Protecting the Single Mom Page 8

  Trent took a step, but Danny wouldn’t let go of his leg. “Come here, kiddo.” Trent reached down, grabbed Danny’s arms and flung him onto his shoulders. “I think you deserve a ride.”

  “Whoa! Wow. I’m really far up here!” Danny exclaimed. “Mom! Look how high I am.”

  Cate gave a light, quick laugh.

  Trent thought her laugh was melodious, and he wished he could hear it more often. But no, these moments, with Danny chuckling and commenting on how the world looked from “so high up,” would end the minute Trent began questioning them.

  Tonight was truth time.

  Trent ducked as he walked through the front door with Danny on his shoulders. Once inside, he put the boy down.

  Trent started through the living room, this time taking more notice than the last. A white twill-covered sofa and aqua twill-covered club chairs flanked a white wood fireplace with a mantel. There was a glass coffee table filled with shells and corals. Boat paintings and posters on the walls. Fresh flowers. Rows of novels on the white-painted bookshelves. The dining room had a white-washed wood table and French ladder-back chairs with light green cushions. The walls were lake-water blue with light green painted trim. The whole place felt calm and tranquil. And just as he’d observed before, it was all very clean.

  The kitchen was also a happy room with lots of white paint, a wood floor and blue-and-aqua cushions on the stools around the island.

  Trent followed Cate as she went straight to the kitchen sink, lowered the blinds and twisted them shut. She turned on the water and splashed her face.

  Danny scurried behind them and climbed on a stool.

  Trent watched as Cate scrubbed her face with a near vengeance. She took out a towel from the drawer next to the sink and buried her face in it. Again she scrubbed hard. He was surprised she hadn’t eliminated an entire layer of skin.

  “Ah,” she said. “Better.”

  “Are you okay? Really?”

  “I’m okay,” she replied unconvincingly. “Danny, you really were great.”

  “Why was that man at our house, Mom?”

  “I don’t...know.” She turned pleading eyes to Trent. “Maybe you can help us out here?”

  Trent looked at Danny. “In police calls like this, Danny, we believe the perpetrator has targeted the house. He might think you have something valuable. I believe he was prepared to break in, but you came home too soon. You called the police, and criminals don’t like that. My guess is that we’ve probably scared him away for good.”

  “Really?” Danny asked.

  “Really,” Trent lied. From the email and report from Richard Schmitz at CPD, they knew the minions of Brad Kramer aka Le Grande were in Indian Lake. It made sense that Le Grande himself would show up at some point.

  Danny folded his hands on the granite counter. “I’m hungry,” he announced.

  Cate narrowed her eyes and put her hand on her hip. “Just like that? I thought you were afraid.”

  “Not anymore. Now I need some hot cocoa. To warm me up. Like Detective Trent said.”

  Trent lifted an eyebrow, realizing he’d been suckered. He looked at Cate. “I didn’t mean to cause a problem...if...”

  She waved her hand at him. “Forget it. You’ll find kids often have a short attention span.”

  “I see that.” Trent smirked and rubbed Danny’s hair.

  Danny smiled up at him. “You can make it, right? The cocoa?”

  “Absolutely. I can make it while your mom puts the groceries away. I’d help, but I don’t know where things go.”

  Cate immediately went to the grocery bags. “I forgot all about these in the, er—” She looked at Trent for direction.

  “I know,” he said.

  “So, Detective Trent. How do you make hot cocoa? With chocolate syrup, right?”

  Before Trent could answer, Cate interrupted. “We don’t have any. Sorry.”

  Trent shook his head. “Syrup is cheating. I make it with cocoa, sugar and milk. Do you have cocoa?”

  Cate’s eyes narrowed. “Like baking cocoa?”

  “Uh-huh.” Trent smiled. “And I see you have milk.” He nodded toward the gallon on the counter.

  Danny pulled on Trent’s sleeve. “We have lots of cocoa. It’s in the pantry. Right over there.” Danny pointed to a long narrow cabinet. “Sugar is there, too.”

  Trent started toward the pantry. He looked at Cate. “It is okay for me to make the cocoa for Danny?”

  She looked at Danny’s expectant face. “I think we should all have some.”

  “Done.”

  “There’s a saucepan in the cabinet under the stove. What else do you need?”

  “A whisk or slotted spoon?”

  “Whisk is in the drawer in the island to your left.” She went about putting fresh vegetables in the refrigerator.

  Trent found the sugar and cocoa. He measured a half cup of sugar and a third of a cup of cocoa into the saucepan. With the whisk he stirred the two together until there were no lumps in the cocoa. Danny nearly crawled over the island to watch every move Trent made. Slowly, Trent added the milk. He turned on the heat and continued stirring.

  “You know, Cate, if you add tapioca or corn starch to this and not so much milk, it makes pudding,” Trent said, not taking his eyes from the cocoa.

  “Really? And who taught you to cook?”

  “My mother. But actually I only know the fun stuff. Cocoa. Fudge. Pudding.”

  “I’m surprised,” she said, putting the plastic grocery sacks in a recycle can next to the back door. “Given that flat belly of yours, I didn’t think you’d indulge in anything sweet.”

  She’d noticed his physique. Hmm. That was interesting. “Two hundred sit-ups a day. I can have fudge from time to time.”

  “Two hundred!” Danny exclaimed as his eyes flew to his mother. “Should I start doing those now?”

  “Danny, you’re six. You can wait till you’re sixteen.”

  Danny exhaled. “Oh, good. Ten years.”

  “Hey—” Trent smiled, taking the pan from the stove “—you are good at math.”

  Danny smirked and winked at Trent. “I told you I was good.”

  Trent looked at Cate. “Mugs?”

  She went to the cabinet and took out three blue-and-white china mugs. “I don’t have any marshmallows.”

  “We don’t need them,” Trent replied, and poured three mugs full of the steaming brew.

  “Danny,” Cate said. “Sit properly on that stool before you fall off.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Danny answered, reaching for his mug. He blew on the surface and took a sip. He took another sip, closed his eyes and licked his lips. “Yep. This is the best I’ve ever had. Mom, we have to make our cocoa like this from now on.”

  Cate took a sip and raised an eyebrow. “This is delicious. Really good.”

  “Thanks.” Trent wondered if he was blushing. He’d couldn’t remember blushing before, but suddenly his cheeks felt hot. And the heat wasn’t from the cocoa.

  Danny downed his cocoa and used his tongue to lick the inside rim of the mug.

  Cate barely touched hers. She looked at Trent from beneath lowered eyelids. “I should put Danny to bed. Then we can talk.”

  Trent only nodded.

  Cate came around to the stool and lifted Danny off. “Say good night to Detective Davis, Danny.”

  Danny broke away from her and rushed up to Trent, putting his arms up for a hug. Trent leaned down and hugged the little boy. “Good night, Danny.”

  “Night.”

  Danny skipped to his mother, and they disappeared down the hall. Trent heard water running and then the sound of Danny brushing his teeth. Cate giving instruction. Danny answering her. A door closed. Then a door opened.

>   He heard what he thought was the two of them reciting a prayer. It was the one about a guardian angel he remembered from his childhood.

  Trent finished off his cocoa, then rinsed his and Danny’s mugs. He found the soap and washed and dried them. He’d just put the mugs away when Cate came back.

  “Do you want to sit in the living room to talk?” she asked.

  “Whatever is comfortable for you,” he replied.

  He reached in his jacket pocket and took out a notepad. Several of the officers took notes on their cell phones, but Trent was wary of the phone crashing and losing his information. Paper notes became part of his personal backup files he kept on every investigation.

  Cate sat on the sofa and pulled an aqua throw around her shoulders. She looked vulnerable and ethereal all at once. A glimmering blue angel.

  That’s when he noticed it. She’d taken out the brown contacts. Her eyes were blue. Aqua blue. Like a sea nymph.

  He stared at her.

  She smiled softly. “You noticed that my eyes are blue like Danny’s.”

  “I did.”

  “I told him I wear them to make me look professional. For a long time, they were part of my disguise, I guess. At home, they aren’t necessary.”

  “And not so much anymore?”

  “I think I should tell you that I know the man who was out there tonight. His name is Brad Kramer.”

  Trent scribbled in his notebook. He didn’t want to stop or misdirect her. She’d come a long way to get to this point. He just hoped she told him everything.

  She toyed with the fringe on the throw. “I haven’t seen him for over six years. That’s when I ran away from him.” She squirmed on the sofa. “It’s not a pretty story, but you seem to like Danny and he practically reveres you. Unfortunately, you’re involved in this mess. I mean, I know you’re the investigating detective, but I sense there’s more to it.”

  She lifted her head, and her aqua eyes shot him with so much sincerity and intensity, she could have brought him to his knees. How could she know he was becoming invested in her? In Danny? Were his feelings that obvious?

  “It’s true,” he admitted. “I want... I want you both to be safe.” Instantly, he felt guilty. She’d been picking up on the emotions that were flying around inside him like bats in a cage. Violent emotions that, if unleashed, were so powerful, they could overwhelm him. He was torn between a gentle caring for her and her son, and the need to rip Le Grande to shreds for frightening them. The struggle to remain objective and aloof was agony. What he wanted was to have Cate in his arms. Just once more.

  “I know you do, and that’s so sweet,” she said. “In all the years I’ve lived in Indian Lake, only three people know the truth about me. You’ll be the fourth.”

  “Mrs. Beabots. Right?”

  “No.” Cate chuckled. “Though it wouldn’t surprise me that wily old woman had me pegged from day one. She’s uncanny.”

  “She is that.”

  Cate took a deep breath. “My father died when I was fourteen. My mother worked to support us, but we were close. There was no other family. Just me and my mom. When I was seventeen my mother died in a car accident. Suddenly, my world was upside down. I was grief stricken, but I didn’t know how to address the pain. I acted out. My girlfriends and I went to a public pool and flirted with the boys we met. I set my sights on the lifeguard—Brad Kramer. He was older and seemed very romantic. He also bought me my first beer. We could talk all night long. His parents were dead, too. Our sense of loss, abandonment and loneliness bonded us. I thought I’d found my soul mate. I rode on the back of his motorcycle through downstate Illinois. I felt free with the wind in my hair.

  “I skipped school because Brad demanded it. I had promised my mother I would finish school, but he didn’t understand. Brad was always angry. He’d been in and out of foster homes since he was twelve. Flushed out of the system, he said. He was nearly four years older than I was, and I thought he was wise. Always telling me to live life by the minute. Live in the present. Forget the past. Forget tomorrow.

  “We had some bad fights. I didn’t like his friends. I wanted a job and a nice house. He...”

  “He was abusive?”

  “Yes,” she replied lowly, and put her hand to her cheek. “It’s so embarrassing.”

  “Don’t—please. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Men like that are monsters.”

  Her eyes pierced his with intense gratitude. Trent nearly felt light-headed.

  “He was, you know. Exactly that.” She looked at her hands, seeming to gather her thoughts. “It took me a long time to realize that those motorcycle trips were to sell drugs downstate. I didn’t want to believe it. I also wouldn’t admit that he was using them, as well. What I thought was harmless recklessness was cocaine. Marijuana. Heroin. You name it.

  “We were married only two weeks when he came home completely wasted. He could barely stand. When I confronted him about what he was on, he hit me. Not once but several times. I locked myself in the bathroom to escape him. He passed out in the hall.

  “The next morning he brought two dozen roses and promised it would never happen again. But it did. A couple more times. The last time, I went out the back door. All I had were my clothes and running shoes and my wallet with a whole forty-two dollars. No cell phone. I ran. And ran.

  “I know I ran over fifteen miles before I slowed and took a breath.”

  “Adrenaline can do that,” Trent said quietly. “You were running for your life.”

  “I was. I found my way to Highway 20. I thought if I could hitch a ride and get far, far away from Brad, I’d be free.”

  “But you stopped in Indian Lake. You didn’t keep going.”

  Her smile was wistful. Soft. Beautiful. “A nice lady picked me up. She was driving from Chicago to Detroit to see her grandchildren. To this day I can’t remember what I told her, but I think she knew I was running away from someone.” Cate touched her lip. “I might have had a bruise or two. I’m not sure.”

  “So you stopped here?”

  “Uh-huh. For gas. We came into town because she said the price for gas was a lot cheaper here. We went to the marina mini-mart.

  “The guy at the counter was so courteous to me and, though he asked me a lot of questions, I didn’t feel he was prying. I kept going up and down the aisles, my stomach growling, but I didn’t dare spend a single cent.

  “He handed me a soda and a package of cookies and told me they were on the house. He asked my name and I gave him my new one, Cate Sullivan. Anyway, I asked him his name—Lester MacDougal. He told me that he’d seen the kind of look I had on my face because he’d run away from home, too. He said a woman in town had helped him a great deal. The soda and cookies weren’t much, but they were his way of paying back her memory. He said her name was Ann Marie Jensen.”

  Trent stopped writing. “Sarah Jensen Bosworth’s mother.”

  “Correct. Well, his story nearly made me cry. I told him I needed help. He explained he didn’t usually work at the mini-mart. He was a landscaper and he was filling in to help Captain Redbeard. Then Lester went to the car with me and we told the woman who’d brought me that I would be staying. At first she wasn’t so sure about leaving me on my own, but by that time, Captain Redbeard—Red—had come back. I explained my situation to Red and he gave me a job working the register.”

  “So, that’s who knows about you? Captain Red and Lester MacDougal?”

  “And Julie, Red’s wife.” She nodded. “There’s more to it than that.”

  “Oh?”

  “After about a month there, Julie complimented me on my natural sales talent. She was relentless about trying to find something that would better suit me. The pay was okay, and Red and Julie gave me a room to live in at their house. But I knew I couldn’t stay there forever.
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br />   “Then I discovered I was pregnant.” Cate’s voice lowered an octave and was laden with guilt. “At the same time, Julie had heard that one of her friend’s daughters had enrolled in real-estate classes. Red and Julie advanced me the tuition.”

  She shrugged. “Turns out I am a born salesperson. For me, it was so easy. I’ve been selling real estate ever since.” She raised her arms and gestured around. “It took me a couple fixer-uppers to get to this house, but I love it. It’s me.”

  “It sure is,” he said, his gaze tracking around the room.

  “After I sold the house to the new fire jumper, Rand Nelson, I saw Brad following me in his car.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive. I’d swear it in court.” She paused, then lifted her chin defiantly. “That’s why it not only frightens me, but also angers me that Brad has found us. How dare he destroy the world I’ve built for us? How dare he?”

  Trent leaned back. “And all this time, he’s never contacted you?”

  “No. There’s been nothing. I’m really afraid, Detective Davis—”

  “You can drop the formality. Trent would be just fine.”

  “Thanks. There’s only one reason Brad would be here.”

  Did she know more than she let on? Maybe she’d figured out how big Brad’s operation was and that he was branching out to Indian Lake...and points north and east from here. “What’s that?”

  “He’s found out about Danny. He’s seen us together. It wouldn’t take much to put two and two together and realize Danny’s his son.”

  “Danny doesn’t look much like Ra—Brad. Except for the hair. He looks like you. Especially the eyes,” he said pointedly.

  Her expression held a tinge of challenge and defiance. “You figured it out, didn’t you? About the brown contacts?”

  “I did.”

  “I thought you did. The way you kept looking at me at Sunflower Festival, I knew the time had come to discard them.”

  Trent leaned forward and put his notebook in his jacket pocket. “So, you want to tell me about the hair?”

  She chuckled. “Oh, you saw that, too? I meant to do my touch-up this morning but time got away from me. Helping Mrs. Beabots and all.”