MASON WAS ANXIOUS to get back to Albina, to get started on finding out everything he could about his brother’s life—and to stay the hell away from Harper until he could keep himself in check. But he hung around The Lemonade Stand for another hour that morning, sitting with Gram in a family visiting room in the main building. The rules he’d insisted on meant he couldn’t take her out, and Harper had asked him to be present for her first interview with Gram. A perfectly reasonable request.
“I haven’t seen my baby girl yet,” Gram was saying, throwing a discard on the pile, on her way to beating him in a second game of gin rummy. The cast on her lower arm didn’t affect her ability to pick and throw cards any.
“She’s in a class this morning.” He’d already told her so. Twice. But he didn’t think she was having any trouble remembering that. Her problem was knowing she couldn’t leave. She’d been bobbing her right foot under the table since they sat down.
Miriam Thomas was used to looking after her home, her family, her community. She wasn’t good at inactivity. Never had been.
“Seems like they could pull her out of class to see her Gram. Especially since it’s my first day here.” There was no petulance in her tone, more like...suggestion. Gram’s way of demanding—and every single one of her men knew to jump at that tone.
Mason drew a card. Threw one on the pile.
Brianna was in a counseling session—to see what she could tell them about her visits with her father—with Harper in attendance. When she was through, Harper was going to take her back to day care and meet him and Miriam at the card tables. Gram’s visit with Brianna was going to have to wait.
The room they were in was a decent size and nicely appointed, with couches and chairs arranged in conversational areas with plenty of lamps for reading. A family living room atmosphere, though, for safety purposes, family members didn’t generally visit the shelter. It took special permission and security clearance for anyone other than staff, residents and police to get inside. At the moment, they had the place to themselves.
Mason’s high-level government clearance allowed him access to the entire facility. He’d asked for Gram to be called to the main building. He wanted her bungalow to be a place none of the Thomas men had ever visited. If they were going to get her to admit that Bruce was mistreating her, they had to break her belief that it was her duty to serve her men.
“Gin.” Miriam laid down her cards. He played what he could. Tallied up the score, then gathered the cards and shuffled.
“I need to get home to Bruce.” Statement. Not question. In navy polyester pants and a matching tunic, with her short hair curled and styled as usual, Miriam could have passed for someone on her way to a business meeting. Even at seventy-five, she could’ve handled herself at one just fine. Her strong will was part of the reason he’d had to bring her to the Stand. She was determined that her place was with his younger brother, whether it was healthy for her or not.
“He needs me.” Probably. At the moment, Mason didn’t give a shit.
“Does he know where I am?”
Again, probably. His younger brother was a damned good cop. Mason might have been expelled from Bruce’s life, but he’d kept track of him, relieved to see that his little brother was doing so well. Had been proud of him, too. But even if Bruce hadn’t done well, Mason would’ve watched out for him. He’d be the big brother until the day he died.
“I haven’t told him.”
“What did you tell him?”
He’d been waiting for the question. And wouldn’t lie to his grandmother. “I told him I got a call from urgent care saying you’d been hurt, and your injuries were most likely caused by another individual. I said I was taking you someplace safe for a few weeks until you healed.”
He hadn’t accused his brother of hurting her. Not yet. But he hadn’t not done so, either.
He was still holding out hope that he was wrong—not that he’d given Harper that impression. He needed her to believe it was possible that Bruce was guilty, so she’d help him find out, one way or the other.
He was holding out hope, but he didn’t think he was wrong. No matter how much he wished differently.
Miriam drew. Rearranged the cards in her hand. Discarded. He waited for her to ask about Bruce’s response and found it telling that she didn’t.
“He’ll find me.”
“He won’t get in.”
Gram looked at him, her green eyes filled with the intelligence he’d known all his life. “He’s a decorated cop with security clearance,” she said clearly, easily. “They won’t be able to deny him access.”
It was his turn to play. He waited for her to look over at him, then held her gaze. “Yes, they will, Gram. You have my word on that.”
She nodded. Didn’t argue. But he knew she wasn’t convinced.
Where the hell was Harper?
“You really think if it’s Bruce against her, she’ll come out on top?”
Her.
“I met with Harper this morning,” he said. He’d been debating whether or not to tell her. To preempt the meeting they were about to have. But he’d decided to let things play out and observe the two women together because he wasn’t truly convinced his grandmother had a problem with Harper. The older woman had adored her. Sung her praises every single time Mason called or stopped by to see Miriam and his father during the year of Bruce and Harper’s marriage. She’d been certain that Harper Davidson would be the perfect cop’s wife, just as Gram herself had been. And Mason and Bruce’s mother, too, until the day she died.
“She thinks you don’t like her, Gram.”
“I don’t.”
They were both drawing cards. Discarding. He had three aces and three kings. All he needed was a fourth to go out on her.
“Why not?”
“She took the easy way out. Bruce makes one mistake and she leaves him. He changed after that. Worked all the time. Volunteered for the most dangerous assignments. Nothing I could do or say would bring him around. You think your grandfather didn’t make a mistake or two? Or your father, for that matter? You and I make mistakes. We don’t turn our backs on each other because of them. We stick together. That’s what family does.”
He’d been raised on this rhetoric. Believed most of it. “What mistake did Bruce make?” If he’d been talking to anyone else, his nonchalance would’ve been persuasive, but Gram saw right through him. He knew it when she paused, hand halfway to the discard pile, and looked over at him.
“He didn’t tell you?”
Mason stopped just short of rolling his eyes. “You think that’s likely?”
He’d spent five years telling himself he didn’t need to know why Harper had left his brother a year into the marriage she’d insisted on going through with. That he didn’t care. And that it was none of his business.
All lies—except the last part.
But now...it felt like his business. So he pushed. “What did he do?” he asked his grandmother.
“He had sex with a perp. Her older brother was a gang leader involved in human trafficking. He recruited local kids to use as drug mules. Bruce had to get close to get enough evidence to make a conviction stick.” Gram had spent more than fifty years living with law enforcement. There wasn’t a lot she didn’t know. Or that shocked her.
Mason’s stomach dropped. He’d suspected. Hoped he’d been wrong. He’d hoped there’d been another reason for the divorce—maybe that they’d decided they didn’t love each other enough. Something ordinary. Non-soul damaging.
“He told her right away, didn’t try to hide it from her. Didn’t lie to her. Or even expect to get away with it.”
Which made him wonder, considering Harper’s reaction the first time his brother had screwed around on her and considering how badly she’d been hurt, why Bruce had run home and confessed. Didn’t seem like something his younger brother would do.
Mason reminded himself that what he was hearing could very well be the version of things Bruce had given Gram. A version of the truth colored by Bruce’s need to look good to everyone, to always be the victim. To be perceived as the one who tried to do right and yet was wronged by others.
“He did what he did for the job, made the arrest because of it. She knew she was marrying an undercover, knew the job entailed some tough calls. And he was honest with her about what happened,” Gram said, then added, “Gin.”
Three aces, three kings and a four counted against him.
* * *
SHE WAS IN a tailspin, walking on familiar paths, smiling at familiar people and feeling as though she’d landed in a world she didn’t know. On the surface, she was the same. But inside, Harper felt she’d changed irrevocably. In the space of two hours.
She didn’t like the change, wasn’t ready to accept any kind of new reality.
“Am I in troubles?” Brianna, her blond curls glinting like gold in the morning sun, wrinkled her nose as she looked up at Harper.
Giving the tiny hand tucked securely within hers a soft rub, Harper smiled down at her daughter. “No!” She put as much cheer and happiness as she could muster into the one word. “You’ve done nothing wrong at all,” she assured the little girl, fully aware, even if others weren’t, how much Brianna grasped from the adults living around her.
“Why did I hafta go to Miss Sara during my reg’lar day?”
Harper smiled down at her. She’d had no time to prepare for the meeting with Miriam and Mason. To avail herself of informational chats with the professionals around her. To gather facts.
“It’s just like she told you, Brie.” She kept her tone light and at the same time reassuring. “Gram’s going to be staying here for a couple of weeks and we wanted you to know.”
Brianna nodded. Just as she’d done in Sara’s office. When the counselor had asked if Brianna had any questions, she’d shaken her head. Harper had been working at The Lemonade Stand since she’d left Bruce, which meant Brianna had grown up there, in day care, from the time she was three months old. How much the little girl knew about the Stand, about the work they did, no one could really tell. Sara had stressed from the very beginning of Harper’s employment that the less the little ones knew, the better. She’d said that kids tended to see what they needed to see, unless someone else pointed out bad to them.
Even many of the younger resident children living with them didn’t know why they were there. They might’ve been aware there was a fight if they’d witnessed it, or abuse if they’d suffered from it, but often they didn’t know.
When Brianna had seemed unconcerned about her Gram being there, other than asking when she’d get to see her, Sara had sent Harper a glance and taken the child’s cue.
The rest of their time together had been spent chatting about Brianna’s visits with her dad. About the places they went, the games they played, what they ate and bedtime rituals when they were together. She got Brianna to ramble on about all kinds of things, watching for any sign of unrest. There’d been absolutely none—to Harper’s total, weak-kneed relief.
“Is Gram mad at Daddy?” Brianna asked now, her voice concerned.
“No! Of course not!” she answered automatically, wondering if this was one of those signs Sara had been looking for. “Do you think she should be?”
“Nooo.”
She’d never, for one second, thought Bruce was a danger to their daughter, to anyone. And yet Mason had managed to make her doubt. But the fact that Lila had believed him, that had thrown her. Lila wasn’t easily fooled.
And for what purpose would Mason have done this? None that she could find.
She stared at the top of her daughter’s head, feeling...lost. Unsure of herself. Not something she usually had to deal with—especially where Brianna was concerned. Motherhood had come naturally to her, maybe because she loved it so much.
“Why did you ask if Gram was mad at Daddy?” She had to check.
Even Brianna’s shrug was reassuring; the little girl wouldn’t be so casual if she was going through a traumatic moment. “Gram takes care of Daddy and she can’t do that here ’cause it’s a far drive in the car.”
“Daddy’s a big boy, Brie. He knows how to cook and do laundry and stuff.”
“But...why did Gram leave him all alone?”
A small piece of the world righted itself. She was concerned about her father. That was all. Just like she worried about leaving Harper alone every time she went to her father’s house.
“She wanted a little vacation. You know, like when we go to Disneyland. For Gram, this place, with the gardens and everything, is like her Disneyland. She can read and walk and do crafts with other ladies and not have to cook and clean. Plus, she wanted to be able to see you every day. With Daddy coming down to Santa Raquel for visits now, Gram doesn’t get to see you as much.”
“He said he could bring her.”
“I know. And I’m sure he will, but he’s on a job and she missed you!”
There was no way Miriam would tell Brianna anything different. According to Lila, the woman was adamantly protecting her grandson. And Harper didn’t doubt Miriam’s love for Brianna or ability to care for her in the slightest. With her hand in Harper’s, Brianna swung their arms and skipped one step. “So can I see her today? When I get done with playtime?”
After-school playtime signaled the end of Brianna’s day at the Stand.
“Maybe before that,” Harper told her. “Maybe, just for today, you could miss playtime and play with Gram instead. Would you like that?”
“Yeah!” Brianna skipped again. “I would love that, Mommy. Can I? Can I, please?”
“I’ll see if it can be arranged,” Harper said, not promising anything until she’d met with Miriam herself. Which, she remembered with a knot in her stomach, she was on her way to do as soon as she dropped off Brianna at her preschool class.
“Yaayyy!” Brianna squealed. And then, looking up at Harper with an innocence that touched all the way to Harper’s soul, said, “You’re the mommy I always wanted. I love you.”
“I love you, too, sweet pea.” Harper’s eyes were uncharacteristically misty as she pulled open the door that led to Brianna’s class.
You’re the baby I always wanted. She used to tell her baby that—in the womb—and later, too, as she’d been starting a new life in a new town with a new job, and a three-month-old baby to provide for. All alone.
You’re the baby I always wanted. She’d told the baby that to remind herself. And to make sure Brianna knew, that even though she was being raised by a single parent, she was wanted more than anything.
You’re the baby I always wanted.
Brianna just hadn’t had the father Harper had wanted for her.