Page 23 of Dangerous December
Replacing a leaky faucet at Sloane House shouldn’t have required much talent or time.
Fixing it with two older gents offering both running commentary and plentiful advice, plus one stern womanwatching him with a hawk-eyed glare lest he run off with the dish soap, added a whole new dimension to the project.
But it was the wide-eyed boy hiding in the shadows who held Dev’s full attention.
Cody’s expression was still wary. Yet despite that brief encounter at the bookstore yesterday, when his mother had freaked out at Dev’s arrival, there was curiosity and even a hint of longing in those dark eyes—as if he wanted to draw closer but didn’t dare.
Since coming back to Agate Creek, Dev had fended off most of the friendly overtures that had come his way, more comfortable in self-imposed isolation than at the prospect of blending into the fabric of a community he couldn’t wait to leave. What would be the point, after all?
Protecting the vulnerable, fighting for justice, and putting his life on the line were pretty much the limits of his skill set, but there was something about Cody that he couldn’t ignore.
“Hey, kid,” he called over his shoulder as he knelt in front of the open cabinet under the kitchen sink. “You look plenty strong. I could use some help. Got a minute?”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Cody waver, then shoot a hesitant glance at Carl. When Carl nodded to him, he edged forward, still keeping a careful distance.
With the wrench in his hand, Dev gestured toward the old toolbox he’d found out in the garage. “Can you hand me a wrench the next size up from this one? Here—take this one over to compare.”
The boy limped forward and gingerly sorted through the toolbox, withdrew a wrench, and offered it with both hands.
“Perfect—first try. Thanks, buddy.” Dev finished installing the sprayer hose, rocked back on his heels. and stood. “Let’s see if this works. Want to give it a try?”
Cody leaned across the sink and grabbed for the sprayer nozzle.
Carl chuckled. “Careful!”
Too late.When Cody’s hand tightened around it, a spray of water shot from the nozzle and caught Dev square in the midsection. The boy jumped back as if he’d touched an electric wire, his face a mask of shock and fear.
The kitchen was chilly, and the water was ice-cold. But his automatic exclamation of surprise caught in Dev’s throat at the expression on Cody’s face—as if he expected to be backhanded, or worse.
There was a moment of utter stillness, with Frank, Carl, and Reva’s attention riveted on Dev.
He laughed, breaking the tension. “I wasn’t planning on a shower quite yet, but that’s okay. What do you think, Cody—want to help me pick up the old parts? Maybe you can help carry them outside. I’ll bet you know where the toolbox belongs, too.”
Cody stood frozen for a heartbeat, then he rushed to pick up the old washers and faucet parts, and went out the side door leading into the garage. Dev lifted the toolbox and started after him.
Frank and Carl both nodded in approval and patted Dev’s shoulder as they stepped back to let him pass by.
“You’ll do,” Carl said under his breath. “You’ll do just fine.”
Even Reva wore the faintest trace of a smile.
“Just like your daddy,” she murmured. “He was a good man.”
Carl’s gentle touch and words of praise had felt almost like...a benediction. But Reva’s words burned at the edges of Dev’s heart.
The old fear was still there, an ember that had never faded. Just to make sure it never had a chance to grow, he had long since made a decision.
His marriage had failed. He wouldn’t risk another.
And he definitely wouldn’t ever have children, because the thought of turning into a man like his critical and demanding father made his blood run cold.
CHAPTER NINE
With a large FedEx delivery of books to sort through, a steady stream of customers, and a long lunch with Maura at the Dancing Lily tearoom on Main, Tuesday had flown by.
Beth glanced at her watch as they walked into her bookstore. “It’s already three o’clock, Mom. I can’t believe we stayed at the Lily so long!”
“It was those fabulous sour cream scones with lemon curd. I couldn’t bear to leave a single crumb on the plate.”
