Chapter 13

thirteen

LIAM

While Paul spoke to airport security and the local police, I sat at a table in one of the airport offices, watching Amy draw pictures on a sheet of paper.

My mind kept drifting to Paul. Unlike any other case I'd been on, this attack felt personal. For the first time in my career, I had to remind myself not to get involved in Paul and Amy's life.

But the need to protect him, to ensure he and Amy were safe, went beyond duty—it was something deeper, something I wasn't ready to confront.

"When will Uncle Paul be here?" Amy asked.

"He won't be gone for much longer," I reassured her. "Tell me about your picture."

Amy studied her drawing. She pointed to a row of people with frowns. "These are the people who were standing outside the bathroom. They were really tall, and I couldn't see around them." Her bottom lip quivered.

"How did that make you feel?"

"Scared, but you found me. "

I knew I'd been lucky. Amy could have become lost in the crowd, especially after Paul yelled. People had run in all directions as they tried to get away from the man holding the gun.

I knew I shouldn't feel guilty for not being able to help Paul sooner, but common sense didn't take away the gut-wrenching fear of what could have happened.

Amy showed me another picture. "This is you and me." She picked up a crayon and drew another figure. "And this is Uncle Paul. Will he be okay?"

"He'll be fine. When the police have finished talking to him, he'll come back here."

"Did he tell you my mommy died?"

I nodded.

"I was only a baby. Uncle Paul is my daddy now."

My heart broke. Amy was about the same age as my daughter had been when she'd died. I could imagine Lacey telling me the same thing. She'd remind me, in the same matter-of-fact way, that you didn't have a choice about what happened in your life. All you could do was love the people around you.

Amy drew some more shapes on her paper. Her blonde hair fell forward, shielding her face from mine.

"You're lucky you have each other," I said softly.

"That's what Uncle Paul says. Do you have a mommy and daddy?"

"My mom died a long time ago."

Amy stopped drawing. Her blue eyes were as round as a full moon. "Is your daddy dead, too?"

"No. He's still alive."

Amy bit her bottom lip. "Do you see him lots?"

I shook my head.

"Why not? "

"We had an argument about something important. It's better if we don't spend too much time together."

"Maybe if your dad came to see us, he wouldn't mind spending time with you."

"It's not that simple." But some days, I wished it was.

Amy picked up a red crayon. "You look sad. I'll draw you a flower to make you feel better."

After six years of holding onto the grief that had torn my world apart, I didn't think a picture would help. But by the time Amy added the last petal to her flower, some of the dark places inside my soul had disappeared.

The office door opened.

Amy dropped her crayon. "Uncle Paul!" She ran straight into his arms. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too, pumpkin." He hugged Amy tight.

My eyes narrowed. By the end of the day, Paul would have at least one black eye. And his split lip and red, swollen skin across the left-hand side of his face must be sore.

His gaze caught mine. "It's not as bad as it looks."

I raised my eyebrows and was surprised to see Paul's mouth tilt at the corners.

He grimaced. "Don't make me smile. It hurts too much."

Amy led Paul across to the table. "Liam has been helping me draw pictures. Do you want to see them?"

"I'd like that." He carefully sat in one of the chairs and admired the first picture. "It's beautiful, Amy."

"It's a flower. For Liam."

I held my breath, hoping Amy didn't tell Paul why she'd drawn it.

"And this is a picture of the people who were standing outside the bathroom. They were scary. "

Paul wrapped his arm around Amy's narrow shoulders. "Did you feel better once you found Liam?"

"I didn't need to find him. He found me."

Paul turned toward me. Tears filled his eyes. "I don't know how I can ever repay you for what you've done. But if you ever need a cake for yourself or a friend, let me know."

"I was only doing my job." I didn't know who I was trying to fool. When Paul yelled for help, I'd reacted as if he was part of my family.

"You did more than your job," Paul said. "You made sure we were safe, then you stayed to look after Amy. Thank you."

My heart clenched tight. Reminding myself that I was here to do a job was only half my problem. I was attracted to Paul and nothing I said or did would change that. "Do you need to see a doctor?"

"I've already been examined. The doctor doesn't think my nose is broken, but he wants me to have an X-ray once the swelling goes down."

"We can drive to Boulder for that. Do the police need you for anything else?"

"No, but they want to talk to you before we leave."

"I'll see them now. Are you still happy to fly to Colorado today?"

Paul tightened his hold on Amy. "I'd leave right now if I could."

I checked my watch. "Our luggage has been offloaded from the original flight so, if we're lucky, you won't have long to wait. I'll be back soon."

And before I became even more involved in Paul's life, I left the room. The sooner this assignment was over, the sooner I could go back to Boulder. I was becoming too emotionally involved in their lives. And, for a man who was used to being alone, that was a dangerous place to be.