Secret Agent Father (9 page)

Rafe pursed his lips thoughtfully. “If you can shoot from a distance of fifty feet, you can easily play bodyguard for Shelby and Cody once they’re safely tucked inside a hotel. That gives me and Logan some time to dig under some rocks to see what we can uncover.”

Exasperated, he stared at his partner. “That’s it? That’s your plan?”

Rafe scowled. “Do you have a better one?”

Alex closed his eyes and told himself to get a grip. No reason to take out his lousy mood on Rafe. It wasn’t his partner’s fault that the thought of Shelby and Cody being exposed to danger made him sweat. “No,” he said finally. “I don’t have a better one. But if anything happens to Shelby or Cody…” He couldn’t finish the thought.

“You need to have a little faith, my friend,” Rafe said quietly.

“I have faith in you,” Alex protested.

“Not me. Faith in God. You need to reach out to the Lord, putting yourself in His hands.”

His gaze caught on the cross Rafe wore around his neck and knew his partner was serious. Never in a million years would he have imagined having this conversation with Rafe. “Is that what you do?” he finally asked.

“Absolutely.” Rafe leaned forward, his expression earnest. “And you can, too. Shelby would be more than happy to offer you guidance if needed.”

He knew that much was true. And he suddenly felt sick at the possibility Rafe might be developing personal feelings for Shelby. After all, they shared the same beliefs.

“You like Shelby, don’t you?” he asked.

“Of course I like her.” For a minute Rafe looked puzzled and then suddenly he threw his head back and laughed. “Relax. I admire Shelby but I’m not interested in her on a personal level.”

“Good.” He couldn’t deny the overwhelming sense of relief. As much as he knew he didn’t deserve a
woman like Shelby, he found he didn’t want to imagine her with any other man, either.

Rafe’s cell phone rang and he glanced at the screen. “Logan,” he greeted the caller. “What’s going on?”

Alex tensed, knowing Logan Quail wouldn’t have called without a good reason. He watched Rafe expectantly, as his partner’s face turned stone cold.

Shelby chose that moment to return. “Cody’s getting bored.”

“In a minute,” Alex said, waiting for Rafe to finish. When his partner hung up the phone, he asked, “What’s going on?”

Rafe glanced at Shelby and then back at Alex, letting out a heavy sigh. “Someone threw a firebomb at Shelby’s car.”

S
helby let out a shocked gasp. Alex stared at Rafe in horror. “Where was her car parked?” Was her house gone? Her day care center? He braced himself for the worst.

Rafe gave a curt nod as if he’d anticipated the question. “Not directly in front of her day care center, thankfully, but close enough to cause damage.”

“Damage? What kind of damage?” Shelby swayed and Alex jumped up to lead her toward the nearest chair before she collapsed. “The children?” she asked in an agonized tone.

His chest squeezed painfully. Today was Monday, so Shelby’s day care was likely full of kids.

“Logan is on the scene and he’ll keep us updated,” Rafe said, downplaying the topic of potential casualties. “The timing of the firebomb happened when most of the kids were outside in the backyard.”

“But the infants don’t go outside in the winter.” Shelby’s eyes filled with tears. “I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to one of my children. Never.”

Alex gently squeezed her hands trying to offer strength and support. “Shelby, this isn’t your fault. No one will blame you.”

What was going on? Why the sudden act of violence? At this late stage in the game, especially after Trina’s death, it didn’t make sense.

Unless there had been a tracking device on her car. And this was some sort of bizarre warning.

Shelby looked like she was in a daze repeating, “My children, my children,” over and over again.

Helpless, Alex speared Rafe with a hard look. “Do you really think it’s still a good idea for Shelby and Cody to go to the funeral?” he demanded.

“Alex,” Rafe started, but he was quickly interrupted.

“Listen to me. Why would someone toss a firebomb at Shelby’s car, huh? No rational reason other than as a dire warning to stay away. A warning we’d be idiots to ignore. The last place she and Cody should go is back to Green Bay.”

“Maybe the firebomb was meant to destroy the tracking device? Or what if it
was
an effort to keep Shelby and Cody away? Because whoever threw it knew you’d react like this?” Rafe pointed out with infuriating logic. “And if that’s the case, you’d be playing right into their hand by refusing to let them attend the funeral.”

“I don’t care.” His gut clenched with the thought of anything happening to Shelby or Cody. “They’re not going.”

“Yes, we are.” Shelby seemed to snap out of her trance to join the conversation. “Cody needs closure. Somehow, someway we need to find a way to take him.”

He wanted to yank his hair out of his head in frustration. But he already knew from experience that yelling and arguing wasn’t going to work. “Think about it, Shelby,” he pleaded. “Please, think this through.”

“I am trying to think it through,” she said, looking suddenly exhausted. “I know we have to keep him safe, yet I also don’t want Cody to have emotional issues for the rest of his life. Maybe it would be best to take Cody to see a child psychologist before making a final decision. I don’t want him to be in danger. If the psychologist doesn’t feel it’s important for Cody to be there, to say goodbye to his mother, then I won’t take him.”

Rafe’s phone rang again. “Logan? What’s the status?” Rafe listened for a moment, and then his face relaxed. “No injuries,” he repeated aloud for their benefit. “Thanks for letting us know.”

Alex chest expanded with a wave of overwhelming relief.

Shelby closed her eyes and dropped her chin to her chest. “Thank You, Lord,” she whispered.

Alex silently echoed the heartfelt prayer. If Rafe was right, someone had gone to great lengths to scare Shelby away.

Because of Cody?

Alex knew he couldn’t hold off any longer.

“Shelby, it’s time.” At her blank look, he clarified. “I need to talk to Cody. We need to know what he saw.”

Shelby wanted to protest, but she couldn’t deny the truth. Her children at the day care center had been put at risk. Because of her. Because of the bad man Cody had seen.

As much as she didn’t want Cody to relive those awful memories, she didn’t seem to have much of an alternative.

“He’ll be upset,” she said in a low voice. “Remember how he reacted to seeing blood?”

“I know,” Alex agreed softly. “I don’t want to hurt him any more than you do. Let’s think about it for a bit. There must be some way we can uncover his memories without causing too much harm.”

“Art therapy is often used for troubled kids,” Shelby said slowly. “I’m not an expert, but we learned a little about it in college.”

“Worth a try.” Alex turned to Rafe. “Can you find some art supplies?”

“Sure.”

“Could we take Cody outside for a while?” Shelby asked. “He lost interest in the cartoons fairly quickly and I think the fresh air would do him good.”

“I’ll make another sweep of the area before I go to the store,” Rafe offered.

“I’ll go with you,” Alex said. When he stood she caught a glimpse of a handgun tucked into the back waistband of his jeans, mostly hidden behind his denim shirt. “Give us a few minutes before you get Cody’s coat and boots on, all right?”

She nodded, disturbed at the very real evidence of the danger. Was she being stubborn, insisting on going to Trina’s funeral? Maybe. Yet she couldn’t tolerate knowing that this was Cody’s last chance to say goodbye to his mother. She wanted to do what was right for him.

Cody was thrilled with the chance to go outside to play in the snow. She waited for Alex to return before getting Cody dressed in his winter gear.

“Would you like to build a snowman?” she asked, pasting a bright smile on her face.

“Yeah!” Full of energy he dashed outside. She quickened her pace to keep up.

“Do you want to help?” she asked Alex, as he followed more slowly, alertly scanning the area.

“No, I’d rather watch.”

She understood he meant keeping an eye out for anyone suspicious and turned her attention to Cody. The back part of the hotel had a large area of the parking lot no one had bothered to snowplow. Putting aside her worries, she threw herself into making this fun for Cody, showing him how to start the base of the snowman. The snow was wet and heavy, perfect for packing. Cody helped with more enthusiasm than skill.

When she and Cody struggled to get the second snowball placed on top of the first, Alex jumped in to help. She noticed Cody brightened the moment Alex began paying attention to him. He constantly looked to his father for approval.

Their snowman was a bit lopsided, but she didn’t care. And neither did Cody.

“Our snowman needs a hat,” Cody declared.

“Here, Cody, use mine.” She was surprised when Alex stepped in to offer his own. And when Cody couldn’t reach, Alex lifted him up so that Cody could place the hat on the snowman’s head.

Watching father and son interact caused a lump to form in the back of her throat.

When she glanced back at Alex, she caught a hint of longing in his eyes. As if he’d regretted not joining them in building the snowman from the beginning. For a moment she saw a glimpse of what their life could be like, if both of them raised Cody together.

A true family.

The idea caught her off guard. Yet the more she
thought about it, the more she realized it really wasn’t so surprising. She’d grown closer to Alex during these past few days than she’d ever been to any other man. And wouldn’t it be wonderful for Cody to have two parents who loved him?

She told herself to get a grip. Alex didn’t embrace her Christian lifestyle. She’d gotten the impression he might be open to the idea—he’d agreed to have Cody raised with Christian beliefs—but she couldn’t share her life with someone who didn’t share her faith.

She started toward him, but then Rafe returned with the art supplies, and the moment was gone.

“Good job.” She applauded Cody when he found matching rocks for the snowman’s eyes and a pinecone for the nose. She held him up so he could complete the snowman’s face himself.

“Who’s ready for lunch?” Rafe asked, as he hauled several sacks of food and art supplies from the SUV.

“I am!” Cody shouted, squirming out of her grip and running toward Rafe.

“We’ll talk to him after lunch,” Alex said softly.

She nodded, knowing she’d run out of time and excuses.

Watching the way Shelby played with Cody as they built a big, if lopsided, snowman, Alex realized she was a natural when it came to taking care of children.

Owning and operating a day care center was probably part of the reason, but everything Shelby did with Cody revealed the depth of her love for the boy.

She was Cody’s surrogate mother, in every way. He admired everything about Shelby. The way she bravely
faced her past. The way she helped Cody. The way she cared about the people in her life.

He found himself hoping she included him in her sphere of caring. Because his feelings for her were growing into something more intense than mere friendship.

Even though this wasn’t the time or the place for anything more.

As they ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and apples for lunch, he couldn’t get the image of her carefree laughing face out of his mind. For those brief moments outside, she’d seemed happy.

But not any more. The tiny brackets around her mouth told him that she was dreading the moment he began questioning Cody.

He wasn’t feeling too great about it himself.

Typical Shelby, though, she didn’t whine or complain, but got right to work as soon as she’d finished clearing away the lunch mess.

“Cody, look at what Mr. Rafe brought for you.” She spread out the large sheets of paper on the small hotel table and opened up the container of crayons. She spilled them all over the table, so it would be easy to pick out whichever colors he preferred. “Would you like to draw pictures?”

“Yeah!” Cody knelt on one of the chairs, so he could reach the table. “Are you going to draw with me?”

“Of course.” Shelby sat across from Cody, her expression thoughtful. “What should we draw?”

Alex stayed back with Rafe, allowing Shelby to take the lead. Obviously he didn’t have the same experience she had with kids.

“How about a snowman?” Cody asked.

“No, we already made a snowman outside.” Shelby pretended to think. “Maybe we should draw the marina?”

Even Alex could tell Cody had tensed up. “I dunno,” he hedged.

Shelby leaned forward, brushing a hand over Cody’s blond hair. “Cody, do you remember the night you saw the bad man?”

His green eyes widened until they seemed to take up his entire face. “Yes.”

“Would you be able to draw a picture of the bad man for us?” she asked, gently. “Please? It’s very important.”

He stared down at the blank piece of paper in front of him, and Alex knew if Cody refused he wasn’t going to force the issue. They’d simply have to figure out what happened some other way.

“Okay,” he said, picking up the black crayon.

Alex held his breath as Cody began to draw. Shelby worked on her own picture, choosing to draw sailboats on the water, but kept her attention on what Cody was doing.

“What is that, a car?” she asked when Cody put down the black crayon.

He nodded. “I saw the bad man through my window.”

Alex glanced at Shelby in surprise, but she was holding Cody’s gaze. “You were in the backseat, here?” she asked, pointing to the picture.

“Yep. The bad man was yelling at my mom.” For a moment his lower lip trembled and Alex had to stop himself from rushing over to stop Shelby’s art therapy session.

“You’re safe here with us now,” Shelby said softly. “Your other dad and Mr. Rafe are here to keep you safe.”

Cody glanced at Alex and Rafe, as if to reassure himself they were indeed there to keep him safe from harm.

“What did the bad man look like?” Shelby asked, pulling Cody’s attention back to the picture. “Was he taller than your mom or shorter?”

“Tall. Really, really tall.” Cody picked up the brown crayon and began drawing a man. He made a rectangular body, with stubby arms and legs sticking out of it. The figure was tall, much taller than the car.

“That’s a great picture,” Shelby said, admiring his work. “What color hair did the bad man have? Yellow like yours? Or dark like your dad’s?”

Cody scrunched up his face. “I dunno. Mostly bald.” He left the figure hairless and finished putting in the man’s face, eyes, nose and mouth, and the mouth was frowning.

Then he picked up the red crayon and drew a wide red streak down the side of the man’s head.

Alex sucked in a quick breath.

“Why is he bleeding?” Shelby asked in a calm tone.

“Mom hit him with a long skinny thing,” Cody’s voice was so quiet she could barely hear him. “He fell down and then she jumped in the car and drove away.”

Alex closed his eyes, his stomach churning with guilt and regret. Cody should not have been forced to witness such violence. No wonder the poor kid had nightmares.

And it was all his fault. When Trina had offered to give inside information, he should have told her no. Should have encouraged her to stay far away from the shipyard.

Finding the mastermind behind the drug running operation shouldn’t have cost Trina her life.

Shelby tried to keep calm, even though her stomach churned with nausea as she stared down at Cody’s drawing.

“You’re safe here with us,” she reminded him, when he’d stopped working on his picture. “What else is in the picture? What was next to your car?”

Cody scrunched up his face for a moment, then picked up a navy blue crayon. “Big ships,” he said, drawing a large rectangle to one side of the picture.

“Like in the shipyard?” Shelby asked, as she worked on her own drawing. She found herself drawing the marina, the morning the gunman had found Trina. Was the man with the gun the same person Cody had drawn with the blood streak on his face? It seemed likely, but she wasn’t sure.

He nodded but didn’t say anything, simply drawing more ships.

When Cody finished his picture, he shoved it away. Since he seemed to lose interest in the paper and crayons, she decided not to push. He’d opened himself up enough, she didn’t want to add to his distress.

“There’s a Disney movie on the television,” Alex offered in a low voice. “Maybe he’d like to watch?”