Jamie touched the drawing of a black Doberman between a medium-sized brown terrier and a pit bull. “They’re mean.”
“‘She’s got a boy name,’ said the brown terrier,” Adeline went on. “‘Why’d your people name you Doug?’ Doug held her tail high and said, ‘They love me.’ Then the three dog bullies passed. The Doberman didn’t say anything. He knew Doug had a nice home and he had none.” Adeline turned the page. “Doug overcame her fear of the dog bullies. She felt sorry for them instead. They teased her but she didn’t have to let them hurt her.”
“Why are dog bullies mean?”
“They’re jealous,” Adeline said.
“What’s ‘jell-us’?”
She’d have to get used to talking to a three-year-old. “They just want what Doug has.”
Adeline read about Doug going home to her people. Then Doug and the bullies ran into each other at a birthday party. The bullies found a home and they all started to become friends. At that point, Adeline finished to “The End.”
She closed the book. “That was a good story.”
“Yeah. I feel sorry for the dog bullies.”
“Why do you feel sorry for them?”
“They didn’t have a home.”
“Well, then you got the message of the story right. And they ended up getting a home.” She smiled down at him as he looked thoughtfully up at her.
“Do you have a mommy?” Jamie asked.
The question came so out of the blue she had to take a moment to assemble her reply. “Yes.”
Jamie wore such a serious face for one so young. “Did she go away?”
Did he ask very many people this? He must have noticed other kids his age had both a mother and a father. Did he remember Tess? He’d only been a year old when she died. “No, but my dad did.”
“You don’t have a daddy?”
He couldn’t possibly know what a hard question that was. “I do but he went away when I was a baby.”
Jamie stared up at her, his crystal clear blue eyes wide with absorption. “Is he dead?”
“No. He didn’t want to stay with me and my mother.”
With that, Jamie turned and lowered his head. After a time he looked back up at her. “My mommy left me. Daddy said she had to go away.”
“She didn’t want to leave, sweetie. She died. I know she would have never left you if she had any say in the matter.” She put her hand over his tiny one on the comforter. “It’s okay. Your daddy loves you very much, just like my mommy loves me. Some of us don’t have both parents, that’s all.”
Jeremy appeared by the bed. “Time for sleep, buddy.”
Adeline stood while he tucked Jamie into the covers.
“Love you.” Jeremy kissed Jamie’s forehead.
“Love you too, Daddy.”
Jamie’s eyes closed and he began to slip into sleep. Precious. Children could fall asleep so easily.
Jeremy headed for the door and Adeline left ahead of him. Out of the room, he stopped in the loft.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to throw you into that on your first day here.”
“It’s all right. I enjoyed it.” She tried to sound nonchalant, as though reading to her son and handling a serious question were no big deal. That wouldn’t affect her when it came time to leave...not.
* * *
The next day, Jeremy stepped into his office building with concern weighing down his brow. He and Adeline had just dropped Jamie off at Camille and Oscar Biggs’s house. Camille had offered to watch Jamie temporarily until Jeremy could find a new nanny. He and Oscar were friends as well as colleagues. Camille had told them Oscar would want to talk to Jeremy when he arrived in the office. Jeremy had received a text saying the equivalent from Oscar himself. His general counsel wouldn’t relay a message like that if it wasn’t important.
He guided Adeline into the elevator, vaguely aware of how she took everything in around her, from the marble lobby to the security desk and the sign in the elevator mapping out businesses on each floor. She wore her professional PI attire again, this time in a man-torturing black pencil skirt with matching vest over a white shirt. She had her trench coat over her arm, and runnable heel-height ankle boots, showcasing her leggy strides.
The elevator opened on the top floor. He walked out with her into the open reception area flanked on three sides by cubicles, the windowed walls lined with the executive offices. Adeline’s heels tapped against the gray slate tile.
“Good morning, Mr. Kincaid,” the receptionist greeted from behind the marble-plated half wall from her desk. She wore her black hair pulled tight into a bun. A vase of white lilies and a large round bronze clock added a touch of warmth. Light streamed through windows on each side, and irregularly placed tables with white chairs provided books and magazines catering to a variety of interests.
Jeremy guided Adeline down a hall between cubicles to the west side of the floor and his corner office.
His assistant rose from her chair when she saw him. “Oscar said to get him as soon as you arrived.”
“Send him in.”
“I’ll wait out here.” Adeline stopped near the assistant.
She and Jeremy were going to go over Tess’s accident this morning and strategize on how to take his lead further. But now they had another meeting with Oscar to squeeze in.
“Oscar said to include your PI,” the assistant said.
That brought both his and Adeline’s head turning.
Was this related to Tess?
“I’ll go get him.”
Jeremy met Adeline’s eyes, hers likely less astounded than his. She might expect the unexpected while working cases. In business he could handle that. This was personal, though. Oscar never insisted on talking to him so urgently. If something important came up, he usually just stopped by his office.
He remained standing with her as Oscar appeared at his assistant’s desk. A shade over six feet, Oscar dressed in a suit and tie every day and kept his body in good physical condition. He wore scholarly glasses and still had a head of dark hair, clipped short and peppered with gray.
He came into the office with a curious glance at Adeline.
Jeremy introduced them.
“The PI,” Oscar said, shaking her hand and giving her form a quick, purely observational once-over. “Not quite what I expected.”
“Did you expect a man, Mr. Biggs?”
Jeremy couldn’t tell if she sounded defensive. She didn’t strike him as a woman who’d let anyone get away with treating her with anything other than respect.
“I’m not sure what I expected, Ms. Winters, but it wasn’t a woman with such a fine presence.”
She had a way of balancing social etiquette with a serious question, her smile engaging and, yes, her presence was fine...very fine. Whatever she’d sought to find out must have satisfied her.
“Thank you... I think.”
Oscar put his hands together in a soft clap. “On to the purpose of this meeting.”
“Coffee.” Jeremy’s assistant entered with a tray and put it down on a conference table.
Jeremy sat at one end, Oscar to his right, Adeline to his left. She didn’t take a cup of coffee, just a glass of water. Oscar