Teagan picked up a sleeping Anora and placed her on one of the twin beds in the spare bedroom that she thought of as theirs. She quickly stripped the little girl out of her shorts and top and slid the nightie over her head.
“Come on, buddy, let’s get those teeth brushed.” Logan was so good with Brann, Teagan thought as she covered Anora with the pink polka dot sheets and princess comforter. She loved the nights her godchildren spent with her.
“I love you, Anora. Sweet dreams,” The child was already asleep as Teagan bent and kissed her soft forehead.
She didn’t bother to hide her smile as she watched Logan tuck Brann into bed. “Night, buddy.”
“Good night, Uncle Logan,” a sleepy Brann mumbled. “Love you.”
Logan’s entire body froze for several heartbeats before he raked his fingers through the boy’s long bangs. “Sleep well.” He’d spoken the words just above a whisper.
Teagan stepped over to Brann’s bed and leaned in, kissing him on the forehead. “I love you, too.” Halfway across the room she realized Logan was still standing there staring at the young boy, already breathing evenly in his sleep.
She wrapped her fingers around Logan’s huge bicep, as much as she could. This man must work out every single day. He was in such good shape. She, on the other hand, hadn’t bothered with regular physical fitness since she left the Navy.
His eyes sliced to her but immediately softened before he laid his big hand over hers. When he started to speak, she shook her head and tilted it toward the door. She tugged him out of the children’s room and down the hall.
“I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.” Teagan said as she released his arm and turned into the kitchen. “I’m having red wine. Beer is in the fridge if you want one.”
He’d already opened the door and was snagging a bottle. “Who knew kids were so exhausting?”
She snickered. “Me. Parents. Grandparents who take the kids for a day.” She caught the fatigue in his eyes and knew it wasn’t physical. “Today has been exceptionally hard.”
“No shit,” he said as he sat on one end of the couch.
She took the other end and curled her legs under her. “For Christ sake, don’t keep me waiting,” she demanded.
He took a long swig of beer. “Be glad you didn’t go. I thank Christ that Matt called us. I wouldn’t want the children anywhere near there. The place was crawling with cops and the detective in charge was a snot-nosed, fucking little prick.”
She gave him a sarcastic grin. “Were we not able to make friends and play nice?”
“I was in no mood to put up with his little-dick syndrome.” Logan took another sip. “He came charging out of the house with the social services lady before I even got to their walkway. At least she was nice. After a while.” He looked up at Teagan and held her gaze. “Melissa Cook will be here tomorrow morning. She’ll tell the children. She has training dealing with kids in this kind of situation.”
Teagan closed her eyes and sent a prayer to God and all the angels in heaven, thanking them for relieving her of that burden. Heaven’s newest angel popped into her head. Marsha. Fighting back the tears, she decided to take comfort in knowing that her friend was sending what she needed to take care of her children. She let out a long sigh. “Thank you for asking her to do that.”
“She volunteered. She’ll be checking us out at the same time.” After a second, he amended, “Mostly you. She said they normally prefer the children to go to a family member, but once I told her about Ashley, she seemed to be okay with you taking care of them, at least for tonight.”
“They don’t have anyone else,” Teagan pointed out. “And like I told you before, those two little kids are not going into the system.” She would do everything within her power to keep them with her.
“What do you know about Gabriel’s family?” His question didn’t surprise her as much as her answer did.
“I don’t know much about Gabe at all,” she admitted. “I don’t even know where he’s from.”
“Nobody seems to know.” Logan took another sip. “Matthew didn’t know about Gabe’s past, either. He offered to try to use the resources at the CIA to see what he could find, but he didn’t sound hopeful.”
“Do you think social services will try to take them away from us, tomorrow?” She really needed to know what to expect so she could prepare to counter anything they said.
Deep furrows appeared between Logan’s eyebrows. “Teagan, I think what you really mean is; will Ms. Cook try to take the children away from you. You’re the one who has been part of their lives. I’m just another fun uncle to Brann. Whenever I’m in town, I’ll stop by to see him. I’ll take him to a baseball game, go to the batting cage, or sometimes just take him out for burgers and a movie. I told you before, I really don’t have a relationship with Anora.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and rolled the beer bottle between his palms. “I’m supposed to be back at Camp Lejeune within three days. I wish I could help, but I don’t know how.”
The severity of the situation hit her.
She was in this…alone.
Damn. I am such an idiot.
Logan was active duty. He had to go wherever Uncle Sam sent him and do whatever he was ordered. He didn’t have time for a seven-year-old boy and a four-year-old girl. He lived three-hundred fifty miles away. If she needed him, it would take him at least six hours to drive.
Worse, he didn’t seem to want to help.
Children were such a huge responsibility. Parenting wasn’t a job she could leave at the end of the day. It was twenty-four seven. And kids weren’t easy. They were little people. Teagan knew from experience that both children got tired and cranky. They could say things they really didn’t mean, but the words still hurt. There were so many lessons they had to learn about life that parents taught every day.
For the first time, she wondered if she could handle it. In the past, she’d taken care of Anora and Brann for a day, here and there. Sometimes they would stay overnight. Once, she’d even had them all weekend. She was so exhausted by Monday, she called in sick and slept the entire day. She knew Marsha didn’t do that. Her friend must have secretly been superwoman to work a full-time job, take care of two children alone, and maintain her sanity.
Teagan didn’t think she could do it. Before she started into her own personal pity party, Logan’s voice broke the silence of the room.
“On the desk computer was what could be considered a suicide note.” He held up his hand before she could protest. “Matt had his computer guru already on it before the local PD arrived. It’s possible that someone, not in the room, had typed the note. Since the computer was technically Gabe’s, Matthew told the locals that it was CIA property and may contain classified information, so they were not allowed to even touch the keyboard. He was going to take everything back to Langley and have his lab test for fingerprints and outsiders using the mainframe remotely.”
“So, Matt believes that she was…” Teagan’s throat seized. She couldn’t say the word. Murdered. “Why the hell would anyone want to hurt Marsha?”
“That’s a two-million-dollar question.” Logan downed the last of his beer and got up, heading toward the kitchen.
“Why two million?” Teagan took the first sip of her wine hoping to soothe the muscles in her throat.
“In the safe, which was open by the way, was Gabe’s will. Each of his children, Bradley, Brann and Anora, automatically inherited one million dollars to be paid out from a five million life insurance policy.” He took the same seat again but twisted so he faced her. “Even though none of us believed it, Detective Russo, in all his brilliant experience, has declared it a suicide.”
“What the fuck?” Teagan realized her voice was a little too loud and glanced down the hallway toward the bedrooms. “So that’s it? Case closed?”
“As far as the Fairfax Police Department is concerned, she was distraught over her husband’s recent death and couldn’t go on.” He looked away and grimaced as though he was seeing something he didn’t want to look at.
“You said Matthew found her in the office. Had she taken pills and gone in there and lay down on the couch? Why his office? Marsha never went in there except to get her gun.” At the appalled look on Logan’s face, she knew Marsha had been shot. “Oh, no.” She shook her head but couldn’t stop the tears that rolled uncontrolled down her cheeks.
The logical part of her brain knew that Marsha would never commit suicide, and certainly not with a gun. As a former naval officer, her friend knew the power of the small weapon. She was good with guns. She’d kept hers locked in the safe with Gabe’s, on the bottom shelf, underneath all of his.
She’d been killed with a bullet, and not one fired on the battlefield. She and Marsha both had a pilot’s attitude, if they were going to die, they would go out in a blaze of glory, their bird shot out from underneath them by enemy fire.
Not murdered by only God knew who.
Hot tears ran steadily over her cheeks. She already missed her friend. Marsha would never get to see her children grow up. She would never hug Anora goodbye on her first day of real school. She’d never see Brann dressed in a suit with a pretty girl on his arm headed to prom. She’d never hold Anora as her daughter cried after getting her heartbroken the first time. She’d never see her children walk down the aisle and commit their lives to someone they loved.
The back of Teagan’s throat hurt but the pain was nowhere near what she felt in her heart.
“Go ahead and cry it all out.” Logan whispered in her ear.
When had he moved? Teagan didn’t remember Logan taking her into his arms, holding her as she cried. It had felt so right she hadn’t questioned it until he spoke.
“You need to get this out of your system, tonight, so you can be strong for the children in the morning.” He patted her back.
Logan was right. She needed to mourn for her friend right then so she could help the children deal with their grief in the morning. She hated to cry. It made her feel so weak. But Marsha had been her best friend, for years. They were closer than sisters. Marsha was the only person who knew her deepest, darkest secret…and she’d take it to her grave.
Once again, Teagan bore the weight of her secret alone. And she always would. Another wave of self-pity crashed over her, nearly drowning her in her own tears.
Teagan didn’t know how long she’d cried. It could have been minutes, or it might’ve been hours, but she finally pulled herself together. She was shocked to find herself wrapped in strong, masculine arms.
“Are you sure you’re done?” Logan’s warm breath caressed the outer shell of her ear. He held her head against his chest, not allowing her to lift it to look at him. “I’ll hold you all night, if that’s what it takes.”
Teagan couldn’t remember the last time she’d been held all through the night by a man. She knew Logan would do it, though. He was one of the best men she’d ever known.
“Thank you.” She leaned up and laid her lips on his scratchy cheek. She took a deep breath as she sat up. “There’s so much to do. I was beside Marsha during most of the funeral arrangements for Gabriel.” She closed her eyes to hold back the next swell of sorrow.
She whipped her head to catch Logan’s gaze. “Her parents. Someone has to call her parents.”
When she tried to stand, Logan caught her around the waist and pulled her down into his lap. “Whoa. That’s not your job, or your place. You were her friend but not her next of kin. Notifying them is detective dickhead’s job.”
It was as though he had popped the balloon within her. Everything that had held her together, deflated. She wasn’t responsible for any decisions concerning Marsha’s funeral. Her parents could, and would, handle everything. Or so she hoped.
Her mind instantly went to Anora and Brann. They wouldn’t handle the children. Hell, they had never even taken one of their grandchildren for a single night. They certainly wouldn’t want to be strapped with both of them until they reached eighteen.
Teagan couldn’t imagine growing up in that household. Marsha’s father ran their home the same way he did his business; with very little personal compassion and almost no understanding of human frailties and failures.
Marsha, being the typical oldest child, had strived to make him proud. In her early teens, she had heard her father say, during the speech to the stockholders, that if he had a son, he would be so honored for his boy to join the military. Her first week in college, she had joined Navy ROTC. Since the pilot program was one of the toughest to be selected for, that became Marsha’s goal. She and Teagan had been assigned as roommates first day of flight school and had bonded instantly.
The day they pinned on their wings, there had been less than five hundred female pilots in the Navy. Teagan’s mother had been ecstatic and so proud of her. Marsha’s father had told her he was disappointed in her for not graduating the highest in the class. Maybe if she'd done better, she would have been selected to fly jets rather than helicopters. No matter what her friend did, it was never good enough for her father.
The mental picture Teagan had taken as she left the children’s bedroom flashed into her mind. There was no way in hell she was going to let Anora and Brann grow up in that household. Marsha’s father hadn’t softened one iota since Marsha had left for college.
She was it. Anora and Brann had no one else.
Standing, Teagan announced, “I’m keeping the children. When the bitch from social services shows up tomorrow, I’ll just set her straight.”
“Melissa Cook isn’t a bitch. She knows her job, which is to find the best place for the children.” He stood. “You just need to prove to her that living with you is the best thing for Anora and Brann.”
He glanced around the room, his eyes landing on the couch. “This doesn’t pull out into a bed by any chance does it?”
Teagan’s gaze started with his boots and ran slowly up his long muscular legs. He had narrow straight hips and no indication of love handles. Through his tight T-shirt, she could see rows of defined abs before her gaze swept to his broad chest. She mentally measured his wide shoulders then slid a glance over her well-used couch.
It was small, like her apartment. Even when she fell asleep on it, her feet and head touched the arm rests. There was no way in hell Logan would ever fit. “You take the bed. I’ll fit much better on this couch than you will.”
“I’m not going to kick you out of your bed,” he retorted. “I’ve slept on much worse.”
“Don’t argue with me. I’ve had a rough day. You are my guest and I’m not going to allow you to sleep on the couch. Go to your car and grab your bags while I change the sheets on the bed.” She glared up at him. “We just have to make this work for a few hours.”
“I’ll get a hotel room close by, tomorrow,” he promised.