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For a reason he didn’t want to examine too closely, Bentz needed to hold the baby, press his nose into her cheek, and smell the baby-scents of her, to keep her close. That was the problem with children. They eventually left. He remembered the first time he’d held Kristi as a newborn infant.
Never had he felt such joy.
And never had he felt so vulnerable.
Neither feeling had ever left him. And now Kristi, whether she admitted it or not, was drowning in her grief. He knew it would take time for her to heal, of course. Hadn’t he been there himself? But he hated to see her hurting and he was worried sick about her safety.
Ginny was crawling to the side of the bed, dragging her ratty pink blanket with her, when he reached the bedroom. “Hey, sunshine,” he said, and scooped her up to hold her close, the blanket dangling. “Who’s my big girl?”
“Me!” she cried in delight.
“That’s right, honey, you sure are.”
This one, he thought, carrying her into the living area, he could protect. For the moment. But his other daughter?
God, he hoped he could.
He’d have to find a way. His arms tightened around his youngest.
Have to.
* * *
She’d lied to her father.
Again.
God, when would she ever learn, Kristi wondered as she drove home. Yes, a security tech was scheduled, but she wasn’t going jogging with Bella or anyone else for that matter. Not yet.
Her stomach was queasy and she attributed the slight case of nausea to her lying and, of course, the pregnancy.
Soon she’d go to the ob-gyn to confirm what she’d learned in the hospital, and talk to a specialist who would give her more information about her pregnancy. Then she would give her father the happy news, but she wasn’t ready yet. Telling anyone about her baby, Jay’s baby, seemed a bit of a betrayal somehow, since she’d never been able to confide in her own husband.
“Don’t go there,” she said, and drove home.
To an empty house. She and Jay had each had pets when they’d gotten together, but over the years the animals had aged and eventually passed on. As a couple, they’d talked about adopting another dog or cat but hadn’t gotten around to it. Jay’s half-blind dog Bruno had been his constant companion when he and Kristi had reconnected, and she’d had wonderful Houdini, her black cat who’d always had a hint of mystery, plus little Hairy S, a scruff of a terrier mix.
All now gone, she thought sadly.
As was Jay.
But there was the new little kitten and soon, hopefully, another dog.
With renewed determination, she shook off her melancholy and walked into the house, hesitating inside, but sensing no one had entered. The technician wasn’t due for another couple of hours, so she decided to take Bella’s advice and go for a run. She even considered calling her friend, but thought better of it. She wasn’t ready for company yet, but she would be and soon. She’d need her friends and she’d just have to gut through all their happy little stories about their lives, the tales of their husbands’ foibles, their kids’ accomplishments, the constant struggle with their co-workers and bosses, even their pets’ hilarious antics. It was time to get out of her own whirlpool of self-pity and get on with her life. True, her life was somewhat isolated and lonely, the nature of being a writer, and the subject matter of violent crime could be a real downer, but she’d just have to make an effort.
She discovered the kitten curled on her bed, a little fluff of black fur with round eyes that was already burrowing into her heart, a female that she’d dubbed Lenore in honor of one of her favorite poems by Poe.
She spent some time petting the little purring beast, then located her favorite Nikes, kicked off by the back door, slipped them on, and took off, running through the neighborhood and following her usual route. She noticed the houses as she passed, many with pumpkins, even jack-o’-lanterns on the porches.
There was a new strength in her pace, a fierceness in her stride, a determination to find herself. And not only that, she thought as she crossed the streetcar’s tracks, then jogged under the canopy of huge live oak trees and past the grand old homes of the Garden District, but she was going to quit moping around and find the son of a bitch who had killed her husband, the prick who had robbed her unborn child of ever knowing his or her father.
At the corner of Washington and Fourth Street, she had the sensation she was being followed, but a quick look over her shoulder told her that she was imagining anyone tailing her. That was the problem. Ever since the attack, she’d felt unseen eyes upon her and she’d been jumpy. Paranoid.
Then, discovering that someone had actually been in her house to leave her the disturbing card only increased her case of nerves.
She cut past Lafayette Cemetery with its graying marble tombs and wrought iron fence, then headed back to her house where she showered and dressed. Next up? The local animal shelter where she intended to find a big, fierce-looking dog, one that would run with her, cuddle with her, and most of all, deter anyone from daring to think they could ever break into her house again.
Once more she thought about the attack, the notes she’d received. Personal messages, aimed at her. Not Jay. He was just, to the assailant, collateral damage. She’d been the target that night. She thought back. She’d been late coming out of the dance studio, had to settle up a problem with her bill with the instructor, and when she’d stepped onto the street she encountered a downpour. Using her umbrella, she’d dashed across the street, run down the alley and, she was certain, the attacker had been waiting. And not for a random victim, no. Otherwise she wouldn’t be receiving the cards.
