Cal laughed, ducking through the door as Jack squealed happily.
Jess gathered up her purchases and hurried after them. She wasn’t sure just when she’d become part of the Toleffson parade, but it seemed harmless enough.
Pete was already at the Toleffson booth in the Dew Drop with Wonder when Cal walked in. “So? What do you think of her?”
Cal slid onto the bench across from him. “Jesus, what kind of jungle tom-tom do you have, anyway? The woman just left the clinic fifteen minutes ago.”
Pete waved a dismissive hand. “Lars told me about it at breakfast. You know about the burglar, right?”
Cal nodded. “Lars told me about it after he told you. That blue tick pup may not be able to do much more than bark, but he’ll sure do that.”
“Here’s hoping it doesn’t come to that.” Pete signaled across the room in Ruby’s general direction. She gave him a look that would have frozen a lesser man to stone.
Wonder shook his head. “How long is Ingstrom going to keep trying? Ruby alone should have killed off his business in under a week.”
“Consider the entertainment value,” Cal muttered as Ruby stomped their way.
“Whaddaya want?” she snarled.
“Dos Equis, Spaten, and Lone Star.” Pete gestured around the table. “The same thing we have every night.”
Ruby turned her back on them and stalked away in the general direction of the bar.
Wonder grimaced. “Don’t bait her, for god’s sake. Who knows what she might do to the beer.”
“Hard to do anything to sealed bottles.” Pete turned back to Cal. “You’re evading the question. What did you think of this Jess Carroll?”
Cal shrugged. “Nice. A little reserved. Young mother with a young child. What else can I tell you? Most of my time was spent trying to keep Daisy from bonding with the blue tick.”
“Did you find out anything about her? You know Docia and Janie are both going to ask.”
“Sure.” Cal leaned back in the booth. “Her father raised Weimaraners and she used to do obedience training. Do not ask me where or when, because that’s the extent of my knowledge.”
Ruby stalked back, unloading the beers onto the table with a sound like a rifle shot. “Six bucks. Plus tip.”
Pete narrowed his eyes at her.
Ruby didn’t blink.
Pete sighed, tossing an extra fifty cents on top of his two dollars. Wonder and Cal did the same.
“Big spenders,” Ruby snarled, stomping back toward the bar.
Pete turned back to Cal. “You think Lars is interested in her?”
For one dizzying moment, Cal thought he was referring to Ruby, then his brain clicked into gear. “If you mean romantically, I don’t know. They seemed…comfortable with each other.”
“‘Comfortable’ doesn’t tell me much, Calthorpe.”
Cal twisted the top off his Dos Equis. “What is this, high school? You sound like a cheerleader trying to find out who the quarterback is boffing.”
“Very funny.” Pete took a swallow of his Lone Star. “I have to face Janie tonight, who heard the whole burglar story when Lars came to pick up Daisy this morning. She’s going to want more than ‘comfortable’, believe me.”
“Yeah, well, I have to face Docia, and I don’t have anything more to tell you, Pete. She seems like a nice woman.”
“Maybe we could embroider it a little bit. What was the thing about obedience training?”
“Is that Erik?” Wonder peered through the gloom of the Dew Drop.
Cal turned, looking over the top of the booth. Erik sat at the far side of the bar, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. He had a glass of something on the table in front of him.
“Is he drinking?” Pete’s voice sounded heavy.
“Probably not. Looks like soda to me, although I suppose he could have something in it. He’s been pretty straight about the whole twelve-step thing, though.”
Wonder sucked in a breath. “Holy shit.”
Cal turned again. Someone else had sat at Erik’s table, but he couldn’t quite see who it was in the middle of the shifting crowd.
“Geez, look at that!” Pete breathed.
Two bodies moved out of the way so that Cal could get a better view of the table. Dahlia the barmaid sat opposite Erik, sipping from her own glass. In the dim light of the bar it was hard to tell, but Cal could swear she had more studs in her ears than usual.
He fought to keep from grinning. He didn’t want Erik to think he was laughing at him—their relationship was already shaky enough. After a moment, he turned back to Pete.
“Okay, now you’ve got your solution. Tell Janie about this. Trust me, it’ll take her mind straight off Lars and Jess Carroll.”
Chapter Ten
Sweetie was elaborately grateful to be free of his pen. He was elaborately grateful for his cardboard box bed in the utility room near the back door. He was elaborately grateful to be served his dinner of kibble, after which he took up residence beneath Jack’s high chair, busily cleaning off the bits of Jack’s food that reached the floor. Sweetie was elaborate, period.
Jack whooped and chortled, delighted with the dog. When Sweetie barked at a passing grackle, he stared wide-eyed for a moment, and then decided that was delightful too, beating his hands on his high chair in appreciation.
After dinner, Jess took them both outside for Sweetie’s evening cavort, holding Jack’s hands so that he could stand and watch. Sweetie obediently took care of his business, and she offered up a silent prayer of thanks to Armando, the night man with too much time on his hands and a gift for toilet training. Maybe she’d try to get him to work with Jack when he hit two.
Assuming they were still in Konigsburg when Jack hit two and not running for cover somewhere else.
She settled the dog into his towel-lined box in the utility room, between the dryer and the back door. “You’re sleeping here, Sweetie,” she explained, hoping he’d buy in. Sweetie thumped his tail on the floor, chewing on a rawhide toy Lars had bought him.
After both Sweetie and Jack seemed to have settled down, Jess dragged her sleeping bag and foam pad into Jack’s room, placing herself between the door and the crib. She’d made sure all the windows were latched, with nail stops pounded into the sashes to hold them closed. The doors were bolted and Sweetie was bedded down at the back.
But still. She drifted off to sleep listening to Jack’s gentle breathing.
She spent most of the next day keeping Daisy and Jack from overwhelming Sweetie with love, and keeping Sweetie from licking Daisy and Jack over every inch of exposed skin. She left the dog in the back yard when they went to clean the cabin, even though Daisy and Jack both raised beseeching gazes as Sweetie set up a mournful howl.
“He’s all right,” Jess explained. “We’ll only be gone for an hour or so.”
When they returned, Sweetie greeted them as if he’d been abandoned for weeks. His tail wagged so hard Jess wondered how he could walk. He whimpered at Jess, snuffled Daisy and licked the remains of Cheerios off Jack.
She herded the three of them inside for lunch. Apparently, she’d just acquired a third child.
When Lars arrived to pick up Daisy that night, she wanted to bring Sweetie home for a sleepover. Lars discouraged her gently but quite firmly.
“Everything okay?” he asked from the doorway.
Jess nodded. “We’re doing fine. Sweetie was a great idea.”
“All right then. I guess we’ll take off.” His gaze darted around the room once more, as if he were looking for threats. Then he gathered Daisy into his arms and headed for his SUV.
The evening was a repeat of the night before, except that Sweetie dozed next to the rocking chair while Jess nursed Jack, apparently exhausted from his long day of being a blue tick pup. He seemed perfectly happy to settle into his box in the utility room afterward, leaving Jess to totter off to her own bed an hour later.
Sweetie’s barking woke her at three a.m. She knew the time because she looked at the clock in the dining room as she headed for the back of the house.
“C’mon, dog,” she muttered. “You were okay last night. Don’t start this now.”
Sweetie’s baying and whining sounded like hounds on the scent. Jess wondered if he’d cornered a mouse or if there was a possum in the backyard. If Sweetie got this excited over wildlife, they were in for a long winter.
“Sweetie,” she called softly. “Knock it off. You’ll wake Jack.” She stepped into the utility room, flipping on the light switch.
Sweetie stood with his paws braced on the back door below the knob. His head was thrown back as he bayed a long string of ululations, sounding like he’d treed a family of raccoons.
“Sweetie,” she called again. “Stop it now. Be quiet.” She reached for the dog’s collar to drag him back from the door, then stopped, staring.
In the backdoor’s screened glass window, directly above the deadbolt, was a neat round hole, about four inches across. Just enough room for a hand to slide through soundlessly.
The breath left Jess’s chest as if she’d been punched. She staggered backward, putting out a hand to steady herself.
Sweetie dropped to the floor again and clicked toward her, whimpering.
She tried to pull her breath back into her lungs, her gaze fastened on the black circle of night in the glass. Then she fumbled for the switch beside the door, sending light pouring into the back yard.
The empty back yard.
She stared into the darkness, trying to see if anyone was there beyond the outer edge of the yard light. She closed her eyes for a moment, pressing her lips together tight to stop the trembling. Trying to make herself think.
Call Lars.
No
. It was three a.m. He’d be asleep. Call Erik. He might be asleep, too. Call the police. Call someone. Tell them…what?
Someone wants my baby. Lydia Moreland wants my baby.
No one would believe in a random burglary now. She’d have to tell them the whole story. But they probably wouldn’t believe that one either. She hardly believed it herself. And they’d probably call the Morelands to check her out.
But if she was right, it wouldn’t be a surprise. If she was right, Lydia already knew where she and Jack were living.
For a moment she thought again of throwing her things into the car, grabbing Jack and Sweetie, heading down the road to… Where?
Colorado? New Mexico? Louisiana? Oklahoma? Was there anywhere in the country where Lydia couldn’t find them, now that she’d picked up their scent?
Sweetie whimpered again, pushing his head against Jess’s hand.
“It’s okay,” she mumbled mechanically. “We’ll be okay.”
She turned and walked back into the dining room, Sweetie at her heels. The baseball bat still rested beside the china cabinet, where she’d put it after the last time the intruder had shown up.
Jess sank into one of the dining room chairs, pulling the bat between her knees. What was she going to do? What should she do? Run away? Stand and fight? How the hell did she stand and fight with a baby and a hound dog pup depending on her?
She closed her eyes for a moment, sucking in a breath. Someone wanted her baby. Lydia Moreland wanted her baby.
Suddenly, she felt a jolt of pure rage in her gut. Damn Lydia and all the Morelands, back to the first shifty-eyed Moreland pilgrim who’d set his greasy foot on American soil. All of them, every one, except for Barry.
“C’mon, Lydia,” she whispered. “C’mon, goddamn you. Just you and me. I’m ready for you this time.”
Sweetie circled three times, dropped at her feet, and promptly fell asleep.
Lars was running late that morning, but Daisy was raring to go. Apparently, the combination of Sweetie and Jack was well-nigh irresistible.
“C’mon Daddy,” she called. “Hurry up.”
Lars blew out a breath. They needed to have breakfast, but he had the feeling Daisy would never sit still that long. Sighing, he handed Daisy a granola bar and sent up a silent prayer that Jess would have some extra breakfast food on hand, along with Jack’s Cheerios.
At the cabin, Daisy rushed through the door the moment it was opened. “Sweetie,” she called, “Sweetie, I’m back.”
“Sorry about that,” Lars sighed. “You wouldn’t happen to have some breakfast…”
He stopped, staring. Jess Carroll looked like she’d gone three rounds with a rabid raccoon and lost. Her face was pale with exhaustion. Her eyes looked like ragged holes torn in paper.
“What happened?” he gasped.
She stared back at him for a moment, her eyes like stormy seas again. Then she motioned for him to follow her. He walked through the kitchen, into what looked like a utility room. Sweetie’s bed was pushed against one wall.
Jess pointed at the door. Lars’s hands clenched into fists. A perfectly round hole had been cut through the corner of the backdoor glass, a few inches above the lock.
“Probably a glass cutter.” She sighed. “Sweetie started barking and woke me up. He was gone before I got out here.”
She rubbed a hand across her face, blinking.
Lars swallowed hard. “How long have you been up?”
“It happened at three. So since then, I guess. I couldn’t go back to sleep after that.” Jess stared at the door, her face blank. He wasn’t sure she even saw it. She pressed her hand against her mouth, stifling a yawn.
“Jess,” he said quietly. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”
She shrugged. “Somebody’s trying to get in. I guess they want something from me.”
“Who, Jess?” Lars took hold of her arm, turning her so that she had to look at him. “Who’s after you? What do they want?” He had an overwhelming urge to shake her.
Until he looked at her more closely. Her lips trembled. She pressed her hand to her mouth again, as tears streaked down her cheeks. Her breath caught in a sob.
“Daddy?”
Daisy stood in the kitchen doorway, eyes wide. Lars wasn’t sure she’d ever seen a grown-up cry before.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He started back toward the kitchen. “Come on. Let’s make some breakfast for Mrs. Carroll and Jack.”
Jess choked back another sob. “I can make breakfast. You need to go to work.”
Lars shook his head. “Go to bed, Jess. You’re dead on your feet. I’ll watch everything until you wake up.”
“But Jack…”
“Go to bed.” He pushed her gently toward the hall. “It’s okay. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen.”
“Daddy?” Daisy stared up at him. “Are you staying?”
He nodded. “I’m staying. I’ll call Mrs. Suarez and tell her to forward any calls and reschedule my appointments.”
Four hours later, Lars had developed a new appreciation for Jess’s normal routine. He’d underestimated how often babies needed changing and how short a two-year-old’s attention span could be and how much chaos a rambunctious puppy could create in under five minutes.
Mrs. Suarez had agreed to reschedule as many appointments as she could. Fortunately, he hadn’t had any new clients coming in today and the others he could probably fit into the rest of the week.
By noon he was ready to take the whole crew to McDonald’s, except he didn’t know if Jack could eat anything on their menu. He made soup for Daisy instead and fed Jack some strained turkey that he didn’t seem too enthusiastic about. Now all he had to do was get through the rest of the afternoon.
And wait for Jess to wake up.
The questions he needed to ask her prickled at the back of his mind.
Who are you? What are you doing here? What did you do before you came to Konigsburg that’s following you and Jack around now?
Do I need to be afraid for my daughter?
After lunch he bundled Jack and Daisy into Jack’s room, lowering the baby into his crib and getting Daisy into a sleeping bag he’d found on the floor of the room.
Had Jess been sleeping there? Why was she sleeping in her baby’s room?
He read them a story from a picture book of fairy tales. Jack drifted off, and Daisy’s eyes were drooping.
“Where’s Sweetie?” she mumbled.
“He’ll take his nap while you do,” Lars murmured in her ear. “You’ll all be fit and ready to go in an hour.” He just hoped he was too.
When he stumbled back into the dining room, he found Jess sitting at the table, a pile of papers spread out in front of her.
“Are they asleep?” she asked.
He nodded, dropping into the chair beside her. “We’ve got an hour or so.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath, then let it out in a gusty sigh. “I guess you need my life story. Or part of it, anyway. I’ll tell you what I can.”
Lars swallowed, ignoring the tightness in his chest. “Go for it.”
“My husband’s name was Barry. Barrett Moreland. That’s our wedding license.” She handed him an official-looking sheet of paper with a state seal in one corner. “And that’s Jack’s birth certificate. I figured by now you might be wondering if I was a kidnapper or worse.”
He blinked at her. “I didn’t…” But of course he had. At least it had crossed his mind.
Jess shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I can find the card from Barry’s funeral too, if you need it. I really am a widow. I didn’t want to drag you into this, but it looks like I may have to. At least for some of it.” She sighed again, rubbing a hand across her face. “I’m not sure what all to tell you about us.”
“Where are you from?”
“Most recently, Belle View, Pennsylvania. Before that Indiana.”
“Was your husband from there, too?”
“Yes. His family lives there.” Her expression was guarded suddenly.
“How did you meet him?” Lars settled back in his chair.
“In a bar.” She gave him a rueful grin. “Barry loved to tell people that. He was a recovering alcoholic, so it made an impression. I’m a Web developer, but I had a friend who owned a restaurant. I used to tend bar for him sometimes. Barry came in one night, drinking soda since he wasn’t doing booze anymore.”
Lars tried to remember all the things he was going to ask. Suddenly, his mind was a blank. “Was this in Pennsylvania?”
“Right. Belle View. I worked for an ISP there.”
“ISP?”
“Internet Service Provider. I was one of their techies.” She sorted through the papers on the table in front of her. “That’s Barry.”
Lars stared at the picture of the two of them. Barry looked older by a few years, or maybe just more worn out. But his smile was warm, and the affection in his expression as he looked at his wife seemed genuine. “You made a nice-looking couple.”
“Thanks.” She took the picture back again, staring at it for a moment. “He wasn’t drinking when we met. He’d already quit. But the drinking had hurt him—a lot.” She tucked the picture back in the stack of papers. “He had heart problems. I think he’d always had them, but being an alcoholic didn’t help. He told me when I married him I was getting a wreck, but I didn’t care. He was such a sweet man.”
She raised her gaze to Lars again. “I didn’t know who he was when we first met. The name Moreland didn’t mean much to me. I knew the Moreland family was a big deal in Belle View, but I figured Barry must be some poor relation. He didn’t look like a millionaire.”