Off the Grid (7 page)

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Authors: Karyn Good

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BOOK: Off the Grid
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Sophie’s gaze landed somewhere past his right shoulder. She lifted an absent hand to her face and traced a line from her ear to the corner of her mouth. Her swallow tracked a path down her lovely neck. “That’s not my story to tell.”

“Fair enough.” Did he even want to know?

“What about you? What matters to you?” Her gaze settled on him and didn’t waiver.

She was countering with a move of her own, looking ahead to putting him into check because she didn’t think much did. He wondered what she’d do if he mentioned her. Suggested she mattered more than was comfortable. More than was reasonable. How fast would he find himself out in the snow?

“Justice. Fairness. Liberty.” Chess was his game and he still had a few moves left. “We’re not so different, you and I.”

She laughed, clearly not convinced. “When did you realize you wanted to be a lawyer?”

“I was fourteen, entering grade eight, when my parents sent me away to boarding school.”

“The prestigious kind or the ball-busting kind.”

“Shawnigan.”

Her brows shot up. “Prep school. Nice.”

“Yes, well, sending me away to school was the most loving thing they could have done. They gave me the family they couldn’t be. There I finally found the structure I needed. It was about tradition, hard work, and expectation. It taught me the need for rules, the need to be a just and fair person.”

“So out of expected doctor, lawyer, entrepreneur you picked lawyer?”

“The noblest of noble professions.”

“And just when we were starting to get along.” She wrinkled her nose. Wrapped her hands around her mug of tea. “Let me guess, you met Jason Drummond there.”

She was closing in on his queen and he wasn’t quite sure how it had happened. “He was a couple of years ahead of me, but we hit it off. We were on the rowing team together.”

“And you’re friends. You trust him?”

Checkmate.

“Trust is a strong word.” He’d played a sloppy game. Then again his intention hadn’t been to win, but to observe how she played the game. Could he trust her? The answer surprised him so he answered. “His wife is a good friend. We get together for drinks, see each other at different functions. He’s continued on his family’s tradition as reputable builders…”

“But?”

He shook his head. “He’s driven. Competitive. He’s got his hand in so many pies I don’t know how he keeps track. Or when he sleeps.”

“Is it possible Marnie and Kellie are telling the truth? Not about paternity, but about the rest of it?” She didn’t quite meet his eye.

“Does Jason Drummond arrange to have sex with young girls barely legal enough to qualify as adults? Threaten them?” He didn’t want to believe it. Caleb had learned long ago wishing a person lived up to your expectations didn’t make it so. He kept further opinions about Jason to himself. “I think there’s more to the story. Something they’re not telling us.”

“Such as?”

“It’s our job to find out. All part of piecing the puzzle together.” She tried to hide a yawn and he was reminded of the hour. He got up and offered her his hand. “Time for bed.”

She fluttered her eye lashes with faked vigor. “But we’ve only had one date.”

He tugged on her hand until she was standing flush against him. “This counts.” He gestured to the table. “Food, drinks, and I want points for sharing.”

“Goodnight, Caleb.” Her sleepy smile tugged at his heart.

He lowered his head. “Sweet dreams, Sophie.”

She didn’t want to deal with his kiss. It was in her tired eyes. He gathered her in closer, ran a hand over her hair, and closed the gap. She sagged in complete fatigue. Her lips parted in protest, but he bypassed them to drop a kiss on her cheek. He pulled back a little and she followed his lead. She smoothed her hands over his shirt without making eye contact. He ran a hand over her hair before grabbing his jacket and heading for the door.

He paused just outside her open doorway. “Goodnight, Sophie.”

“Goodnight, Caleb.” Then she shut the door in his face.

He pulled up the collar of his coat and whistled a Christmas tune all the way to his vehicle. Life was about to get messy, which was fine by him. The night had given him a mission and Sophie as a partner. He glanced up at the now clear sky with it diffusion of stars and gave thanks for the best Christmas gift ever.

Chapter Three

Sophie assumed it was Caleb’s doing. This morning her car was parked on the street outside her apartment, towed from her clinic’s parking lot sometime in the night. Unless he moonlighted as a tow truck driver she had no idea how he’d pulled it off. She didn’t have access to his kind of pull. Or money. It left her even more in his debt. Which was unacceptable. How did you pay back a man who has everything and respect yourself in the morning?

How was she supposed to stop thinking about him when he pulled this kind of crap?

Not that she wasn’t grateful. She’d picked up Kellie and baby from the hospital late in the afternoon. She wanted Kellie here where she could keep an eye on her. Marnie too. She’d spent the morning borrowing a car seat, playpen, diapers, and some baby clothes. Thank God for friends. And she couldn’t have done it without her vehicle.

Once they were home, it was pointers on taking care of baby. Conversations about babies. Getting baby to sleep. To eat. Another long and exhausting day that also included cooking a meal fit for baby’s first Christmas Day. No pressure there. Three adults in residence and not one of them knew how to produce a meal that hadn’t come from a can, come prepackaged and frozen, or ordered by phone. The real miracle would be escaping food poisoning. Sophie longed for bed and some quiet time. Fed up didn’t even begin to describe it. Thanks to Marnie.

“I want Drummond to leave her alone,” demanded Marnie. She paced Sophie’s tiny kitchen, her frustration building. Sophie put a silencing finger to her lips. Kellie and baby were in the spare room down the short hall. Both sleeping last time she checked.

“Don’t shush me.”

Sophie shoved the plastic-wrapped plate of leftover dry roast chicken in the fridge. Outside her kitchen window a smattering of stars lit up the night sky as frost crept in from the four corners of the old style window. She petitioned the biggest and brightest for patience.

“Everything’s going to be fine.” Sophie was not in the mood for another rant. She shoved the salt and pepper shakers at her sister. “They go over there.”

Marnie yanked open a cupboard door. “You have no idea what he’s capable of.”

Didn’t she? She’d been served the list over breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Sophie grabbed a stack of plates and opened the dishwasher. The clatter of filling it drowned out the whine of her sister’s voice for five blessed minutes.

“There, almost done.” She tossed a dishcloth at Marnie. “Wipe down the table. I’ll make tea.”

Tea made everything better in Sophie’s opinion.

“I don’t want a cup of tea.” Marnie ignored the wet cloth in favor of picking at a thread escaping from the frayed hem of her hoodie. The one she refused to take off.

“No more caffeine.” She eyed the extra gigantic to-go cup by Marnie’s side. She’d slipped out while Sophie helped Kellie put Quinn to sleep. She didn’t want to think about what else she’d gone out for.

“Would you stop! You’re not my damn mother.”

“I’m just trying to help.” It was all she’d ever wanted, to help make life easier for her sister.

“No. You don’t. You want to take over my life. Change it until I don’t recognize it anymore.”

“I want you to be healthy. To take your meds. To realize I’m trying to help you.”

“Yeah? Fuck my meds. They don’t work anyway. They make me feel…funny, clumsy. I’m not letting your precious pills mess with my head.”

No, instead she’d mess with Sophie’s. “Then we can make an appointment to get them adjust—”

“No. I can look after myself. I’m the big sister, remember? Me.” She stabbed a finger into her scrawny chest.

“I remember.” But who could blame her if she forgot the fact Marnie was eight years her senior. “Nobody’s saying you can’t look after yourself.”

“Damn right you are. It’s a freaking constant buzz in my head.” Marnie flung out her hands and waved them around like the buzz was outside her head too. “Do this. See this doctor. Go here. It should be me helping you. I’m the oldest. It’s supposed to be my job to look after us.”

“Fine.” Sophie held up a conciliatory hand. “We’ll talk. Have a conversation. Tell me how you broke your wrist?”

“It’s nothing. I fell.” Marnie tugged at her sleeve, pulled it down over the tips of her fingers. Her eyes mapped a frantic search of the kitchen. A flip switched. She changed topic. “I don’t know how much longer we can stay here. He could find us. When he does there’ll be trouble.”

“How’s he going to find you? Jason Drummond has no idea where Kellie is, or that she’s even given birth.” Sophie slipped past her to fill the kettle with water. “Besides it’s Christmas Day. I’m sure he’s occupied spending time with family.”

“In his gated McMansion, with his eight hundred foot Christmas tree and mountain of presents.” She jabbed a finger in the direction of the back of the apartment. “What about his son? Shouldn’t he be concerned about him?”

Sophia reached into the cupboard for some tea bags. The whole story was too bizarre. Jason Drummond’s family was the closest thing the west coast had to royalty. They occupied the biggest houses in the choicest neighborhoods. He was movie star handsome. The black sheep, badass, or bad boy label had never applied. And she was supposed to believe he’d paid money to have sex with Kellie? Tossed her to the street for fathering his child?

“He’s a psychopath.”

“Marnie.” Sophie closed the cupboard door with a snap. She’d seesawed between the opposite demands all day but it had cranked up since she’d come back with Kellie. “We’ll make sure Kellie and Quinn are looked after.”

“He should have to pay.” Marnie accompanied each word with a rap of her finger on the countertop. “To provide for him.”

Too tired to care if she was making things worse, Sophie snapped. “Which one is it? Do you want him in her life or out of her life? You can’t have it both ways.”

The doorbell rang startling them both. Marnie snatched up the chef’s knife from the draining board on the counter. The transformation from whiny to aggressive shocked her. Fear leeched out of her sister and into Sophie.

“Put the knife down.” Aiming for calm, she tried to keep her voice level. Sophie motioned to the countertop, her heart pounding. “Right now.”

“No way.” Marnie slipped the knife behind her back and shook her head. “Not until I know who it is.”

The doorbell chimed again.

“Now,” Sophie insisted. Marnie didn’t move, didn’t relinquish the knife. “You’re scaring me. Is this was you want? For people to be afraid of you?”

Marnie said nothing. Did nothing, but focus her attention in direction of the front door.

Sophie inched toward the small side panel window. She caught sight of Caleb and sighed with relief. “It’s Caleb, no one to worry about. Put the knife down.”

She waited hand shaking over the knob until she complied. When she stepped back to open the door her heart was jackhammering against her breastbone.

“Hey.” He came through the door on a blast of cold air, arms full of bags. So solid, and heaven help her, sane. She hesitated a second, absorbing the notion of him. She needed capable and cool headed right now. He smiled, then a frown slipped in to replace it. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes. It’s all good.” Sophie swiped her hands over her yoga pants, before pushing up the sleeves of the bulky sweater she’d worn against the chill. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re sure you’re okay?” He handed her the packages, craned his neck to see around her into the quiet apartment. “I’m dropping off some stuff I was able to gather together. Thought you could use the extra supplies.”

“Just your typical Monroe Christmas around here.” She juggled the packages, stepping back to let him in the living room. When was the last time she’d checked in with a mirror? “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. The only places open are gas stations.” The heat in his smile calmed the anxiety in hers.

He had the whole gorgeous thing going on, casual and urban in dark jeans and a leather jacket. He shrugged out of his coat. He jammed it over one of the overflowing hooks and took back some of his packages. He smelled even better. A combination of power suits and the tropics, like sandalwood and citrus. She wanted to stay in the chilly tiny entryway and breathe him in.

She didn’t know what to think of the possessive hand he placed low on her back. Neither did Marnie. At the sight of them walking into the kitchen she crossed her arms and glowered.

Marnie jabbed a finger in Caleb’s direction, her eyes accusing Sophie. “What’s he doing here?”

“Marnie.” Sophie gritted her teeth and sent a warning glare in her direction. She also picked up the knife and stashed it in a drawer, making a mental note to lock them all away.

Marnie ignored her and scowled at Caleb. “Slumming?”

“Merry Christmas to you too.” He reached into a plastic bag and pulled out a carton of cigarettes, held them out. “Your brand I believe.”

Marnie’s eyes narrowed. She hesitated a moment before reaching out for them. Caleb set them in her hand but didn’t let go. “You care about Kellie. You want to protect her. I get it. It’s even admirable.” He cocked his head to continue their eye contact. “But I’m not the enemy. I’m not guilty by association any more than you are.”

“Meaning?” Marnie gave a little tug but he still didn’t let go of the cigarettes.

“I won’t make assumptions about you and your lifestyle if you agree to do the same for me.”

Never one to give an inch Marnie surprised her and offered up a slight nod. Caleb let go. He reached into another bag and pulled out a bottle of wine. This time his smile spelled his intentions out in a soft lift of his lips. As in later, over a glass, we’ll get to know each other much, much better. “For you.”

“Thank you.” She put the very expensive bottle of Bordeaux he obviously hadn’t purchased at a fuel stop to the side, wished she could pour a glass and disappear into her bedroom. Close the door, climb into bed with Caleb, and unwrap him from head to toe. Not her usual response to stress and it freaked her out. “Did your family let you off early?”

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