The Mahoney Sisters

The electricity should be off by now and he had Jack’s word that he’d turn it back on tomorrow evening. Reece wasn’t helping out just to be a nice guy. This was also his way of spending time with the girls in their own environment. Something he’d never had the chance to do before. Maybe he could earn their trust. And someone would start talking.

The added bonus was the time he would spend with Denni Mahoney. His throat constricted at the thought. From their first rocky meeting, he’d been attracted to her despite the circumstances. With round eyes the color of melted chocolate, sweet perfume, shiny hair and soft curves, she was the embodiment of beauty and femininity. Alluring enough to warm a man’s blood, yet innocent enough for him to picture her in a white wedding gown carrying a bouquet at the same time.

The memory of her eyes flashing with anger when she defended the girls made him grin. She was spunky to boot. He was determined to find the person responsible for trying to thwart her dream. So far, trying to be the hard-edged cop hadn’t drawn out the saboteur. Maybe it was time to turn on the charm.

Chapter Two

Peeking from behind the burgundy drapes hanging at the living-room window, Denni felt her heart jump at the sight of Reece’s truck pulling into the drive.

In a way, she wanted to ask him, “Hey, what part of ‘no’ don’t you understand, buddy?” But mostly, she wanted to throw her arms around him and thank him for taking matters into his own hands and not accepting no for an answer.

“What’s he doing back here?” Leigh’s voice next to Denni arrested her attention, pulling her from the vision of flying into Reece’s well-muscled arms.

“Looks like he decided to help us clean up whether we like it or not.”

Leigh headed for the door—all bad attitude and body language. “Want me to get rid of him?”

“No, don’t be rude. He’s doing us a favor.” Just why he was doing them a favor, she didn’t know. But she wasn’t opposed to figuring it out.

“I think it’s sort of sweet.” Denni turned at the soft sound of Cate Sheridan’s voice. The girl waddled across the room, her eight-months-pregnant belly leading the way.

“Sweet?” Leigh sniffed. “Those hormones are definitely affecting your brain. The guy’s been on our backs for months accusing us of robbing Denni. Now he’s blaming us for a flood. And you think he’s sweet?”

“Crazy, isn’t it?” Cate grinned and elbowed Denni. “He sure is a hottie, don’t you think?”

Warmth flooded Denni’s cheeks. It was one thing for her to consider Reece a good-looking man in the privacy of her own mind, another for the girls to notice. She rolled her eyes and tried to recover some dignity. “I’m too old to think ‘hottie’ when I see a guy.”

“Yeah, right.” Leigh’s voice held no humor.

Cate nudged Denni again and said in her best Southern drawl, “Ya might be old, honey. But ya ain’t dead.”

Denni couldn’t hold back a laugh.

Obviously seeing nothing funny about the whole situation, Leigh swept over them both with a glare. “Just remember this particular guy is out for my blood, Denni. Don’t let him charm you into suspecting one of us.”

Denni turned to the girl, and her heart softened at the worry darkening Leigh’s black-lined eyes. “Leigh, I know you had nothing to do with any of the things that have happened around here. And it would take a lot more than a great-looking guy with big muscles to make me believe any different.”

“You say that now. But you don’t know guys all that well, Denni. My mom used to run off with every charmer that came along until he’d dump her, then she’d take up with another one. And my mom isn’t a stupid woman. These guys are good talkers. Believe me, they know how to get what they want from a woman. Especially one as nice as you.”

Three sharp raps on the door stopped Denni from pursuing the conversation. Leigh rarely talked about her biological mother. Perhaps she was almost ready to open up. But with Reece standing in the doorway, Leigh’s entire demeanor spoke of belligerence and the polar opposite of cooperation. Denni knew there would be no getting the girl to talk today.

“What do you want, Corrigan?” Leigh demanded.

“It’s all right.” Denni moved forward quickly in an effort to avoid an unpleasant scene. “I understand you’re to thank for getting the electric company to shut off the power for us.”

He gave a modest grin and nodded as he stepped inside. “I overheard Miss Sommers mention your luncheon on Monday.”

“Eavesdropper,” Leigh accused.

“Yes,” Denni said firmly. “And thanks to his eavesdropping, we can get the basement cleaned up and perhaps pull off the luncheon without all ten churches deciding not to sponsor us.”

Muttering words that burned Denni’s ears and never failed to make her stomach churn, Leigh spun around and stomped out of the room.

The detective watched her go, his lips twisting into a sarcastic grin. “She’s going to have to stop throwing herself at me. It’s getting downright embarrassing.”

Cate giggled. “It would definitely be a cold day—”

“Cate, will you please go up and let the other girls know we’ll be starting on the basement soon?”

Denni shook her head. Living with a group of girls who held to no strong faith, and who had pretty much seen and heard it all, definitely presented its challenges. With the exception of Rissa, all of the girls attended services only as part of their requirement for living at Mahoney House. Rissa had found a true commitment to Christ last year.

Working to place children in foster homes for the past ten years, Denni had met caring families who provided loving, nurturing environments. The kids in those homes were the lucky ones. The children she was most concerned about were the others: the leftovers whose foster parents cashed the checks and spent them on their own pleasure, without providing properly for the children they had agreed to take in, the kids who fell through the cracks when they turned eighteen and the government stopped paying for their upkeep, at least as foster children. Many grew to adulthood and ended up in the welfare system, continuing a cycle of poverty and neglect.

Denni knew she couldn’t fix the whole problem, but for five girls she was making a difference. At least she believed she was. Each was either in college or, in the case of Cate, taking online courses. Each had a part-time job as well and a mountain of hope for the future.

If she could pull off the luncheon Monday afternoon, perhaps there would be room for twenty more girls. Two houses, larger than the four-bedroom Victorian home she currently owned, each providing a home for ten, plus a house mother of sorts. Denni would then serve as a paid coordinator for all the houses.

She wanted it so badly she could taste it. Like a craving for milk chocolate or veal parmesan with sauce and gooey mozzarella cheese. It just had to be God’s will.

“So, the girls…”

Detective Corrigan’s voice brought her back to the moment. The proverbial fly in the ointment. This guy’s suspicions could blow everything sky-high. She had to find a way to convince him to point his investigation away from the girls.

Denni watched him as his gaze perused the five eight-by-ten photographs arranged on the mantel above the stone fireplace.

“What about the girls?” Defenses raised, Denni narrowed her gaze and geared up for a fight.

“They all look so innocent. You’d never know from these pictures that one of them could be responsible for the mishaps around here.”

“They look innocent because they are innocent.”

“We’ll see.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so sure one of my girls is responsible for these things, Reece. Again, what would they possibly have to gain?”

He lifted his eyebrow and she felt herself blush. “Detective Corrigan, I mean.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Reece is fine.” He gave her a shiny, white-toothed grin. “And I’m not so sure it’s one of them. Just checking out all of the possibilities. Denni.”

She smiled back, trying to calm her racing pulse. “First-name basis, eh? Doesn’t that seem a little friendly considering our positions? I shouldn’t have initiated it.”

“Maybe I like friendly.” His eyes captured hers and held. Denni couldn’t breathe. With every fiber of her being she wanted to believe that Reece truly found her appealing. But just as quickly, reason struck a dissonant chord and her chest tightened. He hadn’t shown the slightest interest in her over the course of the three-month investigation, so why now? All of a sudden he was softening his stance about the girls. Pretending he wasn’t so sure it was one of them when he’d never even considered anyone else before today.

She folded her arms. “All right, Corrigan. Just what are you trying to pull here?”

Reece couldn’t help but grin at Denni, face twisted into a fierce scowl and her feet planted on the floor as though she were digging in for the fight of her life.

“I’m not trying to pull anything. Can’t a guy think you’re cute and want to get to know you better?” He gave her another smile and watched her closely, looking for a crack in her armor.

She sniffed. “Oh, sure. You think I’m a real cutie, don’t you?” She shoved her hands onto her nicely rounded hips. “I’m exactly the same as I have been since you started slithering around here and you never looked twice before. As a matter of fact, I’ve recently put on about ten stress pounds. Real attractive, huh?”

Actually, it was. It gave her a softer, curvier look that kept him fighting to keep his eyes focused above her neck. This time he lost the battle and gave her a once-over. Three months of weekly or more visits had taken its toll on his reserve. Denni Mahoney was definitely under his skin.

She frowned and sent him a dismissive wave before he could voice his opinion. “It doesn’t matter. I know what you’re up to. Trying to get in on my good graces so that you have better access to the girls. Well, just forget it. And you know what? You can just leave.” She pointed to the door.

Okay, so maybe he should have eased into the new strategy. Although, he did still have an ace in the hole. “I’m not going anywhere just yet.”

“You are if I say so.”

“I came here to pump out your basement, and I don’t plan to leave until I do it.”

“Because I’m so attractive you mean? You just can’t help but be my knight in shining armor?”

Before he could answer, two of Denni’s girls entered the room. Searching his memory, he drummed up their names. The tall one he knew was Shelley Bartlett, a brunette with wire-framed glasses and a minor slump in her shoulders that he imagined was due to her height. She stared at him then moved on, her expression softening as her gaze rested on Denni.

“Hey, Denni.” Rissa Kelley practically bounced into the room. Plump and rosy-cheeked, she had a quick smile and a touch of a Southern drawl that was obviously put-on since he knew she’d lived her entire life in central Missouri. “Cate said we’re ready to start cleaning up the basement.”

“Just about.” Denni looked past the girls toward the door. “Didn’t Cate come back with you?”

“She started feeling a little dizzy,” Leigh said, entering the room like a black cloud. Reece tensed. Was she going to explode into a vicious downpour? “I told her to stay in bed. She shouldn’t be doing this kind of work, anyway.”

Denni nodded. “Agreed. I’ll check on her in a little while.” She turned to Reece. “Are you ready to get started?”

“Isn’t there one more of you?” Reece asked, determined not to be completely left out.

Leigh rolled her eyes. “How observant, Detective.”

Oh, boy, would he like to slap the cuffs on that one and toss her into a cell. He’d lay odds she was behind this whole thing. Only, Denni had brought up a good point earlier. What was her motive? But he dismissed the thought. Not everyone needed a motive to try to harm the very people doing their best to help. Jonathon had been proof of that, hadn’t he?

No one had seen the trouble beneath Jonathon’s wall of pretense until the damage was done. And this Leigh Sommers had all the earmarks of making another Jonathon—a chip on her shoulder the size of Mount Rushmore, the black leather jacket, and an unconventional style that shouted rebellion. Oh, yeah. Leigh was trouble. Big trouble with a sweet smile beneath that street-smart exterior. She had the sort of smile that made a person want to give her the benefit of the doubt, encourage her to make good grades and earn her degree so she could rise above her upbringing.

But he knew better, and he would not be fooled again. “Forget it, Corrigan. I’m not interested in a bald, aging cop.” Leigh’s accusing tone shocked him to the present. He caught her glare and threw it right back.

“Believe me, trouble-making, body-pierced teens aren’t exactly my type.”

A deep blush appeared instantly on her cheeks. “I’m twenty-one,” she muttered without making eye contact.

Feeling sufficiently back in control, Reece turned to Denni. “I asked about the other girl.”

Denni brushed past him, headed toward the basement door. “Fran’s showering. She’s been out looking for work all day.”

“I thought all the girls were already working.”

“Fran is perpetually between jobs.” Leigh rolled her eyes.

“Leigh!” Shelley glared at the other girl as if to say, “Don’t diss one of our own in front of the C-O-P.”

Reece gave her a lopsided grin. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I won’t automatically shoot her to the top of my suspect list just because she’s jobless. It happens.”

But he made a mental note. Someone without a steady income, “perpetually between jobs” rather, might just need to rip off her own benefactress for a little extra cash. Interesting new twist. Maybe he’d been concentrating on Leigh a little too much.

“You talking about me?” Fran entered the room, her face devoid of makeup. Wearing a blue T-shirt and ripped Levi’s, she looked like a normal college student. But then looks were deceiving.

“Well, Detective, if you seriously want to help us, then I suggest we get started pumping out the water.” Skepticism sparked in Denni’s eyes as though she knew full well what the news of Fran’s employment status had done to his list of suspects.

He winked at her and she blushed.

Inwardly he acknowledged that blush for what it was. She might not be a pushover for a compliment, but she was a woman. And it was becoming more evident that she was just as attracted to him as he was to her. He didn’t like the thought of using her feelings against her. But after months of a cold investigation, it might just be time to mix things up.

Chapter Three

With a gasp, Denni snatched up her soggy scrapbook from the drying floor. Her heart twisted inside her chest and she captured her bottom lip between her teeth.

How could she have been stupid enough to leave her cherished baby book downstairs? One rule of the house was to put things back where they belonged. Too bad she hadn’t followed her own stinking directive. She hadn’t even thought to look for it when she’d first seen the flood.

Her mother had faithfully contributed to the baby book filled with childhood highlights that extended to Denni’s graduation day. She’d presented the book with a red ribbon tied around it the day Denni left for college.

Denni lifted a loose photograph next to where the book had lain. She picked it up. Her favorite picture of Mom and her. Denni had been three years old and mom was swinging her around the room. Mom’s ringing laughter was almost audible through the picture.

Mom had been like that. All fun and surprises and full of hugs and warmth. That first day of adulthood for Denni had been the last time she’d seen her mother alive. Two months later, the most important woman in Denni’s life had collided with a drunk driver and had instantly gone to be with Jesus. And now the photo was ruined, half the ink washed away.

“You planning to eat supper?”

Yanked from the memory of her mother’s face, Denni turned toward the steps, following the sound of Reece’s voice. She squared her shoulders and forced control.

“I came down to see if you’re going to have pizza. Those girls can pack it away like a high-school football team. If you don’t hurry, you’ll be out of luck.”

Discovering her most cherished possession soaked and ruined had effectively robbed Denni of her appetite. She shrugged.

“They can have it. I’ll grab something later if I’m hungry.”

He walked toward her, his boots squishing on the puddled concrete. “Hey, you okay?” He glanced down at the book in her hand and his face sobered. “Special memories?”

Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded.

“Maybe you can salvage some of it.”

Tears sprang to her eyes, a knee-jerk reaction to a sympathetic tone and his warm, gentle touch on her shoulder.

“Let me take a look at it,” he said softly. “You know men are the problem solvers of the world.” He gave her a lopsided grin.

Gratefully, she surrendered her book and the ruined photograph, hoping against hope that he’d give her the solution her muddled brain couldn’t seem to form. She honestly didn’t know if he was putting her on or not with that boyish grin, but if he could figure out a way to save her keepsakes, she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

He carried the book across the room and set it on top of her laundry table. Carefully, he opened the cover. He smiled.

“This is you?”

She nodded.

“Cute.”

Rolling her eyes, she stepped away. “Thanks.” She enjoyed the way he handled her memories with gentle care, his long fingers working open the damaged pages.

“These pages are removable,” he said. “If we take them out and spread them on the table to dry, you should be able to salvage most of the album. They won’t be like they were before, but at least you’ll still have your special memories.”

“It’s sweet of you to try to help.”

“It means a lot to you, huh?”

“Everyone treasures their baby book.”

“Not everyone has one.”

Something in his voice alerted her instincts. She set aside the first baby page then angled her head to meet his gaze. Her breath caught. Raw pain flashed through his eyes, instantly, briefly, and then it was gone. But she’d seen it. Had caught him unawares. She suddenly wanted to discover what made this man tick.

“Want to talk about it?”

He gave a short laugh. “About what? Not having a baby book?”

She shrugged “It obviously bothers you.”

“Honey, you have a lot to learn about men.” That condescending tone caused her to clench her fists and fight to keep from socking him. It made her feel foolish. And she didn’t like that feeling. Especially since he was right. What did she know about men? She’d never had a long-standing boyfriend and had only gone on a few dates. Still, he didn’t have to be so hateful.

With a sniff she turned back to her salvaging efforts. “And you have a lot to learn about being nice to someone who wants to help.”

He drew a ragged breath, but she refused to look again. Let him wallow in his childhood pain. She wouldn’t be his punching bag.

“Hey.” His fingers touched her shoulder, brushing back an errant strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail.

“What?”

His lips curved upward into a smile. “I’m a jerk.”

Searching his slightly self-mocking smile, she rolled her eyes and nudged him with her shoulder. “So tell me something I don’t already know.”

A chuckle rumbled low in his chest. “Forgive me?”

“Sure, Corrigan.”

Amid the whirring of the fans and dehumidifiers, they stood side by side saving Denni’s memories.

Reece couldn’t help but feel that he was invading a very private part of Denni’s life as he dabbed page after page of her baby book and set them aside to continue drying. He felt, rather than saw, her chest rise as she took a shuddering breath. He glanced at the page she held. On it, a photograph of a little girl holding a baby. The handwritten caption beneath read: Denni, Always The Little Mother.

“That was me. Always mothering anyone or anything that would let me.” She pronounced the statement as though not really speaking to him.

“Who’s the baby?”

She jerked her gaze to his. “What? Oh.” A smile tipped the corners of her lips. “My little sister, Keri. She just got married a few weeks ago. Guess who was her maid of honor?”

“I’m sure you looked better than the bride. The bridesmaids always do.”

She scowled and Reece could have kicked himself. “Yeah, well. That’s never been my experience. Believe me. And yes, I’ve been a bridesmaid more than twice—four times if you really want to know—and you know what that means.”

Could he ever say the right thing? He glanced back at the page and sought to get her mind off the whole “three times a bridesmaid never a bride” scenario. “So you always played the little mother, eh?”

A sigh left her and she set the page down on the table. “Yeah. I have two sisters. Keri and an older sister named Raven. I’ll probably be her bridesmaid too if she ever stops yanking around on guys’ hearts long enough to fall in love.”

“Tell me about your sisters.” Instinctively, he knew it was the right move, knew that she needed to get something off her chest, not to mention her need to stop thinking about weddings.

“Raven takes after our mom. Free-spirited, independent, a real heartbreaker.” She lifted a page from the table. “This is her on my graduation day.”

“Pretty.”

“That’s putting it mildly. Raven was and still is the beauty of the family. Keri was the cute-as-a-button baby. I was…well…I was the bossy one.” She gave a short laugh. “Mom always said I was born in the wrong order.”

“Why’s that?”

“You know. The oldest is supposed to be the bossy, controlling one. Raven just wanted to be left alone to do her own thing. Still does.” She cut her glance to him. “Where are you in the family line?”

Expelling a short laugh, Reece spoke before he thought.

“Which one?”

“Which one what?”

A sudden image of family after family flashed across his mind like a slide show, blinking faster and faster until all of the different foster mothers and fathers and foster brothers and sisters jumbled together into one enormous group. Then they vanished and in their place one terrifying image remained. Jonathon. Standing over the only two people Reece had ever felt truly loved him. The teen’s eyes had been more wild than ever that night as he looked at Reece. “I told you, man. I told you I was going to do it.”

Thomas and Lydia Ide. The only two grownups he’d ever loved. He’d called them Mom and Dad in his mind but had never given in and said it aloud. He regretted that now. It would have meant so much to Mom.

His throat constricted. He coughed into his fist, trying to ease the ache.

“It’s getting late. I’ll be back in the morning to help move the furniture outside. It’s supposed to be sunny all day tomorrow. If everyone pitches in, you should be ready for lunch guests on Monday.”

Her soft brown eyes clouded in disappointment. She squared her shoulders and respected his need to change the subject. “I appreciate all you did today, Reece. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

Reece nodded, but turned away. He didn’t want to be drawn in by soft sentiments. There were too many emotions bombarding him at the moment as it was. The objective was to gain her trust, not lose his heart.

Denni heard the door open slowly then click shut. She glanced at the digital readout on the clock next to her bed and sighed—12:18 a.m. Fran again.

Closing her book, she set it aside and pushed back the quilt. She walked down the steps, the soft glow from the kitchen alerting her to Fran’s whereabouts.

The muted sound of the refrigerator shutting made her smile. It reminded her of nights when she and her sisters would come in after dates. There was always an ice-cream powwow around the table.