Since Nic had had Makayla, she had spent every Christmas with her parents. For one thing, it just didn’t seem like Christmas when you only had two people to celebrate it, and Nic felt that all children deserved a real Christmas. Christmas wasn’t Christmas unless you were surrounded by family.
And then there was the matter of food. Lately, Nic’s meals had run more to take-out barbecue and cold cereal, but Mama could be counted on to make all the foods that made the holiday special: ham, creamed corn, collard greens, stewed tomatoes, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, and pecan pie. This afternoon, the table would be so full there would hardly be room for their plates.
Makayla poked her. “He came, Mama!” she repeated stubbornly.
There was no way Nic was going to be able to stay asleep, no matter how much her body longed for it.
“Get under the covers with me for a second. I’m cold.”
She wasn’t, but it was the only way she could still get Makayla to cuddle. She no longer let Nic hold her hand, even when they were crossing the street.
Nic wrapped her arms around her daughter, her own skin several shades darker than Makayla’s coffee with milk. As she held her daughter close, she wondered if the Converses would ever hold Katie again. Nic thought of their shadowed eyes. No matter how hard they pressed the hunt, even Katie’s parents already knew it was hopeless. The girl had to be dead. The only thing left was to discover where, how, and why. And to get the creep who had done it.
Makayla squirmed. “You’re squeezing too hard!”
Reluctantly, Nic released her. “So did Santa bring you a lot of presents?”
Makayla hadn’t believed in Santa Claus since she was six. Still, it was fun for both of them to pretend.
“Lots! And there’s one that has to be a bike! I touched it, and I could feel the handlebars and the seat and the pedals.” She got to her feet again and tugged her mother’s arm. “You have to come see.”
“Okay, maybe we can go downstairs and open up one present. A small one. But we have to be really quiet—Grandma and Grandpa are still sleeping.”
Later in the morning, Nicole’s three brothers would bring their families over, and they would all take turns unwrapping presents.
“No, they’re not. At least Grandma isn’t. She’s in the kitchen making cinnamon rolls.”
Cinnamon rolls. That was all Nic needed. With a groan colored by crumbling resistance, she climbed out of bed.
Her daughter danced from one foot to the other, braids bouncing. She already came up to Nic’s nose. Makayla was tall for a nine-year-old. People often thought she was older, because of her height. And she had the most unusual green eyes. Even strangers commented on them and sometimes asked where she had gotten them.
No matter how much she tried to pretend Makayla was all hers, there were times when the truth slapped Nic in the face. The green eyes, the height, the pale skin—it all came from Makayla’s daddy.
But Nicole had sworn to herself that Makayla would never, ever know that.
Or him.
RIVERSIDE CONDOMINIUMS
December 25
I’ve got to get ready for work,” Cassidy murmured. She was nestled into the crook of Rick’s arm, the sheets tangled around them. Their clothes were scattered all over the room. An empty wine bottle stood on the bureau, and another lay sideways on the floor.
His arm tightened. “You can’t go, baby. It’s not right. I still can’t believe you have to work on Christmas. Especially on a Saturday!”
“I lost the holiday lottery this year. But I get to fill in for Brad, so it’s not all bad. Some people think I’m anchor material. This will give me a chance to strut my stuff.”
Rick’s expression changed. “You’d better not be strutting it for anyone but me.”
She pushed his shoulder. “Ha-ha, very funny. When would I have time to see anyone else? I really don’t even have time for you.”
Leaning over, she gave him a peck. Rick turned it into a full-on kiss that threatened to become something more.
Cassidy finally managed to get him to let her up. As she got to her feet, a headache bloomed behind her eyes. What time had they gotten to bed? Had she ever really gone to sleep?
This thing with Rick was crazy and fast. Just the way Cassidy liked it. She liked the way he was watching her now, as she walked around her bedroom naked and pulled clothes from her closet. She didn’t even mind that her hair must look like a rat’s nest, although she did suck in her stomach. There was something about his ice-blue eyes, always at half-mast, that reminded her of some kind of animal. A wolf, maybe. Something that looked all tame and calm on the outside, but inside was anything but domesticated. He was always watching her, but she never knew what he was thinking. Maybe that came with the territory when you dated a cop.
After a long shower, Cassidy’s head felt a little clearer. She didn’t remember bringing it in here last night, but there was another bottle of wine in the bathroom. She took a long sip before she brushed her teeth. Surest way to get rid of a hangover, that’s what everyone always said.