“Yeah,” he said. His gaze moved to something behind her, and at first she thought Megan had gotten up, but when she turned, she saw she was still sound asleep. He had looked at his chair in the living room. Looked at it with need.

She stood up, went to his television table and got his bottle of pain pills. After she put the bottle on the kitchen table, she took his glass and filled it once more with water. She handed it to him as she sat down again.

He didn’t seem pleased. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips pressed together tightly. Finally he said, “What are you doing?”

“Getting your pills. Water.”

“I know that, but why?”

“Because it’s time for you to take a pill.”

“How do you know?”

“From the look on your face. You seemed…pained.”

“I always look like this.”

She smiled, then tried to hide it.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, his voice even rougher than before.

“I’ve always admired a good curmudgeon,” she said. “George Bernard Shaw. Scrooge. They lend balance to the world.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

She nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“Well, knock it off.”

“Then take your pill.”

He glared at her for another long moment, but then he opened the bottle, shook a pill onto his palm and popped it into his mouth. He drank the entire glass of water, and once more, he wiped his mouth with his arm.

The movement should have been gauche, but it wasn’t. He reminded her of Marlon Brando in Streetcar. Rough and cruel, but only because it hid a vulnerability so deep he didn’t know where to turn.

“So what’s in the case?” he asked.

She shifted her attention to the pillowcase, dumping the contents on the table. The first thing she saw was a picture frame. She moved to pick it up at the same time he did, and their fingers brushed. The contact surprised her, and she jerked her hand back. He grew very still for a moment, then lifted the frame so he could see the picture. “Hmm,” he said.

“What?”

He turned it around.

“That’s Megan’s mother,” Hailey said. “Patricia.”

Jack looked at it again. “She was pretty.”

“Megan looks a lot like her. She’ll be a beautiful woman.”

“Do you know when this Patricia died?”

Hailey shook her head. “Not really. But I think it was after they moved here. I started working for Roy two years ago.”

“What’s that?” He pointed to a sheet of paper inside a plastic bag.

Hailey turned it over to find a recipe. For mulligatawny stew. Handwritten, stained. She passed it to Jack.

“Why would he give her this?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s all he has in his wife’s handwriting.”

Jack shook his head, then put the recipe aside. He picked up a bank passbook and opened it. “Four hundred and fifty dollars. In the name of Megan Chandler.”

“When was the last deposit?”

“At Christmas.”

She didn’t see much else of interest. Just clothes, which she proceeded to fold. There were jeans and sweatshirts, a few dresses, a jacket. Two pairs of shoes, a stack of panties and three sets of pajamas.

“He knew he was going to be gone awhile,” Jack said. “Or that he might never come back.”

“It appears so. But there’s something I’ve been wondering all morning. Why did he bring Megan to you, when I was just down the hall?”

Jack’s frown deepened. “The only reason I can think of is that he knew I was a cop.”

“So he must have guessed he was in trouble. Bad trouble.”

“Given the fact that he’s a corpse now, he guessed right.”

“And he didn’t say anything else?”

He looked at her, studying her closely. She thought he was going to say something, but then he just shook his head. She had the feeling he wasn’t telling her everything. Maybe that was for the best. She didn’t want to know anything that would get her into trouble. Not when she had to look out for Megan.

As if he’d sensed her protective thought, he nodded toward the living room. “We should call.”

Hailey caught his gaze and held it. “No, we’re not going to call.”

“We’re not?”

“No,” she repeated. “I want her here.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Maybe not. But I’m going to all the same.”

He leaned back in his chair, giving her a repeat of his unhappy face. It made him look dangerous in a way. Not spooky dangerous. Sexy dangerous.

“I promised her that she could stay with me,” she said. “She has no one else. And she’s too vulnerable to be taken away by strangers. It would make things infinitely worse.”

“The cops will find out he had a kid.”

“I don’t see that as an obstacle. I’m sure there are ways we could make them think Megan was away. I could tell Grace and a few other tenants. They’d help.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he looked back at her, he’d eased up on the frown. “For now,” he said.

“Fair enough.”

“But when things settle down…”

“We’ll talk about it again.”

“You design web sites? You should have been a lawyer.”

“Thank you.”

He leaned forward again, and she prepared for his retort, but instead, he frowned once more and nodded toward the living room. “Look who’s awake.”

Hailey turned to see Megan sitting up, clutching Tottie and sucking her thumb. “Hey, sweet pea,” she said as she left Jack and his scowl. “You slept a long time.”

Megan looked at her. “I want to go home,” she said.

“I know you do, honey. But I’m afraid we can’t go home just yet. Mr. McCabe and I are going to look after you, remember?”

She nodded slowly. Hailey thought she might start crying again, but she didn’t. “Tottie’s hungry,” was all she said.

“I’ll bet she is. And I’ll bet you are, too. Tell you what. You stay here with Mr. McCabe, and I’ll get us all lunch from my apartment and bring it back.”

“I want to go, too.”

“I’ll only be gone a few minutes. Why don’t you show Mr. McCabe your special blanket?”

Megan nodded, and Hailey wasn’t sure it was a good thing. The girl was a scrapper. Always had been. She sometimes had a tendency to throw a dramatic tantrum when she didn’t get her way, although the episodes were short-lived. To see her acquiesce so soon, and so stoically, told Hailey a lot. This little one was going to need a great deal of attention and a great deal of understanding.

“I’ll be back,” she said, turning to Jack. “I’ll bring some food.”

“I’ll help,” he said, leaning down to retrieve his cane.

“No, that’s okay. You need to be here with Megan.” Before he could argue, Hailey unlocked the apartment door and went outside. It was still chilly. She would put on a jacket before she returned.

As she walked toward her apartment, she felt nervous, as if someone was watching her. When she looked at the parking lot below, no one seemed to be there, although there were several unfamiliar cars in the lot. She shook the feeling off as understandable paranoia, but she walked faster and didn’t feel better until she was inside her place. She bolted the door behind her. The feeling didn’t completely disappear, and she understood right then that her own personal bubble of invulnerability had been shattered this morning. She wondered it she’d ever get it back again.

“THIS IS GARFIELD and he’s the dog. And these are the bees, the mommy and daddy and baby, see?”

Jack nodded, feeling awkward and inept as he listened to Megan talk about her blanket. She continued to point out all the significant pictures—the little girl who was all alone, the eyes, the letters and numbers and the great big heart. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense to him, but then he couldn’t remember ever thinking about a quilt before. Megan certainly took it seriously, though. After each explanation, she waited for his nod and only then moved to the next.

So he kept nodding when there was a pause, but he wasn’t thinking about the big bus or the bumblebee family. His thoughts were on the girl and her situation. She was an orphan, and even though Hailey wanted to keep her, the state still had control over her future. Unfortunately the state was a notoriously bad parent.

It would probably be better for the kid to stick with Hailey, but if she did that and a relative showed up, there’d be big trouble. Who knows how attached Megan would become to Hailey? Then she’d have lost her parents and her guardian, and that wouldn’t be something she could easily recover from. He’d seen that too many times to have any doubts. Kids taken from bad families, put into foster homes, then shuffled to another and another. Those kids didn’t, as a rule, fare well. They ended up coming back home, only by then the parent state was usually in the form of a penitentiary.

At least she was a girl. Girls generally adjusted better than boys.

“…daddy?”

He heard the word and realized she’d asked him something. “What?”

“Do you know my daddy?”

Shoot. He’d hoped to avoid this. What was he supposed to say? Where the hell was Hailey? “Uh, yeah,” he said. “Sure.”

“Hailey says he went to heaven to see my mommy.”

Dammit, where was she? How long could getting some food take? “Yeah, uh, well…Hailey’s pretty smart.”

“Does she baby-sit you, too?”

He smiled. “Not exactly.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “People don’t come back from heaven.”

He probably needed to say something else. Something reassuring. She looked up at him with those big blue eyes, just staring. Waiting. But he didn’t have a clue. She might as well have been one of those bumblebees on the quilt for all he knew how to talk to her. He’d never been around kids, not like Megan, at least. He’d know what to say if she’d just tagged a building or sold drugs on the schoolyard. But this? He was way out of his league.

He blinked, but she didn’t. She didn’t move. “You want to watch some television?” he asked desperately.

She nodded, but did he detect a note of disappointment in her eyes? Had he already failed?

“I like Reading Rainbow,” she said in a small voice. “And sometimes I watch Barney.”

“Barney,” he repeated, wishing he knew what she was talking about. “Sure you don’t like to watch football?”

She shrugged.

“It’s fun, trust me,” he said, turning toward the television. The remote was on the TV table, and he switched on the set, grateful for the distraction. He clicked until he hit the Dolphins’ game. Then he went to his chair and sank into it, grateful to be off his feet.

Megan came up next to him. “I’ve seen this game before at my house.”

“Yeah? Well, good. Greatest game ever invented.”

“My daddy says football is for jerks. He says the quarterboy doesn’t know shit from shinola.”

Jack jerked his gaze to Megan. “Pardon me?”

She sighed. “He says football is for jerks—”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you. Maybe we’ll look for this Barney show, after all.”

“Okay,” she said.

He flipped the channel and the next and the next until finally he found some cartoons. It wasn’t Barney, but it wasn’t football, either.

She moved closer to him, then before he could do a thing, she climbed into his lap and settled back. She adjusted her doll under her arm and put her thumb in her mouth.

It was the damndest thing.

Chapter Four

Jack gripped the arms of his chair, not sure what to do. He sent out a mental SOS for Hailey, but to no avail. Megan, on the other hand, seemed completely relaxed. She curved to his body, leaning her head on his upper arm, letting her legs dangle on each side of his. He said a quick thanks to whatever had made her pick his good side to climb on.

As it was, he wanted nothing more than to put her back on the floor where she belonged. But that would probably freak her out.

He went through another list of options, each one worse than the last. He couldn’t jump up, that was for sure. He couldn’t even talk his way out of this, because she was hardly more than a baby, for crying out loud.

He watched a cartoon mouse hit a cartoon cat with a frying pan, but he had no idea what had provoked the attack, because he was too busy thinking about the scent he’d just noticed. Not like perfume. Not even like a woman after a bath. This was a whole different smell. A vulnerable smell. He’d never been with a kid who didn’t smell bad. Or who was so quiet. Except for the rhythmic sucking of her thumb, she was completely still. Content to just sit there on his lap. She didn’t ask for anything or make a fuss. She wasn’t the least bit afraid of him, which was maybe the weirdest thing of all.

He exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he was holding and tried to relax. It wasn’t easy, given that he didn’t want to move.

Distraction. That was what he needed. Something to make him forget the little girl, the vulnerable scent. Unfortunately, cartoons didn’t seem to be sufficient.

His thoughts turned to Hailey. Falling back on an old exercise his first partner had taught him, he did an inventory of the woman, starting from the outside and moving in.

Blond, but not the fake kind—no dark roots. He wasn’t a betting man, but he’d lay his disability check on her hair not being a result of an advancement in chemistry. Her eyebrows were light, too, although not nearly as light as her hair.

Blue eyes. Almost the same color as Megan’s, but not quite. Hailey’s were a little darker and a little wiser. But there was innocence in the woman’s eyes, too. Vulnerability. She shouldn’t be involved in this mess. He just knew it. If Roy’s killers knew he had a kid and they came back to clean up any loose ends…

He was digressing. Back to the exercise. What kind of skin did she have? Soft. No, dammit, he couldn’t put that down on a report. Pale. That was better. Pale and perfect, not a wrinkle, not a scar, nothing.

Nose? Normal. Narrow. Nothing that would set her apart.

Mouth? Now that was a little more interesting. Her mouth had caught his attention a couple of times. She smiled easily and she had good teeth. White, even, like someone in a toothpaste commercial. But her lips were the nicest part of her face. The color of coral or maybe pinker than that. Pretty. A terrific smile.

How’d Captain Driscoll like to see him write that about a witness? The witness had a terrific smile and vulnerable eyes. Yeah, that would go over with a bang.

The funny thing was, she wasn’t that attractive on first glance. Nothing that would stop traffic. But now that he’d talked with her, thought about her, he could see that she had her own kind of pretty. Especially when she smiled.

It didn’t hurt that she had the kind of figure he most admired. Not too skinny, like those starving models, but nice. Womanly. Her curves were the real McCoy, he’d bet. None of that silicone for her.

She was the kind of woman he never dated. He didn’t want apple pie and together forever. He wanted right now and out the door. At least, that was what he had wanted.

Now, if he was smart, he wouldn’t want anything. Anybody. The women in his life had all made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t required to talk much, think much or even spend much money. Because he had the muscles. Because he knew exactly what a woman wanted before she knew herself. It was his physique and his technique, the terrible duo that had been his best buddies, that had made the women come home with him. And thanks to a bullet, he no longer had either.

He’d heal, but he’d never be the same. He’d have the scars and the limp and the knowledge that he was just as vulnerable as the kid on his lap. He couldn’t leap tall buildings in a single bound or outrun a speeding train, but he sure as hell could stop a bullet with his hip.

Megan shifted and he tensed again. She withdrew her wet thumb from her mouth. “Is Hailey coming back?” she asked, then popped the thumb back in.

“I sure as h—I hope so,” he said.

She didn’t say anything more. She just watched her show. The cat and mouse had been replaced by Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd. At least Jack knew who they were. Even so, Bugs wasn’t enough of a distraction. All he could think about was the kid on his lap and the woman down the hall. He’d give it two more minutes, and then he’d go see what was keeping Hailey.

He only had to wait one minute. The door wasn’t locked and Hailey walked in, but Jack couldn’t do anything about it because Megan didn’t leave. He’d figured for sure she’d jump down, but she just sat there, her head turned to the right, waiting for Hailey to come into her field of vision.

“I see you two have made yourselves comfortable.”

Jack cleared his throat, sure that if he said anything at all, the kid would take it personally. He could see Hailey now, carrying two big supermarket bags, one in each arm. She’d put on a jacket. He hoped she’d take it off soon.

“How does everyone like spaghetti?” she asked, focusing on Megan.

The little girl nodded.

“Uh, you need help?” Jack asked. Praying she’d say yes.

“No, not at all. You just sit tight. I’ll let you know when lunch is ready.”

Not the answer he was looking for. Damn.

Hailey smiled as she put the bags on the counter. Jack’s innocent question hadn’t fooled her a bit. He didn’t know what to make of Megan or how to get her off his lap. Big man like him, afraid of a little girl. So silly. So…endearing. Why that should be, she didn’t know, but there it was. She felt a warmth from Jack she hadn’t before. Perhaps because, even though he didn’t want Megan on his lap, he didn’t force her to leave. That said something about him. Something good.

She hung her jacket on the back of a chair, then unpacked her supplies: vegetables and fruits, milk, spaghetti noodles, sauce, some frozen dinners and some chicken she’d found in her freezer, orange juice, hot cereal and several cans of soup. Not that she planned on making all this today. But she’d probably be going to the market long before Jack did, and she wanted him to have something healthy in the house.

It only took her a few minutes to find a pot big enough for the pasta and another for the sauce; he even had a strainer, which was good. But she had to wash everything first. He clearly didn’t cook often, if ever.

Poor guy. She glanced at him again, almost laughing out loud at his rigid posture. Then it occurred to her that maybe Megan was hurting him. That wasn’t so amusing. “Megan, honey, want to come help me make lunch?”

Megan popped her thumb out of her mouth and solemnly climbed down from her perch. As soon as her feet touched the ground, Hailey saw Jack exhale. Such a big exhalation, in fact, she wondered if he’d breathed at all while she was gone.

As Megan approached, Hailey took the opportunity to look at her closely. Her eyes weren’t red anymore; she apparently hadn’t cried since the bath. But there was something different about her. The light on the inside had dimmed. She didn’t shine anymore. The automatic smile wasn’t there. Please God, let it be temporary. Let her recover.

Hailey got three plates from the cupboard and held them out to the little girl. “Can you set these on the table?”

Megan nodded, then put her doll on the floor. She took the plates and went to the table, placing the dishes right in front of the three chairs. Then she turned to wait for her next task. So quiet. So obedient. It broke Hailey’s heart.

Megan ended up setting the table perfectly, down to the folded paper napkins. Hailey made a salad and finished up the spaghetti, all the while thinking about what she should do. Take Megan back to her place? Probably. Despite Jack’s misgivings, Hailey couldn’t imagine that whoever had killed Roy would care much about a four-year-old girl. It would have made her feel better, though, if she understood why Roy had been killed. Drugs? A burglary gone bad? Fool. Damn fool. He shouldn’t have done anything dangerous, not when he had Megan in his care.

“You need a hand?”

She looked up to see Jack standing in the kitchen by the refrigerator. She’d been so preoccupied that she hadn’t even seen him walk by. “No, no. We’re almost ready. Just a few more minutes.”

He headed for one of the kitchen chairs, and Hailey turned to Megan. “Honey, why don’t you go play for a bit? I’ll call you as soon as lunch is ready.”

Megan obeyed, taking Tottie with her. Once she was out of the room, Hailey poured the spaghetti into the colander and ran some cool water over it. She brought the salad to the table and sat down next to Jack. “I’ve been thinking…” she said.

“Yeah?”

“About what to do next.”

“Okay.” His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was already planning to nix any ideas she might have.

“I’m going to take her back to my place,” she said. “She’s comfortable there. She knows me.”

“You realize you’ll be questioned. And if they find out you’ve got Megan, they’ll call social services.”

“Why would they question me?”

“Because you live in the complex. They’ll question everyone.”

“And if I tell them I don’t know anything?”

He shook his head. “Did Chandler always pay you in cash?”

She thought about it. “Mostly. But a few times he wrote me a check.”

“Did anyone else in the building know you looked after Megan?”

“Okay, I get it. They’ll figure out I was her sitter.”

“That’s right. And they’ll figure Roy left her with you.”

“He didn’t.”

“You want me to lie?”

She took in a breath, thinking hard about what she was going to propose. “Yes, I guess I do. I want to tell the police that I haven’t seen Megan. That she went to visit relatives.”

“And if they ask who these relatives are?”

“I’ll tell them the truth. That I don’t know.”

“It’s too risky.”

“Why? What harm can it possibly do to keep this child for a while? She’s been traumatized enough without having to go downtown. Without someone putting her in a foster home with strangers.”

“Hailey,” he said, “I agree. It’s not the best solution. But it’s the only one that will keep you out of trouble.”

“I don’t mind trouble,” she said.

He smiled at her, a kind of lopsided grin. “You’ve never been in trouble a day in your life.”

“How do you know?”

He laughed. “All I have to do is look at you. Oh, maybe you exceeded the speed limit once. Probably had an overdue book at the library. But trouble? Uhuh.”

“Well, Mr. Know-it-all, you’re wrong.”

“I am?”

She nodded. “I got into some very serious trouble once.”

He studied her for a moment. “How old were you?”

She felt her cheeks heat and she looked away. “Eleven.”

“What’d you do—break someone’s window?”

“It was a church window, thank you. And I was in trouble for a long time.”

“I’ll bet.”

She looked at him again, at his smug little smirk. “Just because I haven’t been in trouble before doesn’t mean I won’t be able to handle trouble now.”

“I have no doubts about that. Only, it’s best to avoid trouble if you can.”

“But don’t you see?” she asked, no longer teasing. “I can’t. I love Megan, Jack. I’ve taken care of her for two years. She’s like family. I can’t give her up.”

He sighed. “Let me think about it,” he said. “Maybe there’s another solution.”

She nodded. At least it wasn’t a straight-out no.

Hailey called Megan to the table, then served up lunch. It was a quiet affair, no idle chatter, not even from Megan. And when they finished, Megan put her dish on the counter like a perfect little soldier. Then she went back to the floor, to her cartoons.

“Listen,” Hailey said, “I’m going to go get a few more things from my place.”

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