Karen Rose - I’m Watching You

Abe nodded. „ I know. I think I knew it this morning, but that a cop could go bad isn’t an easy thing for me to admit.“ She massaged her nape again and he tightened his fingers around the warm mug to keep from taking over the task. „Just let it down.“

Her eyes widened. „Excuse me?“

He sipped at his tea. „Let your hair down. Those pins are giving you a headache. Besides, it isn’t like I haven’t seen it down before, and you are in your own house now.“

After a moment’s hesitation she did, pulling out a handful of pins, letting her hair fall to her shoulders. Well, fall was the wrong word, he thought. It boinged , like so many springs, sending fiery curls in every which direction. He chuckled into his tea, imagining she’d be none too pleased with his thoughts.

„What?“

Her face relaxed as her fingers threaded through her curls and Abe tightened his fingers around his mug, wondering if her curls were soft or coarse, knowing that the scent of her hair would linger on his hands if he was ever brave enough to find out. Instead he shook his head. „You’ll be mad.“

She tucked her tongue in her cheek. „What, little Orphan Annie? Looks like I stuck my finger in a light socket? I’ve heard them all before.“

„I like it.“

Her eyes narrowed as if she suspected him of lying but was too polite to voice it aloud. „Thank you.“

They were quiet for a few minutes, then, sipping their tea in the absolute quiet of her kitchen and Abe wondered if there was ever noise in Kristen Mayhew’s house. His own parents’ house had been so noisy that he’d often yearned for quiet, but the silence in Kristen’s house was oppressive. Despite her efforts to renovate room by room, the house had an empty feeling. „How long have you lived here?“ he asked.

„About two years.“ She looked around fondly. „It’s been fun making this place over.“

„You do good work,“ he said and she smiled in genuine pleasure. „My sister Annie has her own interior design business. She’d love the challenge of an old place like this.“

„It was built in 1903. I uncover hand-carved wood in every room I redo, but I haven’t even contemplated the kitchen yet. I’ve kind of been waiting for one of the appliances to die so I have a good excuse to buy new ones. But I don’t cook often, so the oven’s safe, and the refrigerator seems to be immortal.“

„Annie would show these old appliances the door with no remorse. My mother fought her for years over redoing our kitchen at home, but Annie finally won. Mom complained every day the kitchen was out of her hands, but in the end she loved it.“

Kristen’s mouth curved, a little wistfully, he thought.

„Your mom seems like a nice woman. Takes good care of her baby.“

„I’m not the baby,“ he corrected. „That would be Rachel.“

She lifted a brow. „Ah, yes. Rachel that wants to be me. She’s thirteen?“

Abe shuddered dramatically. „Apparently so.“

„A bit of a late-life surprise, huh?“

„More like the shock of the century.“ He grinned at her. „I remember us all being appalled to find our parents still did it at all.“ She chuckled in answer, but said nothing and within a minute the quiet became suffocating once again. „How about you?“ he found himself asking. „Family in the area?“

She shook her head. „No.“

He leaned forward slightly, waiting. „And?“

She leaned back, so slightly he was sure she didn’t realize she’d pulled away. She’d maintained her distance, consciously or not. „No, I don’t have any family here in Chicago.“

Abe frowned. Her tone had become flat, her eyes blank. „Where then? Kansas?“

Her eyes flashed at the mention of her home state and her teacup slowly lowered to the table. „No. Thank you for escorting me home, Detective Reagan. It’s been a long day for both of us.“ She stood up, and irked, he would have done the same if he hadn’t seen her hands tremble just before she locked them behind her back. Still dressed in her dark suit and heels, he imagined this was how she stood in court, seemingly impervious.

With her hands trembling behind her back. So he kept his seat.

Yesterday she said she had no friends. Today, it was no family. It struck him that in both times he’d made a sweep through her house he’d seen no pictures, not a single personal memento, with the exception of the law school diplomas that hung over her desk. „Sit down, Kristen.“ He pulled her chair closer to where she rigidly stood. „Please.“

Her jaw clenched and she looked away. „Why?“

„Because you’ve got to be exhausted.“

She shook her head and her curls bounced. „No, why is it so important to know about my family?“

„Because… it’s family.“

She turned to look at him and her eyes were no longer angry, but weary. „You’re close to your family, Detective?“

Detective . She seemed determined to keep him at arm’s length. He was equally determined to see the wall she’d erected torn down. „I haven’t seen much of them over the past few years because of the job. But yes, we’re close. They’re my family.“

„Then I’m happy for you. Truly. But you should know that the majority of families aren’t close, tight-knit little units. The majority of families have problems.“

„You’re awfully young to be so jaded.“

Her shoulders sagged. „I’m a hell of a lot older than you think.“

He stood up then. „What I think is that you’re tired. Try to get some sleep.“

Her mouth twisted. „Sleep well, Kristen?“ she mocked bitterly. „Somehow I don’t think so.“ She lifted a hand when he opened his mouth to speak. „Don’t say it.“

„Say what?“

„Don’t tell me to go to a hotel. This is my home. I will not let him make me leave.“

He picked up their cups and put them in the sink. „I wasn’t planning to. I was planning to offer to run to the drugstore and get you something to help you sleep.“ She closed her eyes, one hand clutching the back of the chair.

„Why are you being so nice to me, Detective?“ It was a damn good question. Because she seemed so alone? Because he’d seen her scared and vulnerable when the face she showed everyone else was confident and brave? Because he wondered why there were no party dresses in her closet and no family pictures on her nightstand? Because he found her fascinating and couldn’t get her out of his mind? Because her laugh was like a sucker punch to his gut?

„I don’t know,“ he answered grimly. „Why won’t you call me by my first name?“

Her eyes flew open, suddenly wary. „I… I don’t know.“

„Fair enough.“ He pulled on his coat, conscious of her eyes following the movements of his hands as he buttoned up. When he reached the button at his throat, her eyes rose to meet his and he could see she was still troubled by his question. Good, because he was troubled by hers as well. „I’ll swing by the courthouse tomorrow morning to pick you up. I’d like to visit the rest of the original victims before the families of our five dead guys make a connection with tonight’s report and contact your friend Richardson.“

At the mention of Richardson, her lips thinned. „I’ll be ready.“

Thursday, February 19,

10:30 p.m.

He was cold. Very cold. His hands ached and he glanced longingly at the fur-lined gloves sticking up out of his bag. Soon. For now he’d have to make do with the thin leather gloves. The warm gloves were so thick he couldn’t feel the trigger.

He wriggled a little on his stomach, trying to get comfortable on the hard concrete. Fought the urge to check his watch. No more than an hour could have passed since he arrived. He’d spent three times that long crouched in duck blinds on cold mornings waiting for feathered prey. He could wait a little longer for a prize infinitely more valuable.