A Cop's Honor. Emilie Rose
to sneak out Wednesday night.”
That could be cause for alarm, but it could also just be Mason acting like an adolescent. “I snuck out plenty of times as a kid—usually to go somewhere with Rick. What did he have with him?”
“His backpack.”
“What was in it?”
She blinked. “I don’t know.”
“Didn’t you look?”
“No. That’s a violation of privacy.”
“You’re his parent, not his pal. Privacy is a privilege that must be earned.” Or so his parents always claimed.
“I disagree. To teach respect you must show it.”
“When he’s thirty. Right now he’s a kid with problems. You have probable cause and the right to search.”
“You sound like a cop.”
“Because I am one. Either you want my help or you don’t.”
She tipped her head back to stare at the dense leaf canopy. Then she swallowed and met his gaze. “Do you know how hard it was for me to call you? I wouldn’t have if I’d had anyone else.”
Regret twisted through him at the agony on her face. Talking to Hannah had once been almost as easy as talking to one of his sisters. She’d always been smart, informed and funny. “What about your dad or Rick’s parents?”
Her mother had never been part of the picture. Rick hadn’t told Brandon why.
“Dad’s stationed in Italy right now. He’s too far away to visit us more than once a year, and our parenting views...differ. Rick’s parents think I’m a horrible mother. They fuss continually because my kids are ‘ill-mannered and don’t respect others’ property.’ Once a month we visit them or they come here, but...it’s not a good relationship no matter how hard I try to fix it.”
Some things never changed. On his few visits to Rick’s house he’d learned not to touch anything. “I take it their house is still full of priceless collectibles?”
“Yes. In the Leiths’ eyes I don’t do anything right, and neither do my kids. Mason and Belle hate visiting them. But I want them to know their grandparents. I always lived too far away to see mine, and then they were gone and it was too late.”
“What you’re saying is, Rick’s parents are still uptight pains in the ass?”
She grimaced. “Pretty much. They keep pushing me to move closer so they can watch the kids when they’re not in school. What they really want to do is ‘fix them.’ But I don’t want to leave our home.”
Her gaze bounced away. He waited, suspecting the speech she was formulating in her mind would be the core reason she’d called him.
Worry-clouded eyes found his. “The Leiths miss their son, and they’re clinging to my children as a replacement—especially Mrs. Leith. When she heard about Mason’s troubles at school she insisted her precious Richard had never had behavior issues, and if Mason did it had to be my fault. She’s threatened to ‘call in a professional.’ I don’t know if she means a psychologist or social services, but neither would be good. Like you, she assumed I was bringing unsuitable men into the house, and when I assured her I wasn’t, she said he had to be learning his filthy language from me. Which, she went on to tell me, made me an unfit parent.”
“She was always a vengeful bitch.”
She’d tried to get Brandon fired after Rick’s death and throughout the follow-up investigation. Because of the Leiths’ clout with South Carolina’s movers and shakers, it had been a serious threat. He’d had to deal not only with his grief over losing his best friend and the threat of losing the job he loved, but also second-guessing his judgment because he’d let Rick talk him out of following protocol.
“I’m a good parent, Brandon. I do my best to provide for my children. I never leave them unsupervised, and I send them to the best after-school program I can afford. But I saw a friend who was an excellent parent lose custody of her children when her ex-husband manufactured things. What he accused her of wasn’t true, but it cast enough doubt for her to end up with supervised visitation only. Like the Leiths, he’s loaded and connected, and like me, my friend doesn’t have the money to fight. I’m trying to give the Leiths as much access to the grandchildren as I can to keep them happy, but I’m afraid of what Rick’s mom can do with the ammunition Mason is unwittingly giving her.”
The fear in her eyes was genuine, and he understood her concern. He’d seen exactly what she described—great parents losing custody. “Hannah, I witnessed the way you ‘mothered’ for your first five years of parenthood. If that hasn’t changed, there’s no way you could be considered a bad parent.”
“Thank you for saying that. But I can’t risk it. In her grief Mrs. Leith doesn’t always...think rationally. And her friends have clout. I don’t.”
Being a single parent with no backup had to be hard. His family was close. He had his mom and dad, two sisters and two brothers-in-law he could call on at any time for anything. Not that he had ever asked for help, but he knew they’d be there for him if he did—the same way he’d be there for them. No questions asked. He would have been that for Hannah and her kids—if she had let him. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Which brought him back to the problem at hand.
“Was Mason running away?”
“He claims he was going to study with a friend.”
“But you don’t believe him?”
She worried her bottom lip with her teeth and took another one of those breast-swelling breaths. He jacked his gaze north. “No. It was an hour after bedtime. Mason doesn’t make friends easily. And he refuses to tell me this supposed one’s name or where he lives. I’ve asked his teachers, and none know of any new friends he’s made.”
Rick hadn’t made friends easily, either. He’d been a late-in-life, surprise baby. The Leiths hadn’t known what to do with the child they’d brought home from the hospital or how to interact with the brilliant boy he’d become. They’d raised him to be a little adult. Seen and not heard and all that crap.
And then Brandon had come along. He’d intervened on the first day of second grade when one of the fifth graders on the bus had tried to bully the prissy new kid on their route—Rick. Brandon had given the bully a bloody nose and gained a loyal friend. Rick had become Brandon’s sidekick. He’d visited the Martins’ orchard every time Rick’s workaholic parents had let him. Out in the peach groves Rick had learned how to be a kid, how to climb trees, get dirty and make noise—all the stuff he wasn’t allowed to do at home. And Brandon had made sure his geeky buddy learned to defend himself.
Rick should have been here to teach those same lessons to his son. But he wasn’t. And if Brandon had done things differently that day—He pushed aside the familiar weight settling on his chest.
“I’d offer to speak to the Leiths for you, but I’m not high on their good list, either.” They blamed Brandon for turning their brilliant son away from a safe and lucrative, white-collar law career toward a dangerous, low-paying blue-collar law enforcement job. Mrs. Leith had said that if not for Brandon, her son would have gone to college and graduate school and he’d still be alive.
“I don’t think they like many people. But they do love my children...in their own peculiar way.”
“What do you want me to do, Hannah?”
“I need you to talk to Mason—unofficially, of course—and see if you can figure out what’s going on.”
Brandon leaned back. Here it was. The opportunity to fulfill his promise to Rick—to watch out for Rick’s family. But he was ill-equipped for the job. What if he failed? “Hannah, I know almost nothing about kids.”
“You’re my son’s godfather. You have to help.”