll expect you then.” He ended the call and was cheered by the thought of a visit from his sister, even if it was for only long enough to pick up the food. He could give her a hug and think about becoming an uncle. Take his mind off other things. Other people. Natalie.
But not yet. He dialed the PPB detective division and asked for Archibald. Thankfully the guy was working the night shift and Drake waited for him to come on the line.
“Archibald,” he answered, his voice booming.
“Drake Byrd of Nighthawk Security.”
“Ah yes, the new agency embraced by celebrities.” His sarcasm was rife in his tone.
Okay, so this was going to be a bigger challenge than Drake had first thought.
“What do you want?” the detective asked.
Drake explained their involvement in capturing Gentry and how they’d been trying to find Tracey. “I was hoping you could share the DNA results that my sister just gave you for Tracey’s blouse.”
“Like I’m going to tell a civilian that.”
“Way I figure it, we work together, find the woman, and you can take all the glory. You’re retiring soon, and what if this info was just the thing to nail Gentry’s coffin too? You’d go down as the one who put him away. Would be a huge win for you. You’d be a legend in the office.”
“I could just tell Detective Steele.” His deadpan response didn’t give Drake a lot of hope. “Same result.”
Drake needed to do some fast talking. “Would it be or would she try to take credit for the task force?”
“She’s not like that.”
“You don’t know how anyone is until a high profile situation like this presents itself.” He felt bad the minute the remark came out. Londyn wasn’t that kind of detective, but he had to use whatever he could to help Willow find closure.
“After all of your years on the force, you have to know that,” Drake added for good measure.
“Ha!” Archibald spit through the phone. “You’re right about that.”
Good. The guy was coming around. Drake just had to go in for the kill. “I can be sure the media knows all about your role when they interview you.”
“Might not interview me.”
Ah, yes. He was biting. “I have several contacts I can call who’ll be glad to talk to you. Once one media outlet picks it up, the others are bound to follow.”
He hemmed and hawed for a moment before he cleared his throat. “We have a deal, but don’t you dare renege on me or I’ll make you wish you hadn’t.”
“You have my word.”
“Fine. The blood belonged to a Laura Zimmer.”
“What?” Drake tried to process the news, but his brain couldn’t even comprehend it. “Are you sure? Laura Zimmer?”
“Why?”
If this guy didn’t recognize this name, he must really be phoning it in, as Erik had said. “That’s The Clipper’s last victim.”
“Oh, yeah! Our deal is off. Keep this to yourself. I’ll be forwarding this report on to that pushy FBI agent who took the blouse.”
Drake couldn’t stop Archibald from taking action, so he ended the call and phoned Natalie. He had to tell her that Tracey Gentry might’ve been at Laura’s murder. Maybe she’d suspected Kirk of having an affair and followed him. Then she’d seen him kill Laura and had taken off. If she was still alive, it would explain why she’d run from Kirk and gone to ground.
Or maybe—and unthinkable to Drake—the woman was helping her husband murder other innocent women or even more shocking, she was the killer.