скачать книгу бесплатно
She nodded. “Thanks for coming down here,” she said, recovering her poise. “I don’t know how you even found us …”
“Abuse of power,” he quipped. He grinned. “I can pull strings when I want to.”
“Unethical, sir,” she pointed out.
He shrugged. “My brother is corrupting me.”
She laughed. She glanced at the big clock in the waiting room. “You’ve got a meeting with the sheriff about that Oklahoma kidnapping in ten minutes at the courthouse,” she exclaimed, referring to a case in which an agent in another field office had requested some help. FBI offices cooperated on cases from other jurisdictions that overlapped. “You’ll never make it.”
“I’ll make sure I catch all the traffic lights when they’re green.” He chuckled.
“Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nodded. She watched him walk away. It surprised her that he cared enough to hunt her down when she didn’t show up for work. And he’d been really concerned. That made her feel warm inside. She fought it. His mother would be the worst enemy on earth to make. Joceline already knew how the woman felt about her. It gave her cold chills. But then she was worrying about things she might not ever have to consider. She had her son, and he was going to get better. That had to be her concern now. Only that.
“I’m really sorry about walking in the rain, Mommy,” Markie apologized when they were back home in their small apartment. “I love rain,” he added plaintively.
“I know you do, sweetheart, but your lungs don’t,” she said, trying to explain. “You don’t like being sick.”
He shook his head. “I don’t like making you upset, too.” He dived against her side and held on tight. “I love you so much, Mommy!”
“I love you, too, pumpkin,” she replied and hugged him back, hard.
“I’ll wear my coat next time.”
They both knew he was lying. She’d just have to be more careful. It wasn’t the rain, the doctor had told her, but the fact that Markie was sensitive to viruses and he’d had one starting when he got wet. It wasn’t dangerous for a healthy child, but then, Markie had never been really robust.
The specialist changed his allergy medicines. Joceline talked to the drug company and they agreed voluntarily to give her the inhalers for a fraction of the retail cost. The medication seemed to be working, too. Markie perked up. His valleys and peaks leveled off and he settled into school with resignation. Joceline had a long talk with Markie’s teacher and the owner of the day care, and an attorney who was kind enough to help her pro bono. For the time being, the bullying was curtailed. But they did mention that Markie was distracting in the classroom and set a date for her to come back, alone, and discuss it with them.
Meanwhile, Markie got better and Joceline got her nerves back together. There was still the question of a diagnosis for Markie’s behavioral problems. She didn’t know what to do. There was really nobody who could help except their doctor. She’d asked him about Markie and he agreed that it was possible that the child had attention deficit disorder. He was researching the medications and considering a reply for her.
She was doing well until Cammy Blackhawk stormed into the office and glared at Joceline as if she was a hooker.
“I would like to see my son,” she said haughtily.
Joceline, practiced at handling gruff and unpleasant individuals, gave her a vacant smile. “Of course, ma’am. Won’t you have a seat in our modern and ergonomically designed waiting area?”
Cammy blinked.
Joceline picked up the phone. “Mrs. Blackhawk is here to see you, sir.”
Jon came out the door at once, looking oddly protective as he glanced at Joceline and then at Cammy.
“Hi,” he said.
Cammy stared at Joceline uncomfortably and then back at her son. “I want you to come to supper tonight,” she said firmly. “I’m having a soiree …”
“Soiree?” Jon asked, surprised.
“It’s a French word, sir,” Joceline told him helpfully. “It means a small, informal dinner …”
“I know what it means!” he snapped.
She saluted him.
He rolled his eyes. “Cammy, I can’t come. I’m having supper with Mac and Winnie,” he said firmly.
“Don’t call me Cammy! I’m your mother!” she grumbled.
“And I don’t want to try to eat while I’m being regaled with the latest fashion information,” he continued irritably.
“Many, many people buy specialized magazines to ferret out that information,” Joceline began enthusiastically.
“Do you mind?” Cammy snapped at her. “I am trying to speak to my son!”
Joceline saluted her, too, smiled again and went back to typing on the computer.
“Come in here,” Jon muttered, pulling Cammy into his office. He closed the door. “For the last time, I do not want to have supper with your matrimonial candidate!”
“She’s a nice girl!”
His narrowed eyes glittered. “I don’t want to get married! Winnie’s pregnant. Why don’t you go and overwhelm her with motherly advice?”
Cammy averted her eyes. “She’s getting that from her own mother. I’m superfluous.”
“Well, you can advise Mac on being a father,” he countered.
“He’s always being called away from the phone, and when I try to visit his office, he’s always out,” she said irritably.
“You’re a bulldozer,” he told her. “You don’t think anyone can live if you’re not telling them how to go about it.”
“I’m just trying to help,” she said, exasperated.
“You should have had more kids,” he replied. “It’s ‘empty nest syndrome.’ You’re lonely and bored.”
“You’re all alone,” she said miserably. “What will happen to you when I die?”
He was shocked by the question. “Are you planning to?”
She averted her eyes. “Don’t be silly. I just want to see you happily married, like Mac is.”
“If it had been up to you, Mac would never have married Winnie,” he reminded her. “You thought she was after his money.”
“So I made an error in judgment,” she said, clearly uncomfortable. “But this nice girl is just what you need. She’s outgoing and social, always dressed in the latest fashion and she knows many people in high places.”
“So do I,” he reminded her.
“You need a family. You don’t even date anybody. Well,” she amended thoughtfully, “there was that lawyer, but wasn’t she just trying to get information out of you about a client?”
He didn’t like being reminded of that. “I date when I feel like it.”
“Yes, but you never feel like it!” she retorted. “You should have children to play with, now while you’re still young enough to play with them and do things with them!”
“I’m not married, Cammy,” he said patiently.
“I noticed!”
“I lead a hectic life,” he continued. “Most women wouldn’t be able to put up with the hours I keep.”
“Charlene is beautiful and she’s very tolerant of your lifestyle,” Cammy began.
“She is not,” Jon shot back. “She said that I’d have to give up video games.”
“You play too many of them,” Cammy agreed. “You should have children to take up your spare time.”
“Don’t you have anything else to do with your life besides trying to run mine for me?” Jon asked finally, exasperated.
“I am not trying to run your life. I want you to be happy.”
“Harassing me about marriage isn’t doing the job.”
“It isn’t harassment,” she groaned. “Son, you don’t even have a social life.”
“I don’t want one. I love my work.”
“You always have,” Cammy replied heavily. “You and McKuen, burying yourselves in dangerous occupations! The past has taken a heavy toll on both of you.”
“And on you,” Jon agreed. He kissed her forehead. “I know you miss Dad,” he said gently. “So do all of us. But you’re going overboard with plans for my future. You have to let life happen. You can’t force people to do things they don’t want to do.”
“You’d like Charlene if you gave her a chance,” she argued.
“She’s the most opinionated woman I’ve met recently,” he said gruffly.
“You’re only upset because she said you’d have to stop playing so many video games,” Cammy replied. “And she’s right.”
“She is not.”
“We can agree to differ. You should get out more. You spend too much time in this office with that woman out there,” she muttered.
“Joceline is my administrative assistant,” Jon replied. “She’s also a competent paralegal. Who do you think found the link that solved the murder of Mac’s little girl?”
Cammy frowned. “I thought it was McKuen.”
He shook his head. “Joceline dug out the information that broke the case.”
Cammy was evidently surprised, and not pleasantly. She shifted her feet. “She’s disrespectful.”
“I haven’t noticed that.”
“And she’s got a child. She’s not married.”
“She was going to be. Her fiancé died overseas in the military before he could marry her,” he said with faint defensiveness.
“She told you that?”
He nodded.
“How do you know it’s the truth?” she asked with a cold smile. “Women tell all sorts of stories.”
“Why are you so antagonistic toward her?”
She didn’t answer him. “If you won’t come to supper, how about to lunch tomorrow?”
“It’s a long drive to the ranch,” he began.
“I’m staying at the apartment in town,” she replied. “You’ll come, won’t you?”
He wanted a way out, but he was reluctant to refuse. Cammy was his mother. He didn’t spend a lot of time with her, and he felt guilty.
“I suppose I could. If it’s going to be just the two of us,” he added firmly.
“Of course,” she replied. She smiled. “Just us two.”
“Now, I have work to do,” he reminded her, opening the door.
“I’ll have something nice for you to eat,” she promised. She smiled at him and impulsively hugged him. “That’s my good boy. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She kissed him, shot a cool look at Joceline and breezed out the front door.
“They do make Bengal tiger traps,” Joceline said thoughtfully. “Although you would have to dig a deep hole in the office.”
He wouldn’t smile, he wouldn’t smile …
She heard a muffled sound from behind his closed door, and she grinned.
THAT NIGHT SHE TOOK Markie to a local restaurant that featured a video game arcade. It was filled to capacity.
“Let’s try this one,” she said enthusiastically after they’d had chicken fingers and iced tea. “Here!”
“I like this one,” Markie agreed with a grin.
It was piloting fighter planes and shooting at an enemy on a huge movie screen. Markie laughed uninhibitedly, and so did Joceline. She enjoyed the once-a-month outing as much as he did. They had little money for frivolous things like this, but she didn’t want Markie to miss out on entertainment that other children had access to. For a four-year-old, he had an amazing dexterity and skill at the game.
She was aware of movement behind her. Suddenly there were three other people in the compartment, parked on either side of her and Markie, putting game cards into the slots.
“Think you’re good, do you?” Mac Kilraven chided. “Let’s see!”
“Don’t let him bait you, Joceline,” a very pregnant Winnie Sinclair said and laughed from beside him. “I can outshoot him! So can you!”
