The Drowning Man (19 page)

“Girls,” Amy said, “Go set the table please.”

They immediately scurried off to the dining room and the adults made their way to the kitchen.

Lora didn’t even have to ask for coffee, it was already made. Amy handed her a cup. She inhaled the fragrant steam, took a sip, and sighed with pleasure. And it was
good
coffee.

Nathan came into the kitchen and gave her a huge grin and a handshake. “I cannot even begin to tell you how good it is to see you again under much more pleasant circumstances,” he said.

She returned his smile, it was impossible not to. “Thank you for having me.”

Halfway through dinner, Lora was on her third cup of coffee, the caffeine happily buzzing in her veins. She had learned that Nicole was a whiz at math, Samantha excelled in English, Amy wanted to open a catering company, and Nathan expected the Chiefs to go to the Super Bowl. She'd also heard the stories of every track and field award Trent had won in high school. And she'd loved every minute of it.

Dessert was a decadent triple chocolate trifle that looked too beautiful to eat. After they'd finished, Lora helped Amy clear the table while Nate and Trent led the girls into the living room to watch TV.

“Let's go to the study,” Amy said, grabbing her wineglass and handing Lora her coffee mug.

Lora followed her to the small cozy room at the end of the hall. The room was filled with a fireplace, two leather recliners, a matching love seat, bookshelves, and a sparkling Christmas tree. As they sat down, Amy sighed deeply.

“Peace and quiet at last,” she said, smiling at Lora.

“How did you and Nate meet?” Lora asked.

Amy smiled down into her wine. “In college. I tried to copy his answers on an algebra test. He let me see his answers, then when we walked out of the classroom, he pulled me aside and gave me a lecture on why cheating was wrong. He said he’d help me study if I needed it, but he’d turn me in if he ever saw me do it again. I laughed at first, thought he was kidding.”

“That’s so cute,” Lora said with a laugh.

“Yeah, it only took two months of study sessions before he asked me out. He was so serious about school. All work and no play. I finally got him to loosen up, though. Of course it still took him four more years to propose.”

Lora raised her brows.

Amy leaned forward, glass of wine in hand. “I don’t know how much Trent’s told you about his history, but they both had it pretty rough growing up, not much love if you know what I mean.”

Trent had, in fact, told her very little about his childhood. Though she knew some general things from his file, many details had been left unsaid. A bad family life, plus Eddie’s drowning, then add in the kidnapping and torture, and it was a wonder the man was still able to function at all, let alone love.

Amy’s eyes softened as if she knew what Lora was thinking, then she squeezed her hand. “He brought you here with him tonight. That says more than you know.”

Lora felt her heart slide closer to the point of no return. Tears threatened and she took a quick swallow of her coffee, not caring that it scalded her throat on the way down. She’d never been comfortable with strong emotions, especially in the last few years. She wasn’t sure if the fact that she and Trent had that in common was a positive or negative in their relationship. Or whatever it was.

“Things in life that are worth it are rarely easy,” Amy said.

Lora laughed, thinking that after years of being one of the guys, she’d finally met a woman she was comfortable being friends with.

Trent looked over at her as they drove away from the Barlow's house. His face was relaxed and happy. Time with his family had been good for him. “See, that wasn't so bad, was it?” he asked

Lora smiled back. “It was fun. They made me feel at home.”

His gaze was serious now, all playfulness gone, as he glanced at her then back at the road. “They really liked you.”

Lora wasn't sure she was ready to think about the implications of that, couldn't allow herself to think about being a part of their family. Not yet. Not with Simon still out there somewhere.

He took her hand in his, but they didn't speak again until he was parked in front of her building. “Want me to come in?” he asked.

“I think I just want to turn in early tonight.” She turned in the seat to face him. “Thank you for today, though.”

He ran his hand across the side of her face and gave her a gentle kiss. “I'll call you tomorrow.”

She nodded, opened the car door, and stepped out into the cold night air.

Inside her condo, she didn't bother turning on the lights, just grabbed a blanket and sat on the floor in front of the tall living room windows.

Being around Trent's family had brought up all kinds of feelings she didn't want to deal with. Family. She really didn't know what one was supposed to be. Despite what Trent and Nathan had been through, Nathan had somehow managed to build something special. The loving bond between husband, wife, and daughters was unmistakable. For the first time in her life, she'd craved that. Marriage, commitment, the whole deal. With Trent.

But the idea was absurd. The thought of having a child terrified her. The responsibility of shaping an innocent life. She didn't even know if she was capable of committing her life to a man, let alone a child.

She wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders, leaned against the wall, and stared out into the night.

Trent jerked to a stop and stared at the charred remains of the kitchen table in front of him, more precisely, at the object on top of the table. He took his helmet off and rubbed his eyes. He had to be imagining things. No. It was still there. His vision tunneled. He felt like he was sinking through the floor.
A dark-haired man underwater in a tank.

No. Just a child's toy. In a fish tank.
Without the fish.

“Find something?” Ted asked, coming up next to him.

Trent was unable to get any words past the tightness in his chest. He couldn't look away from the table. Couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe.

Ted let his concerned gaze linger on Trent's face before looking back down at the table. “I don't see anything …” his voice trailed off, followed quickly by an, “Oh, God.”

“Let's go outside,” Ted said, a firm hand on Trent's arm, leading him away from the table.

Trent stumbled through the front door, bent over with his hands on his knees, and gasped in a breath of the cold dry air. When he stood, Ted didn't see the fear he expected on Trent's face, but barely controlled rage. His instincts warned him to step back, but he took a step closer.

“Was that what I thought it was?” Ted asked.

Trent shook his head. Paced back and forth. Turned towards Ted. “Simon. He did this. Son of a
bitch
.” He shook his head again. “Call Detectives Tatum and Woods,” he said, in the same steely calm voice he used when he was kicking ass in a fire.

“What are you going to do?” Ted asked him.

“I'm going back inside.”

Ted watched his friend go back into the vacant house, then made the radio call. The situation had suddenly changed from an ordinary call to something far darker.

Lora walked into the house, slowly making her way forward through the wet, black rubble that had once been someone's living room, Woods a step behind. “Jesus,” she said as she neared the table.

Woods grunted.

“Hell of a message,” Lora said when he was standing next to her.

“
If
that's what it is,” he said. “And that's a damn big
if
right now.”

“It's a tank, Justice.”

“An aquarium.”

“With a man inside.”

“A doll.”

Lora sighed in frustration. “It's Simon, has to be.”

Woods spun around to face her. “Tate, if you can't remain objective on this, you need to take yourself off the case.”

She shot him a warning look, then turned towards the front door. “I'm going to find Barlow.”

“I'm right here,” Trent said from the doorway to the next room.

She turned. His helmet and jacket were off but he was still wearing his turnout pants and boots. His hair was dirty and sweaty, his jaw covered with dark stubble. God help her, Lora thought, he'd never looked sexier. His face was a bit drawn, but he didn't look too shaken up by what he'd found. He hid it well. The tightness of his jaw and hand on his hip were the only visible signs. Of course, she knew those signs better than most.

Woods looked from one of them to the other then looked down with a small shake of his head.

Lora glared at him then turned back to Trent. “Did you find anything else?”

He motioned towards the table. “Just this.”

“I'm going to need you to come down to the station, fill out some paperwork and we'll go from there.”

“I'll clear it with the chief,” Trent said and nodded at Woods on his way out the front door.

Lora finished filling out the incident report form on the computer, hit the print key, and out of habit reached for her coffee mug, which unfortunately was long empty. She bit back a curse. Took a slow breath. Woods was right. She had to stay objective. This was not the time to show emotions. Focus on the task at hand.

She turned back to Trent, sitting across the desk from her, his knee bouncing up and down. It hadn't been all that long ago that his brother had been sitting right there in that same chair, clinging to the thin thread of hope that Trent was still alive.

She shook her head, signed the form, let out a long slow breath. “Didn't have to be Simon, could have been anybody that knew what happened to you,” she said.

“Either way, someone set a fire because of
me
. It doesn't matter that the house turned out to be vacant. This time.”

There was no mistaking the bitterness in his words or the smoldering anger in his eyes. “It wouldn't be the first time some psycho has gone after someone they read about in the paper,” she said.

Trent held her gaze. “Do you really think this was someone else?”

She rubbed her eyes. “I don't know, Trent. I really don't.” But she
did
know. As sure as she'd known it was Caroline who'd been behind his abduction. Simon had been watching them. Now he was taunting them. Which meant this was far from over.

“I guess we'll find out,” Trent said.

“We will.” She wanted to take his hand, take away the guilt and assure him that everything would be fine, that they'd figure it out together. But she couldn't. Not here. And she had no idea if everything
would
be fine. The one thing she did know, was that she would do her damnedest to figure it all out. And put Simon Hewett or whoever was responsible behind bars for the rest of their natural life.

Trent sighed. There was nothing more he could do at the moment. As much as he hated the helpless feeling in his gut, there really wasn't a damned thing he could do except wait. Lora's eyes met his and held. The look there told him all he needed to know. They were a team. They would get through this together.

His gaze swept around the station. He didn't like the sensation of feeling that everyone else in the room knew more about the situation than he did. Especially Lora. She knew his life story and he knew jack shit about hers. He could tell by the way she was acting that no one, other than her partner, knew about the two of them. While he appreciated her keeping her personal life private, part of him wondered what she'd do if he leaned over her desk and planted a nice big kiss on her right here and now. His eyes skimmed over her cluttered desk, wondering how comfortable it would be.

Lora cleared her throat, her eyes telling him she knew
exactly
what was on his mind. He sat back in the chair.

“Can I see it?” he asked, switching gears.

Lora looked up. “See what?”

“My file.”

She crossed her arms across her chest. “You know I can’t do that, Trent.”

He shrugged. “Had to ask.”

“It doesn't matter anyway.”

“What did you think about me then? Did you think I was dead?”

She leaned forward, all business now. “I refused to believe that.”

“Did you think I was cute?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Trent,” she said in a warning tone.

He arched an eyebrow. “Did you?”

She laughed. “Yes, Mr. Barlow, I found you attractive, but that in no way influenced my investigation into your disappearance.”

Lora kicked her front door shut behind her the next evening, shifted the armload of groceries onto her hip, and deposited the day's mail on her foyer table. She almost stepped on the white envelope lying on the floor before she saw it, thinking at first that she'd dropped a piece of mail. Setting the groceries down in the hallway, she smiled as she picked it up. No stamp, just her first name printed in block letters. Trent must have slid it under her door on his way to work.

She wasn't used to people being there for her. As much as her survival instincts told her to fight against what she was feeling for him, there was no denying that Trent Barlow was a man she could get used to having around. She kicked off her shoes and sat down on the couch to read the note. She sat up straight when she saw the typed words inside.

There was no signature. But she didn't need one. She knew who it was from.

Having a gut feeling that Simon Hewett was still around was one thing. Seeing evidence of it right in front of her eyes was quite another.

Lora was at work when the call came in. She saw Woods answer his phone, watched his face change, heard his voice drop to a thin whisper. Her stomach clenched, the coffee she'd just drunk turning to acid. Something horrible had happened. She stood as he hung up the phone.

“What is it?” she asked, coming around her desk. “Is it your wife or the kids?”

“They're fine,” he said quickly. Too quickly.

“Not Trent,” she whispered

He shook his head. The moment of relief was brief. As soon as his eyes met hers, her stomach dropped even before he said the words. “It's your grandfather.”