Little Girl Found

“Can we talk?”

Her brow furrowed with concern, but she didn’t press him. She picked Megan up, then held the door open for him. The second he walked inside, he knew he’d done the right thing. The kid would feel safe here. Hell, he felt safe here. And he hadn’t felt safe in about a hundred years.

Chapter Two

Hailey Bishop closed the door and turned to her guest. She recognized him, although she didn’t remember his name. John or Jack or something like that. She also knew he was a police officer, although she’d never seen him in a uniform.

He stood in the middle of her living room, leaning on his cane, favoring his left leg. She wondered if he’d been hurt on the job, but then Megan tightened her grip on her throat and Hailey forgot about the policeman’s problems. “What happened?” she asked him as she rubbed Megan’s back to calm her down.

He shook his head, and she realized he didn’t want to speak in front of the child. She didn’t like this. Her stomach clenched and the hairs on the back of her neck bristled. Even so, she smiled as she walked near the television and lowered Megan to the floor. Gently she took the girl’s quilt out of her hand and spread it on the carpet. “What kind of juice do you want?”

Megan thought a moment. “Apple.”

“Apple it is.” Hailey turned on the television, changing the channel until she found cartoons. Then she went to the kitchen and got one of the juice boxes she kept on hand. By the time she got back, the little girl was sitting cross-legged, her doll tucked safely into her lap. When Hailey handed her the juice, the girl smiled, then went back to watching Tom and Jerry.

Hailey turned to the policeman. He really didn’t look good. Aside from his obvious discomfort, his cheeks seemed hollow and his skin pale. He hadn’t shaved for a while and his dark stubble made him look gruff and hard. But his eyes told her something different. His gaze was on Megan, and the way he looked at her said worlds about the man. The little one was in some kind of trouble and he knew it. More than that, he was concerned about her.

As she signaled him to join her in the kitchen, she looked beyond the stubble and the brooding eyes. She’d thought he was handsome the first time she’d seen him, and that hadn’t changed. She wanted to know what had happened to him, whether someone was taking care of him. But that was for later.

He made it to her dining room and sat down heavily in the first chair he came to. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Standing must hurt.

“Coffee?” she asked.

He nodded. “That would be great.”

“How do you like it?”

“Black,” he said, watching her keenly as she went into the kitchen. “I’m Jack McCabe,” he said. “I’ve seen you around.”

“Yes, I recognized you, too. I didn’t know you knew Roy and Megan.”

“I don’t. I mean, I’ve seen him a few times, said hello, but that’s all.”

She poured the coffee into two mugs and brought them to the table. He took his with a grateful but worried smile. “So what happened?” she asked.

“Did you hear the sirens this morning?”

She nodded. “I didn’t realize they were at the complex. I’m so used to hearing them these days.”

“They were here, all right. Roy,” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper, “was killed this morning.”

Hailey almost dropped her mug. She put it down on the table as she fought for breath. “Killed? Are you sure?”

Jack nodded. “I’m sure.”

“How?” she asked too loudly. Moving closer to Jack, she asked again, “How?”

“He was shot.”

“What? Were you there? Was Megan there?”

He shook his head. “Megan was safe. She didn’t see a thing. It wasn’t a random shooting. Whoever killed him did it on purpose.”

“Oh, my God,” Hailey said, more to herself than to Jack. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around this horrific piece of news. Roy, dead? It was too absurd to be true. “How did you get Megan?”

“I didn’t have much choice. Roy came to my door this morning. He shoved her at me, then ran off. He said he had to go to the hospital. That his wife was sick.”

“Wife? He’s not married. His wife died several years ago.”

Jack looked over at Megan, sitting so quietly. Somehow he wasn’t surprised that Roy had lied. “Does she have any other family?”

“I think so. But not here in Houston. There might be an aunt in Florida. What did the police say?”

“Not much. But I’m gonna go to the station this morning and find out all I can.”

“You want me to watch her?”

He nodded. “Until I can get social services out here.”

The thought of Megan being surrounded by strangers, even well-meaning strangers, was unbearable. “No, please,” Hailey said. “Don’t call them. I’ll watch her.”

“That’s fine for today, but at some point…”

“Let’s deal with that later. After Megan has some time to get used to…” She sighed. “Poor little thing.”

“Yeah,” he said. “It stinks.”

“Do you have any of her things? Her clothes?”

“There’s a pillowcase stuffed with her things back at my place. I haven’t looked in it.”

“What do you say we do that now? I want to get her dressed, and then I’ll fix her some breakfast.”

“You don’t have to go to work?”

She shook her head. “I work here, out of my apartment. I design web sites.”

Jack looked at her again, more carefully this time. She was sort of attractive, but that wasn’t what drew him to her. There was a calmness about her, a serenity, that he’d never felt from another person before. No wonder Megan had wanted to come here.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He shook his head. “We’d better go.”

She gave him a questioning look, one that forced him to focus on her eyes. Blue, very blue. And kind. He could see where a man would go for a woman like her.

“I’ll go dress and be right back,” she said. “There’s more coffee if you want it.”

He nodded as she headed for her bedroom. When she was gone, his gaze moved to the girl. She seemed calm. But what did he know?

As he waited for Hailey to return, he tapped his fingers on the tabletop, thinking about this morning. About the Taurus. Maybe it hadn’t been an HPD vehicle. It was dark. He wasn’t exactly at his mental peak. It certainly didn’t make sense. He knew most of the cops, at least from downtown. No one he knew would have done something so blatantly illegal. So if it wasn’t cops, then who? Roy had known someone was after him.

Hailey came back, dressed in worn blue jeans and a pale blue sweater that buttoned down the front. The outfit showed off her curves very nicely. She went straight to Megan. “What do you say we go get dressed?”

Megan looked up. “It’s bath time after Sesame Street.”

“I see,” Hailey said. “Perhaps Mr. McCabe will let us use his bathtub.”

Megan looked at him briefly, then back to Hailey. “I want to go home.”

Hailey picked the girl up. “Gosh, you’re getting so big!” she said. “Pretty soon, you’ll be taller than this whole building!”

Megan giggled.

“We can’t go home, sweet pea,” Hailey said, her voice as soft as a feather pillow. “Not just yet.”

Megan didn’t respond. She simply laid her head on Hailey’s shoulder.

Jack stood up, glad he’d taken that extra pain pill. His hip hurt, but not too badly. As Hailey walked to the door, he headed for the quilt and the doll, still on the floor in front of the television.

“Oh, wait,” she said, guessing what he was about to do. “I’ll get those.”

“I can do it.” A quick flash of anger seared his insides. “Just take care of the kid.”

“Sorry.”

He hadn’t meant to be so gruff with her. But dammit, he wasn’t totally helpless. To show her, he leaned over his cane neatly and came up again with Megan’s things.

“That didn’t hurt?” she asked.

He shrugged. “It’s not so bad.”

She sighed as she turned to the door. “It must be hard to be so macho all the time.”

He grinned. “Later, if you’re nice, I’ll crush a beer can on my forehead for you.”

“I don’t know if my girlish heart could take it.”

He made his way slowly out the door, grateful the woman had a sense of humor. He had the feeling she’d need it.

HAILEY PUT MEGAN DOWN beside Jack’s recliner. The room was so dark it was hard to believe it was daytime. It reminded her of a bear’s cave, albeit one with a large-screen television set as a centerpiece. There wasn’t a picture on the wall or even a plant. Old newspapers were piled up beside the couch, and empty beer bottles, three of them, sat on the small table by his chair. The place needed a good cleaning and a lot more light.

“There’s the pillowcase,” he said, pointing to the end of the couch. “I guess you can take her back to your place, huh?”

She smiled at him, making a decision that second. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to bathe her here.”

Jack looked at her as if she was nuts. “Why?”

“I’d just feel better waiting with her here. Until you get back.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself. The bathtub is pretty clean. There are towels in the cupboard. He turned and walked down the hall to his bedroom.

His apartment was identical to hers, at least architecturally. But where hers was a warm nest, his was a place to hide from the world. She wondered again how he’d been hurt. And how awful it must be for a man as virile as him to be trapped in a broken body.

She noticed a book peeking out from underneath the TV guide, and her curiosity got the better of her. She lifted the guide and saw that it was a paperback edition of The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway. Interesting.

Jack came back a second after she stopped snooping. He’d changed into a plain white business shirt, open at the collar, but he still wore his jeans. He also had on a leather jacket, and with his somehow dangerous face and those deep brown eyes, she felt a shock of physical awareness hit her where it counted.

“Here,” he said. He held out a piece of paper to her. She took it but she didn’t look at it. She was too busy wondering about her reaction to him. He wasn’t her usual type. She liked kind men, calm men. Men who called their mothers on Sunday nights.

“My pager number,” he said. “Just in case.”

All her wayward thoughts vanished in the blink of an eye as she was brought back to the moment by a dose of cold reality. There was a killer loose. A murderer. “You don’t think…”

“Just in case you need me to bring home some milk or something.”

“Right,” she said, not believing him. She took Megan’s hand in hers, while Jack adjusted his jacket, and it was then she caught sight of his gun, neatly holstered against his rib cage. It shook her to realize it was a real gun, capable of killing, meant to kill. She’d never been this close to a gun before.

“Are you going to tell her?” he asked, lowering his voice, even though Megan was right there.

She squeezed Megan’s hand gently. “Yes. Now go on. Find out what you can. We’ll be here when you get back.”

He looked at them one more time, then made his way to the door. She wondered how he was going to drive, but it didn’t seem prudent to bring that up. Instead, she led Megan down the hall to the bathroom, listening for the sound of the door shutting and his key in the lock. She heard both, and she breathed a little easier. Although she didn’t think she would relax completely until this whole thing got straightened out.

Who would want to kill Roy Chandler? He’d always seemed like such a nice man. He paid her generously for baby-sitting. He certainly loved Megan. Perhaps Jack was wrong, and it was just one of those horrible mistakes, a drive-by shooting or something.

It didn’t matter really, not to the little one. Either way, her father was dead. She had no one now. Not even an aunt in Florida. Hailey hadn’t liked lying to Jack, but there was no way she would let social services take this child away.

Megan put her doll on the sink counter, then pulled off her pajama top. That spurred Hailey to start the water running in the tub. She got down on her knees and tested the temperature until she got it right.

She had to admit the bathroom was cleaner than she’d imagined. Except for the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition on the floor, it was very nicely put together. Clean towels, a sparkling sink, and the tub was spick-and-span.

Megan had finished undressing, and now she stood next to Hailey, waiting. Leaning slightly against her. Just touching. But, bless her heart, she appeared quite stoic and ready to get down to business.

Hailey put her in the tub, and for the first few minutes they both concentrated on washing Megan. The soap wasn’t Hailey’s usual brand, but Megan liked the scent. The bath was a quiet affair, which was unsettling. The girl loved taking baths and usually she talked Hailey’s ear off. Not today. She finished quickly, not dawdling to play. She stood up in the tub, her body shiny and innocent, her eyes wide with muted fear. “Are we going to see my daddy now?”

Hailey couldn’t put it off any longer. But, oh, how she wished she didn’t have to shatter this little bunny. She got the big blue towel from the rack, then reached for Megan and lifted her out of the tub. Quickly, before Megan could get a chill, she wrapped the towel around her. Hailey rubbed her legs and arms to make her dry and warm, and then she put her arms around her. “Sweet pea,” she began, making sure her voice was as tender and safe as she could muster, “Daddy…” She swallowed. Took a deep breath. “Daddy had to leave, sweetheart.”

“Where?”

“Daddy went to heaven, Megan. He went to see your mommy.”

Megan didn’t say anything. But Hailey could feel her little body tremble.

“He loves you very much,” she whispered. “And he hated to leave you. If he could have stayed, he would have.”

“Can’t I go, too?”

Hailey closed her eyes and felt the sting of tears. “Not yet, baby.”

Megan’s chin quivered, and she began to cry, her tears too big for such a little girl. Sobs that tore Hailey’s heart in two, made her want to scream at the God who could do this to such a dear child.

Megan buried her head in Hailey’s shoulder, and they sat like that for a long time. The mournful sounds of too much pain echoing off the tiled walls, filling the world with sadness. Hailey rocked her back and forth, letting her be, letting her weep until her tears stopped of their own accord. Until she sighed with resignation. It wasn’t over. Megan’s grief would go on for a lifetime, but for now, she’d worn herself out, which was a blessing.

Megan sniffed, then sat up so she was looking into Hailey’s eyes. “Can I stay with you?” she asked, her voice so tiny it almost wasn’t there.

Hailey nodded. “Of course, honey. Don’t worry. I won’t let you go.”

JACK GOT OUT OF HIS TRUCK and leaned against the door for a while. It was cold for Houston. Cold but still humid, which made the frigid air seep right into his bones. Right into his wound.

Driving hadn’t helped. He probably shouldn’t have done it, but then he probably shouldn’t have become a cop in the first place. But now that he was, he had a job to do. At least, as much of a job as his damn hip would allow. He still didn’t want to say anything about the unmarked police car. Not until he had more facts. Accusing his brethren of murder wasn’t something to do lightly. There had to be another explanation.

He pushed himself off the car and walked through the underground parking lot toward the elevator. The sound of a revving engine echoed off the concrete walls. He thought about what was happening in his apartment as he waited for the elevator to come. It was right, to have Hailey talk to the girl. They knew each other. They cared about each other. He would have been in the way.

The doors opened, and he walked into the small cab, pressing the button for the first floor. As the elevator rose, he reached for his wallet and pulled out his ID, clipping it to his shirt pocket. It was a move he’d done so many times he rarely even thought about it. He did now. This ID was more than a way to get upstairs. It was, like his badge, who he was. Homicide detective. Twelve-year veteran. One mean son of a bitch. A single bullet had stripped him of his way of life. One goddamn bullet.

The doors opened and he walked into the warm air of the downtown station. Jenny Cole sat behind the desk. When she saw him she smiled, and her eyes went right to the cane.

“Jenny,” he said, walking as quickly and evenly as he could.

“Hi, Jack. How are you?”

“Fine, thanks.” He handed her his gun as he went through the metal detector and then she handed it back.

“We’ve missed you. And worried about you.”

“Thanks, but I’m pretty involved with my new football career. Quarterbacking is hell.”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. They were too filled with pity to let anything else in.

He holstered his weapon and crossed to the central elevator. He didn’t look back at her, although he could feel her gaze.

When he got to the fourth floor, he stepped out, hoping no one was in the hall. He got his wish. It was quiet, and he looked at the big bulletproof glass doors that separated the two worlds. Inside, a universe of cops, neat, organized, with their own code of living and of dying. Outside, the other universe, most of it messy and complicated. He didn’t belong on this side. And he didn’t belong on the other.

He took a step forward, horribly aware of the pain and the feel of the cane in his hand, and of dragging his bad leg and leaning his weight on the other. He felt like a marionette with cut strings. Awkward. Useless.

But at least he could still use a computer. He could use his brain. Maybe it would be enough.

Although he doubted it.

Chapter Three

Hailey sat on the edge of the couch, her gaze fixed on the sleeping child.

It was nearly noon, and Megan had been asleep for almost two hours. The poor kid had exhausted herself. At least she’d gotten some comfort from her quilt and her doll. The three of them were on the floor, just like naptime at Hailey’s. Last Christmas she’d bought Megan a brand-new doll, a beautiful one with a full head of hair and not a single felt-pen mark on her body. But Megan was a loyal little thing. She’d thanked Hailey, then gone right back to lugging Tottie around.

Hailey tried to remember if she’d had a favorite doll. One she couldn’t be parted from. But it wasn’t the day for her own memories.

She forced herself to look up, to see where she was. Jack’s television, dark and silent, reminded her of the statues on Easter Island. The icon of worship for people who didn’t get out much. Which didn’t fit into the admittedly sketchy picture she had of Jack.

Grace had told her he was single. And that an assortment of women dropped by at all hours. Grace also said she’d seen him in his skivvies once, by accident, and that pound for pound he was the best-looking man she’d seen since Elvis.

But then, Grace also believed aliens took all the good parking spots at Luby’s.

Hailey had wondered how Grace had seen him in his underwear. The woman was sixty if she was a day, and she chain-smoked unfiltered Camels, which had stained her teeth an interesting shade of brown.

When had they had that discussion? Oh, yes. It was last Easter. When Hailey had brought her downstairs neighbor a cooked ham. Last Easter, Jack had been fine. It was only two months ago that Hailey had seen him in the laundry room. Seen him using the cane. She’d been with Megan that day. And she remembered thinking then that despite Jack’s brusque manners, he was a devilishly handsome rogue.

She smiled. Rogue. She’d been reading too many historical romances.

Even if he didn’t fit the rogue category, there was something about him…She got up, filled with nervous energy. She went to his kitchen and saw a few dirty plates in the sink, a few clean ones in the plastic drainer on the counter. Discarded coffee filters and beer cans were all she could make out in his trash. She opened his refrigerator and sighed. Not much there. Mustard. Beer. A loaf of bread and a big salami. He’d never heal with this kind of diet.

Wondering how he’d managed so far, she went to the sink and turned on the water. There were no gloves, but there was detergent and a sponge. Having something to do helped. It made her calmer. It gave her time to strategize. When Jack came home, he was going to want to call social services, and there was no question in her mind that she wasn’t going to let him. The idea of Megan going to a stranger after all she’d been through made her sick to her stomach. No matter what, Megan was going to stay.

After finishing the dishes, she cleaned the counters and the coffeemaker. Picked up the old newspapers and tied them with some cord she found under the sink. Then she dusted a bit and, with nothing left to do, headed down the hall to Jack’s bedroom.

His decor was consistent, if nothing else. Only the bare necessities. A bed, no headboard. A dresser. A chair. Not even a chair. She shook her head, not surprised that the bed was unmade. Given his condition, she had to wonder when he’d last changed the sheets. It would be a difficult task with a cane.

Was it too personal a thing to do? She didn’t know the man at all, and now she wanted to change his sheets? Her own need for a purpose silenced her doubts, and she went to the hall closet to get fresh ones.

He only had two other sets. Both beige. Utilitarian. Fine for a man whose life was filled with work and friends, but awful for a man who was virtually house-bound.

She checked on Megan, who was still sound asleep and clutching her doll, and then headed back to his room. It took no time at all to strip the bed. When it was bare, she hurried, because the room felt too much like a prison cell.

Once she was done, she dusted in there, too, wishing she could vacuum the place. It wasn’t as if she was a neat freak or anything, but Jack had done a good deed for Megan. He’d brought Megan to her. It was only right that Hailey do something nice for him in return.

Then she remembered the pillowcase. She’d barely looked in it when she’d pulled out Megan’s fresh clothes. Hailey hurried back down the hall, and just as she took hold of the pillowcase, she heard his key in the lock.

She felt her stomach tighten as she turned. Jack walked in slowly. He looked exhausted. His gaze went to Megan, asleep on her quilt on the floor, and Hailey saw his shoulders relax. Then he spotted her, standing by the couch. “I haven’t gone through it yet,” she said, holding out the pillowcase. “I just got her clothes out after her bath.”

He nodded, locked the dead bolt, then took off his jacket. After leaning slightly against the door, he rolled up his sleeves past his elbows. His arms were lightly dusted with dark hair. She could clearly see the road map of tendons and muscle on his forearms. Very masculine. He winced as he pushed off toward the kitchen, and she fought the urge to offer to help him. He wasn’t one of the children she tended, and besides, she remembered his angry reaction the first time. Still, it hurt, somehow, to watch him move across the room, leaning so heavily on his cane.

“What’s this?” he asked when he turned the kitchen light on.

“I hope you don’t mind. I couldn’t sit still.”

He grunted a noncommittal response, then poured himself a glass of water. She approached him as he drank, fascinated by his Adam’s apple, at the size of his thirst. When he finished, he wiped his arm across his mouth, his gaze on hers as if he’d known she’d been watching him. “Did you tell her?” he asked, keeping his deep voice low.

She nodded. “She was very brave. But it hasn’t really hit her yet. It’s going to take a long while for her to adjust to this. To accept that her father isn’t coming back.”

Jack moved to the kitchen table and sat heavily in a chair. His cane clattered loudly to the linoleum floor, but he didn’t even give it a glance. “Not only is he not coming back,” he said, “he wasn’t really here.”