Handprints

But thank God, he’d finally agreed to get Kitty the help she needed. Now she could let Erin take over, gracefully bow out of the Grangers’ lives at the end of the school year and get on with earning her doctorate.

Jack spent the night fitfully rolling around in his bed, rehashing his conversations with Ms. Walsh and worrying about Kitty. By sunrise he gave up all hope of sleeping and dragged himself down to the kitchen. After putting on the coffee, he walked out to the road for the paper, scanning the front page on his way back to the house.

In the lower-right corner he spotted a teaser for a five-mile run to promote women’s health programs. He’d bet his next conviction that Ms. Walsh would be there. And so would he. Now that he knew Kitty needed help, he wanted to get on with the process. The sooner the better.

After leaving Kitty with his brother Dan, Jack arrived at Manito Park and made his way to the duck pond, the most logical place to put the finish line. Sure enough, there it was, complete with a big digital clock and a race official calling out individual runner’s times as they ran past him.

The jovial atmosphere took him back to his high school and college days when he’d been on the cross-country team. He felt a moment’s envy of the participants who were in good enough shape to run an eight-minute mile. It had been a long time since he’d found the time and energy to go for a run. Too long.

Hands in the front pockets of his khakis, he prepared to wait however long it took for Ms. Walsh to straggle in after running five miles. If she actually could run that far.

“Look, there she is,” shouted a little boy standing in front of Jack. “Way to go, Ms. Walsh!”

“Thirty-nine minutes and thirty-six seconds,” the official called.

Startled, Jack looked at the woman charging toward him and found himself doing a double-take. Her hair was plastered to her head with perspiration and pulled back in the usual ponytail, which was now puffed out in a mass of springy curls. Her face was red and glowing. She wore a white mesh singlet over a black sports bra, a red sweatband across her forehead, purple running shorts that showed off the sexiest pair of legs he’d ever seen and a worn pair of running shoes that proclaimed her to be a dedicated runner.

Man, did she ever look trim and fit. Still, teachers were like nuns and mothers. They weren’t supposed to have sexy legs like that, or slim, toned arms. Ms. Walsh ran past him, and he nearly swallowed his tongue. Teachers, mothers and nuns weren’t supposed to have tight, round little bottoms that made a man’s hands itch, either. He felt like a pervert for even thinking such thoughts about his daughter’s teacher, but he’d have to be dead not to react to seeing her showing that much skin. And it sure didn’t stop him from liking what he saw.

Ms. Walsh looked so…healthy. So full of life. So damn sexy, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Who would’ve guessed that under her long, flowing skirts and soft, colorful blouses was a body like that? Oh, boy, he had to stop staring at her, stop trying to envision what she might look like completely naked. She already disliked him intensely. If she ever realized he thought she was…hot—oh, he didn’t want to go there.

Slowing to a trot, she grabbed a paper cup of water from a volunteer, downed it in one gulp, then took another. She tossed the cups in a trash barrel and ran slowly toward the parking area. Jack called her name and waved one arm.

She glanced around, jogging in place until she spotted him. Ignoring her immediate frown, he hustled to join her. “Nice race,” he said when he reached her.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Granger?” she asked, still jogging in place.

“I want to talk to you about Kitty.”

“We have an appointment on Monday. Right now, I need to cool down.”

With that, she took off, maintaining a steady pace. Cursing under his breath, he went after her. He’d already wasted too much of his time this morning to let her get away from him now. His legs were so much longer than hers, he kept up with her by walking fast.

“Come on,” he said. “You’ve been after me to get Kitty into counseling for a long time. I’m finally ready to do it, and you’re not willing to help?”

“Not today,” she said. “If you want to help Kitty this weekend, take her out somewhere and have some fun. I’ll see you Monday afternoon.”

Veering off to the right, she gave him a jaunty wave and ran back toward the duck pond. Jack stood there watching her, anger and confusion warring inside him. And there was something else he couldn’t deny—a dose of lust. It was a hell of a time for his damn libido to wake up.

“I am not attracted to that woman,” he muttered to himself all the way back across town. When he arrived at his brother’s duplex, he found Dan, who was three years his junior, out in the garage working on his pickup. Dan wore jeans, hiking boots and a Spokane Police Department T-shirt.

He looked up when Jack entered the garage, showing a smudge of grease on his forehead. “That didn’t take long.”

Jack shrugged. “Where’s Kitty?”

Dan tilted his head toward his neighbor’s half of the building. “Marla took the kids to a movie and invited Kitty to go along. They’ll be back soon. Did you find Kitty’s teacher?”

“Yeah,” Jack grumbled, walking around to the front of the truck. “What’re you doing?”

“Changing spark plugs.” Dan shoved a droplight into Jack’s hands and ducked in under the hood. “A little more to the right— Yeah, that’s it. So, what happened at the race?”

“That woman wouldn’t even talk to me.” Jack gave his brother an edited description of his recent encounter with Ms. Walsh. Instead of garnering him the sympathy he expected, the story made his dumb brother burst out laughing.

“Good for her,” Dan said. “It’s about time.”

“About time for what?” Jack demanded.

“For somebody to treat you like you’re normal.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Dan ducked back under the hood. “Everybody’s been walking on eggshells around you since Gina died.”

“No way,” Jack protested.

Dan snorted. “Oh, big time, bro. Everybody felt terrible for you and Kitty. When you were impatient and irritable, we made allowances for you, but it’s past time somebody made you mind your manners.” He straightened away from the pickup and met Jack’s gaze head-on. “That’s all Ms. Walsh did, you know.”

Jack stared at his brother in slack-jawed disbelief. “You’re full of it, Danny. I have excellent manners.”

“Not anymore,” Dan told him. “You act like you’re the only one with a busy schedule and your time is more valuable than anyone else’s.”

“Well, maybe it is,” Jack said. “I know you don’t always think so, but my job happens to be damn important.”

“Yeah, it’s important.” Dan grabbed another spark plug and leaned over the engine again. “But it’s still just a job.”

“So, it really doesn’t matter that much if I let a few killers and sex offenders slip through the system. Who cares if they’re back out on the streets?”

“See? There you go. That’s exactly what I mean. You act like it’s this big mission and only Jack Granger can—”

“Give me a break.”

Dan raised up abruptly, banging his head on the underside of the hood. Cursing, he rubbed the sore spot. “You’ve had enough breaks. If you don’t watch yourself, your ego is going to get completely out of control.”

“Cut it out. I’m not like that.”

Dan pointed his socket wrench at Jack. “If you believe that, you’d better stop and take a long look at yourself, bro.”

“So what are you saying?” Jack tossed his free hand up beside his head. “I shouldn’t do my job?”

“Hell, no. You just have to remember you’re not the only prosecutor in this county, and you can’t be responsible for every conviction. Face it, no matter how many killers you put away, you’ll never be able to get the one you really want.”

Jack stiffened at the veiled reference to their father. “That’s enough.”

“Says who? I admire the hell out of that teacher for not putting up with your bull. You’re real good at making people back off from touchy subjects, but you need to hear the truth about these things, even if you don’t want to. Especially if you don’t want to.”

“And where did you get your Psych degree? The Police Academy?”

Dan grabbed the last spark plug. “I don’t need a Psych degree to figure out any of us. Mark and I are cops because of Dad, and you’re a prosecutor because of Dad’s killer. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is, ever since Gina died you’ve buried yourself in your job. It’s not good for you and it’s not good for Kitty. And your manners stink.”

“What did I ever do to you?” Jack asked. “Give me an example.”

“That’s easy. When you called this morning, you didn’t ask me to take care of Kitty for you—you told me to. I didn’t have anything more interesting going on this morning, so I didn’t mind helping you out this time.”

“But you have at other times?”

“Only because you ordered me around like I was ten. I’ll bet you did the same thing to Kitty’s teacher.”

Squirming inwardly, Jack set the light on the workbench. “Not intentionally.”

“I know that,” Dan said, “but I doubt that teacher does.”

Jack looked back over his shoulder at Dan. “What do you suggest I do about it?”

“Well, there’s this thing Mom used to talk about—” Dan’s eyes glinted with humor. “I think it’s called an apology.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack grumbled. Apologies had never come easily for him, but Ms. Walsh had been a big enough person to give him one when she’d crossed the line. He leaned back against Dan’s workbench, folded his arms over his chest and crossed one foot over the other, watching Dan check the power steering fluid and then wipe his greasy hands on a shop rag.

“Does Mark feel the same way about me?” Jack asked, referring to the youngest Granger brother.

“Ask him,” Dan said.

“That means yes.” Jack uttered a grim laugh and shook his head. “It’s hard to argue with a unanimous verdict.”

“Look, maybe I came down on you too hard,” Dan said. “I mean, you’re not a total jerk.”

“Knowing I’m only a semi-jerk makes me feel much better.”

Grinning, Dan punched his arm. “C’mon, you know what I mean. It’s just that you’re going to need the teacher’s help. For Kitty’s sake, you can’t afford to alienate her.”

“I hear you,” Jack said. “I’ll go see Ms. Walsh on Monday and make nice, and we’ll get Kitty back on track.”

Dan led the way into his kitchen and poured himself a mug of coffee. “It sounds like Kitty needs more than that. Why don’t you take a leave of absence?”

“Are you nuts?” Jack demanded. “How can you even think about saying that?”

“Maybe because your kid needs you?”

“Yeah, I got that part from Ms. Walsh, believe me.”

“So, learn to delegate. No time like the present.”

Jack helped himself to the coffee. “It’s not that easy. I have ongoing cases.”

“You took time off when Gina died, and the world survived.”

“I’ll think about it,” Jack said, wondering why everybody else in the world knew what he should be doing better than he did.

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