Love Inspired Suspense July 2015 #1 (16 page)

The housemother agreed. “All right.” She gestured toward the door, where several small faces with wide eyes peeked out at her before quickly disappearing.

Daniella took special pains to smile without focusing on a particular child as she walked into the comfortable living room. There was a long sofa covered with a wrinkled throw, three small side chairs and one larger scuffed-leather one filled with what looked like hundreds of small stuffed animals.

When Cassie treated her like a valued guest and began introducing the children who were present, Daniella crouched to greet each one personally. A little waif named Rachel was the tiniest and immediately stole her heart.

“And over here is Tommy,” Cassie continued, pointing to the chair with the pile of toys. “Trust me. He's bound to be under there somewhere.”

A reedy, muffled voice insisted, “Uh-uh.”

Smiling broadly and trying not to laugh, Daniella said, “Well, what do you know. Those animals talk!” as she perched on the matching ottoman. “My kitty talks to me sometimes, but I have trouble understanding what he says.”

The pile stirred.

Daniella sat very still. “It goes like this, ‘Mrrrow' or ‘meorrrr,' or sometimes he hisses, but that's only when he's scared.”

“I never get scared,” came from the pile of animals.

“Good for you, Mr. Monkey.” She picked up the closest toy and looked into its shiny black button eyes. “Or was that you, Mr. Bear?”

When the child buried under the pile of animals didn't reply, Cassie offered, “His name is Bearie.”

“Good to know. My name is Daniella, Bearie.”

A head of tousled, sandy-brown hair appeared amid the toys and one blue eye peeked out.

She made her reaction melodramatic, clutching the bear to her and gasping. “Oh, my.” Grinning, she asked, “Are you Tommy?”

She could sense his painful shyness, see it in the way he immediately eased lower in the chair, letting only the top of his head and eyebrows show. No wonder the poor little guy was so reticent, she thought sadly. If he had witnessed the actual shooting at the congressman's estate, as Isaac believed, he'd have trouble trusting any adults. Add to that the family upheaval that had landed him in foster care in the first place, and she could easily see why he'd prefer the company of harmless stuffed toys.

Daniella held up the bear again. “I'd love to meet your friends, Bearie. Will you please introduce me?”

To her delight and surprise, Tommy's faint, childlike voice proceeded to name each stuffed animal while she held it up. She listened intently, hoping he wasn't going to ask her to repeat many of them.

“Wow, you have a really good memory, Bear. Or was that Mr. Monkey? Tell you what. Will one of you ask Tommy if he'd like to play a game with us?”

The boy's head eased out above the pile of fur, felt and stuffing, sending some of the toys sliding.

Daniella caught the closest ones. “Careful. We don't want anybody to get hurt like that poor man did who got shot. You remember seeing him, don't you, Bearie?”

The boy shook his head and averted his gaze. She'd almost lost him by going too fast. One quick glance at Isaac reassured her, so she proceeded, taking pains to guess incorrectly and thereby build up the child's confidence.

“Let me see how well I can remember something. This is Bearie in this hand, right? And Mr. Monkey over here?”

Tommy gave her a look that indicated she was not only wrong, she wasn't too bright. Again he shook his head.

“Okay. My mistake. Now it's your turn.” She took care to present a few animal toys and let the child answer for them before returning to their primary reason for visiting the home.

“Good job. I think this is too easy for all you animals. How about trying something harder?”

The spark of interest in the boy's eyes convinced her she was going to succeed this time.

Daniella lowered her voice and cupped a hand around her mouth so he had to lean closer to hear. “I know how smart you all are. You can tell good guys, like me and Officer Black over there, from bad men, can't you?”

“Uh-huh.” Tommy was barely whispering.

“Good for you. How about the man with the white hair you saw that night when David's blue mitten got lost in the woods?”

Tommy retreated and drew some of the toys to his chest, where he hugged them close. “I don't wanna play.”

“But how are we going to tell you won if you stop playing? Just once more, okay?” Instead of pausing to give the child time to think over his reply, she plunged ahead, holding out a hand toward Isaac and asking for his smartphone. By concentrating on its screen and hiding it from the boy, she was able to distract him again.

“Uh-uh, no peeking. I haven't found the pictures I want yet.”

The first time she held up the phone for him to see, it displayed a picture of Abby.

Tommy pointed at Isaac with one of the tentacles on a green octopus. “His dog. She likes me.”

“I'm sure she does.” Daniella continued to work the phone, hoping she'd be able to access the file Isaac had shown her on their drive over.

“Here we go.” She held up the phone with one of the pictures of a toddler Isaac had told her was named Juan.

“I know him!” In the background, Rachel clapped her hands.

“That's Juan Gomez.” Cassie explained. “He used to live here.”

“Right.” Daniella offered Tommy a high five which he almost accepted.

Carefully paging through the photos, she found one of a smiling younger man standing beside Harland Jeffries. The only other time she'd seen an image of his son, Michael, had been in the postmortem pictures, but she wasn't about to show those to a child. If she showed this one to Tommy, there was a good chance he'd shut down again, but at least they'd know he'd seen Michael, perhaps even on the night he was shot to death.

Before turning the phone toward the boy, she held it up so Isaac could view the photo and got his silent okay.

Tommy was on his knees on the chair seat, eagerly waiting for his next test. Daniella hated to trick him but if his information cleared up the murder and freed the others in the home to return to a normal life, as Isaac hoped, it would be justified. At least she prayed it would.

Slowly pivoting, she prepared for the worst, deciding at the last minute to cover half the photo with her hand, leaving only Michael visible.

Tommy's jaw dropped. His blue eyes widened. Tears began to glisten.

Her heart broke for the frightened child. In order to reach out to him, to comfort him, Daniella had to use the hand that had masked off part of the picture.

When she did, Tommy screamed and pointed. “That's—that's the bad man with the gun!”

He burst from the pile of toys and ran straight to Cassie. She lifted his small, wiry body into her arms in spite of her diminutive size.

Daniella swallowed past the lump in her throat and stood to face Isaac, still displaying the same photo.

“He wasn't pointing to Michael Jeffries,” she said with conviction. “The man he saw holding the gun was the congressman!”

* * *

Before they left the children's home, Isaac took Cassie aside and begged her to let him be the one to break the news to Gavin.

Cassie shook her head. “It will be easier for him to accept coming from me. Besides, we can't be certain Tommy is right about who was holding a gun.”

Isaac gritted his teeth. He didn't want to believe the worst, either, yet couldn't help wondering. If only they could come up with a plausible motive for Michael's murder maybe the clues would start to make more sense.

“Okay, how about agreeing to give me three hours?” Isaac asked Cassie. “I should be able to get my men in place by then and find a judge willing to issue a search warrant for Jeffries's estate and office.”

“Harland Jeffries founded All Our Kids foster home. He hired me. He mentored Gavin when he was an angry teenager about to go wrong. He saved him from a life on the streets and led him to the right side of the law.” She took a shaky breath. “Michael was his only son. How can you even suggest he did such a horrible thing?”

Isaac was trying to come up with a valid rebuttal when Daniella stepped forward and grasped Cassie's hand. Both women were trembling so badly he couldn't tell which was worse.

“My own father killed my mother right in front of my eyes,” Daniella told Cassie, obviously speaking softly to keep from further upsetting the children. “The reason I'm with Isaac now is because my dad got out of prison and came after me. It's not unthinkable that some men might kill if they thought it was necessary for self-preservation. Maybe Harland fired by accident. Maybe he did it on purpose. Only God knows for sure.”

By this time Cassie was weeping. So was Daniella. Isaac yearned to go to her and enfold her in a comforting embrace. Instead, he waited for the drama to play out.

“I'll give you two hours,” Cassie finally said. “After that, I'm calling Gavin and telling him everything that happened here today.”

“Fair enough.” Isaac was satisfied that that was the best he could expect.

A small hand tugged at the leg of Daniella's jeans. She swiped at her cheeks and sniffled, then smiled down, surprised to see who wanted her attention. “What is it, Tommy?”

“A picture. We were swimmin'.”

“I can see that. There's you, and Rachel and...” Her gasp caught Isaac's immediate notice. She was pointing at the framed photo of a group of small children in a wading pool. “Who's this?”

Tommy grew solemn. “That's Juan. I wish he'd come back. He likes my animals.”

Straightening, Daniella showed the picture to Cassie, then to Isaac. “Do you see a faint birthmark on this boy's shoulder or am I imagining things?”

“He had a good-size mark on his back, near the shoulder,” Cassie said. “It was kind of hard to see against his darker skin but it was there, all right.”

“Café au lait,” Daniella murmured. She stared at the other woman. “Was Michael Jeffries his father?”

Cassie shook her head emphatically.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because, Michael wrote an article for the Washington Post promoting adoption, and confessed he couldn't have kids of his own.”

Isaac cupped Daniella's elbow to turn and guide her toward the exit. He didn't want to waste one second of his two-hour window, so he exerted gentle pressure. “We really do have to go. I'll bring you back later if you want and you ladies can have a good cry together.”

They were seated in the SUV before Daniella responded with words. She blotted her damp cheeks first, then said, “We don't choose to cry, Isaac. Our female brains make more of the natural chemicals that cause us to weep than men's brains do.”

“I've seen guys lose it,” he countered.

“Yes, but it usually takes a lot more to bring a man to tears than it does to affect a woman the same way. It's not a weakness, it's the way God made us.”

“And He never makes mistakes, right?”

“Right. Seeing a woman's tears has a tendency to also alter a normal male's brain chemistry and make him more sympathetic.”

“Humph.”

What he wanted to do was counter her claim with a macho comment that would disprove that hypothesis. He could not. Truth to tell, his own emotions had been affected by seeing the women so upset, particularly Daniella. He had brought her to the foster home and allowed her to become involved in his work again. He should have known better.

There was no question that he could control his emotions. After all, he'd already seen plenty of suffering and there was undoubtedly more waiting in his future. What he could not deny, however, was the tugging at his heart and the boulder that sat in the pit of his stomach every time he saw joy leave Daniella's face.

She might never know the entire truth, but he did. There was not a shadow of a doubt.

Her pain was his. It always would be.

* * *

Instead of relying on the earwig, Isaac picked up the mic, identified his unit and told the dispatcher to switch to another channel while Daniella sat in the passenger seat and listened.

“I have a credible witness to the shooting at the Jeffries estate and a probable motive for Rosa Gomez's murder, too, when we get time to look into it,” he reported. “I'll need a search warrant for Harland Jeffries's property and a task force assembled ASAP.” He paused. “One more thing. This is vital. Do your notifications by cell or in person. Do not let Captain McCord find out what we're doing if you can possibly help it.”

The voice on the radio said, “That's against protocol.”

“I know. I left an urgent message for General Meyer, and I'll brief her as soon as she calls me back. If anybody gives you trouble, tell them to check with her and mention my name.”

Daniella could tell he was really torn by having to act behind McCord's back. “Maybe it would be best to tell the captain before Cassie's two hours are up,” she suggested when he was finished on the radio. “He has a right to know everything, even if the suspect is an old friend of his, and that way you can express your conclusions so he'll be more likely to understand.”

“No. I don't want to take a chance on being stopped until we've searched the congressman's house and grounds.”

“What are you hoping to find? Surely he wouldn't have kept clues around if he did shoot his son.”

“Probably not. I suppose the shooter could just as easily have been Erin Eagleton, like most people thought. Tommy didn't say he saw Harland actually pull the trigger.”

“The trick is going to be convincing him to speak up and comment more on that night without putting any notions into his head. Kids can be very impressionable.”

“That's what I figured. By the way, thanks for your help. I never thought of making my interrogation into a game the way you did.”