Janice Johnson - In Hope's Shadow

She looked from Seth to Ben, her confusion apparent. “Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? ’Cause I never got two detectives before when I complained.”

“No. I’m sorry.” Ben cleared his throat. She seemed more comfortable talking to him than to Seth, which wasn’t unusual. Seth’s rougher face and bulkier build were intimidating to a certain kind of witness. “We’re not usually involved in domestic violence calls.” Until they escalated into homicide, of course, but he wasn’t about to say that. He explained that Ken’s name had come up in the course of their investigation into a recent robbery, and they were hoping she’d be willing to tell them if she’d heard him making plans.

“Um... I heard some stuff.” She ducked her head, hiding her face behind her hair. “I shoulda told somebody,” she said softly. “I felt bad when I saw about it on TV. I mean, them hurting that guy.” She looked up. “He didn’t die, did he?”

“Why don’t you tell us what you heard before I answer any questions,” Ben said gently.

“That jewelry store,” she said, looking surprised. “That’s what you’re here about, isn’t it?”

He smiled at her. “Yes, it is.”

After agreeing to be recorded, she began, “See, he was real mad about getting fired.”

At the end, Ben asked if she’d be willing to testify in court as to what she’d heard. When she hesitated, he told her honestly he couldn’t guarantee Hardison would be convicted, but if he was, he’d be put away for a good, long time given how brutal the assault had been on the store owner and how serious his injuries.

Her face firmed and she squared her shoulders. “I’ll do that. After he hurt me so many times, he don’t deserve any loyalty from me.”

“No, he doesn’t.” Ben smiled at her as he rose to his feet. “You’ve been an excellent witness, Ms. Baker.” He extracted a promise from her to inform him of any moves, and told her he’d keep her informed. Seth thanked her, too, then grinned at Ben as they walked to their car.

“I have Dietz on speed dial,” he said.

Jennifer Dietz was the Deputy Prosecuting Attorney they’d been working with on this investigation.

“Call her,” Ben agreed.

* * *

NICOLE CROSSED HER arms and adopted a combative stance as she waited with Ben for Rachel to rush to her room to grab her rolling pink suitcase. “What if you get called in to work?” she asked. “Tell me you have somebody responsible to watch over Rach until I can pick her up.”

They’d only had this same conversation twenty or thirty times. Had she dredged it up again because he’d been incautious enough during their phone conversation Wednesday to mention being out for dinner? Dumb to let it slip, given that Nic had been friendly, wanting to talk about an issue she had with Rachel’s teacher.

Now he unclenched his jaw enough to allow him to speak. “You’ve met Mrs. Chaffee. She’s watched Rachel a couple times before. Rachel likes her.”

“What if she’s not home?”

He kept his voice low, but wasn’t able to strip it entirely of anger. “I haven’t yet left my daughter alone, and I won’t. She’s as safe with me as she is with you.”

“Daddy?” Speaking from right behind her mother, Rachel sounded uncertain. He hadn’t heard her returning.

“Hey, kiddo.” Tilting his head to see past Nicole, he smiled at his little girl. “You sure you have everything?”

“Uh-huh. Bye, Mommy.” She submitted to a hug from her mother, then took Ben’s hand and trotted down the porch steps happily with him.

His last glimpse was of Nicole still standing in the doorway, even from a distance radiating hostility.

He tried to call up a recollection of the last time there’d been warmth between them and failed. Passion, yes, but it had been forever since he and Nicole had had fun talking over dinner, or since she’d asked about his day and seemed to care. And, yeah, he had asked about her day, and cared.

He heard his own voice. You’re saying that Nic drawing a line in the sand over the hours I worked was...a diversion. He rejected the thought between one blink and the next. No, there’d been love, all right. He just wished he knew what had killed her love for him.

“So, pumpkin, how was school?” he asked, looking in the rearview mirror to see Rach, and listened to her chatter.

She worked her way around to negotiating mode. “Can we have pizza, Daddy? You said—”

“We’re not going out tonight,” he told her firmly. “If you want pizza tomorrow after the movie, that’s what we’ll have. Tonight, I’m making tacos, which I know you like.”

She giggled. Which made him remember Eve’s laugh, but, no, he wasn’t going there.

“And for dessert,” he added, “we’re making cookies.”

“Can we make chocolate chip?” she begged.

“Nope, we’re doing cutout cookies like people make for Christmas, except we can make hearts and trees and unicorns and all kinds of shapes instead of reindeer and stars.”

Her face brightened. “With frosting?”

“And sprinkles.”

“That will be fun,” she decided, and bounced in her booster seat.

Unfortunately, he’d overestimated her attention span. She happily cut out enough cookies to fill one cookie sheet, “helped” him spread frosting once they’d come out of the oven and decorated about two cookies before asking if she could watch a movie now.

If she’d chosen How to Train Your Dragon 1 or 2 , or even The Lego Movie , he might have joined her. But Frozen ? He swore she watched it every time she came, and he knew she had it at home, too.

So he put the DVD in for her, poured her a glass of milk, gave her a couple of cookies and set himself to cutting out, baking and decorating a couple of dozen more. Slapping on frosting, he wondered how different it might have gone if Eve had been here. He bet she could have made decorating cookies fun.

* * *

ROD CARTER FINALLY agreed to meet with Eve on Saturday morning. It wasn’t as if she’d had any more interesting offers for the weekend. So why not work? she thought wryly. In an attempt not to think about Ben and Rachel and what they were doing, she turned her mind to Joel, who had sounded scared the last time they talked.

She had suggested a coffee shop, wanting to separate Rod from his wife and also be able to talk without either Joel or Gavin overhearing. She was already seated in a comfortable, upholstered chair with her chai, staking out a reasonably private corner, when he arrived ten minutes late.

“Sorry,” he said, when he joined her after getting his coffee. “Ah, Lynne wanted me to say how sorry she is that things aren’t so good with Joel. She’s really trying, you know.”

His discomfiture suggested he didn’t believe that, but Eve decided to steer away from challenging the statement right away.

“I’m sorry you weren’t there to talk the last couple times I’ve come out. You know Joel a lot better than your wife does.”

Lines deepened in his forehead. “I thought I did.”

“I gather Mr. Rowe is a difficult neighbor.” Eve sipped her tea.

Rod grunted. “You could say that.”

“Do you know who besides Joel has annoyed him?”

“Who hasn’t?” he muttered. “He reamed me out a month or so ago when some dog knocked over my garbage can and I wasn’t out there early enough in the morning to pick up all the crap.”

“Gavin?”

“Oh, Gavin has his car souped up and Rowe bitches about the racket.” He brooded briefly. “There’s no pleasing him. Guess he was never young.”

“I don’t suppose there’s a teenager in the neighborhood he likes.”