Page 20 of Saving Salem
“No problem, I’ll wait here.” Jack picked up the tray from the highchair and carried it to the sink, starting to wash it. Salem shook her head, not used to seeing a man willing to pull his weight. She loved her brother and her father, but they’d depended on others to clean up behind them. It was kind of nice seeing Jack doing something as simple as washing a highchair tray.
Chloe was asleep almost as soon as she laid her in the crib. Salem pulled the door almost closed, making sure the baby monitor was turned on. Taking a deep breath and a moment to smooth down her hair with nervous hands, she walked into the living room. Jack sat on one end of the sofa, and she moved to the other, checking the baby monitor that sat on the end table closest to the front door. She knew she was being a bit OCD, making sure she knew where Chloe was at every minute of the day, but after learning the Amirs wanted to take her away, and the threat with the knife, she’d become paranoid she’d turn around and her baby would be gone.
“You’re jumpy. Anything happen while I was at work?”
Trust Jack to pick up on her emotions. Guess she wasn’t good at disguising them. “No, everything’s fine. I guess I’m just antsy. I miss my routine. I’m used to going to work at the P.I. office. Chloe goes with me. Max and Theresa have set up an area in the corner of the office with a playpen and toys for her. I like the work, even if it’s a bit tedious.”
He leaned back, placing his arm along the cushions. “Tell me about it. I’ve dealt with private investigators in the past, but most of the time they’ve been more of a hindrance than a help. Of course, they’re usually doing borderline stuff that cops can’t. I doubt Max crosses that line.”
“Max Lamoreaux is the most straight arrow guy you’ll ever meet. By the book could have been coined for him. The only time I’ve heard that he did something not in the police handbook was when he hired Theresa to help find a missing teen. This was when he first moved back to New Orleans from Shreveport, so we’re talking several years ago.”
“Theresa’s his wife, right?”
She nodded. “Yes. She’s co-owner of the company, and great to work with. Unless you’ve got a secret or something to hide, because she can ferret it out faster than you can sayandouille.” Pausing a moment to heighten the upcoming information, she added, “She’s also psychic.”
Jack’s eyes widened at her statement before he shook his head and chuckled. “Yeah, right.”
“Skeptic. So was Max, until Theresa proved her abilities to him. She’s worked multiple cases with the New Orleans Police Department, as well as assisted C.S.S. She’s the real deal, which you’ll probably see for yourself since you’re going to be working there.”
“Hate to say it, but I don’t believe in all that woo-woo stuff. I was a Texas Ranger. We follow a little something called evidence.”
“I can’t wait until you get to see her in action. It will blow your mind.”
“What else do you do at the P.I. job?”
“Mostly answer phones, doing computer searches. Filing—oh my gosh—so much filing. While we use computers for most of the research, there are still paper files for everything, plus photocopies. That part is exhausting. I also open all routine mail, anything not personal to Max or Theresa. Which reminds me…” Her words trailed off as she remembered the envelope she’d picked up off the welcome mat when she got home. Grabbing it, she went back and sat on the sofa.
“What’s that?”
“It was sitting at the front door when I got home from the grocery store.” Looking closely at it, she noted it was addressed to both her and Jack. She hadn’t spotted that earlier. There was also no postmark and no return address, nothing to indicate who’d sent it. With a shrug she handed it to him.
Through the baby monitor she heard the sounds of soft mumbling, and she waited for a few seconds to see if Chloe was waking up. She watched Jack tear open the envelope and slide out sheets that looked like photos. The lines bracketing the sides of his mouth deepened in a frown, and the steely blue of his eyes hardened. Whatever he was looking at infuriated him. She didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out it had to have something to do with her.
“Jack?”
Without a word he handed the photos to her. At first, they seemed innocuous enough, the first one of her carrying Chloe in her arms, her favorite stuffed bunny clasped against her chest. The second was Salem running a hairbrush through her hair. It was a close-up-type picture, and she couldn’t see the background, tell where it was taken.
But the third picture, well, she knew exactly where it was. Chloe’s bedroom, here in the apartment. It showed her baby lying on her stomach, sleeping. She wore a pink onesie with bright purple and yellow flowers scattered all over, the bright color happy and cheerful. It was also the onesie she’d slept in the night before.
There were a few more pictures, all ones of her, Chloe, or Jack. It was obvious they’d been taken in different areas of the apartment. And since Jack was in them, they had to have been taken some time either yesterday or today.
Hands shaking, she handed them back to Jack. He shoved them back into the envelope and tossed it onto the coffee table and stood.
“Stay here,” he whispered. “I’m going out into the hall and calling Samuel. Be right back.”
Without another word, he walked out the door, leaving her alone…and angry.
Fury rode Jackas he dialed Samuel’s number. With all the upheaval the day prior, he hadn’t had a chance to check Salem’s apartment thoroughly. He’d given it a cursory check, looking for other dangers after the whole incident with Chloe and the knife, but he hadn’t thought to look for bugs. Somebody had planted cameras throughout Salem’s apartment. Though he couldn’t know for certain how long they’d been there, he had a feeling it had happened after she’d headed to Shiloh Springs.
Samuel said he was sending somebody to check things out and not to touch anything until they got there. The underlying anger in his boss’ voice had echoed his own. Good to know others were as invested in helping Salem out of this predicament as he was helped ease a bit of his ire. He took several deep breaths before heading back into the apartment, though they didn’t really help much. The feeling of uselessness rode him like a bucking bronco. He hated working blind, and right now he was in a situation where he didn’t have all the information, but you could bet he would before the day was out. Samuel might have his guys working on things from his end, but Jack was a Texas Ranger. While he might have resigned to come to New Orleans to be with Salem, you never really stopped being a Texas Ranger, and he had friends and connections. People who owed him favors and he wasn’t afraid to use them, if it meant keeping Salem and Chloe safe and away from the Amirs.
He closed the front door quietly behind him to find an anxious and clearly angry Salem still seated on the sofa, the photos spread out across the coffee table in front of her. There were a total of six pictures, and it was obvious each had been taken earlier that day, because they still wore the same clothing.
It seemed like he’d barely made it back inside the apartment before there was a pounding knock on the front door. Jack glanced toward the baby monitor, hoping against hope Chloe stayed asleep. He glanced through the peephole, finding an older man on the other side, a scowl on his face, his arms folded over his chest.
The moment he opened the door, the man barreled past him, headed straight for Salem, who jumped from the sofa and flung herself into his arms. His soft shushing sounds, along with the gentle way he held her, proved she knew him. Felt comfortable with the older man.
Jack studied his closely, taking in the long gray hair, tied at the nape of his neck with a leather band. His weatherbeaten tanned face wasn’t handsome, at least not in the traditional sense, instead it gave him character and strength, and reminded him of the two men he’d met earlier at Carpenter Security.
