Close To Home (Westen Series) (26 page)

Brian tugged at his jacket. “Doc Clint?”

“Yes, Brian?”

“Why doesn’t the pendu-um fall?”

“It’s fastened in at the top. See?” He pointed to the ceiling and both boys craned their necks to look up. “That keeps it from falling, Brian.”

How many questions could these guys ask? Man, he wished Emma would hurry back.

As if she read his mind, Emma appeared at his side before the boys lobbed another question at him. “Okay, guys what do you want to see first, the outdoor park and the roller coaster exhibit, or the Dinosaurs?”

“Dinosaurs.” Ben growled at his brother.

Brian growled back then they both giggled.

“Okay, this way.” As she handed Clint a map and some exhibit pamphlets, she leaned in to whisper, “You might need this. The new facility is huge.”

“You’re right. I haven’t been here since they opened the new place.” He took her hand in his, pleased when she didn’t pull away. “What do you say we each keep an eye on one boy. You take Brian, and I’ll watch Ben.”

“Ah, divide and conquer.” She laughed as they followed the boys along the corridor to the Dinosaur exhibit.

For the next several hours the boys dragged them from one exhibit to another. Question after question flew out of the boys’ mouths—almost mind numbing in their frequency. In the end, Emma took pity on Clint. They took the boys to the indoor tree house so they could climb the rope ladders and play on their own. Emma and he stood to the side, enjoying the rest their brains so badly needed.

“Wow. They’re amazing. Those two are very inquisitive.” Clint said.

Emma laughed at his bewildered expression. “All six-year-olds ask questions. Everything is new to them. And imagine the things running through their minds in this place? Add on the fact that you get double the fun with twins, and I’d say you hit the jackpot.”

Clint took her hand in his, entwining their fingers. “I’ve thought that for some time now, Emma.”

She felt her cheeks fill with heat. The desire in his eyes took her breath away. “Clint...”

A movement in the corridor behind Clint caught her attention. She leaned to the side, trying to get a better look.

“What’s wrong, Emma?” Clint turned to see what had distracted her.

“I thought I saw someone I knew...” Emma took a few steps forward.

“Who?” Clint joined her, unease climbing up his spine.

“Just a customer from the Peaches ‘N Cream.”

“You know him from the café in Weston?”

She nodded her head. “Yes. He’s been in a few times when on business trips. I wonder what he’s doing here?”

“Here with his kids?”

“Grandkids, maybe. I think he’s too old to have young kids.” She shivered, as if shaking off her own sense of unease. “I think I was imagining things. Must be all the stress first over Mama, and now with this paternity suit and custody hearing.”

“Maybe I should go check it out. Why don’t you tell me what he looked like?”

“He’s a middle-aged man, maybe late fifties. Average height, average weight, average appearance.” She stopped and laughed at herself. “I think I just described half the middle-aged men in Columbus. I’m sure I was mistaken, Clint. Let’s just get the boys and go to the Planetarium. They’ll want to see the stars.”

“You’re sure?” Clint scanned the corridor once more.

She tugged on his hand. “I’m sure I imagined it. Come on. We have ten minutes to extricate my two monkeys from the rope ladder and convince them they want to go sit in a theater.” She grinned as he followed her to the indoor tree house. “If you think answering their questions was hard, wait to you see how difficult this is going to be.”

Clint didn’t believe in coincidences. Despite his initial impression, he’d learned Emma was a careful and cautious mother. If she thought she saw someone from Weston, chances were it wasn’t a mistake. As they waited for the lights to go out in the Planetarium his gaze wandered among the people already seated and those entering.

Several men fit the nearly plain description Emma had given him. All seemed to be occupied with children. No one seemed to act unusual in any way.

Perhaps Emma had just imagined it.

Then why couldn’t he shake this tension between his shoulder blades?

The Planetarium’s lights began to dim.

“It’s twilight and you are several miles north of the city...” The show’s narrator began his speech. The room slowly darkened except for the twinkling of tiny lights in the sky, each light’s position equal to a star in the galaxy.

Clint continued to watch the entrance door until Brian pulled on his hand. He leaned over. “What’s up, Bri?”

“That’s the Big Dipper, right?”

“You’re right. It sure is.” Clint smiled, relaxing. He draped one arm behind Brian’s seat, his hand touching Emma’s shoulder on the other side. He draped the other across Ben’s seat. Glancing down, he saw Ben mesmerized by the program. He imagined all the stories he’d told them about the stars named after Greek Gods pouring through the little boy’s mind. For a moment, Clint drifted in the now familiar sense of family he shared with Emma and her sons.

The hairs on the back of his neck tingled. The odd sense of awareness settled between his shoulders again, only this time its grip demanded his attention.

“Ben, trade me seats.” He eased Ben into his seat. So entranced with the stars, the boy didn’t seem to notice the change.

Clint scanned the room once more. The door to his right opened. A man slipped out, giving Clint just a quick glimpse of him before the door shut and returned the room to near darkness. Emma was right, he appeared average, from his height, and weight, to the plain blue coat and baseball cap he wore. Average, except for the sense of danger he’d brought with him.

That had to be the man. Why would he leave before the program ended? Headed to the bathroom, perhaps? He’d just follow him, and if he was, then at least he and Emma could rest easier.

Leaning to the side, Clint whispered to Emma. “I’ll be back. Stay here with the boys until I return.”

Confusion filled her face, her eyes widening with worry, but she didn’t try to stop him. He slipped out of his seat and headed for the exit door. He didn’t like people stalking Emma, her boys, or himself.

He paused to adjust to the bright light outside the Planetarium theater. Looking first left then right, he tried to find his prey.

For a moment he thought he’d lost him. Instinct led him to check the front exit first. Just as he got to it, he saw the man outside, heading along the sidewalk at a pretty good clip toward the parking lot.

Damn, I’m going to lose him.

Clint hurried out the door, maneuvering past the tide of pedestrians, his eyes trained on the dark-blue baseball cap of the man in front of him.

He picked up his pace and jogged down the aisle of cars, trying to get a glimpse of the vehicle the other man climbed into.

A school bus honked behind him.

Clint jumped out of the way.

He waited for the bus to pass then hurried farther along the lane. A brown sedan pulled out, the man with the ball cap in the driver’s seat. Clint read the license plate as quick as he could.

He repeated it all the way back to COSI’s entrance. At the desk, he asked for a sheet of paper and a pen, quickly writing the plate number down before he forgot it. He shoved the paper into his pocket just as Emma and the boys walked toward him.

“Where’d ya go, Doc Clint?” Ben asked.

“You missed the stars,” Brian added.

They both studied him as if he held the answers to the universe. Only this time the answer was something he couldn’t give them. How did you explain to two first-graders that your every waking moment had become an exercise in loving them, protecting them?

“It’s time for McDonalds,” Emma announced, distracting them with their favorite place to eat and leaving Clint to catch his breath.

She glanced at his pocket then at his face, her question in her eyes.

“Later. At home, Emma.”

She didn’t argue. Neither of them wanted to alarm the boys. He’d share his suspicions with her when they were alone. How much strength did she have left to fight this new fear?

* * *

Later that night, Clint stood just inside the door of the Wagon Wheel Tavern, the only place in the county where a man could have a few beers or something stronger if he wished. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the smoke and dim lights. He hadn’t been in a bar like this since his undergraduate days at Ohio State. Then he’d been in search of fun and friends. Tonight held no fun and he wasn’t sure yet if Emma’s cousin counted as a friend. But he was definitely an ally.

Once his vision cleared, Clint found Gage sitting at the end of the bar. His posture announced to the world to leave him alone. Gage had some reason besides his father’s health for coming home to Weston, but right now it didn’t matter to Clint. He needed the former cop’s expertise in discovering who was following Emma and the boys.

“You’re a hard man to track down.” Clint sat on the stool next to Gage.

“That’s because I don’t want to be found, Doc.” Gage took another sip of the whiskey in front of him. “Go away.”

“Can’t. I need your help.” Clint asked the bartender for a beer. Once the beer sat in front of him, and the bartender had moved back to the other end of the bar, he quietly said, “Emma’s being followed.”

That got Gage’s full attention. He fixed his intense gaze on Clint. “Who?”

“My best guess is he’s a private detective.”

“How do you figure?”

Clint took a long drink of his beer. “Average height, weight, build, age. Looks like he could be anyone’s dad or tax accountant.”

“The best ones usually are.” He finished his whiskey then signaled the bartender for a second. “So why do you think he’s following Emma?”

Clint filled him in on the blood tests and the episode in Columbus. “I managed to get his license plate number.” He took the paper out of his pocket and laid it on the bar. “I’d hoped you’d trace it.”

Gage took the paper, read it and slipped it into his coat pocket. “When do you want the information?”

“Yesterday would be nice.”

“I’ll bring it to Dad’s appointment tomorrow.” He finished his whiskey then left money on the bar beside his shot glass. “I don’t suppose there’ll be good news for him?”

Clint hated giving people bad news, especially people he knew, but Gage wouldn’t appreciate anything but the truth, so he shook his head.

“Damn. I didn’t think so.”

Clint sat nursing his beer, watching in the mirror as Gage stalked out of the bar. A minute later he heard the roar of the Harley. Tomorrow was going to be a rotten day. He had the pleasure of informing Gage’s father he had metastatic cancer. As a resident he’d handed out his share of death sentences. He always felt like an executioner. At least in emergency medicine death was usually quick.

What made it worse this time was he knew and liked Lloyd Justice. The sheriff was a good man, a well-loved man in the community.

Clint finished his beer, paid his tab and headed out the door. Emma was waiting for him. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. It felt good to have her expecting him.

* * *

The brown sedan sat parked in the alley diagonally across the street from Emma’s house. The man held the camera, focusing on the front door as it opened to let in the local doctor. He snapped a sequence of pictures. Then he set the camera on the seat, picked up his notebook and jotted down the time.

The doc didn’t spend every night with the little redhead, but he got lucky regular enough to help out the client’s case.

The lights in the lower level went out. It took a while, but finally the last light in the upstairs went out, too. Too bad the little lady was so modest and kept her drapes drawn. With the lenses he had, he could’ve gotten some nice photos to sell on the internet. He bet he could get top dollar for pictures of her firm body.

At the idea he felt the familiar stirring in his crotch. Knowing neither the doc nor the redhead would venture out again tonight, he decided to return to the city. He hadn’t visited a strip club in weeks.

* * *

Emma sat on the edge of her bed, brushing her hair. Glancing into the dresser’s mirror across from her, her eyes met Clint’s in the reflection. Her hand stilled, the brush only half an inch from her hair.

“Was that man following us today?” She lowered the brush to her lap, her hands gripping it tight.

“I’m not sure, Em.” Clint blinked, breaking the spell between them.

She turned toward him. “Don’t lie to me, Clint. I know you followed him out of COSI. I saw you put a paper in your pocket when you came inside.”

“I’m not lying to you.” He flopped onto the mattress beside her, throwing an arm over his head, and exhaled in a weary sigh. “I never got a chance to talk to him. By the time I got to the parking lot, he’d already pulled out. So I don’t know for sure that he’s following you.”

“But you think so.” She tried to still the racing of her heart by twisting the handle of her brush tighter in her hands.

“My gut tells me he might be, yes.”

The brush handle snapped.

Clint sat straight up on the bed’s edge and pulled her into his arms. “I didn’t want to worry you until I had more information.”

“The piece of paper in your pocket?” she mumbled into his chest.

“I managed to copy the license plate number.”

“Then I didn’t imagine it, did I?”

“No, sweetheart. Your instincts were right.”

The trembling started then. First her hands, then her body. On its heels came the tears.

God, how she hated all this crying. Lately she’d turned into a watering can.

She pressed herself closer to him, desperate to garner some strength from his solid, warm body. He rubbed his hands over her back, then her arms.

“We’ll find out who he is and what he wants.”

“Dwayne sent him. I know he did.” Emma pulled away, running her hands through her hair then dashing at the moisture around her eyes with the heels of her hands.

“Given the fact that your ex has decided to turn our lives upside down, it’s a rather accurate assumption.”