‘I’ll protect you from fallout,’ Adam promised. ‘It’ll be on me.’
Trip’s face hardened. ‘If I walk into this with you, I’m doing it on my own and I’ll take my own damn consequences. You guys treat me like “the kid.” I’m not. You got me?’
‘I do,’ Adam said levelly, because Trip’s point was fair. ‘You get that everyone here will know we’ve talked to Diesel. Everyone will know why we’re here. Kendra will know why.’
‘I figured that out myself,’ Trip said, as if Adam were the kid. ‘It changes nothing.’
Adam nodded once, respect swelling. ‘Got it.’
Trip gestured to the door. ‘Then lead on.’
Meredith met them at the door, her eyes wary as she studied them both. ‘Gentlemen, please come in. Pardon the noise, it’s a little crowded in here.’
The sheer life of the house hit Adam squarely in the face as soon as he crossed over the threshold. Amazing scents came from the kitchen. Gingerbread maybe. Conversations were being shouted over the television where a video game battle raged between Bailey’s husband, Ryan Beardsley, and an older man with a bald head and a tat peeking out of his collar. Bailey’s daughter, Hope, sat in the older man’s lap, but her presence wasn’t impacting the old guy’s performance at all, because he was clearly winning.
Adam remembered what Deacon had told him. ‘The grandfather is some video game developer,’ he murmured, and Trip’s brows shot up.
‘And Diesel isn’t here playing with him? He must have something really good.’
‘Papa,’ Meredith called over the din. ‘Can you pause it?’ The noise immediately quieted, then silenced as the conversations halted.
Ryan Beardsley gave them both a wave, then tugged on his daughter’s ponytail. ‘Hope, come sit with me. Let Papa meet Aunt Meredith’s friends.’
Hope slid off the older man’s lap, but remained standing next to him as she gave Adam and Trip a narrow-eyed perusal. ‘Did you catch him yet?’ she asked. ‘The man who tried to kill Aunt Meredith?’
‘Not yet.’ Adam answered her question as gravely as she’d asked it. ‘We’re working on it, very hard.’
‘Good,’ Hope said with a frown. ‘This was a bad day.’
‘Yes,’ Adam agreed. ‘But it could have been far worse. Your aunt is okay, right?’
‘Yes,’ Meredith said dryly. ‘She is fine and she is standing right here. Hope, can you go to the kitchen and check on the cookies? We should be able to ice them soon.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ Hope said glumly. ‘You just want to get rid of me.’
Bailey appeared in the doorway. ‘I wonder why that is? Come on, kiddo. Let’s see if we can figure out how to decorate gingerbread men with tattoos for Papa and Diesel.’
‘And gingerbread girls with tats,’ Hope said, leaning up to kiss the old man’s cheek. ‘Because I’m getting one as soon as I’m eighteen.’
The old man rose as Hope walked away. ‘You will do no such thing, young lady.’ He chuckled when Hope made a face before joining her mother in the kitchen. ‘So you’re the cops on Merry’s case. Good. I’m her grandfather, Clarke Fallon.’
Merry. Yes, that fit Meredith to a T. ‘I’m Detective Kimble.’ Adam shook the old man’s hand and found himself biting back a wince. There was clearly a warning there.
‘Special Agent Triplett.’ Trip shook hands as well. ‘When did you arrive, sir?’
The old man didn’t even blink. ‘My itinerary,’ he said, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. ‘Thank you for asking.’
He didn’t sound sarcastic. He actually sounded approving. Trip reviewed the page and handed it back to him. ‘Thank you, sir. We needed to check. Your arriving on the same day as an attempt is made on your granddaughter’s life is . . . coincidental.’
‘Providential,’ Ryan corrected and Adam remembered the man had been a chaplain.
Meredith smiled indulgently up at her grandfather. ‘A gift.’
Adam tore his eyes away from her face. ‘Where—’ He had to clear his throat, because he wanted her to look at him like that. So damn badly. ‘Where is Diesel?’
‘Basement,’ Meredith said, pointing. ‘It got too crowded up here.’
‘Door’s through the kitchen,’ Clarke said. ‘I’ll show you down.’
‘Adam knows the way,’ Meredith said quietly.
Adam couldn’t stop himself. His gaze flew back to her face, remembering the last time he’d been in her house. It had been pouring down rain and he’d stood out in the street, getting soaking wet as he fought with himself on whether or not he should go inside. She’d spied him standing there, beckoned him in. Her face had been resigned that evening. Like she knew he needed her, but that she couldn’t trust him not to hurt her.
Because the first time he’d been here, he’d left her sleeping in her bed without a word. No note. No goodbye. No thank you. Because I’m a coward. Time to change that.
‘Yes. I had gotten caught in a rain storm,’ Adam said, watching her grandfather from the corner of his eye. The old man knew. Adam wasn’t sure how much he knew, but he knew enough, because Clarke Fallon’s eyes narrowed. ‘I was dripping all over her carpet, so I changed downstairs. I know the way. Agent Triplett?’
The kitchen was filled to bursting with three women, a child, an enormous dog, trays of baked gingerbread men, and something bubbling in a pot on the stove that smelled like heaven. Adam’s stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since the power bar Deacon had given him.
Behind him, Trip groaned. ‘Damn, that smells good. I could eat an entire cow.’
Bailey was pulling another tray of cookies from the oven, Delores was peeling potatoes at the sink, and Kendra chilled at the kitchen table, looking more relaxed than Adam had ever seen her. He knew the feeling. He’d found peace at Meredith’s table too.
‘No, Angel,’ Hope scolded the dog, who was nosing the plate in her hands. Adam couldn’t blame the dog because there were three un-iced gingerbread men on the plate. ‘They’re for the detectives.’ She crossed the kitchen with her offering. ‘They’re warm.’ Her eyes twinkled with mischief. ‘But naked. Sorry.’
Trip couldn’t control his laugh this time, and it came snorting out. ‘Naked cookies? Miss Kendra told you to say that, didn’t she?’
Kendra grinned up at Trip. ‘Not gonna lie.’
Bailey just shook her head. ‘Hope,’ she said, exasperated.
Hope waggled her brows. ‘I’m going to get punished later, but it was worth it. One is for Mr Diesel, okay?’
Adam took the plate. ‘I’ll make sure he gets it,’ he promised with a smile. ‘Thanks.’
Hope gave him a long, long look, her smile fading. ‘Please find the shooter soon.’
‘I’ll do my very best,’ Adam promised again, far more gravely, because she looked so worried and because she’d said the shooter – a term no nine-year-old should ever know.
‘Have you guys eaten?’ Delores asked them.
‘No,’ Trip said before Adam could get out a word.
‘But we can’t stay,’ Adam said, wishing it weren’t so.
Delores waved them toward the stairs with a smile. ‘Then I’ll fix you both a plate to take with you.’
Thanking her, they went down the stairs that Adam remembered so damn well. The wall was paneled in light wood, giving the narrow stairwell a much larger feel. It opened to a great room, paneled the same way. There was a comfortable sofa and two loveseats arranged like a smile, all facing the giant flat screen on the wall. This was where Meredith and her girlfriends watched movies once a month. It was cozy. Welcoming. Just like her.
‘Finally,’ Diesel said, looking up from his laptop, sitting behind a desk in the far corner of the room. ‘Took you long enough to get here. Hurry up. I smell food upstairs.’
Adam crossed the room. ‘What did you find out?’
Diesel lifted a dark brow. ‘You have a chance to view footage of the school track, church, and grocery store?’
‘Yes,’ Adam said. ‘I know who I’m looking for. Obviously, you do too.’
‘She could tell me,’ Diesel said quietly, responding more to Adam’s arch tone than his words. ‘I’m not a cop.’
Adam sighed. ‘I’m sorry. You’re right.’