Blind Love (8 page)

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“Who’s out there for you?”

He didn’t respond. Again, silence filled their space.

“You’re so secretive. You’re not an undercover spy for the government or something, are you?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Nothing so sexy.”

She opened the door and let Jack jump out. “Gabe?”

“Yeah?”

“If your top secret life problem ever changes, will you call me?”

He stared at her. Wished he could kiss her one last time, but didn’t. “I will.” Seconds later, she shut the door.

From his truck, he watched them walk to her house. Waited until she was inside before resting his head on the seat and closing his eyes. A cement block sat on his chest as he wished again, for the millionth time in the past two days, his life was different. He considered going in there and telling her the truth. Even played out the different scenarios. None of them ended well.

As he sat there contemplating ways to make her understand, the front door opened. Lauren stepped onto the entry, her hand shielding her eyes from his headlights. With a deep breath, he put the car in reverse and pulled away. She’d never understand.

A few minutes into the drive, his cell went off. He didn’t recognize the number, but answered anyway. By the time he hung up, his heart was racing and he was en route to Texas.

Chapter Thirteen

His Alibi

A pang of guilt shot through Ben as he exited the interstate. This was his weekend with Chloe. Had the captain’s call been about anyone else, he wouldn’t have left his baby girl with his parents and made the one-hour commute into town. But this wasn’t anyone else.

When he put in his request yesterday to stop patrolling Lauren’s neighborhood, the man asked him why. He had no choice but to tell his boss about his fucked-up past, his ex and where she lived.

Fortunately, their conversation was still fresh on the captain’s mind when the Harris County PD contacted him asking for help on a missing persons’ case. Since Lauren’s name was dragged into the mess, he called Ben. Now, a couple hours later, Ben was tagging along on the investigation with direct orders: “Keep your mouth shut and let the detectives do their job.”

Questions ran through his head. What
was
going on between the neighbor and her? From the way the man followed her around the jogging trail the other day, one thing was for sure, Gabriel Briggs was clearly interested in her. But was it mutual? He had a sickening suspicion it might be. Which meant the dumbass conveniently
forgot
to share some important details about his life to her. If he was in any way involved with the missing woman down in Houston, he was a dangerous man.

Ben gripped the steering wheel and clenched his jaw. He would do whatever it took to protect her from the piece of shit.

Traffic made him later than planned. The clock on the dashboard flashed eight thirty-five by the time he parked behind the blue sedan sitting idle outside her house. He ran his hand through his short brown hair and jogged over to the passenger side of the vehicle.

Case sat with his elbow propped on the open window while his counterpart was behind the wheel. Both were on their cells texting. At six foot six, the young African American detective looked every bit like the former high school football linebacker he once was.

“Hey, Ben,” Case said without looking up.

“Morning. Sorry I kept you two waiting.”

“Not a problem.” The detective’s fingers flew across the keyboard.

“Hey, Ben. Question,” Mike said from the driver’s seat.

Ben looked over at who was probably the palest man he’d ever seen. Mike was about average height and had taken advantage of one too many of the free meals given away by local diners during his fifteen years on the force.

“Which is?”

“Why exactly did the captain ask us to let you tag along?”

Ben chewed on the answer a bit before responding. These two were the best detectives on the force, but also famous for rubbing salt into any wound they found. He shrugged and went with the shortest explanation possible. “She’s my ex-wife. He thought it might help if I was here.”

“You’re shitting me.” Case tucked his phone into his shirt pocket. “Mikey, would you have wanted to be there if we were questioning your ex?”

The older detective grinned. “Yup.”

“Really?” Case stared at Mike in disbelief.

“Oh, yeah. Especially if it ended with having her ass thrown into jail. Shit. I’d videotape the whole thing.”

Ben’s eye twitched. He tried to keep his voice calm. “There’s no ill will between us, so don’t give her shit, okay? Ask your questions and leave her alone.” Having heard enough, he stepped away from the car.

Case climbed out. He adjusted his pants, tucked in his dress shirt, and put on his sports coat. “No shit to give. We’re going to visit the lovely Lauren Baxter and confirm an alibi. Having you around as eye candy will make it less likely she’ll attack me with a frying pan.”

Mike snickered and followed them to the edge of the driveway. “Says the man who’s never been married.” He patted his navy jacket and the holster concealed beneath it. “Should I double check my Taser to make sure it’s working?”

Ben stopped in his tracks and raised his brows at the man. “You even consider flashing it at her and I’ll kick your ass.”

Mike laughed while Case shook his head and put his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Relax, man, he’s playing with you. Have I ever told you my camping trip story?”

“Shut up, Case,” Mike mumbled as they started up the driveway.

“No, he needs to hear this. When I was a kid, my dad took me camping. He kept preaching this whole live like the cavemen shit. So when I took a dump, I wiped my ass like the cavemen. Well, turned out the leaves I used were poison ivy. Old Mike here is a lot like the rash I got.”

“What the fuck are you saying?” Mike asked while he scanned the property.

This was what made them such a great team. Case could talk a man into donating his balls while Mike could tell by looking at him when and where the man took his last leak.

“No, I’m serious,” Case continued. “He’s annoying and a pain in the ass but if you ignore him, the pain will go away a lot faster.”

By the time they were halfway up the drive, all but Ben were snickering. Even if he thought they were funny, the idea of being around Lauren made it hard to breathe, much less laugh.

Jack began his restless yodeling from inside the residence before they even rang the bell. He tried to ignore the fire building in his stomach.

“Of course she’s got a fucking dog,” Mike hissed.

“The woman’s blind, what the hell did you think she’d have? A parrot?” Case shot back.

A metal chain slid. The deadbolt turned. When the door opened, Lauren appeared in jeans and a yellow tee. His throat tightened as he took her in. Her brown hair hung loose, the way he liked it. She didn’t have a drop of makeup on her skin, and she didn’t need any. As he tried to get his brain to work, Case did what he did best.

“Lauren Baxter?”

“Yes?”

“I’m Detective Casey Johnson. This is my partner, Detective Michael Hopkins, and I’m sure you remember Officer Benjamin Dawson. I’m sorry to bother you this early in the morning, but we’re with the Denver PD and we’re here on behalf of the Harris County Police Department.”

She leaned her head against the partially open door. Her deep green eyes ringed with blue scanned them, stopping at Ben. A strand of her brown hair fell across her cheek. His fingers twitched to tuck it behind her ear. Instead, he shoved his hand in his pocket and grabbed the roll of antacids.

What if she didn’t let him in?

The burning embers in his gut had turned into a raging forest fire. He popped a chalky tablet into his mouth before his insides turned to ash.

“Harris County?” she asked.

“It’s in Houston, ma’am.”

“Oh, is something wrong?”

“I’m afraid so. We need to talk to you about a missing person.”

Lauren’s eyes widened. She stepped back, opening the door further.

Jack pushed past her and jumped on Ben. In a matter of seconds, the dog had licked clean every inch of his face. He ignored the detectives’ chuckles and rubbed the dog’s neck.

“Jack’s happy to see you,” she said.

Are you?
“Morning, Lauren. The detectives let me tag along. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s fine. Come in.”

Jack stayed by his side as they entered. Like the detectives in front of him, Ben looked around while they made their way to the living room. Unlike them, he wasn’t assessing for danger. His thought was a bit more pathetic. Would this have been their home if he hadn’t screwed things up?

“Can I get you some coffee?”

Ben kept his mouth shut and let Case talk. “Yes, please.”

While he and the younger detective followed her into the kitchen, Mike stayed behind in the living room to answer his cell. Jack sat in the corner of the room watching all of them.

After she poured water into the machine to brew, she focused on Case. “Who’s missing?”

“Her name’s Autumn Briggs. She disappeared two days ago on her way home from work.”

“It doesn’t ring a bell. What’s my connection to her?” She popped a pod of coffee grinds into the top and grabbed three mugs from the cabinet.

“You know her husband, Gabriel Briggs.”

Her face paled. Ben managed to catch the cup Lauren dropped before it hit the tile.

“Her what?” she asked while Case grabbed the other two from her hand and shot a glance at Ben.

They were on the same page. The asshole hadn’t told her he was married.

“Gabriel Briggs is Autumn’s husband.”

She didn’t respond. Instead, she leaned against the island and hugged her waist.

“He listed you as his alibi for the evening of Thursday May fourth, when she went missing. Was he with you?”

Her face flushed. Before she could answer, Mike entered the kitchen. “Sorry about that. I got off the phone with the Harris County PD. They found Autumn Briggs’s body an hour ago in a creek near her house.”

“Oh my God,” Lauren whispered, gripping the counter for support.

Ben grabbed her elbow. “Why don’t we have a seat?” he asked and guided her to the breakfast table. He wanted to put his arm around her and pull her close. Instead, he sat beside her while Case sat across and Mike took over pouring the coffee.

“Was Gabriel Briggs with you Thursday night?”

“Yes.”

Jack rested his head in her lap and she rubbed him as she answered.

“From approximately when to when?”

“I went for my jog around five p.m. and he showed up at the trail. We ran together, had dinner, and…” She fidgeted in her seat and her cheeks colored.

“And?”

“He stayed over until the morning.”

Ben’s neck muscles tightened as anger crawled up his throat.

Son of a fucking bitch.

“Was he with you the entire time?”

“For the most part. He was gone for fifteen minutes to pick up dinner and again later for about an hour. But he was next door, I heard the water running.”

“Did he say anything to you regarding his wife?”

Her fingers trailed the same path over and over along Jack’s neck as she spoke. It was obvious the movement soothed her more than it did the dog.

“No, he didn’t tell me he was married.”

“Well, he is, and when she didn’t show up to pick up
their seven-year-old son
from school, his teachers called the police,” Ben added.

Her eyes slammed shut and she shook her head. “He has a wife and a son?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Case added while he shot Ben a
shut the hell up
glance.

Shutting up was the last thing on his mind. “Until we figure out what happened to his wife, you need to stay away from him.”

“Gabe may be a liar, but he’s not a killer.”

She was by far the most stubborn and naïve woman he’d ever met.

The two detectives rose from their seats. “Thank you for your time…”

His ass still glued to his chair, Ben interrupted Case’s closing. “How the hell can you know that?”

Lauren pushed her seat back and stood. “I just do.”

“If he could lie to you about his family and cheat on his wife
with you
, how can you be sure about the rest?”

She tipped her head down at him. “Just because a man has an affair doesn’t make him capable of murder. If it does, you’re as much a suspect.”

His mouth dropped open.
The man had his wife killed. How the hell can she compare what I did to him?

“Officer Dawson, it’s time to go. Now.” All gentleness was gone from Case’s voice.

It didn’t matter what she thought. He had to figure out how to keep her safe. And needed to figure out how the hell to do it without her killing him in the process.

When Mike started to walk over to him, Ben rose from his seat.

Case put his contact information in her hand. “Here’s my card. If you think of anything, please give me a call. And the Harris County Police Department might be in touch if they have further questions.”

“Okay.”

“Ben?” Mike raised his brows at him.

He hesitated. In a matter of minutes, he managed to mess up things with both Lauren and the PD. But he couldn’t leave it like this.

“Can you do me a favor, please?”

“What?”

He ignored the iciness of her tone and continued. “If he shows up, call us.”

“If he shows up here, it means he’s not a suspect. I won’t need your help.”

“Look, you have every right to hate me for what I did but I want to make sure you’re safe. If something happened to you, I…” Unable to finish, his feet stayed rooted while he tried to find the words.

Her shoulders relaxed. “I’ll be okay, Ben. I’ve survived worse.”

“Thank you for your time,” Case said. “We’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your morning.”

Mike grabbed Ben’s arm and walked him out of the house before he could say any more.

Chapter Fourteen

Evan

Gabe sat in a plastic chair as the blonde psychologist talked. He should have been listening to her. Probably even taking notes. But his brain had reached maximum capacity three weeks ago when he’d arrived in Houston. It didn’t help that they were stuck together in a small office she called the observation room. When he stretched his legs, the tips of his boots touched the opposite wall. Besides the two chairs and the big window taking up one of the four walls, the space was empty.

“I’m glad you were able to come in, Gabe. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Evan and some of the challenges you might be facing with him. He’s gone through a very traumatic experience,” Dr. Miles explained.

On the other side of the glass, he watched the boy she discussed. In his Transformers T-shirt and jeans, the little guy kneeled on the playroom floor connecting together wooden train tracks. His straight brown hair hung over his eyes and covered his ears.

Gabe’s face heated with guilt. Giving the kid a haircut hadn’t even been a thought until what—a second ago?

Damn. The whole situation was beyond fucked up.

His mind wandered to Autumn. Petite. Dark haired. Gentle hazel eyes. The kindest woman he’d ever met. None of this had been part of the plan. Their arrangement had been simple. She raised the boy and he sent the money. But when she died, the plan did too. Why would anyone hurt, much less kill, someone like her? Regardless of the reason, if he ever found out who did this, he’d personally put a bullet in their head.

“Gabe?”

Shit.
“I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“I’d rather hear what you were thinking.”

He stared into the playroom.
Murder. Torture.
None of those thoughts seemed safe to discuss with a psychologist. Evan pushed the hair off his eyes with the back of his arm.

“I need to get his hair cut.”

The therapist laughed. “You’ve had a lot of change in the past three weeks. How are you holding up?”

He jutted his chin in the direction of the boy in the playroom. “I’m more worried about him. What do I need to do to help him?”

“Keep doing what you’re doing.”

The train tracks formed a large figure eight and inside the circles, Evan began to create little neighborhoods with building blocks.

Funny, Gabe currently carried blocks of his own. Except his were ten-ton cement ones, bearing down on him since this nightmare started. Everywhere he went people either looked at him as if he were the killer or as if he were the savior. The pressure of proving the first group wrong and the fear of disappointing the second was getting to him.

“How are you dealing with the loss?”

He cracked a smile. “No time to deal. Too many things on my plate at the moment. But when I do have time, I’ll call you.”

When she didn’t respond, he squirmed in his seat.
That was an asshat thing to say.

“Autumn thought a lot about you.”

Gabe looked at the floor and squirmed some more. “So I hear.” Guilt seemed to be the theme of the hour. “Her neighbors said she used to call me her guardian angel. Someone who’ll always swoop in to take care of her and Evan.”

“Sounds like a lot of pressure.”

“I’m good with pressure. Just wish she were around to tell me herself,” he whispered. He didn’t feel like an angel. If he truly was one, he’d have been around when she needed him. Gabe shoved the thought away and ran his fingers through his own overgrown hair. “I’ll take care of him.”

“Is that what you want?”

He rubbed the tight muscles in the back of his neck. “What other choice do I have?”

“There are always choices.”

Gabe shook his head. “None I’m comfortable with. Autumn was in foster care her whole life, so she had no one else. And my mother’s not an option.”

Evan walked to the mirror and flattened his nose against it. Gabe chuckled until he noticed the flash of fear in the boy’s pale blue eyes. He knew the look. Not only had he seen it several times in the past few weeks but remembered it from a lifetime ago in a different city with a different brown-haired boy.

Gabe reached out, put his palm against the glass and tapped. Evan relaxed immediately and went back to the task of building his train community.

“You’re good with him.”

Gabe shrugged. He didn’t feel good with him. Most of the time he felt way over his head.

Dr. Miles continued. “Oftentimes people don’t know what to do with someone with his challenges. But you seem to understand him. Autumn mentioned your brother dealt with anxiety too.”

His mouth went dry. This was not a topic he was interested in exploring. “I get why he needs to make sure I’m still around but the police thing doesn’t make sense. They came by today to fill me in on the investigation. I told him they were coming. He ran and hid. Most kids think of cops as the good guys.” His voice trailed off.

“How was he when you found him?”

“Crawled up in a ball in the back corner of his closet. It took me almost an hour to find him. Even peed in his pants. I ended up sitting in there with him telling him stories before he finally came out. He’s having nightmares every night. They’re getting worse, not better.”

“It seems like it. Has Evan been taking his medication as prescribed?”

Gabe thought of the pill box Autumn had set up. “Every morning after breakfast.”

“It could be because of the murder. He may associate the police with bad things like some people associate hospitals with death. With anxiety we might not always understand the why. Sometimes it’s better to help him figure out
how
to cope with it first before trying to delve into the causes.”

“How do I do that?”

“Remind him when he gets anxious to work on his breathing. Pay attention to him and try to understand what soothes him, like you did when you sat in the closet with him and told him stories.”

Evan pushed the train up and down the tracks. “He’s a great kid. Does his chores even when I tell him he doesn’t have to. Cleans up after himself. But he doesn’t smile or laugh or even talk much. He’s just…”

“Not a kid?”

“Yeah.”

“What he has told me is the house is always surrounded by strangers, the police and media. It’s been very overwhelming. School had been a temporary escape for him until the summer break started. Which could explain why he’s getting worse. My worry is his anxiety might snowball in the next few months. Have you considered taking him away from the situation for a while?”

Being away from the house was the last thing on his radar. Gabe shook his head. “Not an option. I need to be here. They have no suspects and Evan needs to be near his mother.”

She tilted her head and squinted her eyes. “Has Evan gone to the cemetery since the funeral?”

Gabe shook his head again. “He won’t get out of the car.”

She nodded but didn’t respond.

He rubbed the tense muscles in the back of his neck as his face heated. “Even if we did leave, I wouldn’t know where to go.”

“You’re from out of town. Why not take him to your home? The police could call you if they needed something. It would give you a chance to build a relationship with him outside of all this chaos. This might help you both.”

Gabe didn’t respond. Denver wasn’t home. He hadn’t had one in a very long time.

Evan walked back to the glass and crushed his face against it a second time.

Gabe’s chest tightened. The kid’s life had gone to shit for no good reason. If anyone knew what it felt like, it was him. He tapped on the window. “I’ll think about it.”

Cabinets opened and slammed down the hall. Gabe checked the clock on his phone. It was almost three in the morning. What was the kid up to? He turned on his side, trying to find a comfortable sleeping position on the most uncomfortable couch ever made. Currents of pain shot through his back and hips.

Fuck.

He considered giving up on the couch and using Autumn’s bed. The prospect left a sour taste in his mouth. Pulling the blanket up to his chin, he tried to go back to sleep. Instead, his mind drifted.

Her home was small—too small and furnished with the bare minimum. But she never complained about it. In fact, she had done the opposite, raved about how perfect it was for her and Evan. That was Autumn—always grateful. If he had known, he’d have come up with more money and made them buy something nicer, newer, in a better part of town. Guilt crept back into his thoughts. So many things could have been different, if he had only paid attention.

Did she know the person who killed her? She must have, why else would she have pulled over on the side of road?

Evan’s door creaking interrupted Gabe’s thoughts. Little feet padded across the living room floor. Something dragged down the hall. He kept his eyes closed and pretended to sleep. It wasn’t until the washing machine lid slammed shut that he decided he’d better get involved.

Bolts of fire exploded around his hips when he climbed off the sofa. He rubbed the arc of his back and made his way to the kitchen. Enough was enough, as soon as the furniture shops opened, he’d buy a new fucking sofa and burn the current one.

Gabe leaned around the bar into the kitchen. The light in the utility closet was on. Evan kneeled on top of the washer peering into the built in cabinets above the machine. It was easy to figure out what inspired the early morning escapade. Sheets from the boy’s bed were a wrinkled mess on the floor and he wasn’t wearing the same pajamas he went to bed in.

He considered walking away and pretending he hadn’t noticed until the little fingers grabbed hold of the bleach bottle instead of the laundry detergent. Instead, Gabe turned on the kitchen lights. “Morning.” Evan froze with product in hand for a brief second. A pair of blue eyes, as big as hockey pucks, zeroed in on Gabe and looked like he was considering running. Gabe walked over and stood behind, ready to catch him if he fell back.

“Three o’clock in the morning seems like a great time to do laundry, doesn’t it?”

His face flushed, the boy nodded.

“I have some stuff to wash too. How about I help you down from there and get my things?”

“I might break your back.”

Gabe raised his brows. He hadn’t realized he’d been obvious about his aches. “I think I can handle you.”

He took the bleach from Evan and put it on the dryer. With his arms wrapped around the boy’s waist, he planted the tiny feet on the ground. Outside of some shoulder pats and head rubs, this was the first time he’d been able to touch the kid in the three weeks they’d been together.

He picked up the linens from the floor. “Washing sheets?”

Head down, Evan pulled at the skin around his fingernails. “Yes, sir.”

“Any particular reason?”

“They got wet so I thought I’d clean them.”

“Good thinking. My brother used to spill water on his sheets a lot when we were kids.”

Through his overgrown bangs, the kid looked up at Gabe for a second before fixing his gaze back on the invisible spot on the floor.

“Hey, Sprout, did your PJs get wet when you spilled the water?”

He nodded.

“How about you toss them in the pile? Might as well get them cleaned too.”

Another nod.

“Have you ever done the laundry before?”

This time he shook his head.

“Okay, well I’m not a big rule maker but I think this one probably needs to be set.” Gabe picked up the bleach. “See this bottle?”

He looked up at the container in Gabe’s hand.

“It’ll turn these nice red sheets of yours pink. Did you want pink sheets?”

Evan’s eyes widened but he didn’t respond.

“Oh, and it’ll burn your skin too if you spill it. So the rule is never use the bleach. Okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

Gabe bit back the urge to tell him to not call him that. At least he was speaking. “Why don’t you go get your PJs and I’ll get this load started?”

By the time they had all the clothes in the wash and the machine running, neither of them were sleepy. He pulled out a carton of chocolate cookies from the pantry, set it on the table, grabbed two glasses and poured each of them some milk before sitting down. “Have a seat.”

Evan sat across from him, his hands in his lap. His big blue eyes trailed the Oreo Gabe waved around.

“My brother and I used to sneak to the kitchen while everyone else slept and wipe out the cookie jar.”

He dipped it into the milk and took a bite. “Really good cookie by the way. Want one? I hate eating alone.”

“I’ll eat one if it helps you not feel bad.”

Gabe swallowed his sip of milk and the laugh threatening to escape. “Thank you. I appreciate you thinking of me.”

He slid the carton over. After Evan dunked two into his glass and bit into both at once, he continued. “When my brother was little, he used to get nervous around things, a lot like you.”

He tossed the kid a napkin to wipe the chocolate mush accumulating on the corners of his mouth. “We kind of had a method to help him.”

“What did you do?” Evan mumbled through his mouthful of cookie.

“He’d grab my hand. How hard he squeezed would tell me how nervous he was. If it felt like my bones would break I knew I needed to do something ASAP.”

Evan stared at him in wonder. “Did it work?”

“Every time.”

“He was lucky to have a brother like you.”

Gabe’s mouth went dry. The cookie suddenly felt like leather. He took a gulp of milk and pushed it down.

“I don’t know about lucky but I did the best I could.” His eyes lingered on the boy. God willing, this time he wouldn’t fuck things up. “I could do the same hand thing with you. If you’d like?”

Evan stared at his milk. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to. Here, give me your hand.”

He hesitated but finally put his little palm into Gabe’s enormous one.

“Pretend you saw a clown. How hard would you squeeze?”

He gave the hand a small quick press. “Good. That means it’s not too bad. Okay now a police officer.”

Evan bore all his strength down on the hand so hard, his little face turned red. Although it didn’t hurt, Gabe played it up. “Oww.”

The little guy’s mouth dropped and he jerked his hand away.