Beau leaned back in the computer chair, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he considered what he’d just uncovered. His first solid lead.
He’d wanted to watch Jack sit on Santa’s lap, but Paige needed to get up early and Riley had offered to stay with him, giving Beau the evil eye as he’d done so.
Aunt Trudy had turned in early, leaving the house too quiet. He couldn’t stop thinking about his conversation with Kate in the chapel, and he suddenly remembered she’d been on the computer the night before. Maybe she hadn’t been looking for new recipes after all.
His suspicion was confirmed. The Internet history turned up new and surprising developments. Disturbing developments.
He reached for his phone and dialed his cousin, hoping it wasn’t too late to call.
Abby picked up on the third ring. “Guess who had a lobster dinner tonight?”
He gave a little smile. “Not you.”
“Well, yes, that’s true. But Ryan was very grateful.”
He heard his friend say something in the background, then Abby giggled. “Ryan says hi.”
“Tell him hey.”
“Stop it . . .” There was muffled laughter. “Ryan!”
Beau could well imagine what was going on between the lovebirds. He winced. “Am I interrupting?”
“No, no.” There was laughter in her voice, then a static sound as she shuffled the phone. The sound of a door closing.
“Okay, I can talk now. Sorry it’s taking me so long to get your info. I’m coming up with a lot of Kate Bennets, but nothing in—”
“That’s not her name. That’s why I called. I asked her directly today, and she didn’t answer. Then I just got on the computer. She’s trying to buy a fake ID.”
“Your gut was right then.”
“She also looked up an article about some alleged criminal with ties to the prescription drug market. Apparently his case has gone to trial.”
“What’s his name?”
“Lucca Fattore. But I’m going to have Sheriff Colton look into that. He has connections. I couldn’t find much online.”
He remembered the way Kate tensed up every time he suggested outside help and vowed to make sure Colton kept it on the down low.
“Any chance you found her real name?”
“Nope. Just that she was trying to figure out how to get false documents.”
“Maybe you can finesse some info from her kid? Did I just say that?” He heard the wince in her voice.
“Believe me, it already crossed my mind. But Jack is mute, or at least he has been for a while. Like I said, the two of them have been through hell and back.”
“Sounds like it. Well, if there’s anything else I can do, say the word.”
“Will do.”
Abby put Ryan on the phone, and the two of them caught up before Beau rang off a few minutes later.
His eyes flashed back to the screen. Back to the photo of a man who was somehow connected to Kate. He had cold eyes and deep marionette lines that marched down to his flattened lips. He wasn’t a man Beau would want to meet in a dark alley—not unarmed.
He looked to be in his sixties—too old to be a love interest—with weathered olive skin and brown eyes. Her father? Grandfather? He supposed he could see a resemblance to Jack, and Kate also had brown eyes. Perhaps they were related. How else would she have ever gotten connected with a man like Lucca Fattore?
The next afternoon found Eden and Micah alone at the house, playing Jenga at the kitchen table. She’d gone to church with the Callahans. It had been wonderful to worship with fellow believers again.
Pastor Daniels had preached on the husband’s role in marriage. Eden had cringed when she saw the sermon title in the bulletin. But Pastor Daniels had different ideas from Antonio’s. The Bible said the husband was supposed to love his wife as Christ loved the church—that he was supposed to be willing to die for her. The pastor went into great detail about that.
Antonio had never mentioned that scripture, and he’d sure never demonstrated it. The sermon gave her a lot of food for thought.
The chapel was smaller and friendlier than her former church, which made it harder to maintain a distance from people. But she had to. It would do no good to get close to anyone and could cause plenty of harm if the wrong words slipped.
Especially to the Callahans. Beau’s image came to mind, her heart going soft as she remembered his tender care with Micah yesterday. She had to be more careful. She wasn’t here to build relationships. This was only a stopping point. A resting place before they continued on the last leg of their journey to Loon Lake. Sure, they could be just as safe in Summer Harbor with new identities. But she longed for the place she’d yearned to escape to as a child. She longed for true freedom.
The notion seemed almost too good to be true.
The family had invited them to the Roadhouse for the Patriots game, but after hearing Micah’s request to Santa, Eden knew she needed to talk to her son. She’d also wanted to call her dad while he was still at church, which she’d done as soon as Beau’s truck had pulled away.
The block tower wobbled as Micah drew one from the bottom.
“Uh-oh . . .,” she said.
The tower stilled, and he smiled up at her in victory.
“You’re a lucky boy.” She reached for a loose block. “Did you have fun yesterday at the festival?”
He nodded, watching her pull the block.
He hadn’t said anything since he’d sat on Santa’s lap. Eden wished she had a psychology degree. She wasn’t sure whether to ignore yesterday’s milestone or make a big deal of it. But instinct told her not to rush him.
“I did too. I liked the Needhams.” Eden had been skeptical when Beau had told her the traditional Maine sweet contained potatoes. But it tasted much like a Mounds bar.
Micah’s eyes narrowed on the block he was pulling. His tongue peeked out as he focused.
“Good job,” she said when he’d successfully removed the block. “You’re good at this game.”
His eyes swung to hers, a glint of amusement there.
“Yes, I know you’re still winning our secret game too.” She’d failed to respond when someone had called her name at church this morning. “But we were tied until this morning.”
He’d done remarkably well with switching identities. The game helped, but he was starting to talk now. What would happen if he let something slip to the wrong person? She’d need to talk to him about that, but first things first.
“Jack . . . I know you miss home. Your friends and the house and your own bed. But you know we can’t go back there . . . right?”
His eyes met hers, sobering. She hated that she’d dimmed the light flickering there, but neither could she let him live in a fantasy that would only end in disappointment.
“I’m so sorry you’re sad about that. I want more than anything for things to be different.” She set her hand on his. “But when Daddy died, it changed everything. I know you don’t understand exactly what’s going on, but we had to leave to stay safe. And it’s not safe to go back home.”
His eyes glossed over, fat tears gathering on his thick, dark lashes. “Oh, baby, come here.” She scooped him up and held him on her lap. “We’re going to be okay. We’ll make a new home. It’ll be different, but we’ll be safe and happy again, and you’ll make new friends.”
He pushed his nose into the cradle of her neck and shoulder. “Daddy.” His vocal cords rasped with disuse.
She hugged him tighter, her chest tightening at the word. The murder of his father must seem like a horrible nightmare. She swallowed against the knot lodged in her throat.
“I know you miss him. I’m sorry you’re hurting, kiddo. It’s not fair. But I’m going to make it better. I promise. It’ll just take a little time. Okay?”
He didn’t respond, vocally or otherwise.
“In the meantime, we’ll just try and enjoy our time here. You like the ocean, right? And the Callahans are nice. Miss Trudy’s a little gruff, but I think she has a soft spot for you. We’ve gotten to do some pretty cool things while we’ve been here. We’ve even made some friends.”
“Beau.”
She smiled against the top of his head. “Yes, Beau is our friend.”
She wondered if they were both becoming too attached to the people of Summer Harbor and if leaving was only going to bring them more pain.