Running Scared. Shirlee McCoy
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times when Eli was little, but the dark look Eli shot in his direction froze him in place.
Give him time.
It was what Kane’s mother and father had said. What his sister had said. What the experts had said. It wasn’t what Kane’s heart said. It said fix everything now. Swoop in and take control like he’d done when he’d worked as an attorney. But reconnecting with Eli was going to be a lot more difficult than bringing a case to trial had ever been.
At least he’d finally gotten the kid to bathe and get ready for bed. That had been a battle Kane hadn’t expected to fight with a child Eli’s age. Only seeing the panic in Eli’s eyes when sleep had been mentioned had kept Kane from insisting that his son go to bed at a reasonable time.
Now, at nearly one in the morning, Eli’s excitement and adrenaline seemed to have worn off, and his pale face and the dark circles beneath his eyes hinted at an exhaustion that went far beyond simple lack of sleep.
“Do you want a drink of water?” Kane asked, the question as lame and useless as he felt.
“No. Thank you.” Eli turned onto his side so that his back was to Kane, his red hair just showing over the blanket he’d pulled up around his shoulders.
That was Kane’s cue to walk away. He knew it but couldn’t quite get his feet to move.
“What time does Mom and Dad’s plane arrive tomorrow?” his sister Jenna asked, and Kane forced himself to turn away from his son and face her.
The look of sympathy on her face let him know just how pitiful he looked—a father who couldn’t even offer his son a kiss goodnight. “Ten.”
“Do they want me to pick them up at the airport?”
“No, they’re renting a car.” Kane moved across the room, grabbing the cup of coffee he’d left on a corner table. It was cold and bitter, but he downed it anyway, his throat parched from too many emotions and the strain of holding them in.
“Keep drinking coffee and you’ll never get to sleep.” Jenna rose from the couch, stretched to her full five-foot height. Short red hair spiked around a pale, pretty face. She looked exhausted.
“I’m too hyped up to sleep.”
“Maybe so, but we’ve been up since yesterday morning. It’s time to crash. Tomorrow is another day, after all, and I’m sure we’ll have plenty that needs doing.” She ran a hand over her hair and smiled. Of Kane’s three sisters, Jenna was the only one still single and childless, and she’d been quick to volunteer to hop on a plane and fly to Spokane, Washington, with him. It had been Jenna who’d booked a hotel room. Jenna who’d thought to rent the SUV. Jenna who had been the calm in the storm of Kane’s emotions, but two years fighting leukemia had taken a lot out of her, and it showed in her hollow cheeks and dark-rimmed eyes.
He crossed the room and pulled her into a gentle hug. She’d always been athletic and strong, a gymnast who’d pushed her body to the limit and who’d attended college on a full athletic scholarship. Now she was frail, her body too thin and delicate. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She returned the hug and stepped back, looking up into his eyes.
“For not thinking about how difficult this trip would be on you.”
“On me? What about you? You’re the one who’s just found his son again.” She frowned, and Kane knew she would never admit that the cancer had robbed her of her strength, never admit that was the reason she was tired. She was strong, tough and independent, and the last thing she would ever accept was pity.
“True, but I’m still hopped up on adrenaline, and there’s no way I can sleep. You take the other double bed in the bedroom. I’ll take the pull-out in here.”
“I’m sure you want to be in the room with Eli,” she responded, crossing to the small refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of water.
True, but he wasn’t sure his son wanted him there.
He didn’t say that, just poured more coffee from a half-full pot and shook his head. “I’ll only be a few yards away from him, and you can get some sleep while I do some work. I’ve got a half-dozen clients I left hanging when I flew out of New York, and I need to let them know their cases are still being handled.”
“All right, but if you want to boot me out of bed later, just wake me up.” She smiled wanly, and for the first time since they’d gotten on the plane the previous day, Kane really looked at his sister. Her skin wasn’t just pale, it was parchment white, her freckles standing out in stark contrast. Her clothes hung off her narrow frame.
“Are you okay, Jen?”
“Besides being exhausted? Yes.”
“I mean really okay.”
“You mean is the cancer back. I went to the doctor two weeks ago for a three-month check, and my numbers all look great, so stop worrying.”
“Did the doctor say anything else besides that your numbers look good?”
“No, and even if he had, now wouldn’t be the time to discuss it. You have your son back, Kane. You’ve got what you’ve been dreaming of for years. That’s all you should be thinking about.”
“I have what I’ve been dreaming of, but that doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you. So, what, exactly, did the doctor say?”
“Nothing except come back in three months. Just like every checkup. Now, stop worrying.”
A sharp knock at the door stopped Kane from asking more questions. He frowned, crossing the room quickly and peering out the peephole. Up until now, the press had been respectful, waiting outside the hotel and asking questions when he emerged or calling to see if he’d be willing to give an interview, but he didn’t expect that to last forever. “Yes?”
“Mr. Dougherty, it’s Deputy Rick Lesnever, Spokane County Sheriff’s department.”
“Do you have ID?” Kane asked, opening the door and nodding as the deputy flashed his badge. “It’s a little late for a visit isn’t it, Deputy?”
“We’ve had an incident, and the sheriff wanted me to come ask you a few questions.” The deputy was young, maybe mid-twenties, and he looked nervous, his gaze jumping from Kane to Jenna and back again.
“Incident?” Kane asked, stepping aside and letting the man in.
“Maggie Tennyson said you were out at her place a little after nine tonight.”
“That’s right.”
“She was attacked a couple hours later.”
“Attacked by whom?” Kane asked, his mind racing back to the moment he’d met Maggie. She’d been nervous, edgy and scared, but he’d chalked that up to being approached by a stranger on a dark, deserted road. What he hadn’t been able to explain was her need to stay anonymous, her obvious concern that someone would know Kane and Eli had been to visit her.
He’d wondered what she was hiding, but he hadn’t pushed for answers.
He should have.
“We don’t know. We’re hoping that you might be able to help shed some light on that.”
“You don’t think my brother had something to do with it?!” Jenna exclaimed, her eyes flashing with irritation.
“Mr. Dougherty isn’t a suspect, but we’re hoping that he may have seen something—”
“What’s going on? Is Ms. Tennyson okay?” Eli peered out of the bedroom, his hair mussed. Barely four feet tall and probably less than fifty pounds, Eli looked younger than nine, but his eyes were old and filled with anxiety.
“She should be fine,” the deputy responded, smiling kindly at Eli. “We just wanted to ask your father a few questions.”
“But