needed to figure it out, before any more blood was shed.
* * *
Thirty minutes after they’d left her normally quiet and safe neighborhood behind, Paige still couldn’t relax. The sound of gunfire continued to echo in her mind, over and over again until she thought she might scream.
She knew she should be glad that the police detective had risked his life to save them, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that he’d only come to see her in the first place because of Travis.
For a moment she squeezed her eyes shut in frustrated anger. Her ex-husband had cheated on her practically from the moment they’d gotten married, although she hadn’t found out about the other women he went out with until Abby was born and one of the women showed up at the hospital looking for Travis.
He’d apologized to Paige and promised to be faithful, but of course that hadn’t lasted more than a couple of months. She finally divorced him when Abby was two and she’d made it a point to do her best to get along with him, for their daughter’s sake.
But now it looked as if Travis was in trouble again. He’d called her a few weeks ago, asking if she’d keep Abby over the weekend he was supposed to take her. Of course she’d agreed, but she’d also sensed tension in his tone.
She’d asked what was wrong and he blamed his stress on work. As he was the director of research and development for Sci-Tech, she hadn’t thought too much about it.
But now she couldn’t help but wonder if there had been more to it than that.
Paige took several deep breaths, burying her face in the collar of the detective’s black leather jacket. The scent of leather, combined with his aftershave, was surprisingly calming. She turned her attention to her daughter. Abby was plastered against her, hanging on as if she’d never let go. She was glad to realize that Abby had managed to keep a firm grip on Ellie. Having her favorite toy with her should assist in keeping her calm.
“Hey, Abby, you can sit up if you like. We’re safe now. The nice policeman, Detective...” She frowned, forgetting the guy’s name.
“Miles,” he supplied in a low, masculine tone.
“Detective Miles helped us get away.”
Abby moved her head a bit, as if seeking a more comfortable angle, but didn’t say anything in response.
“Mrs. Olson?” He glanced at her in the rearview mirror.
“You may as well call me Paige.” She forced a smile. The detective was wearing a long-sleeved light blue shirt and dark slacks, and she wondered if he was cold, since she still had his jacket. “Thanks for helping us.”
“You’re welcome. Please, call me Miles.” He cleared his throat. “Will you walk me through the events that happened before I arrived?”
She swallowed hard. “I was finishing up the dinner dishes while Abby was playing in her room. I heard a crash and hurried over to see she’d dropped her tablet. She must have been afraid that I’d yell at her, because she was hiding under the bed.”
“Go on,” he urged.
“When I bent down to check if she was under there, the window shattered. I heard a loud bang and realized that someone was shooting at the house. I was able to get Abby to come out and my plan was to hide in the bathroom until the police arrived.”
“Did you call them?”
“No.” She realized her phone was still on the kitchen counter. “I didn’t have my phone. I thought about going back to the kitchen, but then I wondered if it might be better to hide.” She didn’t want to say exactly what she’d thought, since she knew Abby was listening.
“I was outside the front of your house when I heard the gunshots,” he said.
Now that it was over, she was grateful for his impeccable timing. “I’m glad.”
“When was the last time you spoke to your ex-husband?” Miles asked.
She grimaced. “Last week. He was supposed to take Abby for the weekend, but he called to cancel again.”
“Again?”
“He’s supposed to take her every other weekend, but he’s canceled three times in a row. But I know he keeps in touch with Abby on ChatTime, right, Abby?”
Her daughter pressed her face more firmly against Paige’s neck but nodded her head.
“ChatTime?” Miles repeated. “They communicate face-to-face using the tablet?”
“Yes. It was Travis’s idea, even though I’ve tried to tell him that ChatTime isn’t the same as spending time together actually doing things.” Yet another bone of contention between them.
“Abby? Did you talk to your daddy tonight?” Miles asked.
Paige was surprised when every muscle in her daughter’s body went tense.
“Abby, honey, it’s okay,” she murmured, stroking the child’s hair, the exact same color as her own. “We’re safe now. I’m not mad at you for dropping the tablet. We can always get another one.”
Abby didn’t relax or lift her head, or indicate in any way that she’d heard either of them talking, even though Paige was certain she had.
“Abby, please say something.” Her motherly instincts were screaming at her that something was wrong with her daughter. But what?
“Are you sure she’s not hurt?” Miles asked in a concerned tone.
“I don’t know.” Paige ran her hands up and down Abby’s small body, feeling for anything abnormal.
When her daughter shook her head from side to side, she stopped. “Are you hurt?” she asked.
Another head shake.
“Are you upset about something?”
Definite head nod up and down.
“What’s wrong? Will you tell me why you’re upset?”
Another head shake no.
“Why won’t you talk to me?” Paige asked helplessly.
“She’s probably still scared from everything that’s happened,” Miles said, as if trying to reassure her. “Rather than taking you to the police station, we’ll stay at a motel for the rest of the night. Tomorrow you’ll need to give a statement. Maybe Abby will feel better by then, too.”
“Did you hear that, Abby? Detective Miles is taking us to a motel. Maybe they’ll have a swimming pool. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
No response.
Fear squeezed like a fist around her heart. Abby loved to swim. She was normally a bright, talkative little girl. In fact, her kindergarten teacher sent notes home on a weekly basis complaining about Abby being such a chatterbox.
Paige
