Hard To Handle. Kylie Brant

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      His reminder was unnecessary, since he forced her to repeat the assurance several times a day. “I promised.”

      Once he was on this particular subject, Danny was extremely tenacious. “That means candles and cake. And friends. How many friends can I invite?”

      Not for the first time since Danny had come to live with her, Meghan felt hopelessly out of her depth. “I’m not sure.”

      “How about six? That’s fair, ’cuz I’m gonna be six.”

      Sheer terror seized her for a moment at the thought of dealing with seven six-year-olds. She drew a deep breath and released it. “I guess.” His reasoning sounded logical enough. What did she know, after all, about what was “fair” when planning a birthday party for a child? What did she know about any child, and Danny in particular? The answers were depressingly obvious.

      “Sweet!” He bounced up and down in his seat, testing the restraint of his seat belt. She’d successfully sidetracked his thoughts from the man he’d seen in the alley. And from the compelling detective who had questioned Meghan. She wished futilely that her own attention could be diverted as easily.

      The sight of her apartment building had never been so welcome. Meghan punched her code into the security system, anxious to reach the privacy of her home. Her relief might be unfounded, but she would feel safe there from the shrewd gaze of the detective and from questions that she’d be better off avoiding.

      “Aunt Meggie?”

      “Hmm?” The door swung open, and she guided Danny into the foyer of the building.

      “Why’d that taxi guy want your pants?”

      Her gaze jerked to meet the boy’s puzzled one. “What?”

      “The whole time in the taxi, he kept thinking he’d like to get in your pants. I don’t see why. They wouldn’t fit him, would they?”

      A sheerly feminine response had her sending a fuming glance after the taxi, which was already driving away. Then reaction set in and closed like a fist around her throat. It took more effort than it should have to to keep her voice calm. “Remember what you’re learning about not walking around in other people’s heads?”

      He looked down and scuffed one foot along the floor. “Yeah. But I didn’t walk right in. It was more like he left the door open. I couldn’t help seeing his thoughts when they were spilling out all over the place, could I?”

      She studied the boy, little more than a baby really. The feeling of helplessness threatening to swamp her was all too familiar. Her sister, Sandra, had never mentioned Danny’s father, but the boy was blond like his mother, like Meghan herself. Perhaps he’d gotten his coloring from her sister. Certainly he’d inherited Sandra’s psychic ability. The same ability she’d alternately ignored or exploited all her life.

      She pushed away the accompanying flash of guilt and kept her voice firm. “You have to try. No mind games, all right?”

      He nodded, his head still bent. Telepathic would be the best description of the infant ability he’d inherited from his mother, but Sandra had always called it mind games, as if the mental raids she’d made into other people’s heads had been playful entertainment for all involved. As if her gift hadn’t turned their childhood into a war zone.

      As if it hadn’t ended up getting Sandra killed.

      When her doorbell sounded the next afternoon, Meghan glanced at the clock, faintly surprised by the hour. Her schedule had undergone major adjustments since Danny had come to live with her. The only time she had in her home studio were the hours he was at school. Every minute was precious, especially with a deadline looming for her next project. But it was almost time for Callie, who lived down the hall, to drop Danny off. She must be running a little early.

      The bell rang again before Meghan reached the door and pulled it open. “Boy, you’re eager to get rid of him today. Don’t tell me he…” The rest of the words died in her throat as she found herself face-to-face with two men; one a stranger and the other all too familiar.

      “This is Detective Madison, Miss Patterson.” Her gaze flying to Connally’s, Meghan knew she hadn’t imagined the slight inflection he’d given her name. The smile he gave her was humorless. “And I’m going to assume you remember my name, even though you had a little difficulty with your own yesterday.”

      Her palms went damp, and she barely resisted an urge to wipe them on her loose-fitting shirt. The force of his presence struck her anew. His eyes were hard and inscrutable. They seemed to drill through her, effortlessly shredding all pretense, all subterfuge. Somehow she’d never imagined that Connally would bother to go to the trouble of finding her. Of finding Danny.

      It was that thought that had tension gripping her muscles. Her chin angled up and she met his gaze. “Being a detective, you should have concluded that I gave you a false name yesterday because I wanted to avoid just this kind of harassment.”

      “Being a detective,” Connally countered, “I get kinda suspicious when people go to such lengths to avoid talking to me. We had to trace you through the cab company you used.”

      Meghan set her lips, but remained silent. She wasn’t sure what kind of tack to take with the detective. Defiance didn’t seem to work. Nor had her phony compliance yesterday. He didn’t appear to be a man who gave up easily. In contrast to his partner’s lived-in face, with its homely charm, this man’s features could have been carved from granite. She was beginning to believe that he had a will to match.

      Surreptitiously, she glanced at her watch. Danny would be home in minutes. It was imperative that she get rid of the detectives before then.

      “I’m afraid I don’t have much time.” Even as she spoke, Connally seemed to loom closer, and she retreated in immediate, involuntary response. Then somehow the men were standing inside her doorway, although she’d had no intention of letting them in. She thought she caught a flash of satisfaction in Connally’s pale eyes before he closed the door behind him, and the sight of it stiffened her spine.

      Her gaze swung to Detective Madison, who was speaking for the first time. “Sorry for the interruption. You didn’t answer your buzzer, but the super told us that he hadn’t seen you go out today. He let us in.”

      With a firmer grip on her composure now, Meghan pasted a polite smile on her face. “I’m afraid Detective Connally has wasted your time. I already told him yesterday that I hadn’t seen anything while I was at the toy store.”

      “It’s real important that we find the man we’re tracing, ma’am.” Madison’s voice had a placating quality that his partner’s lacked. “You left Favorite Things kind of suddenly last night. We just wanted to follow up to see if maybe you’d remembered something since then.”

      “Mind telling us why you were in such a hurry to get away?” Connally’s gaze was directed above her head as he surveyed her apartment, before focusing once more on her.

      She forced a casual shrug. “I’d arranged for the driver to come back for us. You know what it’s like to find a cab at that time of day.”

      “That’s sure a fact, isn’t it?” Detective Madison’s tone was understanding. “Last week I tried to take my wife out for a nice dinner and we had a devil СКАЧАТЬ