FOR THE CHILDREN Page 2

  Abby glanced over at Kane, then back at the two policemen. "Then what's the FBI doing here?"

  Both of the young officers shuffled their feet and looked uncomfortable. "If you don't know, ma'am, maybe Mr. Kane should be the one to tell you." It was the first officer who spoke again.

  Abby turned to Kane. "Well, Mr. Kane?"

  He ignored her. "Are you two finished here?" he asked the police officers.

  "Yes, sir. We just have to fill out a report, and we can do that in the car." They turned to Abby again. "You'll want to put something over that broken window tonight. If you hear anything else, you just call. Good night, Ms. Markham, Mr. Kane."

  The two officers walked out the front door, closing it gently behind them. Damien turned to her. "Why don't we sit down? It may take a while to explain what's going on."

  "What do you mean, it might take a while?" Abby's fear came rushing back. The sense of something wrong, which had been hanging over her head ever since her sister had dropped off the twins, blossomed into a sick feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.

  Damien stood in the middle of her living room, watching her. "How much notice did your sister give you when she asked you to watch her daughters?"

  "She called in the afternoon, as soon as her boss told her about the trip, and brought them over in the evening." Abby swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump of fear sticking in her throat. She couldn't look away from the man standing in front of her. He seemed to fill the room with his presence.

  "How long had she known about this business trip?"

  "She called me as soon as she found out. She was angry that her boss hadn't given her any notice."

  "Does this happen often?"

  "What does my sister have to do with a prowler?" Abby felt her fear growing, swelling inside her until it swallowed everything else.

  "I'll tell you in a moment. Does she have to go away on short notice very often?"

  Slowly Abby shook her head. "She has to go on business trips once in a while, but she usually has several days' notice. Her boss knows she has children and has to make arrangements for them."

  "What about their father?"

  She tightened her mouth. "He isn't a part of their lives. He hasn't been since before they were born."

  "Would her boss know she'd leave her children with you?" Abby nodded. "I always take care of them when she has to go away."

  He watched her carefully. "Did your sister talk about anything unusual that might have happened at work that day?" His eyes hardened, and for an instant he was an implacable foe.

  She shook her head. "No. She was worried about the twins and leaving them on such short notice. She barely had time to get them over to me before she had to catch her plane."

  He turned away, but not before she saw the frustration on his face. "A man was murdered at the construction site where your sister works. We think it happened on the day she left on the business trip, but the body wasn't found for another day. So she probably didn't even know about it."

  Taking a deep breath, he continued, "Apparently your nieces were with their mother the day it happened. Other people who work at the site say the girls sometimes play just outside the office. It's possible they saw it happen."

  "Murder?" she whispered, appalled. "I haven't heard about a murder around here. Are you sure that Maggie and Casey might have seen someone murdered?" She wrapped her arms around her waist and stared at the man watching her.

  He nodded grimly. "We haven't released the information yet. And I find it very suspicious that your sister was whisked away on a business trip right after Joey was murdered. It looks to me like someone deliberately separated her from her children before the girls would have a chance to tell her what they saw."

  His gaze bored into her. "Have you ever had a problem with prowlers before this?"

  "No." She shook her head numbly.

  "I didn't think so. I think that the people who killed Joey Stefanetto know your nieces saw something. And they're trying to make sure they don't tell what they know."

  "You don't know for sure that they saw this murder," she whispered. "They haven't said anything to me."

  "That's possible." She thought his eyes softened just a little. "I hope, for their sakes, that they didn't see Joey killed. But until we know for sure, I'm going to assume that they did."

  A suffocating cloud of horror seemed to surround Abby. "Maggie has crawled into bed with me every night, saying she was having a bad dream," she whispered. "I just assumed it was because her mother left so abruptly."

  His lips thinned. "I think there's more to it than that. We've been looking for your nieces for the past five days, Ms. Markham. I was afraid they were with your sister."

  "How did you find them?" Abby asked.

  "One of your sister's co-workers told me this afternoon that the girls might be with you. Then this evening I saw your police report from last night and realized the girls were indeed with you. I was on my way to your house when the police called me to tell me about the prowler." His eyes hardened. "I've been checking every police report from the greater Las Vegas area since the day your sister left town. I was beginning to think that I wouldn't find her daughters alive."

  Abby's head spun and her stomach roiled. "Why wouldn't my nieces be alive, Mr. Kane? What's going on?"

  "The man who was killed was a witness in a federal racketeering case that's almost ready to go to trial. He was a member of the Mob, and he was prepared to testify against the people who paid him." His mouth tightened. "So if there are witnesses who saw who killed him, they would be in great danger."

  "Why are you involved?" she asked.

  His eyes looked like black stones, hard and implacable. "This was my case. I spent a lot of time putting it together, and it's a big blow to lose our star witness. I need to know who killed him."

  She was horribly afraid she did understand. "And you think my nieces can tell you who did it."

  "I'm not sure, no. But I think there's a good chance. And now that I've found them, I have no intention of letting them out of my sight until they tell me what they know."

  "They may not know anything, Mr. Kane," she said, praying that it was true. "And even if they did see this man killed, they're just little girls. They wouldn't understand what had happened."

  "It's my job to find out what they did see. If they weren't anywhere around when Joey was murdered, fine." He stared at her with his disturbing eyes, dark and compelling. "But if they didn't see anything, why are they having nightmares, Ms. Markham?" His voice was soft and relentless.

  Please, God, let this not be true, she prayed. "Casey and Maggie are five years old," she said, desperation tinging her voice. "They miss their mother. Maybe that's all it is."

  "Maybe." She knew from his tone be didn't think that was the reason for the nightmares.

  "How long did your sister say she would be gone?" He sat down across from her, and some of his intensity seemed to ease. It was almost as if they were carrying on a normal conversation.

  "Janna didn't know." She looked at him as the horror of what had happened grew. "She's in danger, too, isn't she?"

  "I'm afraid so." His eyes softened again. "She probably doesn't know anything about the murder. And as long as she doesn't, she should be safe."

  "She would never have left the girls if she thought something was wrong." Abby's voice was low and passionate.

  "You're probably right. Everything I've found out about her indicates that she's a devoted mother." He watched her carefully. "Do you know where she is?"

  "She's in Mexico." Abby hurried into the kitchen and gave him the piece of paper that listed her sister's hotel and her phone number. "Didn't anyone at her office know where she'd gone?"

  His lips tightened. "Apparently the trip was so spur-of-the-moment that no one thought to tell her co-workers where she'd be." He studied the piece of paper she'd handed him then folded it into his pocket. "We'll get someone down there immediately. And now you're involved,
too." He studied her. "Isn't it hard on you, taking care of two children and not knowing how long it would be?"

  "I don't consider it a hardship to take care of my nieces," she declared, eyes blazing at him. "I'm thrilled at the opportunity to spend time with them."

  "Who watches them while you work?"

  "No one. I'm a teacher. I teach elementary school, and since this is the summer, I'm not working."

  He stood up and paced around her living room. His long, lean body, dressed all in black, seemed to send out waves of energy, filling the space and making the room seem small and too crowded. She wanted to step outside, to take a deep breath, but all she could do was watch him pace.

  "I'll need to talk to the girls in the morning," he finally said. "I need to find out what they saw, as soon as possible."

  "They must have been so frightened," she whispered. "Maybe they've already forgotten all about it. If you question them, maybe it will only force them to remember something they need to forget."

  "That's not the way it works, Ms. Markham." She saw pain sear his eyes for a moment, then it was gone. "It doesn't do any good to bury it. It'll only fester somewhere deep down inside of them."

  "We'll leave town," she said, desperate to protect the twins from the pain of remembering. "We'll go away until the person who killed your Joey is caught."

  He shook his head. "You can't run away. You're nieces won't be safe until they've told someone what they know. As long as the killer thinks your nieces are witnesses, he won't stop until he silences them. One of my sources has told me that men are searching for your nieces. There's a lot at stake for a number of people, and those girls won't be safe until the murderer is caught."

  "I'm not running away," she said, fear overwhelming her. "I just want to protect them."

  "Believe me, I want the same thing. But running isn't going to do it."

  "All right, I'll think about it."

  "You do that and we'll discuss it in the morning." Pain flashed in his eyes again. "I'm certainly not going to wake them up to talk to them now."

  "Give me your card," she said, standing up. "I'll call you in the morning."

  He gave her an incredulous look. "I'm not going anywhere. Your nieces are important witnesses to a serious crime, and they are very likely in danger. I'm going to stay right here."

  "You can't stay in my house tonight!"

  "Why not?" He gave her a level look.

  "Because … because." She couldn't tell him the truth, that he disturbed her at a very basic level. She was too aware of him, but this wasn't about her. It was about Maggie and Casey and their safety.

  "Fine," she said, too sharply.

  As she turned away, a high, thin wail pierced the air. The sound made the hair rise on the back of her neck. It came from the room where the twins were sleeping. Taking the steps two at a time, she reached the door just as Maggie stumbled into the hallway.

  Her eyes were closed and her blanket was clutched tightly in one hand. Abby sank to the floor and scooped her up, holding her close and rocking her. When she turned her head to kiss the girl's cheek, she found it wet with tears.

  "What is it, honey?" she whispered. "What's wrong, Maggie?"

  Maggie curled her anus around Abby's neck and buried her face in her throat. "There's something wrong with my white blanket, Aunt Abby. Look at it," she sobbed. "It's all red."

  Abby glanced down at the blanket, tucked between their bodies. It looked the same as it had when she'd tucked it next to Maggie, a tattered grayish white. There wasn't a spot of color on it.

  When she raised her head, she met Damien Kane's eyes as he crouched on the stairs behind her, his gun drawn.

  * * *

  Chapter 2

  «^»

  Damien watched Abby Markham rock the little girl, murmuring soothing words and stroking her hair. Her arms were wrapped tightly around the child, shielding her from whatever horrors she'd faced in her sleep. Abby reminded him of a lioness, protecting one of her cubs from a threatening world.

  Her eyes met his across the top of the small blond head. In them he saw pain and fear for the girl, but there was a challenge in their hazel depths that surprised him. She was questioning his ability to protect the child, he realized with a deep jolt of surprise. It wasn't often that anyone challenged Damien Kane.

  And it wasn't often that he noticed the color of a woman's eyes, either. Uncomfortable with his reaction, he turned and walked down the stairs, holstering his gun at the same time. He didn't want to know any more about Abby Markham than how to persuade her to let him talk to her nieces. He wanted no part of her or her hazel eyes.

  Walking into the kitchen, he studied the neat counters, trying to block out the pain he'd heard in the child's voice. He didn't want to feel it. He couldn't bear to feel it. All he wanted to do was find out who had killed Joey Stefanetto.

  It seemed like a long time before Abby came back down the stairs. She walked into the kitchen, looking at everything but him

  "She's finally back to sleep," she murmured with a weary sigh.

  He didn't want to hear that weariness, either. "Are you convinced I need to talk to them?" he found himself asking.

  She looked at him then. "You know how to attack when a person is vulnerable, don't you?"

  "I'm just doing my job. And trying to protect your nieces."

  "You're not going to take no for an answer, are you, Mr. Kane?"

  He looked into her eyes, now a muddy brown with fatigue and worry. "No, I'm not. Not when it's my job."

  "I'm not part of your job, Mr. Kane. And neither are Maggie and Casey," she snapped at him, her sudden anger making her eyes glow with a greenish light.

  He couldn't bring himself to look away. Her eyes were pools of emotion, drawing him in. It had been a long time since he'd allowed himself to feel anything, and for a moment the lure of her gaze was too potent to resist.

  Then he turned away, his will reasserting itself. Some things were better left alone. "Whether you want to be or not, both you and your nieces are involved in my case, Ms. Markham. Have you forgotten that someone broke into your home tonight?"

  "You have no way of knowing that had anything to do with Maggie and Casey." She waved her hand in the air. "It could just as easily be a kid, looking for something to steal."

  He looked at her somberly. "I hope, for your sake, that's all it is. But can you afford to take that kind of chance with those two girls?"

  Her face tightened, and for a split second he saw the fear. Then she managed to control it and force it back into hiding. "If it wasn't just an ordinary burglary, then going away tomorrow will take care of it. We'll take a vacation, just disappear. The girls will be safe once we're out of Las Vegas."

  It was false bravado, and he knew it. He pressed his advantage. "How long can you stay away? Sooner or later you'll have to come back to Las Vegas. And what if the men searching for your nieces find you before then?"

  "If you've done your job and caught the person who killed this Joey, then we'll have nothing to worry about, will we?" she said coolly.

  The glimmer of admiration he felt for her surprised him. He should be furious with her for not listening to him. Her stubbornness was only going to make his job more difficult, and would ultimately put her and her nieces in more danger.

  "It'll be easier for me to do my job if I get a little cooperation from you," he said, speaking in a low voice.

  "I'll tell you anything you want to know." She lifted her chin a fraction higher.

  Pushing away from the counter, he shoved his hands into his pockets and stared out the blackened-glass door that led outside. Something moved inside him at the way she stepped up to protect the two little girls, something he didn't want to feel. "I doubt very much there's anything you could tell me. But I think you should let your nieces talk to one of our psychologists."

  When she didn't answer immediately, he turned around to look at her. Abby had her arms clutched around her stomach again, as if trying
to ward off a blow. "Ms. Markham?" he said, alarmed.

  "They must be so scared," she whispered. "So confused. Would they think it was somehow their fault? How do you explain murder to a five-year-old child?"

  He didn't want to think about those two little girls, asleep upstairs. He'd avoided children for the past three years, tried to block out any memories, bad or good. If he thought about those children and their nightmares, the pain would be unendurable.

  He'd dreaded this moment for the past five days, dreaded the time he'd have to confront the girls and ask them what they'd seen, But it had been his fault that Joey got away. He should have checked the guards more carefully. Now Joey was dead, and it was his job to catch his killer. Even if it involved something as painful as connecting with, a child again.

  But right now the children were asleep, and they were safe.

  And so was he.

  So he focused on their aunt instead. "You don't know what, if anything, they saw. And until you do, you can't explain anything to them. Let them talk to a psychologist, Abby. At least know for sure if they're involved."

  She looked at him, and this time there was only uncertainty in her eyes. That, and a deep, abiding fear he didn't understand. "I don't know," she whispered. "I'm not sure what Janna would want. I'll have to think about it."

  "You do that. In the meantime are you going to go to a motel or are you going to stay here tonight?"

  She looked around her kitchen as if she were surveying a foreign land she'd never seen before. "I suppose it doesn't make any difference, since you refuse to leave," she said finally. Looking over at him, she managed a wan half smile. "To tell you the truth, I'm glad that I won't be alone. Even in a motel I probably wouldn't have been able to sleep."

  Deep purple smudges ringed her eyes, and her face suddenly looked pinched. He'd succeeded too well in scaring her. A faint twinge of guilt flickered across his conscience, and he immediately dismissed it. Solving this case was far too important to worry about bruising the sensibilities of a stubborn, illogical woman.

  In the morning she'd agree to let the kids talk to a psychologist, he'd arrange police protection for them while he went after the murderer and that would be the end of it. He wouldn't have to think about Abby Markham and her hazel eyes and fiercely protective heart again. And he wouldn't have to spend any more time around the two girls, children who were a constant reminder of his own loss.