“It’s not quite that bad, though I do have to admit that hearing Mom talk about what a nice butt he has gave me the wilies.”
Caleb saw them watching him, so he picked up Taylor and headed their way.
“Taylor likes him, which is a good sign. Is it serious?” asked Jenny.
“Dead serious.”
Caleb split his attention between Lana’s art lesson and Kara. He didn’t trust the woman, and Lana’s reaction to her was only making him more suspicious.
He phoned Monroe and had him run a quick background check on her. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Her record was clean other than a single speeding ticket.
Stil, something was off. Caleb moved to a quiet corner and dialed Grant. “Got any men to spare for surveilance duty?” he asked.
“Sure. Lana?”
“No. Another woman.”
“You dog,” said Grant.
“This is serious.”
“Okay, okay. Give me details.”
Caleb gave him Kara’s car make, model, and license plate and her address from the background check. “Keep an eye on her?”
“I’m on it.” Grant hung up, and Caleb went back to the group.
The finger painting went on in messy glee as the kids smeared globs of color over giant sheets of paper. They were cute wearing too-large men’s shirts that hung over their smal frames like tents, protecting their clothes. One young girl in particular caught Caleb’s eye. Her long braided pigtails reminded him of his sister, Hannah, when she was five.
She had a smear of pink paint on one cheek, and she was frowning in concentration as she tried to place one more perfect petal on her flower.
Lana crouched down beside the girl and said something Caleb couldn’t hear. The girl listened carefuly, as if Lana was teling her the secret of life. A minute later, Lana produced a paintbrush from the smock she wore over her clothes and handed it to the girl. The little girl’s eyes brightened, and she took the brush as if it were a delicate instrument. Lana guided her hand over the paper, and after a moment, the flower had a set of neat petals. The girl’s smile was wide as Lana left her with the new toy and came to stand beside him.
“Tina has advanced beyond mere fingers,” said Lana, grinning as she watched the girl.
“I see. A Picasso in training.”
Lana wrinkled her nose. “I see more Monet than Picasso in her.”
Caleb felt a smile stretch his mouth. “The kids love you.”
She shrugged. “It’s easy to love someone who gives you a fun place to play.”
“It’s more than that.”
“Yes, but they don’t need to know that. Not at this age. Just let them play.”
Caleb watched as Tina carefuly dipped the brush in green paint and went after the leaves of her flower with the same intense concentration she did the petals. “Tina looks more like she’s working than playing.”
Lana’s ful mouth flattened with sadness. “She’s had it rough. Her dad’s in prison. She spent the first several years of her life in the room next to the one where her mom turned tricks to make ends meet.”
Caleb couldn’t imagine doing that to a child, and he was torn between anger at Tina’s mother and sympathy that life had backed her into a corner where she thought she had no choice. “And now?”
Lana sighed. “Her mom is stil a prostitute, but at least Tina doesn’t have to listen.”
“That’s something, I guess.”
“That’s what I keep teling myself. I can’t fix al the world’s problems, but at least I can do some good. I just hope that I get to keep doing it.”
Caleb’s arm was around her before he even realized it moved. She felt good there, and he was getting way too familiar with the feel of her body against his. “We’l find a way to make the auction happen.”
“I don’t know how. I can’t find any hotel wiling to rent us space for what I can pay.”
“So why not use this place? It’s big enough to hold a crowd, and there’s that giant basebal field outside.”
“This place isn’t swanky enough for the kind of crowd we’l be puling in.”
“So pul in a different crowd. Aim to attract the middle class rather than the rich folks.”
“But I need the rich folks and al their nice money,” said Lana.
“You can earn just as much money if you attract a larger crowd of not-so-rich people.”
“But how do I do that? I’m not a fundraising genius, no matter how many books I read. This is the only thing that’s ever worked for me in the past.”
“What about a carnival instead of an art auction? You might even be able to draw in more kids if their parents see what good work you’re doing.”
“I wouldn’t know the first thing about setting up a carnival.”
“It just so happens that my buddy Grant and I do. We’ve helped with two carnivals for the families at Fort Bragg, and they both were big hits.” They hadn’t been large carnivals, but she didn’t need to know that. He was sure he could pul this off.
“I don’t have the money to rent rides and I’m not entirely convinced they’re safe, anyway.”
“No rides, then. Just some games and plenty of junk food.”
She looked up at him with a hopeful expression. “You realy think something like that could earn money?”
“I know it can. If you want, have the art auction be part of the event. Not everyone who’s rich is too snobby to show up just because it’s not a nice banquet room.”
He could see his idea growing on her. Those blue eyes sparkled as excitement took over the fear that seemed to lurk constantly under the surface.
“Okay, we’l try it.”
“What do you have to lose?” he asked.
Lana didn’t answer.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Stacie looked stronger today, her color better. Lana came to visit bearing pizza and a stack of magazines she’d seen Stacie reading during her lunch break. Caleb was a silent shadow at her back, and she’d nearly gotten used to having him around. It was dangerous to become accustomed to his company, but she couldn’t think of any way around it, not that she’d tried very hard.
“You’re an angel,” said Stacie, eyeing the magazines. “I’ve been bored out of my mind today. Wel, the part of it that I wasn’t asleep, anyway.”
Lana puled the roling table nearby and helped Stacie raise the head of the bed. “You should be getting your rest.”
“Oh, I’m getting plenty of that. They’ve had me walking around a bit today, and it’s worn me out both times.”
“Do you know when they’re going to release you yet?” asked Caleb.
“Probably not tomorrow, but maybe the day after.”
“Do you have anyone who can help you at home?” he asked.
Lana hadn’t even thought that far ahead, and she felt horrible that her head had been so ful of her own problems. “I’l come stay with you,” offered Lana.
“No, dear. You’ve got the auction to worry about. Besides, I caled my sister, and she’s going to fly in for a few days.”
“I didn’t even know you had a sister,” said Lana.
Stacie gave her a sad smile. “We haven’t spoken in years. It seems foolish now that I’d let a little squabble get in the way. I figured I’d been stubborn long enough. Al Sarah needed was an invitation back into my life and she was on the next flight out.”
“You shouldn’t have to deal with any uncomfortable family issues on top of your injury.”
Stacie took Lana’s hand. Her skin felt cool and thin. “If being shot brings Sarah back into my life, it’s more than worth it. Sometimes it’s the tragedies that bring people together.” Stacie’s eyes slid to Caleb, just briefly, but Lana saw it.
Lana wasn’t sure Stacie was right, but she didn’t want to argue with the woman while she was lying there in a hospital bed. “If you need anything, just let me know,” said Lana.
“When Sarah gets here, I’l have everything I need.”
They shared pizza, and Lana could see Stacie tiring before her eyes. “We’re going to leave and let you get some rest, but you’l cal if you need anything, right?”
“I wil. I promise. Oh, and tel Kara thanks for the flowers, wil you? She left them while I was sleeping.”
“Kara was here?” asked Lana.
“That’s what the nurse said. I felt bad that I didn’t wake up for her visit.”
Lana could picture Kara standing over Stacie’s bed, watching her sleep. Helpless. Alone.
“I’l tel her,” lied Lana as she hurried out of the room. Stacie was fine. She kept teling herself that over and over, but it didn’t make that sick feeling in her stomach go away.
She had to get out of here—away from the stench of death and pain and hopelessness. She felt Caleb’s silent bulk at her back, keeping pace with her rushed steps.
When Lana passed through the automatic doors of the hospital, she puled in the clean night air, trying to drive out the hospital stench that filed her lungs.
“You okay?” he asked.
Her limbs were shaking, but she managed a weak nod.
As if he’d heard her thoughts, Caleb took her hand and twined his fingers through hers. Such a smal thing, but it offered so much comfort. Skin against skin. Human contact.
“I’m worried about her,” said Lana, feeling the relief of being able to speak the truth, even if it wasn’t the whole truth.
“She seems to be recovering wel.”
“I know. I mean I’m worried that whoever did this to her wil try to come back and finish the job.”
Caleb puled her to a halt and ran his hands over her bare arms. She hadn’t realized until now that she was covered in goose bumps. “I can post a guard outside her door if it wil make you feel better.”
“It would.”
Caleb nodded and made a brief phone cal. He gave an order for a guard and said Stacie’s room number. As easily as that, Stacie was protected.
“Better?” he asked her.
“Yes. Thank you.”
They got into his car, having left hers behind so it could also be checked for listening or tracking devices. “Where to now?” asked Caleb.
Lana’s brain ground to a halt. She couldn’t go back home, not with the knowledge that the place might stil be bugged. She didn’t want to sleep in the office, because she knew she’d spend the night thinking about Stacie’s attack. She didn’t have the money to stay in a hotel, and she wasn’t about to sleep in her car. “I don’t know.”
He hadn’t started the engine yet, and inside the car it was quiet. The darkness outside was driven away by the bright lights of the parking lot, leaving deep pockets of shadows over the car’s interior. Caleb turned sideways in his seat, adjusting his big body beneath the wheel. “I don’t want to leave you alone tonight,” he told her. “Wherever you go, I go.”
She’d have been lying to herself if she pretended not to be relieved that she wouldn’t have to be alone with her nightmares. He’d been with her twice during those dreams and hadn’t shown any sign he was disgusted by her weakness. She knew he was a good actor, but she preferred to believe he was being honest. “Maybe Mr. Simmons wil let me use another apartment tonight.”