Page 23 of Delivering David

“We make a good team,” Suzanne agreed, starting the dish washer. She looked up and found Kristopher standing next to her. This close she was able to inhale the comforting smell of soap and a faint woodsy scent that reminded her of autumn days. It was a comforting scent and Suzanne suddenly realized she felt safe. Still worried, but safe.

“I haven’t thanked you,” she said shyly.

His eyebrows rose. “For what?

“Taking care of me.”

He shrugged. “That’s what I’m supposed to do. No need to thank me for doing my job.”

“I’ll bet there might have been more exciting assignments,” she teased.

“I was already in Knoxville, remember?” he said. “So, it made sense for me to take the case.”

“And you knew Mercy and David, so taking this case was important to you,” she added but his expression suggested this might not be the time to talk about that. “Do you have family here?”

He hesitated and after a long pause, said, “Yeah. My parents are here. But we’re not exactly on speaking terms. Even after all this time, they still disapprove of my decisions to become a cop and join the Army. I spent the holiday in Townsend with another BP member and his fiancée. Nice and peaceful.”

His flat tone tugged at her heart, and she offered up the only reply she could think of. “Should I say I’m sorry?”

“No,” he said, the ancient hurt darkening his eyes. “I’m ok with it.”

“Well, I’m still grateful,” she said, not really believing him. Standing on her toes, she kissed him on the cheek. “You seem like a nice guy, even if you can’t cook.”

His arms slipped around her, and she leaned into him. Staring down at her, he said, “But I make really good coffee, don’t you think?”

“Really good,” she agreed, lifting her head to accept his sudden kiss. It was warm and sweet, tasting of breakfast honey and was completely delicious and she wondered what the rest of him might taste like.

After a moment, he pulled back. “Two kisses in twenty-four hours. I think we’re getting way ahead of ourselves,” he said. “I mean, we just met.”

Heat flamed Suzanne’s face. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “You’re right. Lots for us to do.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, his fingers brushing her cheek. “We just need to stay focused.”

The sound of someone singing,Who Let the Dogs Out?had them stepping back just as Bailey entered. His eyes did a quick study of them and Suzanne had no doubts he knew exactly what was going on. “So” he asked, sliding his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “What’s the plan?”

CHAPTER 18

“I’mglad Grant is available to meet us at the youth shelter,” Kristopher said as they drove towards South Knoxville. “He’s probably got more on his plate than he can grace over, it being the holidays.”

“Me too,” Suzanne agreed. “And I’m especially interested in hearing Sofia Langley’s impressions of Mercy’s last visit. She’s the shelter’s day supervisor and I know her from volunteering at a local food bank. She’s waiting on us.”

“Can she be trusted?” Kristopher gazed in the rearview mirror at the two-lane highway. Grant Miller’s black sedan was several cars behind them. The man preferred non-descript vehicles and often said, “Who remembers a plain black car?”

“Absolutely,” Suzanne said. “Her adult son has a learning disorder, and I placed him in a training program for disabled adults atDaisy’,a local café years ago. And Sofia is as honest as the day is long. She knows Grant too.”

“But won’t there be kids at the shelter? Kristopher asked. “I remember from my days on the KPD force, that holidays can be a bad time for families and their kids. Lots of alcohol and drug use, lots of arguments and hurt feelings. It can be a bad time for families, and kids often have to be removed from their homes and placed in emergency shelters.”

“That’s what Mercy often told me,” Suzanne said. “Case managers hate removing kids from their homes during the holidays unless there’s no other option. But unless some kids were admitted yesterday, Mercy said there were no kids there and Sofia said she told Grant the same thing, which is weird considering the holiday.”

“The whole case is weird,” Kristopher said. “Do you think other case managers took out their kids after the Clark sisters were gone? Kids in foster care talk about stuff. Maybe they asked to be moved because the Campbell sisters told them what they saw.”

Suzanne massaged her hands. She’d forgotten her gloves, and even though the car’s interior was warm, her hands were still cold. “I don’t know,” she said. “Kids in foster care can be sneaky. When you grow up in the system, you learn a lot of valuable skills like that.”

“You were going to tell me about that.” Kristopher checked his mirror again. Grant was now two cars behind them.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll give you the edited version. My parents were alcoholics. My grandparents on both sides tried to take care of me but they all had serious health problems, so I first went into foster care when I was eight years old. My parents would get sober for a while and petition for me, and I’d go back to them. But they always start drinking again and make me stay home from school to take care of them or clean the house ‘cause that’s what I was supposed to do. So back to foster care I went. The state finally terminated their parental rights when I was twelve.”

Her tone was matter of fact, as if like Kristopher, she’d long ago accepted her family situation, no matter how badly it sucked. But foster care at eight? Becoming a ward of the state at twelve because your parents couldn’t get their shit together to raise you? Recalling her question to him from this morning, he asked, “Should I say I’m sorry?”

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