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