Forever Hers (17 page)

He had been distracted. Deliberately. “You sneaky…you distracted me.”

“Not my fault you are easily entertained. Check and mate.” She jumped up and danced. “I won…I won…I won.”

She was the worst winner ever, yet he found himself laughing at her antics. “Now I know where Raelynn gets her attitude from. Next round.”

“Oh no, you don’t,” she said, sitting down. “I want answers.”

The gleam in her eyes said she was up to something he wouldn’t like. He sipped his drink. “Okay, shoot.”

“When and why did your mother leave your family?”

He stiffened. Memories sneaked in, blindsiding him. He rubbed his eyes and pushed them aside.

“Eddie?”

“That’s two questions,” he hedged.

“Okay, I’ll rephrase. Tell me about your mother?”

Eddie grimaced. “My mother lives in New York.”

Amy waited for more. He didn’t speak. “And?”

“I was fourteen when she left.”

The bleakness in his voice said he hadn’t forgotten the incident. Amy wanted to reach out and touch him. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Motherhood didn’t fit in her schedule. You know, book signing tours and conferences. She’s now a very successful author.”

How selfish of her. On the other hand, her parents often left her with nannies to attend conferences. She’d thought they went on vacations without her. Unlike Eddie’s mother, they’d come back and get immersed in their work. She wasn’t sure what was worse, not having a parent around, or having them and being ignored.

“How did you father take it?”

“I’m not sure. We don’t discuss her.” Eddie leaned back and crossed his arms. “He never remarried, so maybe he still loves her. Who knows?”

“Do you see her often?”

“Not since high school when she stopped by my school. I made it clear then I didn’t want a relationship with her.”

Amy blinked. “You haven’t forgiven her?”

He shrugged. “She didn’t ask for my forgiveness, just tried to justify her actions.”

Would she forgive her parents for not believing in her when she told them about Nolan? She didn’t know. She was an only child and Raelynn was their only grandchild, so she’d have to do a lot of soul searching. The last three months, she’d wanted to call them so many times, but stopped out of fear that the phone call could reveal her whereabouts.

“Are you an only child?” Amy asked.

“I have a baby sister, Lori. She was five when our mother left.”

“Wow. That’s Raelynn age.” No wonder he’d reacted the way he did when he’d learned she was a writer. No wonder he refused to forgive his mother. That was selfish, cold and cruel.

He picked up his bottle and chugged then gave her a speculative look. “What would you do if your publisher asked you to do a tour?”

“They already did and I said no. Raelynn needs me.”

“What if she were older? Would you take her with you?”

Amy knew what he was thinking. He’d been abandoned when he was a teenager, old enough to accompany his mother. “I’d hate to take her out of school, so the answer would still be no. Fame isn’t everything. If I had to, I’d schedule short summer tours when she can come with me.”

Eddie drained his drink then rested his elbow on one bent knee and leaned against the chair. “How many questions was that? Six?”

“No way. That was one. The little ones were to clarify things. Just like the ones you asked don’t count. One down, four to go.”

He chuckled. “Okay, tigress. Shoot.

“Why a cop?”

“My father is a cop. I’m following in his footsteps.”

He wasn’t the type to follow anyone. “Really? Not to serve and protect, create order out of chaos?”

He chuckled and got up. “Do you want more coffee?”

“Yes, thank you.” She dangled her mug by its handle, but before he could take it, she moved it away. “Admit I’m right. You like order and chose the only profession where you can create it without being labeled anal.”

He laughed and snatched her cup before she could pull it away again. “I’m not anal. And don’t mock order. It makes the world function.”

“You really want to open that can of worms?” she asked. “Because I’ll out-debate you—”

“With the craziest reasoning this side of the Mississippi River,” he retorted.

She grinned. She did like to win and often used whatever argument to prove a point. She watched him even though she shouldn’t, loving the way he filled his jeans. Amy went on her knees for a better view when he bent to throw away the beer bottle and retrieve another from the fridge. She quickly turned around when he looked over his shoulder.

She now knew why he was so regimented. His entire outlook stemmed from a single incident he hadn’t controlled—his mother leaving them.

“Here’s a fun question. Why is an L.A.P.D detective taking a three-week vacation in the middle of summer…alone?”

“Are you asking why I’m not vacationing with a girlfriend?”

She wasn’t, but why not. “Yes, and why now? Isn’t crime at all time high during school break?”

“Not in L.A.” He came back with their drinks and took a side chair. Moving languidly, he leaned back then proceeded to study her with a hooded look. He had lashes like a girl’s except his were natural.

“Okay, fine. Why now?” she pushed.

He hesitated. “Technically, I’m not on vacation.”

He really didn’t want to discuss this, which only piqued her interest. “Meaning?”

“I was suspended.”

“No way. For what? Overzealousness in maintaining order?”

“I punched the D.A. and a senior officer.”

She stopped smiling. “Why would you do that?”

“They were freeing criminals and blaming it on my former partner and mentor. I lost my cool and slugged them.”

She could see him defending someone he cared about. “What did your partner do?”

“Nothing.
They
claimed he tainted evidence because he was on the take. You know, accepted money from local drug dealers. He is a good officer and a great father. I would have known if he were on the take.”

Amy frowned, hearing the conviction in his voice and wondering if he was in denial. “Nolan’s colleagues had believed he was a good officer and a great father too.”

“Gregory Launders is not on a crooked cop,” he snapped. “Next question?”

Okay. Touchy subject. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“I don’t have girlfriends. I have women friends.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “So are you in a relationship with a
woman
?”

“Sort of.”

“Sort of? You are either in one or you are not. I mean, how often do you see her or call her?”

He squirmed. “I see her once a week or every other week, usually on Friday nights, and we don’t call each other unless it’s to cancel our engagement.”

That didn’t sound much like a relationship. “What does she do?”

“She’s a partner at a law firm. Don’t ask me what she does because we usually have other things on our minds when we get together.” He gave her a slow grin.

Amy flushed. She knew she ought to stop the line of questioning, but like a dog with a bone, she kept pushing. “Is she from a large family? Does she have a favorite food or restaurant? What’s the color of her eyes?”

He crossed his arms again. She’d noticed he did that whenever he didn’t like her questions. “I don’t know anything about her family or favorite dish. Her eyes are brown. No, hazel. Does it matter?”

“Of course, it does. You say you’re in a relationship yet you know next to nothing about the woman. That’s not a relationship.”

“What do you call it?”

“Booty call. Friends with benefits. If you were in a relationship, you’d call her in the middle of the day just to hear her voice. Send her flowers because it’s Tuesday. Buy her chocolates because, uh, they remind you of her brown or hazel eyes.”

Silence settled around them. She slanted him a glance and caught him staring at her as though she had grown two heads.

“Are you kidding me? That’s what people do when they are in love. Love is smothering and messy.”

“You don’t believe in love?” she asked.

“No. Love leads to chaos. Men start acting like idiots while women become clingy or manipulative.”

Amy opened her mouth to make a retort and closed it. For some perverse reason, she’d wanted educate him about relationships but now all she felt was sad. She shook her head. “You have cousins who are married. Baron and Kara are blissfully happy.”

“They are newly married.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “So?”

“So, their love could still turn sour. The women will start to nag, the men turn to alcohol or try to recapture their youth by having affairs. Or they’ll be polite to each other and stay in the marriage for the sake of the children. I plan to avoid all that messiness by staying single.”

Talk about cynical. He was a lost cause, damaged, and she knew why. His mother. Amy would hate to end up like him, eaten up with resentment and preconceived notions about love.

“I’m calling my parents tomorrow. They need to know I’m fine.”

She didn’t realize she’d spoken her thoughts until Eddie said, “How often do you speak to them?”

“We haven’t since I left. I couldn’t tell them where I am.” She still wouldn’t. Her parents believed she’d made up stories about Nolan and that she needed psychiatric help, so she wasn’t really ready to let them back into her life.

Eddie put down his beer bottle and leaned forward. “What’s their story anyway? Where were they when Nolan was harassing and stalking you? Or do we need to play another game first before I get my five questions?”

The fun of playing chess had lost its appeal. She didn’t feel like discussing her parents or Nolan either. Instead, she studied Eddie, feeling sorry for him. He was emotionally crippled. Maybe while here, she might convince him to give his mother a call.

“Amy?”

She focused on his face. “Let’s just say I made terrible choices and gave them every reason to think the worst of me.”

“You are their daughter. You don’t turn your back on your family because of a few bad choices.”

“Yet you did on your mother,” she said softly.

Anger flashed in his eyes. “Let’s not talk about my mother anymore. She’s not important.” He leaned forward, his gaze probing. “Let’s talk about you. Is Raelynn’s ‘real father’ a cooked up figment of your imagination or was he an actual person?”

First hurt then anger rolled through her.

***

Eddie watched the play of emotions on Amy’s face, not too pleased with the way he’d worded his question even though it had served its purpose. He had effectively wiped off the pitying expression from her face. He didn’t understand why she should pity him just because she didn’t agree with his philosophy on love. She made him question the past and feel things he didn’t want to deal with. Having her despise him was the perfect barrier to any crazy ideas he might have about her or their association.

“You know what, Fitzgerald? You’re a jerk.”

He liked her fighting spirit. “Just because I don’t agree with your viewpoint on love and relationships—”

“Because you judge without knowing all the facts,” she snapped, glaring at him. “I would never lie to my child about something that important.”
 

His gut told him she spoke the truth. The urge to apologize coursed through him, but he bit back the words. He needed the wall between them.

“So? Is he real?” he pushed.

“Go to hell.” She scrambled off the couch and marched off to where she kept her laptop, picked it up and disappeared in the direction of her bedroom.

Eddie exhaled. Refusing to feel guilty, he removed the coffee mug she’d left behind, grabbed two more beers and headed to his bedroom. He rebooted the laptop and plugged in the thumb drive with the burglary files. Before he could read anything, his cell phone rang.

“I’m outside,” Sally said as soon as he placed the phone to his ear.

Eddie debated whether to get Amy and decided against it. Her presence would only distract him. Besides, it was his job to keep her safe. He turned on the outside light and went to join Sally.

The policewoman was under the tree putting on crime scene gloves, a flashlight under her arm. She handed him the flashlight, pulled out a plastic bag from her pocket and squatted to collect the cigarette filters.

“You think one of the lawn mowers was Nolan?”

“What lawn mowers?” Amy asked from behind him, causing him to whip around.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked.

“The same thing
you
are doing, detective,” she said with exaggerated sweetness. “Hi, Sally. What’s going on?”

Sally smiled. “Detective Fitzgerald told me Nolan was here this evening. Then he found these cigarette filters under your tree. Looks like someone stood here and smoked for a very long time.”