Christmas with Daddy. C.J. Carmichael
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intently, then said, “You bet. Twenty minutes.”
After he hung up, he tunneled his fingers through his thick dark hair, then looked at her with a speculative gleam in his eye.
Oh, boy. “What is it?” she asked cautiously.
“I’m working on this case right now. A runaway teenager. She’s only fourteen.”
“That’s young,” she said.
“By all accounts she’s a good kid, from a good family. We’d like to find her as quickly as possible, for a lot of reasons, not the least because the streets aren’t exactly a safe place for someone like her.”
She nodded, agreeing, and understanding his urgency.
“We had a possible sighting at the mall in West Hartford. My partner’s not available, so I’d like to check it out.”
“Now?” Why was she asking? Of course he had to go now. “I can stay for a while, but I have to be home by quarter to five. Foster’s owner usually picks him up around then.”
Nick’s taut features relaxed with relief. “Thank you, Bridget. You’re amazing.”
Amazing. Nick Gray thought she was amazing. Of course she knew he meant this in a platonic, thanks-for-helping-me-out-in-a-pinch way, but still it was nice to hear.
He went to his bedroom and came out wearing a holster strapped to his chest. She did her best not to stare at this visible reminder of the dangers of his job. Noticing his keys on the floor by the front door, she picked them up and passed them to him.
Bridget was struck again by the domesticity of the situation. This must be what it would be like to be married to a cop. Only, if they were married, Nick would be kissing her goodbye right now…
Right. Dream on, Bridget. You’re the babysitter, not the girlfriend.
“Thanks, Bridget. Here’s one of my new business cards. Call my cell if you need me.”
He’d told her last month about his promotion. She glanced at the card before slipping it into her pocket. “Thanks, Detective.”
He gave her a boyish grin, full of self-conscious pride. “Yeah, I’m a bigwig now. You remember that.”
“I’m impressed. But I still need to be home by four forty-five.”
He nodded.
“You won’t be late?”
“I won’t be late.”
NICK WAS late. But it was only by five minutes. She’d give him another five, Bridget decided, before she panicked.
Mandy had woken half an hour ago and Bridget had changed her diaper and given her something to drink. Now Mandy was sitting on the floor next to Lefty. The boxer had befriended the baby, not seeming to mind at all when Mandy pulled his ears or poked at his whiskers.
The other dogs were still sleeping, worn-out by the long walk and the romp in Nick’s backyard. Herman was on the floor by Nick’s recliner, while Stanley and Foster were settled on the rug by the front door. Clearly they weren’t going to be left behind when it came time to leave.
Earlier, she’d found an old towel and used it to dry the pads on the dogs’ feet, then the puddles on the kitchen floor. And she’d cleaned up the mess she and Nick had made in the kitchen preparing Mandy’s lunch.
Now with the baby happily distracted by Lefty, Bridget had nothing to do. There were bookshelves next to the television. Maybe she should find something to read. Framed photographs next to the books distracted her, though. She found one of Nick and two other men who had to be his brothers.
Nice-looking guys, all of them, with thick dark hair and likable grins. But to her, only Nick had that special something. A sparkle in his eyes, a certain slant to his grin. She’d bet he had been a handful as a little boy.
There were other photos, too. One of an older woman—probably Nick’s mom. She had the same light blue eyes…like the sky on a cold winter day.
Bridget caught her breath when she noticed a wedding photo of Nick and Jessica. Oh my Lord, his wife had made such a beautiful bride. What would it be like to be that gorgeous?
When she was younger, Bridget had often despaired of her own wiry red hair and plain features. But not anymore. Being pretty didn’t guarantee a woman love and happiness. Wasn’t Jessica the perfect example of that? She and Nick may have looked like a Hollywood couple on their wedding day, but they’d never even celebrated their first anniversary.
Bridget moved on to the next shelf, which had been dedicated to chronicling the first six months of Mandy’s life. She smiled at the image of Mandy as a newborn, in her father’s arms. Nick looked happy but nervous.
He still seemed a little nervous around his daughter. Maybe this three-week vacation of his ex-wife’s was a blessing in disguise. He needed time to get comfortable with his new role as father.
She would help him with that.
As soon as she had the thought, she realized she was overreaching. Nick’s competence as a father wasn’t any of her business. Looking after Mandy didn’t change the nature of their relationship. They were neighbors. Good neighbors who looked out for one another and offered a hand, when needed.
Nothing else.
Bridget paced the main floor, as anxious as Lefty during a thunderstorm. Nowhere did she see any preparations for Christmas. No tree, no wrapping paper, no decorations.
Guys without families probably didn’t bother with those things. But Nick had a family now. Surely he’d want his daughter’s first Christmas to be special. Maybe she should suggest…
Oh, Lord, she was doing it again. Getting too involved. How Nick decided to spend the holidays with his daughter was none of her business, either.
The dogs. They were her business. She glanced at her watch. Five more minutes had passed. Still no sign of Nick.
Okay, now it was time to panic.
CHAPTER THREE
BRIDGET WAS ROUTED to messages on Nick’s cell phone. “It’s almost five,” she said. “If you’re not home in two minutes I’m taking Mandy to my place.”
She picked up the baby and coaxed a smile from her. It wasn’t hard to do. Mandy really was a doll. Obviously Lefty thought so, too. The boxer looked up at Bridget mournfully, as if to say, why did you have to take her away?
Bridget bundled Mandy into her snowsuit again, then settled her into the stroller cautiously. To her relief Mandy was perfectly happy to go on another outing.
Still, Bridget was not impressed. If Nick thought he could flash his sexy grin at her and get away with stunts like this, he was sorely mistaken.
NICK HAD BEEN PROMOTED to detective four weeks ago, and he loved it. He loved being able to dress in plain clothes and drive an unmarked car. He loved working regular hours instead of shifts and having his weekends free the majority of the time.
He especially loved the challenge of working on cases and feeling he was actually making a difference.
When he reached the mall, he parked and took out the photo he had of the missing girl. Tara Lang smiled up at him, her large brown eyes full of defiance.
Clearly she hadn’t wanted to pose for this photo. Who had taken it, he wondered? One of her parents, perhaps?
Fourteen years from now, would Mandy look at him like this if he tried to take her picture? He sure hoped not.
A group of kids were hanging out around the benches by the mall entrance, probably waiting for rides from their parents. He studied them as he passed by, but none of them came close to matching Tara’s description.
Once inside he headed for the food