to keep me in the dark? When the career criminal who got Luke’s father killed is out?”
“I was going to tell you, just not then.”
“And the week since?”
Drew flicked a glance at the couple opposite them. It was awkward, but he didn’t see any way out of it. There was only one reason he hadn’t told her Doug’s partner in crime had been released and was now a free man.
“It’s been so...nice, I didn’t want to ruin it.”
Her eyes widened slightly. And to his surprise, she smiled. A warm, acknowledging smile.
It had been nice. They had both been so relieved that Luke was all right, so focused on the boy and his welfare, that things had been quite pleasant. Something he should remember, Drew told himself. All it really took to keep her happy was that Luke was happy. He had the feeling she’d be content living in a tiny apartment somewhere, on a tight budget, doing without, as long as her son was happy.
And the biggest thing she could probably do without was him.
But that smile...
“We’re trying to track him down,” Quinn said briskly, as if he was used to emotional moments like this occurring in his workplace. As, given the work Foxworth did, perhaps they did. “But since he served his entire sentence and isn’t on parole, that’s going to take a little time.”
“Because he doesn’t have to check in with anyone?” Alyssa asked.
Quinn nodded. “He’s free and clear.”
“Except for that matter of a felony record,” Drew said.
“Yes. But all I meant was that no one has any leverage.”
“I’m hoping,” Drew said, “that since it’s been three months, he either can’t find us or isn’t looking.”
Quinn’s gaze sharpened. Then he gave Drew a short nod of approval. “Glad to see I don’t need to explain that.”
“Wait,” Alyssa said. “You think he’ll come looking for us? Baird? Why?”
“I just think it’s better to be cautious,” Drew said.
“Always wise when dealing with a man with his kind of rap sheet,” Quinn said.
Alyssa watched Drew for a moment. “That’s why you had that alarm system put in this summer, isn’t it?”
“Partly,” he admitted.
She’d teased him then, about being paranoid. An alarm system seemed completely unnecessary on their quiet little street in their quiet little neighborhood in a quiet little town. But he’d simply said he wanted them safe when he was working long hours on a job, and he was having one installed at the office anyway for insurance reasons. Which was at least partially true. He didn’t see any point in reminding her that Doug’s co-felon would be released soon. And she’d looked over at Luke, busily drawing a picture of their hike the day before, and thanked him.
She’d even reached out to him that night. It had been a long time, and he was hungry enough to take what she offered, even knowing it was out of gratitude rather than love. It didn’t happen often, but considering they’d started out with her insisting she would never, ever sleep with him he supposed it was something. He’d found it amazing how you could almost get used to not having sex if you went long enough. Like you went numb or something. Except for those times when the need became overwhelming and he’d resorted to the oldest method in the world, with stupid fantasies about his wife running through his head.
He saw her cheeks turn pink, knew she was remembering that night as well. It had been good, even she couldn’t deny that. But she’d been so glum afterwards, as if she felt guilty, he knew it would be a long time before he got that offer again. And he’d spent a long time after that cursing his dead brother for having such a hold on her. He just didn’t understand it. She was a bright, clever woman, why couldn’t she see who Doug really was?
Alyssa turned away, looking out the window where Luke and Cutter were playing under the watchful eye of the guardian Quinn had promised. Liam Burnett looked young from here, but Quinn had assured them he was more than competent.
“He’s been trained by the best,” Hayley had added with a loving glance at her fiancé. “And young enough he’ll probably end up playing right there with them before long.”
Drew wondered what it would be like, to have your woman look at you like that. He knew Alyssa respected him, was grateful to him, and—God help him—appreciated him. But love him, the way Hayley clearly loved Quinn? No. And he had no right to expect it. Ever.
“We’ll find Oliver, wherever he went,” Quinn promised now. “And no matter how long it takes. We’re dealing with a different sort of situation now.”
“More what you usually do?” Alyssa asked.
“Yes,” Quinn agreed, “but we won’t stop on the other. We’ll just add finding Oliver to it. And if necessary, once we do we’ll keep an eye on him from then on.”
Alyssa turned back. “That could get expensive,” she said with a frown.
Drew hadn’t even asked. Her safety and Luke’s was something he didn’t put a price tag on.
“Foxworth doesn’t charge,” Quinn said.
Drew blinked. “What?”
“Once we decide to take on a case, we fund it.”
Suspicion bit, deep and hard. “And just how do you manage that?”
“We’re funded by a trust, set up with my parents’ life insurance.”
“They’re both gone?” Alyssa asked softly.
Quinn nodded. “Years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
There was no doubting the genuineness of her tone. Alyssa had that down to her bones, that capacity of empathy. Perhaps because of what she herself had been through, she had a knack for making people realize she truly did know how they felt. He used to wish she’d use some of that on him, but soon decided it was just as well she didn’t know how he felt. Especially after he’d made the stupid mistake of falling in love with her.
“It was the Lockerbie bombing,” Hayley said.
Drew sucked in a breath. He’d been a kid at the time, but he remembered his parents’ horror. Alyssa had only been a baby, so while she knew of it, it likely didn’t have the impact it had for him.
“That was the terrorist attack, the passenger jet?” she asked.
Quinn nodded. “They were both on board.”
“My God,” Alyssa breathed. “How awful. I’m so sorry. You must have been very young.”
Again the empathy fairly glowed from her, as if it were a tangible thing between her and the person she was feeling it for. He wasn’t used to that kind of introspection,
