devices on their person. If they weren’t carrying any, she moved on. If they were, she howled once, sat directly in front of their feet and stared.
She hadn’t gotten it wrong once.
So now, on top of the general excitement of having a small dog as a very special visitor at the preschool, the regular circle time had turned into a game. Maisy, with Allie’s help, held Queenie and theatrically covered the small dog’s eyes while her assistant, Esther, helped one of the students hide the phone, and then Allie would give Queenie the command to find it.
The coat hooks, book nook and building blocks hadn’t proven to be a challenge. This time Queenie sniffed around the costume trunk, then dove under the dress-up rack and disappeared in the costumes and uniforms for a second. Then her tiny furry head reappeared through the flowing fabric. She barked and sat. Maisy laughed. “Good dog.”
She got up from the circle, went over and stroked the small dog’s head. Queenie licked her fingers.
There was a short, polite rap on the glass window separating the classroom from the front hallway. She glanced back. Her breath caught in her throat. There stood Chase, dressed in his crisp, clean uniform blues, looking every bit like a hero as he had the day she’d first laid eyes on him. Unexpected heat rose to her cheeks. Whether he was guilty or innocent of the crimes he was being suspected of, Chase’s life was in serious danger. Her crushing on him like a schoolgirl was the last thing either of them needed.
Maisy broke his gaze and nodded toward where Allie now rolled on the carpet, giggling with Zoe’s son, Freddy. The little girl hadn’t noticed her father yet. Something softened in Chase’s eyes as he glanced at his daughter, but he shook his head slightly and pointed to Maisy. Then he stepped back away from the window and out of sight. Seemed he wanted to talk to her alone for a moment before he greeted his daughter. She wasn’t sure why, but once Allie caught sight of her daddy, Maisy suspected she wouldn’t be in a hurry to let him go. Maisy wanted to talk to him alone too, more than she’d realized. She needed to look him straight in the eyes, ask him if he was guilty and demand the truth about why he had her father’s cross.
Maisy turned back to the classroom. The other preschool teacher, Bella Martinez, who taught the class next door, and her classroom assistant, Vance Jones, had taken their students outside to the playground. No doubt, her students would enjoy the opportunity to play with the other kids.
“That was fun, wasn’t it?” she said, keeping her voice light and cheerful. “Now I think it’s time for outside playtime. Everybody follow Miss Esther outside.”
She waited and supervised, keeping a watchful eye as the slender and dark-haired newly qualified teacher led the herd of children out to the shady fenced playground behind the preschool. Two years younger than Maisy and very ambitious, Esther was the granddaughter of base commander Lieutenant General Nathan Hall and never tried to hide that she was eager to run her own class and not be anyone’s assistant. But she was good with the students.
Maisy turned back to where she knew Chase would be waiting. She took a deep breath and prayed as she exhaled. Lord, is this man guilty of the crimes he’s been accused of? Help me be wise. Help me see the truth. Then she raised her chin and pushed through the door into the small entranceway. “Hello, Chase. Allie’s outside in the back playground. It’s fully fenced in and supervised.”
Although, since paranoia and suspicion had spread across the base, a handful of the more overprotective parents had argued a locked five-foot-tall fence wasn’t enough to protect their children from intruders. The preschool director, Imogene Wilson, had installed extra security cameras and keypad locks on the playground doors, but still some parents were demanding the school take down the beautiful and colorful picket fence that Maisy herself had painted and replace it with a much taller chain-link fence with barbed wire on top. One or two other parents wanted to cancel recess and field trips altogether. Thankfully, so far the preschool director hadn’t given in.
Chase stepped back, nearly bumping into a cheerful hand-painted wooden sign of smiling fruit proclaiming Hugs Happen Here! He was so tall the top of her head barely came up to his chin, and not for the first time, she felt her eyes lingering on the strength of his arms and the breadth of his chest.
“Maisy, hi.” His voice was oddly husky, as if there was something caught in his throat. Sad eyes searched her face, looking even more lost and alone than when he’d first walked into her preschool. “I... Honestly... Well...” Then Chase closed his mouth again and shook his head as his words failed him. If she’d ever seen someone in need of a hug, it was him. He swallowed hard. “How’s Allie?”
“She’s fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “She was pretty confused and upset at first, as is to be expected. But she’s a strong kid and very resilient. I let her take a pink hair bow out of the birthday box, which calmed her down a bit. She helped me make toaster waffles and fruit for breakfast and showed me how to get Queenie to hunt for cell phones.”
He chuckled. “Did she now?”
“When Felicity and Westley brought over some dog food, Westley said to mention that before you integrate Queenie to the K-9 unit you’ll have to train Queenie not to take commands from anyone else,” she said, “including Allie. Although, he suspects Allie’s only able to do it because she’s done a really good job figuring out how to mimic you. She’s a really smart kid.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as if it stung to be reminded of his training with the K-9 unit that Westley had also told her was on hold while he was under suspicion.
“I don’t know how to begin to thank you,” he admitted. “Everything I can think of to say seems so inadequate considering what you did for us.”
“How about giving me a straight and truthful answer? Did you have anything at all to do with the death of my father?”
He blinked as if something about her bluntness surprised him. But then he looked down at her again, his gaze strong and unflinching. “No, ma’am.”
“Then how did my father’s cross end up in your home?”
“I have no idea.”
Her gut said he was telling the truth, but her brain was a whole different matter. She’d placed a lot of faith in the team investigating the Red Rose Killer in the past few months. The only thing that allowed her to sleep at night was the knowledge that some of the very best people she’d ever known were working around the clock to find Boyd and put him back behind bars where he belonged. But if Chase was innocent, then was her faith in the team misplaced? Or was she wrong to believe the man now standing in front of her?
Neither option was a comforting one.
“Did you ever have anything to do with Boyd Sullivan?” she pressed. Instinctively, her hand reached for his arm. She didn’t know why. But somehow she found her fingers brushing the fabric of his uniform, as if trying to hold him in place. “Anything at all? Anything that could explain why the police think you would be helping him or hiding him in your home?”
Chase shook his head. Then he looked down at her hand like it had been a really long time since he’d seen a woman’s fingers on his arm. His hand slid over hers, as if he was about to lead her into a party on his arm, or he was double-checking she was really there. The warmth of his touch spread through her skin. Then his clear and flawless eyes met hers again.
They were the same shade of green as a deep cool pond on a hot Texas summer day.
“No, ma’am,” he said. “I
