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Patty must have known what she was thinking. “The backyard overlooks two vacant lots that the owners of this property bought. I never get tired of the view from this room. It changes so much with each season.”
Rachel was confused. “Doesn’t John own this home?”
“No. He has a long-term lease.”
Bella looked up at Rachel. “Dad’s going to build a new house when the snow melts.”
Patty nodded. “He bought a parcel of land at Emerald Lake. It’s going to be even prettier than what we’ve got here.” She walked through another set of double doors and turned to Rachel. “Welcome to the heart of the house.”
Rachel followed Patty and looked around the huge kitchen. She could have almost squeezed her entire apartment into the beautiful space. Everything sparkled - from the marble counter to the pendant lights hanging from the ceiling.
The smell of sweet cookies filled the air and made Rachel sigh. “This is wonderful. You must enjoy spending time in here?”
Patty looked around the kitchen. “It’s a lovely space. Whoever designed it, knew about cooking.”
Bella disappeared behind a set of pantry doors and reappeared with a plate in her hands. “Mrs. Daniels makes the best food ever. I helped her bake these cookies.”
Rachel watched Bella carefully lift a dozen cookies onto the plate and carry them across to a wooden table. “They look delicious.”
Bella nodded solemnly. “We measured out the ingredients. Mrs. Daniels is teaching me about fractions.”
Patty took three mugs out of a set of drawers. “You’re a natural at math. I’ve never seen anyone learn what three-quarters of a cup of sugar looks like so quickly. Would you like coffee or hot chocolate, Rachel?”
“Hot chocolate, please.”
“Me too, Mrs. Daniels.” Bella sat at the kitchen table and waited for Rachel. “Hot chocolate is about my most favorite thing in the world.”
Rachel sat beside Bella. “So you like math, hot chocolate, and baking. What else do you like?”
Bella thought hard. “I like the beach, ice cream sundaes, and pasta. My friend Poppy is nice, too. I met her at my ballet class.”
“What about triple fudge brownies?” Patty added. “You ask me to make them at least once a week.”
“I love your triple fudge brownies. I love them even more because dad likes them, too.” She turned to Rachel and lowered her voice. “He dunks them into his coffee, then eats them before they fall apart. Don’t tell Mrs. Daniels. She keeps telling him off.”
Rachel leaned toward Bella. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
Bella held her hand out. “Pinky promise?”
“Pinky promise.” Rachel curled her little finger around Bella’s and smiled. “Where is your dad, Bella?”
John was supposed to meet Rachel nearly twenty minutes ago. She’d written down the questions she needed to ask him, rehearsed how the conversation would go. She’d start their professional relationship with the minimum of fuss and high expectations of a successful ending.
She thought back over their conversation four days ago. He’d definitely said he’d be at home when she arrived. Maybe the education of his daughter wasn’t high on his list of priorities. Maybe he had different expectations about how this teaching position would work out.
Patty left a mug of hot chocolate in front of Bella, then put a second mug in front of Rachel. “Don’t go fretting. John asked me to let you know that he was called in to work urgently. He wouldn’t have gone unless it was important.”
“Dad keeps people safe,” Bella said matter-of-factly. “Sometimes he has to miss important things.”
Patty pulled a chair away from the table and sat down. “He doesn’t mean to,” she told Bella. “Your dad tries his best.”
It didn’t look as though John’s best coincided with his daughter’s.
The back door opened and Tank strode into the kitchen. “You’re having coffee already?” He glanced at the plate of cookies. The corner of his mouth tilted into an almost smile. “Is there enough room at the table for me?”
Patty patted the back of the chair beside her. “Of course there is. Come and warm up. I was just telling Rachel that John had to go into work early this morning.”
Tanks face fell into an indifferent mask. “He’ll be back as soon as he can.”
Rachel didn’t ask what the problem was. Tank didn’t look inclined to share any information and she had to remember to keep their working relationship professional.
“Did dad remember that we’re going to the mall this afternoon?” Bella looked hopefully at Tank. “Poppy’s birthday is on Wednesday. He said we could go and buy her a present.”
Tank took the cup of coffee Patty handed him. “I’ll remind him, Bella. But just in case he can’t make it, I could go with you?”
Bella looked heart-broken. “He said he’d take me, Tank.”
“I know. He’ll take you if he can.”
Rachel looked between Tank and Bella.
Tank was trying hard to make up for the disappointment written across Bella’s face. “I’ll call him at lunchtime and see if he can come.”
Rachel glanced at Mrs. Daniels. She was watching Bella with a worried frown.
Rachel knew what it was like to be put behind all of the other things happening in a parent’s life. “If your dad can’t make it, I could go to the mall with you?” She forced a smile onto her face and pretended that she didn’t know how Bella felt. “You could tell me what Poppy likes? It would be like a treasure hunt.”
Bella looked down at her hot chocolate. “I guess that would be okay. But only if dad can’t make it.”
Rachel hugged Bella’s shoulders. “It will be fun. After we’ve been shopping, you could come to drama club with me.”
A smile lit Bella’s face. “Really?”
Rachel didn’t look at Tank. Going to drama club hadn’t figured on his plans today, but plans were made to be broken. She was sure he’d be able to fit drama club into his schedule.
Tank slid Rachel’s car keys across the table. “You’ll need these if you’re going to the mall and the library. I can follow you in my truck.”
Rachel didn’t know how he knew that drama club was at the library, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Bella was now happily munching a cookie. If her dad couldn’t come home early, she had something else to look forward to.
And that, Rachel knew, was as good as it got sometimes.
***
John looked at his computer screen, re-reading the police report in front of him. One of his security teams had been transporting a wealthy client’s collection of eighteenth-century jewelry across two states. They’d been heading toward New York when they’d been ambushed outside of Stamford. No one had been seriously hurt, but it had been close.
Even though the jewelry hadn’t been taken, the vehicle his team had been driving would be written off. John’s eyes traveled over the report, stopping at the third paragraph. Up until they’d hit Port Chester the journey had been uneventful. That had all changed when they’d driven over the Rippowam River.
All of John’s teams followed strict pre-assignment protocols. Before they left, they checked all national and state websites, making sure they knew of all planned events that could impact on their assignment. They checked weather conditions and accident reports. Traffic congestion data was analyzed and they planned their journey to avoid any unnecessary holdups.
They’d done everything they should have, but they’d still been caught in unscheduled roadworks.
The team had quickly realized that something wasn’t right. As they’d overtaken all of the traffic to get away from the slow-zone, two black SUVs had tried to block their path. Tony Martinez, the driver of Fletcher Security’s SUV, had swerved to the opposite side of the road and slammed into the side of one of the vehicles. He’d kept driving and called for back-up.
They’d made it to their destination, delivered the jewelry, then sent through their report with the dashboard camera images.
Sam and Tanner, two of John’s team based in Montana, had been studying the video for the last few hours. After pulling every piece of data they could find off the video, they were no closer to locating the owner of the SUV.
A quick knock on John’s door pulled his attention away from his computer.
Tanner stood in the doorway. “Sam and I are heading home. Are you coming?”
John glanced at his watch. It was eight o’clock - too late to do anything more for his team in New York. “How’s Tony?”
“Better than your SUV. He’ll contact the insurance company tomorrow.”
John sent Tony a quick email. “We can do that from here. He’s got enough to worry about.” He frowned at the printouts on his desk. He’d looked through each paper at least a dozen times. Nothing that had happened today made sense. Compared to some of the contracts they carried out, the transfer of the jewelry had been a routine operation. Nothing should have gone wrong.
He scooped all of the papers into a pile and locked them away in his bottom drawer. “I’ll leave with you and Sam. Bella’s going to be upset that I missed her bedtime.”
