CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Ooh. Billboard was pissed.

He’d been pissed for two days, ever since she’d kicked ass, uh, chest, in that van.

O’Shea got it. Sort of. Billboard was the big bad protector guy, and she was a simple beat cop. But he had to know, from hanging around Brigid, that Louisiana’s female cops knew how to take care of themselves.

The cause for his bad mood today, however, wasn’t O’Shea. At least not overtly. The reason for Billboard’s frustrations were Lakisha and Rainie. They were not taking the lessons the guys were trying to impart, seriously.

O’Shea would have thought the girls would want to absorb everything offered, considering that before they’d been adopted into Prez and Maygan’s household, they’d had less than stellar lives. They’d even—before the SOS team had come to the rescue—been snatched by assholes from a terrorist cell who wanted to make them into human bombs.

And if their past wasn’t enough to motivate them, Lakisha should have been avidly paying attention to everything Billboard, Prez, and Sarge were trying to show her, because her best friend had just been kidnapped. Duh .

But the pair of teens were being…teens; much more interested in taking selfies in various spots around the Blue Hills, than in paying attention.

On the other hand, Ethan, and Mizzay’s niece Rory, were taking to their lessons like horses to feedbags. They were devouring everything the men showed them, before champing at the bit for more.

O’Shea, too, was absorbing all the tips the experts had to impart. She’d never been any good at tracking, but after two hours of traipsing around in the woods with them, she had a much better idea of what to look for. Foot prints were the easiest tell, followed by broken twigs. But less apparent were bits of grass bent over, scratches or abrasions on tree trunks, and human leftovers like cigarette butts or gum wrappers.

Sarge was very pleased with her progress, as well as with Ethan and Rory’s, and although his patience wasn’t as thin as Billboard’s, he was beginning to look frustrated with the two older girls. The only one staying out of the potential showdown was Prez, because, yeah, they were his kids, and the last thing he needed was an ongoing battle in his house if the two copped an attitude.

Billboard wasn’t taking that into consideration.

“That’s it,” the big man finally exclaimed. He approached the pair and held out his hand. “Cell phones. Now,” he ordered.

Lakisha looked shocked, and blinked wide eyes up at him. “Why?”

To give the teens their due, they didn’t argue, but reluctantly placed their devices into Billboards’ large, demanding palm.

“Why?” Billboard repeated after pocketing the phones.

O’Shea was fairly sure his voice had cracked with exasperation.

“Yeah,” Rainee dared.

“Because you’re not paying attention,” he growled. “You haven’t even had the good graces to pretend that what we’re showing you is important.”

“We’ve been watching,” Rainie argued. “We have.” Her lower lip jut out in a pout.

“Fine. Prove it.”

Oh, shit. Billboard was about to put them to the test.

“Uh, okay?” Lakisha looked less than certain with the edict.

Billboard turned to the two younger kids.

“Ethan, you and Rory go hide. Use every technique we’ve shown you today to obscure your path. You’ll have five minutes, then I’m sending these two after you.”

Ethan’s smile couldn’t have been any bigger as he turned to a shocked-looking Lakisha and Rainee. “Good luck, suckas,” he taunted smartly.

The boy had really come out of his shell with the one-on-one tutelage he’d been receiving. O’Shea grinned. Ethan had bonded with Rory, as well.

“Come on, Rors.” He reached for the girl’s hand and the two quickly sped off into the woods.

“Hey,” Billboard barked at the two older girls. “Turn around.”

“Why?” Lakisha sulked, craning her head to look past him as the young pair disappeared.

“Because it’s cheating, watching what direction Ethan and Rory took,” Sarge supplied, a little more evenly than how O’Shea figured Billboard would have answered.

The girls reluctantly turned, but…

“Papa-Prez,” Rainie whined. “Do we really have to do this? Haven’t we been out here like, all day already?”

“It’s only been two hours,” Prez answered stoically, not looking particularly pleased.

Drama much ? O’Shea rolled her eyes but held her tongue. Yup. They’d started this little exercise at eight, and it was now only ten in the morning.

Prez continued, a wheedle in his tone. “Listen you two. Behave, and I promise I’ll get you hot dogs and fries for lunch.”

Lakisha’s ears perked up. “And ice cream for dessert?”

O’Shea couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. Big, bad Prez was being manipulated by his daughters and…giving in? If O’Shea, at their age, had done anything close to what the pair were pulling, her parents would have shipped her off to her grandmother’s in a heartbeat.

O’Shea grimaced. That was not a memory she wanted to dredge up on such a fine, summer day. Still, she’d heard enough, and felt an intervention was necessary.

“Uh, you guys?” O’Shea stepped in. “Food comes after you find Ethan and Rory, and after we’ve put you through your paces with some self-defense lessons at Wiley’s,” she asserted.

Wiley had recently erected a barn on his property a few towns south of the Blue Hills. He owned the place with his wife, Solina, who ran an antique store in another building on site; a spot up the long driveway from where they also maintained their lovely little home.

O’Shea had visited the previous day while the team was working, hitching a ride with Brigid who’d had the day off. They’d had a wonderful time, and Solina had cooked them the most amazing Indian food for lunch. She’d loved Solina, and had marveled over every eclectic collection that the woman displayed, but after those tours were over, she’d ogled the enormous barn. It was at least twice as big as the house, and equipped to the rafters with all things horsey, and all things fitness.

Out of necessity, of course.

Half the structure housed Wiley’s three horses, while the other half he’d made into a state-of-the-art gym. Whenever the team needed to work out, they headed to Wiley’s and hit the mats, hard.

“ After ?” Lakisha whined dramatically, bringing O’Shea’s attention back to the scenario she’d painted. “That will be at least one o’clock.”

“Probably,” O’Shea responded without an ounce of sympathy. “But it’ll be sooner if you find Ethan and Rory quickly.”

The pair looked at each other and their faces became determined.

Right, O’Shea scoffed. Note to self: Teenagers are easily manipulated by food.

Billboard hadn’t joined in the conversation one way or another, but continued to stare stoically at his watch. “Thirty seconds,” he finally stated, his face showing no emotion.

What was his problem, anyway?

O’Shea had known Billboard was normally a non-communicative neanderthal, but for the past few days he was taking taciturn to a whole new level.

“Three, two, one, go,” he instructed the girls.

The teens headed off in the direction Ethan and Rory had taken, barely paying attention to the ground or the vegetation around them.

“This is going to take a long time,” Sarge sighed.

“It sure is,” Prez agreed.

Good. That would be long enough for O’Shea to take Billboard aside and ask him what was lodged up his ass. It was one thing, giving her the cold shoulder for two days. It was another, taking his bad mood out on his friends.

“Billboard. Can I talk to you privately for a moment, please?” O’Shea asked sweetly. She dared steal a glance at Prez, who winked. Yeah. The guys were aware that Billboard was grumpier than normal.

“Can it wait?” Billboard mumbled; his lips turned down.

“Sure. If you want to continue to alienate your friends by being a prick,” she came back immediately, her voice still dripping honey.

Billboard looked at her with his dark eyes flashing. Did he really want to rip off her head?

Shit. What the fuck was stuck in his craw?

Still, she wasn’t about to step back.

“Fine,” he eventually grunted, and stalked off in the opposite direction from the one the girls had taken. Ten feet into the woods, he stopped, but O’Shea felt a little more distance might be prudent. If things got heated, she didn’t want the guys to hear it. She took his arm and dragged his reluctant ass another twenty feet or so, finally stopping at a rocky outcropping where she let him go, and took a seat.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” She didn’t beat around the bush. It wasn’t her style.

“Nothing,” Billboard replied.

“Wrong answer,” O’Shea huffed. “Listen. If you have a problem with me—which clearly you’ve had since the minute I helped take down those kidnapping dudes—just say so and I’ll make things easy on both of us. I’ll move out.”

Not that it would be a simple task now that she owned not one, but two cats.

Yeah. Her soft heart hadn’t been able to surrender the tiny orange kitten from the van to the Animal Rescue League. Picturing that sweet little face in a cage… O’Shea shivered. No. She just couldn’t do it, and nobody else had stepped up to help the poor abandoned thing, so…

She was now the proud mom of both Zoe and Cheeto.

Billboard, already in the grips of some kind of anger at that point, hadn’t said no when O’Shea had asked if she could keep Cheeto. He’d merely shrugged and walked away.

She’d taken that as a yes.

Luckily, once they’d gotten home, Zoe had taken to the kitten right away. She’d adopted him as her own; grooming the small boy, cuffing him when he needed correcting, and best of all, after they’d both settled down, they’d slept in a cute little pile all night.

“Maybe you should move,” Billboard finally threw out, answering her question. “It’d probably be easier for both of us.”

O’Shea barely held in her rage. “You mean it will be easier for you ,” she countered.

He gave that ubiquitous shrug that was beginning to fill in for those times when he didn’t want to talk.

“Fine, then,” she snapped. “Will you at least keep the cats until I can find a place that will accept them?” She’d start searching apartments for rent as soon as they got back to his house.

Billboard blinked at her. “I, uh…”

With his hot and cold indecision, O’Shea was having trouble holding her tongue. Billboard was making this extremely difficult. Especially since she was trying to maintain her aplomb, outwardly managing her sorrow while her dreams of being with the big lug were dashed.

“Never mind. I get it,” she spat out. “Sever all ties.”

“No. That’s not what I—”

A noise in the rocks behind them had them both clamming up immediately and turning.

“Ethan?” Billboard called out. “Is that you?”

A small head popped up, then another. “Uh, huh.”

Neither Ethan nor Rory looked happy.

“Umm, nice job, circling around so the girls wouldn’t find you.” Billboard praised. “I take it you used all the hints we gave you to obscure your trail.”

“We did,” Rory supplied in a small voice, but her tone held belligerence, too. “ And we did a good job because you didn’t know we were here, either. Which means we heard you being mean to Miss O’Shea.” Her small chin went up and she glared at Billboard.

“I wasn’t being—”

“Yes. You were,” the small dervish countered, not letting him finish.

“Uh, Miss O’Shea?” Ethen chimed in with a little cough. Clearly, he was a fixer. “We, uh, me and my mother have an extra room, and we both love cats. I bet she’d be up for having you stay with us.”

Now here was an unexpected twist, and one that—if it worked out—suited O’Shea just fine.

“You know what Ethan? I might just ask her what she thinks when we drop you off later. Maybe she won’t mind some help with expenses.” They’d learned, through Ethan’s motor-mouth during the ride to the Blue Hills, that his mother worked two jobs: one as a receptionist at a dentist office, and the other as a bartender at a local restaurant.

Billboard spoke up. “Slow down, O’Shea. Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?” he rebutted. “It’s not exactly necess—”

O’Shea cut Billboard off, giving him a disparaging eyeball. “How about you and I talk this over, later,” she suggested, putting sugar back into her voice for the kids.

Who the hell was Billboard to make decisions for her? He’d already stomped on her heart after she’d laid it on the line. Wasn’t that enough? She disguised her hurt while giving him crap. “Just one more thing, Billboard,” she added, and this time he nodded. “Stop being a grump to your friends. I realize you have a problem with me, but there’s no reason for it to slop over into the rest of your life. Things will go back to normal for you as soon as I’m gone.”

The sour look she received from him, along with his nod, didn’t make her feel all warm and fuzzy, but hopefully, despite whatever ill-will he still had for her, the man would start acting a little more human around everyone else.

“Should we come out now, or should we stay hidden?” Rory piped up, clearly sensing that the adults were finished.

Billboard managed a chuckle, for which O’Shea gave him points. “No. I think it’s time to call it. The girls are probably still headed in completely the wrong direction. Let’s go join Prez and Sarge until Lakisha and Rainee admit defeat.”

“We win, then,” Ethan cried happily, scrambling to his feet, but before he could start over the rocks, he sent a hand to Rory so she could easily make the climb, too.

Sweet.

Ethan’s mother had obviously taught him some lovely manners. O’Shea wished Billboard’s mother would have knocked some politeness into him, but she feared his troubles stemmed from something that had happened to him long after childhood, coming from a place that was a lot deeper and darker than anything Ethan had ever harbored.

O’Shea scolded herself. She shouldn’t be worrying about Billboard. He’d shut her down. He wasn’t her problem any longer.

****

The rest of the day went well for everyone except O’Shea, who couldn’t shake off her melancholy that she and Billboard hadn’t been able to share enough between them to overcome whatever wall he’d erected between them; to move on to form a deeper relationship. O’Shea hated losing, and it felt like she’d not only lost the love of her life, but someone who could have been a best friend.

At Wiley’s barn, Lakisha and Rainie, after the humiliation of not being able to find Ethan and Rory, buckled down and had proven themselves on the mats. It was clear that Prez had been teaching them self-defense. They’d not only acquitted themselves well, but helped in the coaching of the two younger kids.

Billboard, for his part, had made an effort to be more engaging, not only with his friends and the kids, but even with her.

Why the about face? Was he rethinking his previous attitude, or was he simply relieved that she’d agreed to move out? Whichever it was, O’Shea wasn’t about to be gulled into thinking his change of attitude was anything but self-serving, and she responded to his amended approach politely, but without an ounce of her normal warmth.

Screw him if he didn’t like being iced out. She was busy nursing a heart that hadn’t even been given a proper chance to be broken.

Eventually they thanked Wiley for the use of his gym. Sarge had taken off with Rory to return her to Mizzay. Prez had collared both the teens with promises of the long-awaited hotdogs and fries; having no problem getting them into his truck.

O’Shea and Billboard were left with Ethan, who they drove back to his house in a silence that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. It was just…there.

Ethan grew excited however, as they pulled into his driveway. “Miss O’Shea? Are you going to come in so we can ask Mom about you moving to our house?” he asked, bouncing in his seat.

O’Shea glanced at Billboard, who said nothing, but whose jaw was clenched.

“I think that sounds like a great idea,” she told Ethan, then turned to Billboard. “I’ll only be a minute. Just to see if Mrs. Jakes is at all amenable to the idea.”

Billboard grunted.

Yup . That’s all O’Shea expected.

She and Ethan left the car, with Ethan running ahead of her to burst in through the door.

“Mom! Mom! Can Miss O’Shea be our new roommate? Please? She has two cats, and one of them is a kitten, and you’ve always said we could get a pet someday.”

“Whoa. Whoa. Slow down,” Mrs. Jakes’ amused voice came from the kitchen where Ethan had disappeared. “What’s this all about?”

O’Shea entered the room and took over, hoping to moderate some of Ethan’s enthusiasm. After all, she’d only met the woman once when they’d picked Ethan up. She might think this request was crazy, coming so quickly.

“Uh, if I may?”

Mrs. Jakes nodded agreeably.

“Ethan overheard me today that I’m looking for a place to live with my two cats. I’m not at all trying to put you on the spot. It was something that just came up, and I haven’t even had a chance to peruse apartment ads yet.”

“Nuh, uh,” Ethan disputed. “We heard. Billboard told her she had to move out, Mom. And he didn’t sound very happy when he said it,” Ethan added, snagging an apple out of the bowl on the counter and taking a big bite.

“Seriously?” Mrs. Jakes bristled.

O’Shea could tell that the woman had her back up, and it was funny. O’Shea had noted that she and Mrs. Jakes had some physical similarities; short dark hair, and equal statures, but she was amused that their personalities meshed, as well.

O’Shea tried for some damage control. “It, uh, wasn’t exactly like that,” she demurred. “I kind of crashed his place unexpectedly. When a cat I rescued couldn’t stay in the room I’d rented at a hotel, Billboard came to get me, and basically had no choice but to take me in,” O’Shea explained. “But now that I’ve got cat number two, which is a story in itself, we’ve decided that it will be better for me to find a place of my own.”

“I see.” Mrs. Jakes relaxed. “I’m glad he’s not forcing you out. I’ve had…” She looked at her son and trailed off.

What had she been about to say? Clearly things weren’t exactly as they seemed with Ethan and his Mom. If O’Shea moved in, she promised herself she’d get to the bottom of the odd situation.

Mrs. Jakes cleared her throat. “I’ve actually been thinking about taking in a roommate,” she admitted. “I’ve simply been putting it off because I wasn’t sure about letting a stranger into my home.” She brightened. “But you’re not a stranger. You’re a friend of the SOS team, and I trust them implicitly.”

True, but… There was a caveat that needed to be mentioned.

“I understand you don’t trust cops,” O’Shea dropped. Mrs. Jakes had no idea that O’Shea wore a badge.

“Uh, not exactly,” the woman prevaricated uncomfortably.

O’Shea sighed. “Then I feel I have to disclose that I am an officer of the law employed by a rural police force in Louisianna. So, if that’s a deal breaker…”

Mrs. Jakes chewed on her bottom lip while looking O’Shea up and down. “I don’t think…” She dragged in a deep breath. “You’re not from around here, and you’re a woman.” She clearly made up her mind. “I’m comfortable with that.”

“Okay,” O’Shea allowed, “but I’m not rushing you. If you change your mind, I won’t be upset.” O’Shea gave her a gentle smile. “Do you have any idea how much you might want if things work out?”

Mrs. Jakes named a figure that sounded extremely fair, and O’Shea knew her savings could take that hit for a few months once she gave her notice and closed up her at-will apartment back home. If she hadn’t heard back from the Boston Commissioner’s office by the time her bank account was running low, she’d have to look for a job—not at SOS anymore—but it was all doable.

O’Shea felt a punch of optimism. “Let me talk to Billboard and get his thoughts on the matter, Mrs. Jakes.”

Was O’Shea hoping for a hail-Mary? Was she hoping that Billboard would have a sudden change of heart?

Screw that .

“You know what? I’ll actually get back to you tomorrow, and between us we’ll discuss whether it will work.”

Without hesitation, they both picked up their cell phones and shared numbers.

“That’s great,” Mrs. Jakes smiled widely, clearly warming up to the idea. “And please, call me Anna.” Her head tilted. “That’s funny. I’ve only heard you called O’Shea,” she puzzled. “What should I call you?”

“O’Shea is fine,” she assured Anna. “Just O’Shea.”