She pushed away the accompanying flash of guilt and kept her voice firm. “You have to try. No mind games, all right?”
He nodded, his head still bent. Telepathic would be the best description of the infant ability he’d inherited from his mother, but Sandra had always called it mind games, as if the mental raids she’d made into other people’s heads had been playful entertainment for all involved. As if her gift hadn’t turned their childhood into a war zone.
As if it hadn’t ended up getting Sandra killed.
When her doorbell sounded the next afternoon, Meghan glanced at the clock, faintly surprised by the hour. Her schedule had undergone major adjustments since Danny had come to live with her. The only time she had in her home studio were the hours he was at school. Every minute was precious, especially with a deadline looming for her next project. But it was almost time for Callie, who lived down the hall, to drop Danny off. She must be running a little early.
The bell rang again before Meghan reached the door and pulled it open. “Boy, you’re eager to get rid of him today. Don’t tell me he…” The rest of the words died in her throat as she found herself face-to-face with two men; one a stranger and the other all too familiar.
“This is Detective Madison, Miss Patterson.” Her gaze flying to Connally’s, Meghan knew she hadn’t imagined the slight inflection he’d given her name. The smile he gave her was humorless. “And I’m going to assume you remember my name, even though you had a little difficulty with your own yesterday.”
Her palms went damp, and she barely resisted an urge to wipe them on her loose-fitting shirt. The force of his presence struck her anew. His eyes were hard and inscrutable. They seemed to drill through her, effortlessly shredding all pretense, all subterfuge. Somehow she’d never imagined that Connally would bother to go to the trouble of finding her. Of finding Danny.
It was that thought that had tension gripping her muscles. Her chin angled up and she met his gaze. “Being a detective, you should have concluded that I gave you a false name yesterday because I wanted to avoid just this kind of harassment.”
“Being a detective,” Connally countered, “I get kinda suspicious when people go to such lengths to avoid talking to me. We had to trace you through the cab company you used.”
Meghan set her lips, but remained silent. She wasn’t sure what kind of tack to take with the detective. Defiance didn’t seem to work. Nor had her phony compliance yesterday. He didn’t appear to be a man who gave up easily. In contrast to his partner’s lived-in face, with its homely charm, this man’s features could have been carved from granite. She was beginning to believe that he had a will to match.
Surreptitiously, she glanced at her watch. Danny would be home in minutes. It was imperative that she get rid of the detectives before then.
“I’m afraid I don’t have much time.” Even as she spoke, Connally seemed to loom closer, and she retreated in immediate, involuntary response. Then somehow the men were standing inside her doorway, although she’d had no intention of letting them in. She thought she caught a flash of satisfaction in Connally’s pale eyes before he closed the door behind him, and the sight of it stiffened her spine.
Her gaze swung to Detective Madison, who was speaking for the first time. “Sorry for the interruption. You didn’t answer your buzzer, but the super told us that he hadn’t seen you go out today. He let us in.”
With a firmer grip on her composure now, Meghan pasted a polite smile on her face. “I’m afraid Detective Connally has wasted your time. I already told him yesterday that I hadn’t seen anything while I was at the toy store.”
“It’s real important that we find the man we’re tracing, ma’am.” Madison’s voice had a placating quality that his partner’s lacked. “You left Favorite Things kind of suddenly last night. We just wanted to follow up to see if maybe you’d remembered something since then.”
“Mind telling us why you were in such a hurry to get away?” Connally’s gaze was directed above her head as he surveyed her apartment, before focusing once more on her.
She forced a casual shrug. “I’d arranged for the driver to come back for us. You know what it’s like to find a cab at that time of day.”
“That’s sure a fact, isn’t it?” Detective Madison’s tone was understanding. “Last week I tried to take my wife out for a nice dinner and we had a devil of a time getting a taxi back home. She said it would have been more relaxing to stay in and cook.”
His easy manner should have disarmed her. There was something comfortable about the man, like a rumpled set of clothes kept long after they’d gone out of style. His thinning sandy-colored hair was brushed back from a broad forehead, and his slightly rounded shoulders made him seem smaller than his partner, although they were probably both over six feet. But the friendliness in his voice, in his pale-gray eyes, didn’t eliminate her wariness. In her experience all cops wanted something. And some would go to deadly lengths to get it.
“Did you buy anything last night?” At the question she shifted her attention to observe Connally strolling around her living room. “It looked like an unusual place. I guess kids go nuts for that kind of thing.”
“No, I didn’t. And as I told you yesterday, I didn’t notice the man you were looking for while I was in the store, either. Sorry I can’t be of more help to you.” Although her words were meant to bring a close to the conversation, neither of the men made a move to leave.
“What about the boy?”
The words hung in the air like leaden crystals suspended from a chandelier. She didn’t answer; couldn’t. Protecting Danny was her job now. And the threat these two men posed was nauseating in its familiarity. She wouldn’t allow him to be used as his mother had been. She wouldn’t risk his life the way Sandra had so carelessly risked her own.
When silence stretched, Madison said, “Detective Connally said you had a small boy with you, Miss Patterson. Maybe he saw something.”
“My nephew was with me, yes. But he’s only five. He isn’t going to be of any help, either, I’m afraid.”
The two men exchanged a glance. “We’d still like to talk to him. Could you arrange that?” Connally’s words may have been couched as a request, but they were delivered in a voice accustomed to giving orders. And having them obeyed.
“No.” Her voice was flat. The detective wasn’t the only one who could be indomitable. “That won’t be—”
The doorbell rang then, interrupting her. Frustration surged. Just five more minutes. That’s all it would have taken to get rid of the men. The detectives were watching her expectantly. Mentally cursing the cosmic timing, she went to the door.
“Trying to pretend you aren’t home won’t save you.” Callie’s laughing words sounded above Danny’s exuberant greeting. “Remember, I have a…” Her sentence trailed off when she saw the two men with Meghan.
“Hi, Aunt Meggie. I gotta go!” With a five-year-old’s sense of urgency, Danny made a beeline for the bathroom.
“Ah…I’ll catch you later. We’re still on for tonight, right?” At Meghan’s nod, Callie placed a hand on her son Alex’s back to guide him toward their apartment. “Tell Danny I’ll see him later.” Meghan closed the door after them.
A compelling need to speak to Danny warred with an equally strong reluctance to leave the detectives alone in her living room, even for a few minutes. She didn’t trust them. The last few months had destroyed any unquestioning faith she might have once had in the police. And Connally, especially,