Agent Undercover (9 page)

D
ylan stood in the corner of the kitchen as Will gripped the knife, the little knuckles white and strained. “Will, I need you to put the knife on the counter, okay?”

How long could the little guy continue to stand there holding the heavy kitchen utensil? Dylan’s heart banged a fast rhythm in his chest. What was he supposed to do? How could he help Will? What was going on in the boy’s mind?

From a clinical standpoint, Dylan could see Will’s pulse throbbing in his neck. His chest heaved with some emotion Dylan couldn’t identify, although he thought it might be fear.

And anger.

Beneath it all, he could see the anger in the little boy.

And Dylan didn’t blame him. “Will, it’s okay, just put the knife down, please.”

Dylan glanced at the phone he’d laid on the counter. He’d already texted Paige three times. What was she doing? She was DEA, but she was also trained to work with traumatized children. And Will seemed to trust her.

Dylan wanted her here. Now. “Hey, buddy, you want me to try Paige again?”

The knife lowered.

Dylan took that as an affirmative and nearly shouted with relief. Finally, a breakthrough.

He reached for his phone and it buzzed in his hand. Out loud, he read, “I’m on my way.”

Will’s eyes went to the window, the door and then landed back on Dylan.

“Will, are you afraid?” Surely Will didn’t think Dylan was going to hurt him? Dylan’s heart nearly exploded with pain at the thought.

The little boy’s eyelids flickered. His breath puffed in and out. Turning his back on Dylan, he walked to the kitchen table, grabbed a chair and pulled it toward the back door. Dylan stepped toward him. “Want some help?”

What was the child doing? And where was Paige?

Will ignored him but kept the knife in his right hand, the chair clutched in his left.

Dylan considered going up behind Will and grabbing the knife from him, and yet Will obviously wasn’t ready to give it up. And Dylan didn’t want to scare him by sneaking up on him. As long as it looked like he wasn’t going to hurt himself, he’d let him hang on to it.

Finally, Will had the chair where he wanted it. He climbed up to look out the window.

Dylan stepped toward him until he was just a few feet away. “Did you see someone out there?”

Still, the child stared out the window, not acknowledging Dylan’s presence.

A knock on the front door made them both jump, and Will let out a sound that was a cross between a grunt and a groan as he turned to stare in the direction of the foyer.

Dylan backed up, not taking his eyes from his nephew. “It’s just Paige. I’m going to let her in. Okay?”

Will blinked and some of the terror fled his features.

Dylan made his way to the front door, still keeping Will
in his line of vision. He made a quick check that it was Paige then flung the door open.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as she stepped inside.

“In the kitchen. Will’s having some sort of …” What should he call it? A breakdown? A panic attack? “… something.”

He strode the three steps back into the kitchen with Paige on his heels. Her light scent drifted toward him, and he breathed in the comfort of it, thankful she was here.

Paige stepped around him and drew in a breath at the sight of Will on the chair, big knife clutched in his little hand. Her mind clicked with her training. How to approach him? She knew something of his personality, knew he’d suffered a trauma, knew he needed understanding. “Hello, Will.” She kept her voice soft, non-jarring, non-threatening.

His stance shifted, some of the tension easing from him. “Hey, little man, your uncle Dylan seems to think you want me here. What can I do for you?”

He licked his lips, and his eyes flicked toward the door, then back to her.

Paige could still see the lingering terror in his eyes. Something had scared him. Terrified him. “Can you give me the knife and trust me to keep you safe?”

Paige waited for what seemed like an eternity as she watched him think about it. Finally, he nodded and held the knife out toward her.

Dylan’s harsh sigh made her blink, but she refused to look behind her, keeping her eyes trained on Will. She stepped forward and took the knife from his fingers.

His little face crumpled, and he began to cry, deep, silent sobs that nearly tore her heart from her chest.

Turning, Paige handed the knife to Dylan who took it
and used his shirtsleeve to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Her heart clenched at the lost look in his eyes.

Anger, swift and hot, flowed through her at the person doing this to this little family.

Then Will claimed her attention as his little arms wrapped around her waist, and he rested his head against her belly. Holding him against her, she raised her eyes to meet Dylan’s. Tears stood in his, and he shook his head in a helpless gesture.

Paige let Will cry for a good minute, then cupped his wet cheeks in her palms and lifted his face. Using her thumbs, she swiped the tears and told him, “It’s going to be okay.” Part of her felt a bit of guilt for telling him that, but she had a feeling that’s what he needed to hear right now.

She felt a touch on her arm and looked up to see Dylan motioning her toward the den. Taking Will’s hand in hers, she led him to the sofa and settled on it. Will climbed up beside her and rested his head against her. She wrapped an arm around him and within minutes, he was snoring gently.

Dylan sank onto the sofa, sandwiching Will between them. He stared at her over the little boy’s head and whispered, “I’m sorry for my frantic texts. I wasn’t sure what to do. He had that knife and …” He broke off and closed his eyes. “I knew I could get it from him if I needed to, but I think he
needed
me to let him keep it.”

Paige’s heart went out to the man struggling so hard to do what was right for his nephew. “I’m so sorry. And I don’t mind helping whenever I can.” She leaned Will against his uncle. “Here, let him lean against you. I want to look around outside.”

Dylan started. “You really think there was someone out there?”

“I don’t know. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to find out because something sure scared him.” As she shifted the little boy onto his uncle’s chest, his fingers grazed her cheek.

The spark that arced between them took her breath away, and she gulped. Her lungs struggled to remember how to function, and her pulse skipped a happy beat. The smokey look in his eyes said he felt the exact same thing she did.

Paige cleared her throat and looked at Will, trying to force a coherent thought into a brain that seemed to have short-circuited.

Dylan let her off the hook by changing the subject back to more serious matters. A fact for which she was grateful. He said, “Will was worried about the back door. If he saw something, it was out there.”

She frowned. “In the garage?”

“Yeah. I hadn’t shut the garage door yet so anyone could have walked inside.” Paige grimaced and watched Dylan flush. Before she could say anything, he held up a hand. “I know. I should have closed it the minute we pulled in. I’m just not used to … looking over my shoulder.”

Paige stood. “I hate to say it, but until we figure out what’s going on around this little town, you might want to start.” She looked at Will, then back at Dylan. “Do you know how long he was in the kitchen?”

“Not entirely. I thought he was asleep in his bed. I only came in here because I heard a noise. It was him.”

She nodded. “All right. I’ll be right back.”

Slipping out the door, she removed the strap over her weapon and skirted around to the garage.

Looking for anything out of the ordinary, Paige scanned the area around the house.

Spying nothing there, she worked her way into the garage. The light came on, and she saw Dylan framed in
the window. He opened the door and stood there, watching her. Examining the garage.

She spotted her mangled bike leaning against the wall and grimaced. “You would have been justified in sending it to the dump.”

He shrugged. “It looks pretty expensive. If you can have it repaired …”

Lifting a brow, she shook her head. “I don’t think that’s going to be possible.”

Then he said, “Over there, beside the gas can.”

“What?”

“It’s dirt.”

She glanced at him. “And that’s unusual in your garage?”

A smile curved his lips, but it had no humor in it. “It is when I just cleaned the garage early this morning before I took Will to school. There’s no reason for it to be in here.”

“What about Will’s shoes? What if he was playing at school and—”

Dylan was shaking his head. “No. I’m telling you, that wasn’t there when I walked in the house a few hours ago.”

“Okay, then my guess is Will saw someone in the window of that door, and it terrified him. He grabbed the knife …”

“But why wouldn’t he give it to me? Why wouldn’t he hand it over when I asked him for it?”

Paige frowned, thinking. “Did he act threatening toward you?”

“No, not at all. It was like he was torn. He wanted to check the door, but he didn’t want to leave me….” Again, he trailed off.

“Do you think he felt like
he
needed to protect
you
for some reason?”

Dylan blew out a sigh. “I can’t imagine why. It makes no sense.”

“I’m not saying that’s what he was doing. It’s just a theory.”

Paige reentered the house and saw he’d covered Will with a blanket from the couch. Dylan looked at her. “He connects with you. Somehow, someway—in a way that I can’t—he’s picked you to bond with.” Paige couldn’t tell exactly how he felt about that, but it didn’t seem to upset him or make him jealous.

He studied her for a few moments, then moved closer. She froze when he lifted a hand and placed it on her cheek. He whispered, “I don’t blame him.”

Paige felt her heart clog her throat as she met his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean—” A flush crept into his cheeks and he looked like he wanted to bite his tongue. Instead, he cleared his throat and said, “I mean, I can’t believe how God dropped you into my life right when I needed Him to.”

“God?”

“Yes.”

She smiled. “You know, I’ve been so busy building a life, climbing the career ladder, putting the bad guys in jail, I haven’t really stopped to think about God much lately.”

Dylan dropped his hand and led her over to the second couch facing the fireplace. She sat down and he scooted next to her. Very close to her. She almost asked him to move so she could think straight, then decided she liked having him so near.

He was saying, “You mentioned that your childhood wasn’t exactly ideal. Can you tell me a little about it?”

The question jarred her. She didn’t want to think about
her lousy past. But she wanted something with this man. Something she wasn’t sure she could have. Something she was scared to consider. “I grew up in a crack house, basically.”

He choked. “A what?”

“It’s not a pretty story, Dylan. It wasn’t country club and tee times for me.”

Incredulous, he just stared, then asked, “So how did you get from there to … here?”

Paige leaned her head back to stare at the ceiling. “There was a couple in our neighborhood, Mama Ida and Papa Stu. They could have probably lived anywhere they wanted to, but they chose to stay in that neighborhood and do their best to save the children.”

“Missionaries?”

“Technically. I guess. They didn’t call themselves missionaries, but they definitely did mission work. I would go over to their house every chance I got. My mom didn’t care. She was strung out most of the time and didn’t notice whether I came home or not.”

“What about a grandparent or a family member? There was no one else you could have lived with?”

“No. As far as I know, my mother was an only child. And my grandmother was as bad as my mother, so …” She shrugged, the old shame creeping into her as she related her story. And if he knew about Ben, there was no way he’d want her taking care of Will. “Anyway, Mama Ida showed me there was another life, another world out there. I wanted what she had. She’s the one who led me to Christ.” Paige blew out a sigh. “Funny, I haven’t thought about them in a while and now … All the memories are just flowing.”

He reached over and squeezed her fingers. “Thanks for sharing that with me.”

She nodded and he leaned forward, lips millimeters from her. Paige drew back. She glanced at Will and felt grief pierce her. “And that’s why I’ll never be a mother.”

S
o, he hadn’t misunderstood. He watched as she left, his hopes crushed, mangled. She didn’t want children. And he had a bad feeling there wasn’t any way he was going to change her mind.

A heavy sigh escaped him.
Lord, I’m not sure what You’re doing, but I sure wish You’d let me in on the plan. If Paige won’t ever be a mother, then we can’t ever be together. It’s as simple as that. And yet, I thought You might be working something out between us. If You’re not, then would You take away the growing feelings I have for her? They’re making me crazy.

Dylan figured God would reveal the reason He’d thrown he and Paige together at some point. But what if they weren’t meant to be together? What if God had brought her into his and Will’s life simply because He knew that she was the only person Will would respond to? What if Dylan didn’t figure into the plan?

Despair hit him. God didn’t work that way, did He?

He just wasn’t sure. One thing about faith was accepting that you couldn’t see the big picture. However, the one thing he was sure of was that God had a plan and whatever it was, it was the best thing for Dylan and Will. The thought reassured him somewhat.

As gently as possible, Dylan picked Will up from the couch and transferred him to the big king bed. Will didn’t need to be alone tonight. Normally, Dylan firmly believed children belonged in their own beds, but tonight … Well, tonight was different. If Will woke from his nightmares, Dylan wanted to be right by his side.

Dylan settled himself into the recliner once again and grabbed his Bible from the nightstand. Between Will and Paige, Dylan’s heart was on the world’s record of roller-coaster rides.

Again, his mind circled to the fact that Paige felt she’d make a lousy mother. He couldn’t grasp it. So she’d had a rotten childhood. A lot of people did. And they became parents. Some of them turned out to be good ones; some didn’t. Dylan flashed to her tender care of Will, her concern about the children at the school and the possibility that someone was dealing drugs in a place that was supposed to be safe and nurturing.

She couldn’t see it, but she would be a great mother.

Lord, help me show her. But protect my heart if it’s not to be.

His brain worked on the problem.

And, slowly, a plan formed.

If God allowed it, Dylan wanted Paige in his life long enough to figure out if they could have a relationship worth fighting for. His gaze went to Will, still sleeping. He looked peaceful for once.

But how long would that last?

What had Will seen in the garage that had frightened him so much?

A chill settled around Dylan. Was it the same person that had set fire to his sister’s house?

And if so, had Will seen the person responsible?

Dylan shuddered and determined to check into an alarm system first thing in the morning.

As a child, she used to hate Saturday mornings. It meant being home all day. No school meant no food most days. Summers had been the hardest. Thankfully, the sweet couple in her neighborhood had fed her at least one good meal each day when school was out.

For the first time in a long while, she thought about her mother. Should she call her? Ask her if she needed anything?

Her gaze went to the phone and before she thought twice about it, she dialed the number.

“Hello?” The raspy voice from her childhood. It sent chills through her. “Who is this?”

She cleared her throat. “It’s uh, me, Mom.”

Silence. Then, “Well, well. Hello, Paige.”

“How are you doing?”

“’Bout the same.”

“You need anything?”

“Nope.”

“Mom, I …”

“I’m good, Paige. I’ve come to realize something over the past few months. You don’t owe me nothing.”

A surprising statement from the woman who thought Paige owed her for the simple fact that she was alive and walking the earth. “That’s not why I’m calling.”

Why was she calling? Did she think her memories of her mother had been faulty in some way? That her mother had somehow developed the ability to love someone other than herself?

Maybe.

“Then what do you need, girl?”

“Just … just, will you call me if I can do anything?”

A hacking cough filtered through the line and made Paige wince. Then her mother laughed. “You can send me some money. That’s about all I need. At least for the next few months. Then I suppose you won’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“Mom …”

“See ya, Paige.”

Click. Paige pulled the phone from her ear and stared at the screen.

Why did she even bother?

Yet a tiny part of her admitted she wanted her mother to tell her she loved her. Another part of her was mad that she cared.

Enough of the past. Paige shoved the thoughts away and focused on the present.

Standing off to the side, near the window, Paige sipped her coffee and looked out into the still dark street.

In a few minutes, she would call Charles and find out if he’d gotten a hit on the partial plate she’d given him. In addition to the plate, she’d added a vague description of the car. With those two things, he should be able to dramatically narrow down the list.

Then she would call Dylan and see if she could help him work on his files to come up with someone who had a grudge against him.

Still, something niggled at the back of her mind. She couldn’t shake the feeling she was missing something. Something that should be obvious.

What was it?

Her phone rang and she jumped. Rolling her eyes at her reaction, she snatched the device from the counter.

Charles. He’d beat her to the draw.

She punched the button and said, “You’re up early.”

“I’ve got a case I want closed.”

His gruff voice made her smile. Then she frowned. “What do you have?”

“Your plate and description of the car came up with only one possibility. Simon Moore.”

She set her coffee down with a thud. It sloshed over the rim and burned her thumb. Ignoring it, she said, “The reporter.”

“Yeah. I would tell you to let the sheriff haul him in so you could question him, but I’m not ready for you to break cover yet. So—” he blew out a breath “—I’m going to have one of our agents call him for questioning, and you can drive in to the Bryson City police department and do your thing. A detective will wear an earpiece and relay your questions to Mr. Moore.”

“That sounds good.” She could do that. “What about the footprint outside my window? Anything back from the lab on that?”

“They’ve got the cast of it. Size ten tennis shoe.”

“So now I need to provide you a suspect so you can compare his shoes.”

“Exactly.”

“I’ll get right on that.”

She hung up. So, she wouldn’t be going through files with Dylan today. The stinging disappointment surprised her. Then she chastised herself. Dylan had been transparent last night when he’d commented for the second time on the fact that she’d be a great mom.

It drove home the point.

She and Dylan weren’t meant to be together.

And that hurt.

A lot.

When she was with him, she didn’t want to leave. When she was away from him, he was constantly in the back of her thoughts. Or she was just plain thinking about him.

God? I know I haven’t been very communicative lately.
She paused.
And I’m sorry about that. Dylan’s very committed to You. And I find that I really like that about him. It makes me want to know him more, but the whole mother thing … Well, you know how I feel about that. I’ve already failed once and … I’m just … afraid. There, I said it. So, now what?

She waited, but didn’t get an answer. Had she been expecting one? Maybe. She thought about the Stuarts. The family who’d taken her in and taught her about God. Told her she could be somebody different. Encouraged her to do well in school and get out of that neighborhood.

Mama Ida and Papa Stu. She’d been with them when Ben had stopped coughing. She hated to remember how she’d forgotten about him and enjoyed the company of Mama Ida and Papa Stu, while illness overtook his little body.

They’d be disappointed that she’d let her faith wane and her closeness with God dissipate. A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard. Well, at least that was one thing she did have the power to change.

Shaking her head, pushing her personal thoughts aside for the moment, she dialed Dylan’s number.

At the sound of his voice, her feelings for this man came flooding back. She pushed them away. She’d never allow herself to put a child’s well-being in her hands. Not after she’d followed her mother’s example and ignored the suffering of another child in the next room. The police hadn’t found her mother at fault, but Paige knew differently. Both she and her mother had been guilty of neglect. But she was only eight years old. The reasonable part of her mind knew that she couldn’t be held responsible. But her heart had a hard time accepting it.

When she’d explained to Dylan her plans for the morning had changed, he’d insisted on changing his, too. He’d arranged for a babysitter for Will and met her in front of her house.

“Hop in, I’ll drive.”

Hesitating, she bit her lip. “I don’t know, Dylan, I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

His eyes hardened. “If he was the man at my house the other night, I need to know. Someone is terrorizing my nephew, and I refuse to sit by twiddling my thumbs when I can be proactive.”

Paige saw the determination on his face and figured she might as well just give in gracefully. If he wanted to go, why not?

“We don’t know that this is the person who was at your house.”

“But he could be.”

He waited. Blowing out a sigh of surrender, she climbed in. At least she would have company on the way.

Good company.

Company she didn’t think she’d ever grow tired of.

As he drove, Paige kept an eye on the rearview and side mirrors. Just because they had someone in custody didn’t mean they had the
right
someone.

“Do you ever wonder what your mother’s doing now?”

The question jolted her. “What?”

“Your mother. You’re not even curious how she’s doing?”

Paige pursed her lips. “When you’ve been hurt by someone as much as she’s hurt me, at some point you just kind of … write that person off.”

No point in mentioning the phone call this morning.

She was still processing the hurt, trying to push it behind the wall that had her mother’s name on it.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She shrugged. “It is what it is. I don’t let it bother me that much.”
Liar.

“So you know where she is?”

“I do.”

“Oh.”

He drove in silence for about ten minutes. Paige waited, and he didn’t disappoint her. “Where is she?”

“In the same nasty little house I grew up in.” Paige paused. “She has terminal liver cancer and about two more months to live according to the last report I got from the doctor who agreed to talk to me. For what it’s worth, I offered to let her come live with me, and she turned me down. End of story.”

“Please. Let’s just change the subject, okay?” Her mother’s rejection still stung. It shouldn’t, but it did.

“Sure.”

“Did you get an alarm system put in?” she asked.

“They’re working on it even as we speak.”

“Good.”

They rode in silence for the rest of the ride.

Paige could feel Dylan’s tension and felt her own stress rise as a result.

Located on Main Street, the two-story, Bryson City Police Department building looked new.

Wheeling into the parking lot, Dylan found a spot near the door, and they climbed out. Once inside the building, she gave her name, flashed her badge and, within minutes, she and Dylan were greeted by Chief Zachary Bennett.

“He came down voluntarily when we told him we had a few questions for him,” the chief said.

Paige chewed her bottom lip as she considered how to go about this. “I want to do this without blowing my cover, if at all possible. My boss said he’d arranged for me to wear an earpiece and feed questions about what to ask Mr. Moore.”

“He did.” The chief motioned for one of his officers and put in the request. The officer left to do his bidding, and Chief Bennett showed Paige and Dylan into an observation room.

Paige made herself comfortable in one of the padded chairs. Dylan followed her lead and lowered himself into the one next to hers. Through the two-way mirror, she could see Simon Moore seated at the lone table in the interrogation room. His right leg jiggled under the table, and he chewed a nail on his left hand.

The chief spoke. “Detective Means is getting fitted with the earpiece now. He’ll be questioning Mr. Moore.”

“Did you get a search warrant for his place?”

“Sure did. I’ve got officers there now. If they find anything worth noting, one of them will either call or bring it by. He lives about ten minutes from here.”

“We’re specifically looking for a shoe to match up with a cast we got outside a window.”

“Yeah, that’s what your boss said.” The chief stood to the side. “We didn’t have time to run a test, so ask him to show you he can hear you when he gets in there.”

Paige nodded and sat back. She was ready.

A short wait later, the door opened and Detective Means walked in, looking relaxed. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was ready for a picnic in the park.

Paige tensed and spoke into the small microphone. “Rub your nose if you can hear me.”

Detective Means scratched the edge of his nose as though it itched.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Dylan watching her. His expression remained unreadable, thoughtful. She wanted to know what he was thinking. Did he regret coming with her?

She couldn’t worry about that now.

But she did wonder.

Dylan was thinking he’d gotten himself involved with a woman who confused him on just about all levels. On the one hand, he’d seen her vulnerable and hurt. And in hindsight, he realized she’d just been doing her job when she pushed through her pain to question him about his sister and the fire when all she probably wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep.