Chapter Fifteen

“Pick up your feet,” Paula yelled, “You’re ten minutes late.”

Eliot followed Paula up the stairs, heading straight to his apartment. At his request, Quinn moved the party across the hall. Raine deserved a sense of normalcy, if only for one night.

Paula knocked on the door before he could use his key.

“It’s us,” he shouted.

The door opened, and Raine barreled straight for him. Without a word, she handed him a glittery card. He raised her from the floor and hugged her tight. Had they been alone, he would have wept. He set Raine down and opened the card. His throat tightened. His sister had drawn a large stick man with a cape.

He kissed her tiny hand. “Great job.” If only he could be the superhero she needed.

A smile spread across his sister’s cheeks. Eliot glanced at his fellow detectives and Quinn. “We’ll talk later,” he grumbled.

He turned and ruffled Raine’s hair. “You did this all for me?”

“Yup,” she said.

For the next three hours, he hid his emotions. He stuffed a mouthful of food down his throat even though his taste buds were dormant. He smiled and chatted as though his life wasn’t teetering toward destruction.

Halfway through her second chocolate cupcake, Raine’s eyelids fluttered.

“I’ll put her to bed,” Paula whispered to Eliot.

“Thanks, but I’ll tuck her in tonight.”

Paula touched his arm. “We’ll head out. Give you time alone. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

He followed Paula and Malcolm to the door. “Thanks,” he said, kissing Paula’s cheek.

She turned and wiped away a tear. Malcolm, who had one foot in the hallway, marched back and hugged Eliot. “You’ll find her.”

Eliot stiffened. Of all the years he had known Malcolm, they had only hugged once. The embrace, which Eliot had initiated, occurred at Ty’s gravestone as tears bombarded the older man. Now was Malcolm’s turn to offer comfort.

After the Wilsons left, Eliot returned to the others. “Stick around,” he said to Omeir and Safia. “I’ll update you.”

Safia nodded.

“If you need anything, call,” Quinn said. “I’ll be working from home for the next few days.”

He could tell caring for Raine all day had worn Quinn out. He should let her go. “I need a favor,” he stated.

“Sure.”

“Will you read Raine her bedtime story?” His sister was half asleep. She probably didn’t mind forgoing the nightly ritual.

“I’d love to,” Quinn responded.

Eliot carried Raine to her room. His sister’s warm face snuggled into his neck. Reaching her bed, Eliot sat her down. He kissed her forehead and settled into a nearby chair. Raine pointed to the book on her nightstand. It was a short story with no more than eight pages. For the first time, Eliot wished his sister had selected a thicker book. Quinn read the fairy tale. When she turned to the last page, Eliot pulled the book, preventing her from saying they lived happily ever after. There would be no promise of eternal bliss tonight.

“Will you read one more story…in case she isn’t asleep yet?” Eliot whispered to Quinn.

“Sure,” she mouthed.

Hearing Quinn’s soothing voice, Eliot surrendered to her comfort and laid his head on her lap. Life was hard, but just this once, he’d love for it to be fair.

****

Eliot was strong and confident, even cocky at times. They were traits that drew Quinn in but also scared her. But tonight, his strength was replaced with exhaustion and defeat.

Eliot lifted his head from Quinn’s lap. “Can I ask another favor?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Can you hang around for a bit more? I have to talk to Saifa and Omeir, and I might need your advice.”

She gave a tight smile and nodded. For some inexplicable reason, Eliot had made her his confidante. Though she didn’t get the giraffe question right, there were no dire consequences. The same wouldn’t be true for major life decisions.

She sat beside Safia while Eliot briefed them on the day’s events. The meeting with Alisha caused more anxiety than reassurance. Carly, although a criminal, still had parental rights under the law. Even if charged, the courts might consider the bail breach an act of love, a mother eager to reunite with her daughter.

“What about her wanting payment?” Quinn asked. “Even a lenient judge wouldn’t overlook a parent trying to sell their child.”

Eliot’s jaw muscles twitched. “The public defender will argue you misunderstood.”

“What did the social worker advise?” Omeir asked.

“The woman is useless,” Eliot grumbled.

“At least the police are searching for Carly,” Quinn said.

Omeir shook his head.

“Unless she is on a violent offender list,” Eliot said, “the NYPD won’t look for her.”

Safia turned to Quinn. “Exposing a child to drugs brings a social worker to your door, not the police. Studies acknowledge the link between neglect and violence, but unless Carly assaults Raine or kidnaps her, the police won’t actively track her down.”

“But a beat cop may get lucky and come upon her,” Omeir interjected.

“Like that will happen,” Eliot scoffed.

Quinn stared at the detectives around the table. “There must be something we can do?”

“I’m not giving up,” Eliot said. “I’ll keep looking for her.”

Soon after, Omeir and Safia left.

Eliot scrolled through his phone. “Dammit. Doesn’t anyone return messages?”

“There’s not much you can do at this hour,” Quinn said. “Go catch some z’s, and we’ll start again in the morning.”

Eliot glanced up. His face was a sea of deep creases. Stress and fatigue had hammered him. “I can’t sleep.”

“Try resting.”

She stuck around, listening to him vent. After jabbering for twenty minutes, he stretched his body across the sofa. He continued, his voice rising as he complained about how the justice system was slanted toward Carly. Now and then, he would get quiet. She’d ready to leave, and he’d start up again. Had he asked her to stay, she would have, but he didn’t broach the subject. After minutes of silence, Quinn announced her departure.

****

The following morning, Quinn marched to Eliot’s apartment. Safia opened the door, and Eliot waved her in.

“Any news?” she asked Omeir when Eliot left the room to get her coffee.

“Nothing yet, but Carly will turn up,” replied the eternal optimist.

She headed into the kitchen and caught Eliot scowling at the coffee maker. “Stupid machine,” he said, pressing more buttons than necessary.

The appliance let out a sputter. Quinn waited silently as the coffee dripped.

Raine barreled into the kitchen. “Aren’t we having pancakes?”

“How about juice and cereal?” Eliot replied.

His sister frowned. “But you promised pancakes.”

“I’ll make them,” Quinn volunteered.

Eliot handed her a mug of steaming liquid. “Thanks, but I’ve got it covered. After all, I make the best pancakes, don’t I, Raine?”

“I like Quinn’s, but she doesn’t make bears.”

He ruffled his sister’s blonde curls. “I’ll show her how to make them. Go see if Omeir and Safia want breakfast.” She hurried off, leaving Eliot alone with Quinn.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” Quinn asked.

“I’m headed to work. There’s a break in one of my cases, so I don’t have a choice.”

She sipped her coffee. “What about Raine?”

He opened a cabinet, grabbed a bowl, and opened the fridge. “I called Paula. She offered to take Raine to her cousin’s cabin in upstate New York for a few days, but…” he paused, his voice straining. “Sending her away is a bad idea. A few days turn into a few weeks; before you know it, we’re strangers again.” His frown deepened. “What if I lose Raine?”

She touched his arm. “It’s going to be okay.”

He pulled away. “Don’t.”

Her eyes moistened. His harsh tone didn’t bother her, but she was exhausted and frustrated. Eliot shouldn’t have to go through this.

“I’m sorry,” he grumbled. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for Raine and me, but all my life, people told me things would be okay, and they weren’t.”

She understood. Chad said the exact words when her mother died.

“I have a meeting at the warehouse, but I can take Raine.”

“Thanks, but you had her yesterday. I can’t continuously dump my sister on you.”

“I love having her around. She teaches me to view things from a different perspective. She makes me a better artist.”

“Safia and Omeir are on assignment.”

“So?”

“I’m nervous about you and Raine being by yourselves.”

“I could reschedule my meeting.”

“No, don’t change your plans. Give me time to mull it over.”

“Okay.” She cracked an egg into a bowl. “How many pancakes should I make?”

“I doubt Safia will have any, and Omeir will down an entire stack, but I better check.” He exited the kitchen.

A few moments later, Safia appeared. “I’ve already eaten, but Omeir will eat again. You best make a dozen pancakes, more if they’re small.”

Quinn whipped up the batter and mentioned her conversation about Raine to Safia.

“I get his concern. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to Raine…or you. I still can’t believe Carly went to Raine’s old school and obtained Eliot’s address.”

Quinn maneuvered around the female detective and turned on the stove. “Can you hand me the strawberries?”

“I have some phone calls to make,” Safia announced, ignoring Quinn’s request and left.

Eliot returned to the kitchen. He smiled softly at Quinn. She appreciated his effort to stay positive.

He grabbed a spatula and swirled the batter cooking on the skillet. “Pfft. An artist who can’t make bear pancakes.”

“And why do all your bears have mangled ears? Is it safe to eat mutant carnivores?”

“They have mangled ears because they fought bravely in the great pancake war. They’re heroes.” His face grew serious. “All kidding aside, thanks for helping out. Not only with breakfast but with everything.”

She gazed into his troubled eyes. “You’re not alone. I’m here for you.”

Safia barged into the kitchen with Omeir trailing behind.

“Smells great,” Omeir said, beelining to the food and stuffing a cooked pancake into his mouth.

Safia shoved the plate away from Omeir before he could grab another. “I’ve arranged for an off-duty officer to take Raine and Quinn to her meeting. He’ll stay outside the building and keep guard.”

“How’d you manage that?” Omeir mumbled, chewing his food.

“A uniformed officer owed me a favor.”

Omeir forked another pancake. “So, who’s the guy?”

“Perhaps it’s a woman,” Safia quipped back and handed the platter to Quinn.

Omeir fixed his gaze on his female colleague. “Who?”

“If you must know, it’s Ahmed Khoury. He’s with the nineteenth precinct.”

“That’s in Manhattan. How did you meet him?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Safia snapped at Omeir. “He’s one of us,”

Eliot stepped between them. “Good,” he said, addressing Safia. “Tell Officer Khoury I owe him one.”

****

Raine raced through the door, grinning. The tension in Eliot’s shoulders lessened.

“Here,” Quinn said, shoving a huge bubble wrap roll into his hands.

“What’s this?”

“It’s for dancing,” Raine said.

“Sorry,” Quinn mouthed to him. “A fellow artist taught Raine to line dance…on bubble wrap. She gave her this to practice.”

He leaned the roll against the wall. “Glad you’re not a musician. I’d hate to have a drum set.”

“Can I have a snack, Eliot?”

He whipped his head to Raine. “What did you say?”

“Can I have a snack?”

“No, not that. What did you call me?”

“Eliot, ’cause that’s your name.”

He chuckled. “You said it perfectly. Way to go, Raine.”

“Can I have a cookie?”

“Sure. Can you get it yourself?”

She nodded and toddled toward the kitchen.

“Did you hear that?” he asked Quinn.

“I did.”

“Thanks for helping her with her speech. Your work has paid off.”

“Raine’s smart. She’ll be on par with the other kids in no time.”

“Yeah, providing I don’t have to withdraw her from school,” he grumbled. “Hey, how was your meeting?”

“Good. And your day?”

“Nothing has changed if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Raine’s welcome to stay at my place.”

“I can’t ask you to…”

“You’re not. I’m volunteering. Now would be a good time to paint her room.”

“It doesn’t need painting.”

“It’s beige.”

“What’s wrong with beige?”

“Nothing if you’re living in a senior’s complex. Kids love bright colors. And don’t worry. There’s no hurry to get it done.”

“Why are you so concerned with how my place looks?”

“It’s a creative way of keeping Raine safe without lying to her. You said you didn’t want her traveling upstate with Paula. This way, you can visit her anytime. I’ll give you a key, and if you want, you could—”

“Thanks, Sprinkles,” he said, worried she’d invite him to stay. Joining her pajama party was a surefire way of wrecking their friendship. He didn’t have the strength to take things slow and do right by her. His greed and desire would destroy the best relationship he ever had with a woman. “I’ll find out what color she wants.”

As luck would have it, Raine wanted yellow walls. She already had a lemon-colored area rug, but her precious little heart desired a full sun explosion. He tried tricking her with a shade called cookie dough, but she realized this was simply a lighter beige.

Due to his hectic work schedule, Eliot took four days to prep the room. Though busy, he ensured he joined Raine and Quinn for dinner. The best part of the day was putting Raine to bed, though it wasn’t her bed but the fold-out couch in Quinn’s apartment. There was a peacefulness to the children’s bedtime stories—comical heroes, determined heroines, and Quinn’s presence. She became a regular in the land of make-believe. She narrated while he voiced the various characters, transforming his deep masculine voice into a shrill magical elf. Quinn and Raine’s laughter assured him that his life hadn’t all gone to shit.

Now he sat staring at his apartment’s wall. Quinn was right. Beige was dreary. When lonely, his anger toward Carly increased tenfold. Childhood memories filled with poverty, neglect, and filth often numbed him, but now, contempt and shame blanketed him. His mouth grew dry. Eighty-proof liquor taunted him. He grabbed his coat, intent on hitting the nearest dive bar. He touched the doorknob and stopped. Raine deserved better.

Eliot sank to the sofa and dialed Zak Ahmadi. No one understood the struggle of silencing the screaming demons as well as Zak did. Eliot had met the brilliant detective last year. It was Eliot’s first mission with the Counterterrorism Bureau and Zak’s last. The assignment went off the rails when a notorious terrorist stabbed Zak. His friend recovered from the near-fatal physical injuries, but the man’s Post Traumatic Stress Disorder intensified. These days, Zak was on the upswing. He had met a wonderful woman and got engaged. Eliot and Zak were opposite in many ways, but both had an incredible knack for reading people. Zak was the one guy who never bought his bullshit.

Eliot scrolled to Zak’s number and pushed send.

An incoherent groggy female voice answered. The call had woken his buddy’s fiancée.

“Lexie, it’s Scorp.”

“Who?”

“Eliot Traversini,” he replied, unsure if the phone line cut out or if she hated his nickname.

“It’s the middle of the night, Eliot. Is everything okay?”

“I’m sorry. I’ll hang up.”

“No, don’t.”

She must have handed the phone over because Zak came on the line and said, “Give me a moment, Scorp. I’m going downstairs.”

He heard rustling, a dog barking, and Zak hushing the animal. Either the dog quieted, or he let the animal outside. Silence continued. Zak came back. “You okay, Scorp?”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“No, talk to me now. What’s up?”

He told his friend about the situation with his whacked mother and confessed his desire to get totally wrecked.

“I get it, Scorp, but drinking won’t help. If it could, I would have done it long ago.”

“So, what will? I can’t keep reliving these shitty memories. I’m in peak condition, yet I get these god-awful chest pains. My life is spinning out of control, and I can’t do a damn thing about it.” Tears welled in his eyes. “Raine’s a sweet little girl. She can’t go through what I did. She won’t survive.”

“There’s nothing you can do besides what you’ve already done.”

“You’re not helping,” he grumbled.

“You can’t erase what you’ve experienced, and predicting the future is impossible. There’s plenty in life we can’t control.”

“Thanks for the great pep talk,” Eliot snarled.

“I’m not saying give up. Keep looking for Carly and find a way to manage that doesn’t complicate your life even more. And remember, different tactics work for different people.”

“So, what worked for you?”

“A combination of things. You and I have a knack for fixing problems, except when they are our own. I used to isolate myself, but I realized I needed help sometimes. You might too.”

“I’m calling you, aren’t I?”

“Yes, and that’s why I’m on the phone with you and not in bed with my gorgeous fiancée. I know it’s hard to reach out. You did good, but keep doing it. Realizing I couldn’t erase my memories, I created new memories, good ones involving other people. That way, you can escape to a safe place and not spiral into a drunken hellhole.”

“I struggle damn hard focusing on the positives—on my kid sister— but experience has taught me good times don’t last.”

“Is there a bottle in front of you right now?

“I wouldn’t be chatting if I had whiskey.”

“Good. Keep away from the drink. Though you may think it might help, it won’t. Changing old habits is hard, especially ones that have a hold on you, but you don’t have to do it alone. We’re all here for you. I can’t say I know what it’s like to struggle with sobriety, but I know NYPD officers who have. I can talk to them. I’m sure they will be glad to help in whatever way they can. But remember you don’t want an entire support system based on cops or those in recovery. You need people who help you forget about your past, even if it’s for a moment. Each second, each minute, they all add up. Soon those moments become longer and longer until you end up with a good day and then a great week. It takes time, but progress will happen. Allow folks to care about you and start caring about yourself.”

“Yeah. Raine gets me out of my head. She has no idea how terrified I am.”

“Does Quinn?”

“Quinn?” How the hell does Zak know about her?

“Omeir mentioned you spend a lot of time with your pretty new neighbor.”

“She helps me with Raine. She’s a friend. That’s all.” Talking about a woman with anyone was uncomfortable, let alone with another dude.

“I once said the same about Lexie.”

Eliot rolled his eyes. His buddy was on the verge of dishing out relationship advice.

“Strange, isn’t it?” Zak said.

“What is?”

“We’ve faced situations with nerves of steel, but when a woman comes along, we fumble more than a third-string quarterback. It’s ludicrous when you think about it.”

“I’m not dating nor sleeping with Quinn.”

“But you like her.”

“When the hell did you get so personal?” Eliot grumbled.

“If you like her, get your head straight and go for it.”

Yup, and there it was—relationship advice. “You really shouldn’t listen to Omeir. He’s as reliable as a blind lifeguard.”

“According to my other source, your neighbor is attractive, single, and lives across the hallway. What exactly are you waiting for?”

“Isn’t it against Safia’s religion to be gossiping?”

“Work out your issues. It’s not just your sister who deserves a better life. You do too. One last bit of advice, and then I’ll leave you alone.”

“What?” Eliot mumbled.

“Be honest with this Quinn woman. Let her get to know the real you. She’ll find a big heart once she gets over your ugly face.”

Zak’s razzing pushed away the pressure building in his chest. “Hey, thanks for answering the phone, pretty boy. Tell Lexie I’m sorry for waking her.”

“I will…and anytime, Scorp.”

It was good to know Zak meant it.

****

Quinn climbed out of the shower. The hot water had eased her neck tension. She was not only stressed about Raine, but she was worried about Eliot. He was worn down, surviving on adrenalin alone. He did more pacing than a captive tiger.

There was one surefire way of getting him to unwind, but that strategy would further complicate his life. Besides, she wanted to be his girlfriend, not a convenient distraction. Though she secretly wished they were lovers, Eliot needed a friend more than a bed partner. He was full of worries as it was. He repeatedly apologized for his long work hours and for leaving Raine with her. She didn’t mind. She enjoyed hanging out with Raine. His sister had transformed from a nervous and fragile child to this sweet, loving little girl. Although the daughter of a vile woman, Raine had this innate gentleness. With love and time, Raine blossomed. Meanwhile, her brother slipped further away.

Paula and Malcolm were a godsend to Eliot and his sister. Paula with her casseroles and homemade cookies, and Malcolm with his calm demeanor when everyone got cranked up about what the authorities were and weren’t doing. The Wilsons took turns keeping Raine entertained, but Quinn suspected Raine missed her big brother. Surprisingly, Eliot didn’t go to work this morning or hit the streets to locate Carly. Quinn couldn’t tell if he was taking a break or had abandoned hope.

“Why don’t you go wash up before lunch?” Eliot said to his sister upon entering Quinn’s apartment. They had taken Hudson out for a walk.

Raine kicked off her dirty shoes and ran to the bathroom.

“Did you guys have a good time at the park?” Quinn asked.

He ran his hand through his hair. “Alisha called yesterday. She’s worried about Raine missing school. She was behind the other kids before I pulled her. Kindergarten is more than coloring.” He paused. “Not that art isn’t important, but I don’t want her having to repeat a grade later on.”

“You’re not considering sending her back?”

“Hell no. Carly knows what school she’s at, but I’d hate to see Raine struggle. She’s made progress, but she’s still not where she should be, and her interaction with other kids is minimal. Maybe I should check out a private school that has gates and security guards.”

“Sure,” she mumbled. Such an education would soak up half his salary. He’d never afford it. There was, however, a way around this. Forget it. He’d never go for it.

A knock sounded, ending any further discussion.

Eliot glanced at her. “Are you expecting someone?”

“I bet it’s Gabby. I canceled brunch, so she’s likely checking on me. I’ll tell her now’s not a good time.”

“Go hang out with her. You’ve spent enough time dealing with my garbage.”

Before she could respond, Eliot had opened the door. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Quinn hurried over. “Oh, hi, Omeir.”

“Sorry for not calling, but I was in the neighborhood when the news came in.”

“What news?” Quinn asked.

“They found Carly. She’s in lockup, arrested on drug charges.”