a current ran beneath the calm. The chief seemed to recognize it. “Good morning, Chief,” Ben said. “I’m Ben Palmer. I’m visiting for a few days. What’s this about eviction?”
Bigelow sized up the intruder then widened his stance, as though taking up more room somehow expanded his position. “This,” he said, his voice lowering a pitch, “is none of your business, Mr. Palmer. It’s between Ms. McGinnis and me.”
Ben continued to smile. “I’m sure you don’t want to violate the law, Chief. As a police officer, myself, I know that only a county sheriff or one of his deputies can enforce an eviction order, and then, only at the end of the court process.”
Anger and offended male ego lit Bigelow’s eyes. He cleared his throat. “Where you from, Palmer?” he asked.
“Oregon.”
“Well, this is Texas.”
“Right. But unless Texas has seceded, this law applies to you. It’s a federal law. It applies everywhere in the United States. You can’t make her leave.”
The chief took what he likely thought was an intimidating step toward Ben.
Ben stood firm and watched him approach, his manner still polite.
“I want her,” the chief said, a furious tremor in his voice, “and the children out of here in five days.”
Ben shook his head. “The landlord has to file an eviction notice. That would be a five-day notice for nonpayment of rent, which isn’t the case here—at least not without good cause. A ten-day notice for a breach of the lease, which isn’t the case, either. So, a thirty-day notice would be required. Still, the tenant could contest it. A formal eviction notice has to be filed first before a court case can proceed. At the very least, Ms. McGinnis can remain here for the next two months.”
Ben’s manner changed, the smile gone as he took a step toward the chief. “You’re the one who has to leave. You have no right to be here, therefore, you’re trespassing.”
“I,” Bigelow said, “am a representative of the law.”
“Without legitimate reason for the eviction you’re trying to serve, without the required paperwork and, apparently, without a working knowledge of the law you claim to represent.”
Corie’s heart pounded as the men stared at each other. Bigelow was clearly on the brink of violence, Ben waiting for it.
Expecting the chief to lay a hand on Ben at any second, Corie was surprised when he inhaled a breath and seemed to think better of it. Wisely so, she thought. Ben was a good fifteen years younger and considerably more fit.
“We’ll see about this, Palmer,” the chief said. Then he turned, strode toward his up-accessorized police car, got in and sped away.
Teresa threw her arms around Ben’s neck. “How do you know all that?” she asked.
“We had a situation at an apartment building at home. My partner and I were called in to keep the peace until everything was done properly. I learned a lot.”
Corie was astonished by what had just happened. Ben had defended them against one of Querida’s bullies. He’d stood up to the police chief’s intimidation tactics on her behalf. Well, not her behalf. He’d stood up for Teresa and the children, but their problem was as important to her as any of her own, so he might as well have defended her.
“We don’t have to go?” Rosie asked. “Ben made it so we don’t have to go, right?”
Soren laughed and patted Ben’s arm. “Ben scared the police chief,” he said. “We can stay for two more months.”
Corie ushered the children back while Teresa pulled herself together. The past year had been a nightmare with Tyree’s repeated threats to evict her. She held on to Ben the way Corie wanted to—as though he were a strong handhold in a hurricane. And it had been so long since either of them had anyone to hold on to in tough times except each other.
Corie sat the children at the table again, gave them each another pastry half, knowing she was taking the coward’s way out to soothe their nerves but accepting that it was expedient. She made more cocoa, turned up the Christmas carols and got a discussion going about what they should make for Teresa’s present.
* * *
BEN LOOKED DOWN into Teresa’s tear-filled eyes and felt an eerie change take place inside him.
She hugged him fiercely again. “Thank you, thank you!” she whispered thickly. “I’m so glad you were here.”
He patted her shoulder, feeling his whole world go south on him. To be honest, he had to admit that it had begun when he and Jack and Sarah had followed Corie on her path to theft and vengeance.
“We’ve held him off for now,” he said, watching her pull tissues out of her pocket and dab at her nose. “But this is just going to continue unless we settle this once and for all.”
She looked up at him doubtfully. “Tyree doesn’t care about our situation. His father was a good man, but all Cyrus cares about is getting me out. I hate it when the children are worried. I wish they could just go to school and come home and play and be happy.”
“Are their parents really coming back? Any of them?”
“Absolutely,” she said, her eyes suddenly dry, her customary confidence returning. “They’re not bad people. They’ve just had bad things happen to them. I started this place so that when parents are ready to take their children back, they don’t have to wait forever for the court to do its thing. They can just reclaim their children and make a home again. They’ll be back. I know Joel Santiago and Amelia Flores thought they’d be finished with school by Christmas.”
“All right,” he heard himself say, “then we’ll do everything we can to see that you stay.”
“How will we do that?”
“Leave it to me.”
“You’d have to stay around for a while.”
Yeah. He was getting that.
He’d never been a selfish person—he’d been raised better than that. But his life so far, apart from his job, had been about doing what he wanted to do. He was enthused and excited about his plans to start an investigative agency. He was willing to work hard and had a fairly good business head. He could make a success of Palmer Private Investigations.
But he wasn’t going to be able to launch his business until he had Teresa and Corie and the children on a safer footing and he’d resigned from the Beggar’s Bay police force. And then there was the jewelry... He had no illusions that he could single-handedly solve either issue. He needed an ally in the cause, but he was going to do his best to brighten up the children’s world and give them the stability they deserved.
Teresa hooked her arm in his and tugged him back into the house. “Thanks, Ben, for caring about us.”
“I’m glad I was here.”
“And for agreeing to stay.”
He
