Crime scene secrets, p.8
Crime Scene Secrets, page 8
“I think so, too.” She seemed genuinely delighted he’d asked.
“How are you getting a PhD while working full-time for the crime lab?” he asked. “Why not finish your PhD first?”
“Because I couldn’t afford to,” she said. Although they’d moved back into darkness, he could still hear the smile in her voice. “PhDs are expensive and I always wanted to work with the crime lab. I did get an amazing scholarship that covers some of the cost, but it doesn’t cover basic living expenses and it requires me to hit some pretty rigorous deadlines. As hard as it is to do both at the same time, it would be even harder to give up on one of my dreams. Even if it doesn’t leave any time for anything else.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he said. “I’m juggling my work with the MCK9 Task Force, the FBI and taking care of Brody.” He felt a rueful smile cross his lips. “I love that little guy with my entire heart and would do anything for him. I just hope when he looks back on his life, he’ll always know I loved him and not feel like he missed out on anything because his father was off chasing serial killers.”
Rocky stopped walking suddenly and sat. Kyle looked around to realize their long, meandering walk had finally led back to his front door. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone for a quiet nighttime stroll with anyone, let alone anyone whose company he enjoyed quite that much. And there was a good reason for that.
“If I’m honest,” he said, “I know I keep saying I don’t have time for a life outside of work and Brody, but it’s deeper than that. I don’t want drama that’s going to impact my life and his. I don’t want to go through all the ups and downs of even trying to date anyone. Remember how I told you a few hours ago that my brother was the brave one and I always admired that about him?”
“I do.” Ophelia nodded.
“Well, I think the bravest thing he ever did was choosing to get married and have a family. My dad was really terrible. He drank and yelled and treated my mother like trash. Finally, she left him when Kevin and I were still in elementary school. But he’d still show up drunk and try to start fights, or he’d call from jail when he needed someone to bail him out, until finally he ended his own life when I was twenty-two.”
He hadn’t even realized that he’d crossed his arms tightly across his chest, until he felt Ophelia reach for his hand. Gently she brushed her fingers along his and there was something about the simple gesture that said more than a thousand words ever could.
“I’m not afraid I’ll ever turn into a man like my father.” Slowly he unfolded his arms, took her hand and squeezed it for a long moment, before letting it go. “What scares me is knowing an incredible woman like my mother somehow fell in love with someone who made us so miserable. I never want to put Brody through anything like that. Not even the whole uncertainty of dating and breakups. He deserves certainty and stability, and I need to give him that.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Ophelia said.
“Well, thanks for listening,” he said. “I don’t tend to open up to people but you’re really easy to talk to.”
“You are, too.”
They walked up the driveway and into the house, where Rocky promptly wandered off down the hall in the direction of Brody’s room, probably to look for Taffy. Kyle had expected his mom to be waiting up for them in the open-concept living room/dining room. But it was empty except for a handwritten note from Alice to Ophelia welcoming her to their home and telling her where to find anything she might need. She’d also left a tray of hot lavender tea and homemade pound cake for Ophelia in her room.
She thanked him again, and he knew he should say good-night, but instead he stood there, with her blue-eyed gaze looking up into his face as he awkwardly went over all the same things, from mugs to towels, that he was sure his mom had mentioned in her note.
“The master bedroom is on the opposite side of the house than the other two bedrooms,” he said and pointed, “and has its own bathroom. There should be a charger by the bed you can use for your phone. Mom’s room and Brody’s room are down that way. We tend to get up really early and I have a team meeting via video chat at eight. I’d really like you to be there and a part of it. Not just because you have a connection to Jared and there’s a good possibility you’ll be able to get vital information about this murder we won’t be able to get any other way, but also because I really appreciate your professional insight.”
“You don’t know how much it’s meant to me to spend some time talking with someone who really understands my work,” she said. “Evelyn and Jared don’t get it. They think it’s weird at best and gross at worst, and I feel sometimes like they’re embarrassed of me.”
“Are you kidding?” Kyle said. “Ophelia, in case I haven’t made myself clear by now, I think you are an absolutely incredible crime scene investigator. I’m overjoyed every time I know you’re processing one of my crime scenes because it means that nothing is going to get missed and everything is going to go smoothly. Because you’re good. You’re like really, really good at your job. You should feel proud. Don’t ever let anyone take that from you.”
Her lips parted as if his rambling words had suddenly robbed her of her breath. For a long moment she didn’t say anything. Then she dropped her bag, threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.
“Thanks,” she said. “I really needed that.”
“Well, it’s true.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest, blindsided by just how perfect and wonderful it felt to have her in his arms. Then slowly they both pulled away, their fingertips brushing as they stepped apart.
“Good night, Agent West,” she said. “I think you’re pretty incredible at your job, too.”
“Thank you.” He smiled. “Good night, CSI Clarke.”
Then she picked up her bag, turned and walked down the hallway, leaving him standing there wondering why his heart was racing.
* * *
She expected to toss and turn the way she normally did, as her busy mind struggled to slow down and rest. After all, a criminal had broken into her home. But maybe Alice’s kind snack of pound cake and tea had settled her stomach. Or there was just something safe and comforting about being in Kyle’s home. So as she lay there in the darkness and prayed, still in the same gray tracksuit, she found a peace that surpassed her own understanding sweeping through her heart, and Ophelia fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.
She woke hours later to the sound of tiny feet pattering up and down the hallway outside her door, along with a chorus of jingling dog tags and a child’s laughter. Ophelia sat up slowly and stretched, thanking God for her good night’s sleep and the safe haven she’d found. Sun streamed through a large window that looked out on a toy-strewn backyard. The bed itself had simple wooden frame and a beautiful handmade quilt that had somehow been cozy without being too hot for a June Santa Fe night. The sounds of footsteps and giggling stopped suddenly with a muffled thud that seemed to hit the door.
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood.
“Is everyone, okay?” she called.
“We okay!” a small voice chirped from the other side of the door.
She smiled. “You sure?”
“Yeah!” More giggles.
She crossed the floor and opened the door to see a small barefoot boy in firefighter pajamas and the puppy who looked like a miniature of Rocky sprawled on the floor.
“Why, hello,” she said.
The boy and dog untangled themselves. Taffy licked her fingers. The small dog’s tail wagged rapid-fire from one side to the other. Brody looked at Ophelia skeptically.
She crouched down until she was eye level with the toddler.
“You must be Brody,” she said softly. “I’m your daddy’s work friend. My name is Ophelia.”
“O’Felly,” Brody repeated, confidently. He frowned. “You not sleeping.”
She assumed someone had told him that she was and so had instructed him to be quiet.
“No, I’m not sleeping now,” she agreed. “But I was sleeping before. So thank you for being so good and quiet.”
“Yes!” He nodded as if agreeing with her assessment. A huge smile spread across the small boy’s face.
Seemed she’d hit upon the right answer. “It’s nice to meet you.”
She stretched out her hand to shake his. He slapped it hard in an enthusiastic and cheerful high five, and then took off running back down the hall again with Taffy at his heels.
She stood up slowly and watched them scamper, feeling something warm and soft glow inside her chest. So, that was Brody. He was absolutely adorable. Just as the little boy reached the living room, turned around and was about to run back toward her, Kyle appeared from somewhere out of view, scooped Brody into his arms and lifted up him.
“I good!” Brody told him, loudly.
“You often are,” Kyle said, with a chuckle.
Then he glanced from the squirming toddler in his arms, down the hall to where Ophelia still stood in the doorway.
“Good morning,” he called. “How did you sleep?”
“A lot better than I was expecting.” She ran her fingers through her long and tangled hair.
“I hope we didn’t wake you,” Kyle said.
“No, not at all,” she said.
“I’m glad.” He shifted Kyle around onto his hip. “I’m about to feed the kid and dogs, then make some scrambled eggs and toast for myself, if that’s okay by you. I’ve already put the coffee on. It should be ready in a moment.”
“Sounds wonderful,” she said.
Brody wriggled in Kyle’s grasp.
“Daddy! Down!” he ordered. Kyle broke her gaze and set Brody on the floor. “Want outside!”
“Later,” he said. “You can play outside after breakfast and Daddy’s video call.”
She closed the door, leaned against it and pressed her hand to her chest. She could feel her heartbeat racing against her palm as if she’d just run a marathon. Whatever this was that she was feeling right now, she had to nip it in the bud and fast. It was one thing to fall into a strong man’s supportive arms in a moment of crisis. It was another thing to let herself stay there—especially when the last thing he wanted was a relationship and the last thing she needed was to let herself be distracted from her work. The opportunity she’d been given through getting a funding grant for her PhD was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. She’d never have been able to afford it without help, and if she lost this grant she couldn’t imagine ever landing another one.
She might not have wanted to be a bridesmaid but had even less desire to be seen as a damsel in distress who relied on someone like Kyle to save her and risked blowing her PhD grant and life goals over some foolish romantic attraction. She shuddered to think how Kyle—a man who’d told her repeatedly that he wasn’t looking for a relationship—would react if he knew she had a bit of a crush on him. He’d be uncomfortable. Maybe even horrified. Especially if he thought she was at risk of putting her crush on him above her career and studies. Either way, it wouldn’t exactly help her career if one of the top FBI agents in New Mexico decided he didn’t want her working on his cases.
She could still hear Kyle’s cheerful voice coming from the large living room and kitchen area as he called to the dogs that breakfast was ready, and the clatter of paws and dog tags as Rocky and Taffy ran to their bowls. Brody’s voice babbled in a cheerful mixture of real words and nonsense.
Her phone was fully charged from having been plugged in the night before. She already had a message from her boss at the crime lab, telling her that he’d heard about the shooting at the ranch and not to worry about coming in for work if she needed to take the day off. Not that she was planning on taking him up on that. Then there was the fact that Jared and Gabrielle were still supposed to get married that night.
Lord, please help me just focus on the tasks at hand and get through them.
Framed pictures hung on the wall across from the bed of a happy couple on their wedding day, who she assumed were Brody’s parents, both by themselves and with a beaming Kyle and Alice. Another showed Kevin and Kyle with their arms around each other as teenagers and still another showed Kyle’s sister-in-law with baby Brody in her arms.
A sudden wash of pain swept over Ophelia’s heart as she remembered the stories Kyle had told her the night before. Alice had been hurt by her husband. Kyle and Kevin had lost their father. Then Brody had lost his parents.
Lord, they’ve seen so much loss and yet they’ve never let their hearts grow angry and bitter. Bless them, dear God. Help me to be a blessing to them. Please help us all solve these terrible murders before somebody else gets hurts. Help me to honor You and do my utmost whatever this case throws at me next. And please, keep my heart and mind from all distractions.
Including a handsome face with dark and fathomless eyes.
It was almost fifteen minutes later when she’d finished getting changed into the slacks and top she kept in her gym bag, packed up her stuff and walked back out into the living room and kitchen area. Her lab didn’t open until nine, and even then, she wasn’t expected in. She placed a quick call to her boss, got his voice mail, and left a message saying there’d been a break-in at her house the night before and she didn’t have access to her laptop but that all of her research was saved on a secure cloud server. She then called the electric company who said they’d have someone out right away to check on the power at her house, and her regular mechanic who said he’d get one of his guys to pop over and replace her tires. Both assured her she didn’t have to be there and they’d take care of it. She felt relieved.
Then, finally she walked into the main room to find Kyle sitting at the head of the kitchen table facing the back deck, with his laptop open in front of him and Rocky sitting by his feet. To his left, Brody sat in his high chair pushing around serial squares and banana pieces on the tray, occasionally dropping one over the edge for roly-poly Taffy to scramble after. The chair to his right was empty but set with a beautiful yellow place mat, cutlery and a glass of orange juice.
He stood as she walked into the room. So did Rocky.
“There you are,” Kyle said with a grin and for a long moment his eyes seemed to linger on her face. “There are eggs in the griddle and coffee in the pot. There’s bread in the toaster, too, but I didn’t pop it down so that it wouldn’t be cold by the time you were ready for it.” He ran both hands along the side of his jeans. “I’m sorry it’s not much, but we weren’t expecting company.”
“Don’t worry, it’s absolutely wonderful,” Ophelia said. “I can’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal. Most nights I just put something from the grocery-store freezer section into the microwave. Then I fall asleep reading and end up grabbing a yogurt and cup of coffee on the way out the door.”
Another reason why dating was out of the question. What man wanted to come over on a Friday night to pull back the plastic wrap on a frozen entrée?
“Well, I never mind cooking,” Kyle said. “It’s the one thing that relaxes me. Mom and I have worked out a pretty good pattern here of divvying up the chores inside the house. It’s the yard work that gets to me, because Mom can’t do it while watching Brody and by the time I get home it’s dark.”
“That’s the one thing I am good at,” Ophelia said. “Because I listen to research and audio books for my PhD for hours on the weekend while I weed and mow.”
“Maybe we should start trading yard work for leftovers,” Kyle said, with a chuckle. He ran his hand over the back of his neck. “Anyway, I set a place for you to come join us at the table when you’re ready.”
She walked into the kitchen area, poured herself a cup of coffee, added a dash of cream and inhaled the aroma deeply.
“I’ve already got through to the power company and my mechanic,” she said. “They both assure me they’ll be out soon.”
“Good,” Kyle said. “I was going to call them myself and then figured it was better I check with you first. My mom’s running errands now. Knowing her, she’ll come back with enough food to feed an army.”
Then he frowned slightly.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, I hope so,” he said. “My mom’s been going to the pharmacy a lot recently. Specifically, one on the other side of town. She assures me there’s nothing to worry about and the pharmacist there is just really good at recommending vitamins and supplements for her joint stiffness, but I worry.”
“I get that,” Ophelia said. “Truth is, I’m really worried about my great-aunt Evelyn. Before everything kicked off yesterday with the murder of John Doe, I had the odd sense that something was wrong and she was worried. But she wouldn’t talk about it.”
She scooped some scrambled eggs onto a plate she found waiting for her on the counter, then popped a bite into her mouth. Sprinkled with some kind of spice and cheese, the eggs were delicious. She topped up her coffee and then carried her plate around to the empty place waiting for her at the table. She sat.
“Evelyn was a model when she was younger,” she said, “and did a lot of regional pageants and briefly ran charm classes for young women. She really values putting on a good face and isn’t the kind of person who complains or would open up about something that’s bothering her. But if she did know something—anything at all—that she thought could be related to the murder in the barn, I know she wouldn’t hesitate to tell the police.” She sighed. “As you know, I called her last night before the intruder broke in. And I don’t want to tell her about that, because she will be beside herself with worry. I don’t want to upset her that badly. Or steal the thunder from Jared’s wedding day, if he’s still getting married today.”
“I hope for their sake the death of John Doe had nothing to do with their wedding,” he said. “Although sadly we can’t rule that out. But I did have a quick chat with Patricia this morning and she told me everyone was fine overnight at the hotel and that she’d email me an update on their end of the case soon. I’ve got to jump in a video call meeting with my team in a few minutes. I’ve already briefed Chase quickly over the phone, so they should be up to speed more or less, on what happened that night. After we wrap up, we’ll see about heading back to your house. I don’t think you should go back there alone.”
