studied the name. “No problem. See you Sunday.”
Travis watched the car pull away from the curb. What would Elizabeth think when she’d found out what he’d done? What would he think if he learned her secret?
* * *
Mandy licked her ice-cream cone frantically, but the drips were faster. “Travis, help,” she called, holding out her hand.
He grabbed two napkins and wiped her clean. By the time he was done with that hand, the other one was a mess.
“You’ve got to learn to eat them quicker, honey.”
Mandy giggled. She had several grass stains on her shirt and shorts from the soccer practice. There was a smudge of dirt on her cheek and chocolate ice cream on her chin. She was adorable.
“I’m done.” She gave him the half-finished cone, which proceeded to drip all over his hand.
“Great. Thanks.” He licked it a couple of times, then tossed it in the plastic-lined trash container in the ice-cream shop. He wiped both their hands, then collected their packages. Mandy slid off her stool and followed him out onto the street.
“Hold this,” he said, handing her one of the bags. He reached in his back pocket and pulled out the list Elizabeth had made. “Okay, we bought T-shirts.”
“Three of them,” Mandy said helpfully.
“Yes, three. And shoes. We got underwear.”
“With pink bunnies.”
“The bunnies are nice.” It had been tough deciding between bunnies, a popular female cartoon figure and flowers. He’d picked out female lingerie before, but not cotton panties for a six-year-old. He hoped Elizabeth approved of the bunnies. He scanned the list. “That’s it, kid. We just have to go by the post office and collect your mom’s mail. Then we’ll head home.”
“Okay.” She started down the sidewalk.
“Mandy?” he called.
“What?”
“It’s that way.” He pointed in the other direction.
She smiled. “Okay.” The bag was light, but almost as big as she was. He reached down and took it from her.
“I didn’t mean for you to carry that, sweetie. I’ll take it.”
“But I want to help.”
He sorted through the other packages. “Here. Take this one.”
“Mommy’s present?” She looked in the small gift store bag and smiled. “Mommy will like it.”
“I hope so.” It had been an impulsive purchase. A small yellow stuffed duck. She wouldn’t get the joke, but seeing it would remind him not to try to be other than he was.
Mandy walked at his side chatting about school and soccer practice. He liked the sound of her voice and her stories. He liked how she looked up at him and simply assumed he would keep her safe. She accepted him with the tacit trust of a child raised in a house full of love and security. So where was the girl’s father?
Thinking of Sam Proctor sent a shiver of guilt slipping down his spine. As they crossed the street and he saw a restaurant up ahead, he had the urge to step inside and use the phone to call Kyle at the station. It would be easy enough to tell his brother to back off. Why did it matter who Sam Proctor was? But he passed the restaurant without making the call.
They reached the post office. There was a short line. Mandy stood patiently, humming softly under her breath. He glanced down at her pretty face and beautiful blue eyes. Eyes she had to have inherited from her father. He smiled at her. She grinned in return and reached for his hand. The trusting gesture twisted his heart. A stab of loneliness caught him off balance. It was going to be hell when Elizabeth and Mandy moved into their own place.
When it was their turn, he approached the counter and collected Elizabeth’s mail. She was having her forwarded correspondence held until she had her own place. He resisted the temptation to flip through the stack of envelopes. Checking on Sam Proctor was one thing, reading her mail quite another.
“Ready to go home?” he asked.
She nodded. “I had the best time, Travis. I like doing things with you. My old friends did stuff with their daddies but mine was always busy. I like soccer, too.”
The slightly confused speech gave him the in he’d been hoping for. As they approached the car, he dug in his front jeans pocket for his keys.
“You haven’t seen your daddy in a long time, have you?”
Mandy shook her head. “Mommy said he had to go away. My daddy left because he’s big.”
She’d said that once before. What the hell did it mean?
“Big?”
She nodded. “I heard her say that once. Mommy was on the phone. I was supposed to be in bed, but I got up for a drink of water. Mommy said Daddy was big. Then she started to cry.” Mandy’s mouth twisted into a frown. “I got scared and went back to my room. Mommy and Daddy fought sometimes. I could hear them.” She handed him the bag then climbed into the front seat of his Bronco. As he bent over to fasten her seat belt, she glanced up at him. “It made Mommy sad when he went away. It made me sad, too.”
He could see that sadness in her eyes and felt like the lowest kind of scum for questioning her. To distract her, he bent over and tickled her.
“Sad? No one is allowed to be sad in my car.”
She twisted away and giggled. “Is it a magic car, like the magic hugs?”
“Absolutely.” He handed her the mail and closed her door.
After tossing the packages on the back seat, he climbed in and started the truck. Mandy’s good humor had been restored and she chatted happily. His mind reeled with curiosity.
My daddy left because he’s big. Elizabeth Abbott, who are you? He signaled to turn out of the post office parking lot. Frustration welled up inside of him. He drew in a deep breath. He wasn’t going to get answers anytime soon. Kyle might come up with something, or he might not. Until then, he would just have to let it go. He liked Elizabeth and found it hard to believe she was involved with anything shady. His gut trusted her, and he trusted his gut.
“Look at the pretty dog,” Mandy said, pointing at a teenage boy walking a collie.
Travis stopped at a red light and turned to look. Mandy raised her hands to wave at the dog. The mail on her lap slipped off on the floor. He glanced at the light to make sure it was still red, then bent over and picked up the envelopes. He told himself not to, but he couldn’t help glancing at the address. It was a suburb of Los Angeles. He looked up a line, to the addressee. His teeth clenched together. He flipped through the rest of the envelopes. Almost all of them were addressed to the same person: Elizabeth Proctor.
She’d lied.
* * *
