Starting Point (17 page)

Looking at the young boy fighting to stay awake, Kira said, “I’ll just grab you some blankets and a pillow.”

Kira and I had decided earlier that if or when Claude and Ruby stayed, they’d crash on the sofa. We had a spare room, but we didn’t want to give these kids any sense of permanence—safety, yes. Permanence, no.

It was, quite simply, a line we didn’t want to cross.

But I knew Ruby wouldn’t sleep a wink where he was.

“How about you two take the spare room,” I said, more of a statement than a question. I could feel Kira’s eyes on me, but I didn’t look at him. I spoke to Ruby, “You can take Claude, and shut the door, give yourself some privacy.”

Ruby eyed me cautiously for a second, and finally gave me a nod. “Thanks.”

“You’ll have to share a bed,” I told him. Figuring they’d slept on cardboard boxes and in dumpsters, I didn’t think he’d mind. I smiled at him. “Hope Claude doesn’t snore too much.”

Ruby almost smiled.

“I’ll go pull back the covers,” I said, still not looking at Kira. “You right to carry Claude?” I asked him.

“Yeah, I got her,” Ruby replied.

I went into the spare room, flipped on the lights and pulled back the duvet and blankets. I switched on the bedside lamp and stood aside in the doorway while Ruby carried his still-sleeping sister into the room.

I waited until he’d laid Claude in the bed—she stirred a little, but Ruby whispered something and she settled—and I flipped off the light. Ruby’s eyes shot to mine, but then he realised the room was still lit by the much softer bedside lamp. I gave the poor kid a smile. “I’ll shut the door. Try and get some sleep. If you need anything, just yell,” I said.

He nodded so I slowly closed the door.

Kira was at the end of the hallway, leaning against the door. His arms were folded and one eyebrow was raised in question. “Matt…I thought we agreed—”

I walked up to him, put my hand on his arm and spoke quietly so Ruby wouldn’t hear. “Did you see how scared he was? Kira, babe, he would have sat up, wide awake, all night while Claude slept, just to make sure she was safe.”

“I saw,” he admitted.

“At least in the spare room, with the door shut, he’ll feel safer and who knows? He might actually get a decent night’s sleep.” I ran my hand up his arm and pressed my palm against his chest. “I know we agreed about them sleeping on the sofa, and I’m sorry. I should have asked your opinion before I offered it to Ruby. I’ll make some phone calls tomorrow to some housing for at risk kids, and even go around and visit some if I can. I’ll try and find them somewhere they’ll feel safe, and somewhere that promises not to split them up.”

“Matt, it’s okay,” he said, a soft smile playing at his lips.

“Are you sure?”

He leaned in and kissed me sweetly. “Yeah.”

I slid my arms around his back. I sighed contentedly, almost melting into him. “I’m so lucky to have you,” I mumbled into his chest. “You’re really rather incredible, you know that?”

Kira chuckled. “Yeah, I think someone told me that once.”

I pulled back to look at him. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

He pressed his lips to mine, kissing me again, and cradled my face in his hands. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, too,” he said, staring into my eyes. “I love you, Matt.”

I smiled at him. “Love you, too.” I ran my hands up his back. “Maybe I should just show you how much I adore you.”

Kira smiled, but then he glanced at the spare bedroom door and shook his head. “Not with two kids in the next room.”

I turned to look at the offending door, then looked back at Kira. “Oh, man. Really?”

“Yes, really,” he said. “What if they…
hear us
? It’s not like you’re very quiet.”

I scoffed, and pulled his chin between my thumb and finger, kissing him quickly. “Because you make me loud.”

“Me?”

I nodded. “The noises I make are your fault.”

Kira grinned beautifully and chuckled. “They are some very good noises. Normally, I’d say the louder the better.”

I pulled our hips together. “Maybe you should put something in my mouth, down my throat, so I’m not loud.”

He shook his head. “Yes, well, still not doing anything when there are kids in the next room. That thought kinda creeps me out.”

I kissed him with smiling lips. “What about on the sofa?” I asked. “That way, they’re not in the next room.”

“No, but they could walk out while we’re… That’s worse!”

I laughed at him. “I’m definitely looking into alternative accommodation for them tomorrow.”

Kira chuckled, trying not to laugh out loud. He took my hand and led me to our room. We got ready for bed, and much to my dismay, Kira got into bed with pyjama bottoms on. He told me I should do the same, and I was still pouting when my cell phone rang.

I reached over and grabbed my phone from my bedside table, then read the caller ID. It was Mitch.

It was a quarter-past eleven at night, so my initial thought was that something was wrong. “Hey,” I answered the call. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, man, fine here. How are you?” my old partner replied.

I slid my thumb across the speaker button and put my phone between us on the bed. It was easier for me to hear that way without holding the phone to my only functioning ear. “You’re on speaker,” I told Mitch. “Kira’s here with me.”

“Didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

“Uh, no,” I said. “Sadly, you’re not interrupting anything.”

Kira smacked my arm. “Hi, Mitch,” he said, leaning into the phone.

“Hey, Frankie,” Mitch replied, using the name for Kira all our police friends still used for him. “Keeping him in line?”

“Trying.”

“Berkman got you working late?” I asked.

“No, someone wanted me to find out some background information on two kids, remember?”

“Oh, give us a sec,” I said, keeping my voice down. I got off the bed and, walking to the door, I motioned for Kira to come with me. When we were in the kitchen, away from hearing-ears, I put the phone on the table between us. “Sorry about that. Did you have any luck?”

Kira was looking at me, clearly wondering what was going on. So I quickly explained, “I asked him to find out what he could on Claude and Ruby.” Then, I spoke back into the phone, “Sorry, Mitch. What did you find?”

“Well, it’s not a very happy story,” he started. “It took a few phone calls. Child services, department of education, housing and welfare.”

I looked at Kira and, seeing concern on his face, I reached out and took his hand. I gave him a nod, letting him know I’d expected this much. I looked back to the phone. “And?”

Mitch exhaled into the phone. “Rueben and Claudia Vaughn. Father, Lamar Vaughn. Mother, Candice Vaughn. Lived in Mid-City—not overly wealthy, but they were doing okay. Father was a construction site supervisor, mom worked part-time in retail, both kids were enrolled at Marvin Elementary, good attendance record.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“The GFC,” Mitch answered. “Lamar Vaughn was retrenched in mass cuts across the construction industry late in 2009, Candice Vaughn lost her job not long after. Lamar held a few different jobs over the next two years, but never for long. Bank foreclosed on them two years ago. The school reported no fixed address after that, unofficially listed as living in their car.

“We kind of lose track of them for a little while,” he went on to say. “Kids stopped going to school and no one had no way of contacting them, but then Candice applied for welfare, citing some bogus address. Apparently Lamar couldn’t handle it, and skipped out on them. Left the three of them to fend for themselves. They spent some time in a women’s shelter, but after a spate of attacks from other residents, they left. Matt, from what we can tell, Candice ended up hooking. Probably for money to feed her kids.”

He stopped talking, letting us absorb this information. I pressed my fingers into my eyes. “What ever happened to her?”

“She was found dead a year and a half ago. It was a drug overdose, accidental or not, no one knows.”

“And Lamar?”

“Totally off grid. Disappeared. No social security registrations for employment, no bank accounts touched. Just gone.” Which meant, in cop terms, it was highly likely he was dead. Given the circumstances, one could presume suicide.

Kira sighed, and I squeezed his hand. “Any other relatives?”

“Nope. Not that I could find, anyway,” Mitch said. “Rueben and Claudia were registered at a Saint Augustine shelter for a few weeks, but then they tried to organise foster care and maybe having to split them up, and they weren’t seen again.”

This time I sighed, and my head fell back. “Fucking hell.”

“Matt, are these the two kids at your club I met the other day?”

“Yeah, it’s them. Ruby and Claude.”

“Are they okay?”

“Mitch,” I said, “those two kids are asleep in our spare room right now.”

There was only silence for a while. “Shit, Matt,” he replied eventually. “The eldest, Rueben, he’s the one those skinheads were talking to? The one you were concerned about?”

I nodded, though he couldn’t see. “Yeah.”

“Jesus, Matt. Be careful.”

“I’m not involved in this, in any way,” I told him. “That Darius McInnes and Tyler James are not known to me. They don’t come into the gym, and I certainly don’t go seeking them out.”

“Matt, you have one of their runners in your house!”

He’d just confirmed what I’d assumed all along. “I have two kids from the gym, Mitch,
two homeless kids
asleep in my house. What are we supposed to do? Let ’em sleep in a dumpster?”

“Ugh,” Mitch almost growled into the phone. It was his frustration growl. I knew it well. “You’re gonna draw unnecessary attention to yourself, Matt.”

“Maybe if those two drug guys see people looking out for these kids, they’ll leave ’em alone. They won’t be such easy targets,” Kira said. “If they know someone’s looking out for them.”

“They don’t care, Frankie,” Mitch said quietly. “Those kids are disposable to them, nothing else.”

“I’m not drawing any attention, to them or to us,” I said.

“Look,” he said, “we’re working on them, Matt. But you know there’s a right and a wrong time. We can’t rush this without the right evidence, Matt, or they’ll walk. You know that.”

I sighed. “Of course I know that.”

“I’ll try pushing Berkman,” he said. “Not that
that
will get me anywhere. It used to work for you, of course…”

I laughed. “Because he liked me.” Then I was serious. “Mitch, I’m not asking you to do anything that will jeopardize your case. I would never do that,” I told him. “I’ll just keep these kids off the street the best I can.”

“Until when?”

“Until you catch all the bad guys.”

Mitch snorted into the phone. “There’s always more bad guys.”

“That’s what makes us good guys so special.”

Mitch was quiet for a long moment. “Just be careful, Matt.”

“I will,” I told him. “And thanks.”

“No problem,” he answered.

“Give your gorgeous wife a kiss from me,” I added.

“I will.”

“Oh,” Kira said. “Tell Anna I’ll call her about lunch on Friday.”

“No worries. See you guys later.”

Mitch disconnected the call. Kira and I sat at our kitchen table and for the longest time, we never spoke. The jokes about finding Claude and Ruby accommodation because we wanted to have sex, were long forgotten. He threaded his fingers with mine. “Do you think they know?” he asked.

“Know what?”

“That their mom is dead.”

I rubbed my thumb over his hand. “I don’t know.”

“I mean, Claude just said no one wanted them, like she thinks her parents just walked away from them.”

“Babe,” I said. “I don’t know. Maybe Ruby knows more than Claude, but he’s about ready to bolt as it is, I don’t want to push by asking questions.”

“True,” Kira said sadly. “It’s just horrible, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“The whole thing.”

Keeping hold of his hand, I stood up. “Bed time,” I said, leading us back to our room.

“I’m not showered—”

“I don’t care,” I interrupted. “I just want to get into bed with you.”

Wearing just his pyjama bottoms, Kira climbed into bed. I stripped down to my underwear and joined him.

I slid over to him, wrapped my arms around him, and Kira held me back just as tight.

“Matt,” he murmured above my left ear. “I can’t even imagine what those kids have been through, being so alone like that.”

I could. All too well.

And it was that thought that kept me awake most of the night.

Chapter Eleven

“Keep stirring it, squirt,” I told Claude. She had the whisk in the pancake batter. “We need all those lumps out. No one likes clumps of flour in their pancakes.”

“My arm’s tired,” she complained.

“Here.” I handed her the spatula. “Be careful not to touch the pan with your hand. It’s hot.”

“Well, derr,” she said. “That’s because it’s on a hotplate.”

“Don’t
well derr
me,” I said, whisking the batter quickly. “I was just sayin’.”

“Why don’t you have a pancake waffle maker machine?”

I looked down at the little girl, who was wielding the spatula at the frypan. “Because we don’t eat pancakes. This is a special occasion.”

“Is it special because me and Ruby’s here?”

I nudged her with my hip. “Well, derr.”

Claude put her free hand on her hip and looked up at me. “Don’t
well derr
me,” she repeated my words back to me, then looked over to Kira and Ruby, who were sitting at the table watching us, and rolled her eyes.

Kira had cut up fruit to have with our pancakes, Ruby had set the table—after being instructed to by his sister—and it had been a relatively pleasant morning. We’d been up early, Kira had gone for a run, but I’d stayed at home so Ruby and Claude didn’t think we’d left them. I’d tidied up and done some laundry while I waited for the two sleepyheads to get up.

It was obviously the first time in a long time they’d slept in a bed, because even in a strange house, they’d slept like logs.

So it was a late breakfast for us, but we didn’t mind. Kira didn’t have to be at work until early afternoon, I had no urgent appointments, and Ruby was scheduled with Arizona after lunch, so we were in no rush.