“Forgive me for being set in my ways, but I learned a long time ago not to put all my eggs in one basket,” Chief O’Connor said. “I have someone else following that lead. Someone who has no idea that you, or your job for me, even exist. I’m paying you to use your highly touted skills to find my daughter and grandson, which you’ve done, and to be fully focused there, to keep me informed. It’s been years since I’ve had any word of my daughter and these weekly calls of ours...well, let’s just say they’re the best moments I’ve had in all those years. And I won’t risk having any searches for
her coming from the town in which she lives. There can’t be anything connecting our investigation too close to her.”
Tad nodded, understanding. He’d succeeded in tracking her down, via the access he continued to have to law enforcement databases of various kinds. He’d learned a great deal about her.
But he still wasn’t satisfied. He didn’t even know Dana’s ex’s name. The cop in him needed to be certain, especially after witnessing from the sidelines the Devon Williams nightmare that week, that he was working with complete and accurate information.
In his entire career, he’d always double-checked facts himself. He wasn’t a “rely on others” kind of guy.
“You’re one hundred percent certain her ex is dead.” His voice could be intimidating, too, when necessary.
“Yes. I have definitive proof. I give you my word on that.”
Then there was nothing more to be said. He’d accepted the job. He respected the man. Hell, all of North Carolina respected him if such a thing was possible. Heroes didn’t come around every day, and when they did, they didn’t shine as often or as brightly as Brian O’Connor had. Again and again, over the course of a lifetime, he’d risked his life, and volunteered his time, too, to save and enrich the lives of those in his community. And his state.
If he’d grown a little eccentric over the years, Tad figured that was his right.
He owed him the news that Tad would be having dinner with his grandson in a few minutes. That he could call back later with a report the chief had been waiting for.
He owed him. And he reneged.
He’d figure that one out later.
First, he had a date to keep.
In a manner of speaking...
Chapter 3
“So...are we like...on a thing?” Ethan glanced between Miranda and Tad, his eyes rimmed by the dark-framed glasses he’d chosen because he thought they resembled the ones worn by Clark Kent, Superman’s alter ego—the Superman of earlier days that Miranda had shared with him. If her son had been grinning, teasing, she might have been able to brush the moment aside.
“No.” She reined in the rest of the blurted response that almost came out, changing it to a mildly firm denial. “I told you, Tad and I work together.”
They’d just ordered their burgers, and all three had glasses of soda with straws sitting in front of them. The minutes they’d be waiting until their food was delivered suddenly seemed interminable.
“On a committee.” Ethan nodded. “You said you work together on a committee.” He looked at Tad. “Do you like my mom?”
“Of course I like your mom. Why would I eat dinner with someone I didn’t like?”
“Exactly,” Ethan said, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Do you know the game Zoo Attack?”
Breathing a sigh of relief, Miranda took a sip of soda and let her son have at Tad. After all, the off-duty detective had asked for the meeting to get to know Ethan better.
“No. I don’t know that game,” Tad said, elbows resting on the arms of his chair.
“It’s really cool,” Ethan said. “You get to be in the zoo, taking care of animals, and then danger comes and you have to solve puzzles to save the animals...”
As she listened to her son’s in-depth and enthusiastic description of his favorite video game, Miranda wanted to relax. To enjoy the moment.
There was much to enjoy. In spite of everything, she’d raised a boy who was confident enough, trusting and outgoing enough, to take charge of a conversation with a virtual stranger. A male stranger.
And she was sitting with a man who, in another lifetime, might have been someone she’d feel passionate about. Watching Tad as he seemed to give Ethan his full focus, engaging in conversation as though the conversation mattered to him, she felt again that peculiar bounce of joy inside, as though she was with someone special.
“I’d like that,” Tad said, and she tuned back in, realizing, too late, that Ethan had just invited him to their house over the weekend to learn how to play Zoo Attack in two-player mode, which meant that they’d be racing against each other to get puzzles solved to save animals.
Tad couldn’t come to their home. Ethan would ask, “Why not?” She could hear his voice inside her head, asking. No simple or credible-sounding reply presented itself. But the answer was unequivocal. He could not come into their home.
Home was her safe place. The only space she could be herself without fear...