Flee From Evil (13 page)

“Here. Let me show you.” Lew pried the nails out with a hammer to undo Vince’s mess. “Use this board to line the other ones and make them parallel.” He gave Vince the nail.

Vince placed it and hit it with the hammer.

“Watch your hands, Pastor,” a voice called from the roof. “You don’t want to get ‘em broke.”

Vince smirked at the guy knowing he was referring to one of the many trips to the emergency room he’d had since he became part of the home improvement team. “Ha ha, Jorge. Don’t fall from that roof, now.”

The guy stood, teetered with a grin, “Whoa, whoa—” until Adam Grant pulled him down, both men chuckling.

Lew’s lips tilted. “Well, at least ya try, Lilly-White. I’ll give ya that.” Lew showed him how to line the panels some more with a patience Billy never gave him. But then again, Billy was all about getting the job done on time.

On occasion, Vince would peek at the teens now planting petunias, Tibo driving a toy truck through the grass beside them.

“Pretty girl, that one.” Lew nodded toward Sophie. “Daughter of that woman you were staring at the other night, isn’t she?”

Vince met Lew’s all-too-knowing gaze. He didn’t figure Lew would appreciate a lie. “Yes.”

“I think she’s got it bad for the boy.”

Vince grunted. He glanced over to see Sky playfully tugging the hem of Sophie’s form-fitting T-shirt. His eyes lowered as his smile slid up.

Something burned inside Vince.

“Hey, Lilly-White, relax. They’re kids having fun.”

Vince knew all about that kind of fun. It didn’t make him feel any better. The Sky dude inserted a finger into her belt loop, pulled her closer and whispered in her ear. She giggled as Sky’s gaze met Vince’s heated stare. Sky let go as if touching hot coals.

“Hey, Vince.” Billy’s calloused palm waved in front of his face. “I’d like to be finished by the end of the day.”

Vince snapped to. “Yeah, sure, right.” He stood and picked up a few fence pickets over by the gardeners.

Sky gave him a sideways glance. “So how’s the fence going there?” His gaze landed back in the dirt.

“It’s doin’ fine, Sky.” Vince swung the hammer back and forth. “You see,” he watched the hammer sway, waiting for Sky to turn his way again, “the trick is …”

Sky looked up at the pause in Vince’s words.

“You gotta make sure your hands don’t go where they’re not supposed to,” Vince pointed his eyes to Sophie then back again, “otherwise, your fingers might get broke.”

Sky’s eyebrows shot up just before he scooted some distance from the girl, and resumed his work.

Vince grinned as he turned. At least he’d accomplished
something
today. He twirled the hammer in the air and—
Ouch!—
dropped it on his toe. Lew shook his head and snickered as Vince picked it from the grass.

~*~

Sophie inspected her nails as Sky revved his car into life. He’d become a little distant after chatting with Pastor Vince. Having faded out when it turned to building stuff, she hadn’t heard what they talked about. All she cared about was making the garden beautiful so the family could smile at the lush colors surrounding them.

“How ‘bout we go for ice cream cones?” Sky turned his upper body toward her as if to stress the idea.

Oh, ice cream sounded awesome after a long, sweaty day in the sun. “Sure.” Good thing Mom had picked Tibo up for a therapy appointment. Sophie wouldn’t have felt right getting an ice cream since he couldn’t eat any, and she doubted The Ice Cream Stop had non-dairy desserts.

Sky shifted and drove the few blocks to the place. He ordered chocolate on a waffle cone. She ordered mint chip—with extra sprinkles—on a sugar cone. They sat in the car facing each other as they consumed the creamy confection.

Sophie couldn’t help but notice the way his tongue traveled the edge of the cone, and his full lips bit into the top. His warm brown eyes lifted to catch hers. A smile grew on his face.

Feeling her cheeks heat, she dropped her attention to her hollowed out cone, and crunched into it. “You’re staring at me.”

His chuckle sent chills through her arms. “Just returning the favor.”

She giggled while finishing the last of her cone. The napkin stuck to her hands when she tried to wipe off the ice cream, so she reached into her purse to find a Wet-one.

“Got one of those for me.” Sky plucked bits of napkin off his fingers where they stuck.

“Sure. Give me your hand.” Sophie grabbed his left one.

He yanked it back, but she resisted. “Come on, let me clean you up.” She smirked at what seemed like a little boy reluctant for a bath then noticed his expression had grown dark.

He tugged harder, bringing attention to his palm, marred on every inch with circular scars. Were those cigarette burns?

Gasping, she released him.

He tucked the hand between his knees.

“What happened, Sky?”

“What?” He stared at his legs.

“You know what I mean. Those scars.” She was too upset not to yell.

His gaze was glued to his jeans.

“Sky. What was that?”

“I already told you.” He barely moved his jaw to form the words.

“Did your mom do that?” How could someone torture their own child?

His nod was so short she barely saw it. “It’s how she punished me when I was bad.”

Sophie closed her eyes. Her heart ached for the little boy he used to be. She took his hand in hers, and pressed it between her own. She wanted him to know he was loved … by Jesus, so she placed the injured palm to her cheek, the harshness against her skin.

His brown eyes lifted to hers searching, longing, receiving what she wanted to give. His other palm closed in on her face.

She shivered.

He pulled her to him. Their lips touched.

Her first kiss. It felt so right, she melted into it.

Something washed over Sophie drawing her closer, deeper into all of who Sky was. The connection intense, like nothing she’d ever known. Was this love?

His hands moved to her hips then slipped into the back of her T-shirt, pulling her into him.

She shivered again. Was this going too far? She didn’t know. All she knew was that it felt real good.

A knock fell on the window. “What do you guys recommend?” Pastor Vince’s expression was anything but jovial. “Cherry cheesecake flavored ice cream or Rocky Road?”

Sky’s jaw grew ridged.

Sophie peeked out the window. How much had the pastor seen? She resisted the urge to palm her flaming cheeks. “I’d, um …” she cleared the crud from her throat. “I’d get the Rocky Road.”

Sky cranked the ignition and revved the engine loud enough Sophie could barely hear the pastor’s response. He waved, and entered The Ice Cream Stop as the car jerked into reverse and rolled out of the parking lot.

Chapter Twelve

“You gonna help us out here or what, Perkins?”

Kevin eyed the guy on the ladder, banging a long nail through the gutter. “I need to prep the inside for painting.”

The guy scoffed.

“Hey, I got you this job, didn’t I?” Kevin strode in through the front door before he could hear any more of the dude’s ungrateful remarks. The jerk would be unemployed if it weren’t for him.

“How’s it going?” Cassandra stepped out of the kitchen.

“Great.” He scanned her blouse and slacks. “You look like you need to get somewhere.”

She checked her watch. “I have a meeting with some church leaders in McLean Virginia about their special needs program.”

“Why don’t you go ahead? I’ve got everything covered here.” He forced his friendliest, most trustworthy smile.

“That’s okay. My mom should be back with the kids any minute. I’d rather stick around in case you have questions or need something.”

Questions. She just didn’t trust him. “I think we’re good.” He gestured to the extra room. “I’m gonna prep the inside to paint.”

Cassandra nodded before grabbing a mug and pouring coffee. She sat at the kitchen table, plugged earbuds into her ears, and flipped through her pages of notes.

Now was as good a time as any. The woman lurked over him whenever he was inside the house. At least with the music drowning out sound, he might be able to take a real look around.

Cassandra always seemed protective of her closet. He’d see what he could find there—valuables, bank statements, credit cards—anything that could lead him to her fortune, or be traded for one of its own.

Kevin took one last look at the lady tapping her toe to the beat buzzing from her MP3 player and slipped into the bedroom. Boxes lined the shelves of the walk-in. Plastic drawers were stacked along the floor. He pulled out one after the other, sifted through pages and shook containers, and what did he find? Lots of junk. Pictures, kids’ drawings, funky hats, old shoes and a bunch of tangled jewelry. He fisted that and stuffed it in his pockets just in case.

One last set of drawers. He pulled. Jackpot! Financial records. All he needed were a few account numbers and one of his buddies could help him siphon them. He flipped through to find a credit card statement. It only had a five hundred dollar credit limit. No point wasting his time on that. Pushing it aside, he searched for the larger one, or maybe a –Whoa! Here it was.

Kevin’s fingers shook as he took in the address of a prominent bank in Philadelphia. He pulled it from the file and scanned the page. Hundreds of thousands of dollars had been moved in and out of the account in this one month—like she’d sold something big, then used the cash for something else. What would it be like to maneuver that kind of dough on a daily basis?

He folded the statement and shoved it in his back pocket, almost giddy at the thought of draining the account somehow. He knew just the guy who could help him.

There was more here. Kevin could feel it. The in-laws—those kids’ grandparents—carried a net-worth in the billions. Surely, there was some way to access their wealth as well. But how? Suddenly hundreds-of-thousands sounded like a pittance. The thought of handling millions of dollars made his pulse pound. They’d barely blink at the loss, and Kevin could leave the country and go back to that little town in Mexico he really liked. He’d live like a king there.

What was that sound? Someone was coming. Kevin closed boxes, shut drawers, stuffed the necklaces deeper into his pockets, and felt to make sure the bank statement didn’t stick out.

“What are you doing in here?” Cassandra’s head tilted. The earbuds hung from a button, no music pumping out.

He gestured at the dimensions of the space. “I was thinking we should probably make the closet in the addition the same size as the existing rooms. A greater uniformity would add to its resale value.” Like he really cared what they sold the place for ten years from now.

His breath halted as he waited for her response. Did she believe him? Green eyes stared straight through him.

Her blink was patronizing. “We already discussed that. I’d rather not add to the expense, and I don’t appreciate you continually trying to up-sell this job.”

Kevin held up his palms. “That’s okay, Mrs. Whitaker. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

The steam expelling from her nostrils seemed to cool as the opening of the front door sounded and that little retarded kid darted in and swallowed her in an embrace. She rubbed his back, her features melting into a smile. “Did you have fun, Tibo?”

He peeked up. “Fun.”

Her smile grew. She really seemed to love that kid. Even though he was a half-wit. Kevin bet his rich grandparents loved him that much too. The big question was, could that love be measured in dollars and cents?

~*~

Sophie blinked, trying to clear the sleepies out of her eyes as she shuffled through the hallway toward the kitchen. Still exhausted after Grandma dragged her and Tibo around Annapolis yesterday morning, she’d take advantage of the extra hours of rest this summer while she could.

Her next blink came with a knock at the door.

Running a hand through her unruly hair, she twisted the knob to open it, hardly remembering she was still in her pajamas and pink fuzzy slippers. Who’d bang so loud this early in the morning? Okay, maybe ten a.m. wasn’t
that
early.

“Sky!” She shut the door in his face.

Mom walked in straightening her business suit. “Who was that?”

“I just slammed the door on Sky.” Now, she was mortified.

“Sophie.” Mom gave her the are-you-crazy look.

“Can you get it?” She ran into her room. “I need to get dressed.”

“Were we expecting him?”

“No!” she called, voice shaking.

Sophie pulled out drawer after drawer. Where was that new top that clung to her shape … and the cute jean shorts with the designs on the pockets? She threw a few items on the floor in the search.

There. She sighed as she pulled off the pajamas, flipped the slippers from her feet, and dressed in record time. Dragging a brush through her long, black hair she checked her reflection. It was the best she could do on such short notice. What was Sky doing here, anyway?