LITMIR.BIZ

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he felt? Mandy was frozen at the newborn stage in his mind, but from time to time he wondered what little Mandy would be doing if she’d lived. Right now, she’d be a year and a half. She’d probably be toddling around and calling him Dada.

      His daughter had been the reason why he wanted to clean up this town. When he’d found out his wife was pregnant, he’d gotten this sudden protectiveness at the very idea of this little person. He wanted Haggerston to be the kind of place a kid could grow up safe and happy. His own upbringing had been neither. When he’d lost his daughter, his drive hadn’t changed. There were other kids growing up here—kids growing up just as poor as he had—and he wanted to make a difference for them, too.

      “So how old is your son?” he asked.

      “Eight.”

      He glanced over at her, frowning slightly. “Eight?”

      She nodded. “Yes. He’s in the third grade this year. And he’s a smart kid. He started reading really early. And he loves jokes—they drive me nuts...”

      “Jokes, huh?” he said absently.

      She’d said the boy was eight. She’d been gone nine years... The mental math wasn’t rocket science. Had she met someone right after him? That was a possibility. Sofia, with her almond skin and smooth, dark waves—she wouldn’t have trouble finding someone else. He’d never tried to deceive himself in that area. He hadn’t seen her in nine years, had a rocky history with her and had good reason not to trust her again, and he still found himself feeling things he didn’t want to feel when looking at her. Imagine some poor guy who didn’t have his defenses up—he’d never have a chance.

      “Kid jokes.” She shrugged. “He’s a regular little comedian. Like, what do you call a flying police officer?”

      Ben looked over at her mutely.

      “A heli-copper,” she concluded, giving him a wan smile.

      Ben cracked a grin and shook his head. “Okay. Cute.”

      They were coming up on her father’s street. It felt weird to be driving her back there, almost like the old days when he could feel her arms tightening around his middle as he took the turn around the corner. He could still remember the creak of his leather jacket as she held on tight, and the sound of her voice coming from behind, mingling with the growl of his motorcycle’s engine.

      Except they weren’t seventeen now, and she was a mom. That changed a lot of things in his head, somehow. Time had passed, and there was no pretending otherwise.

      “Thank you for this,” she said as he slowed to a stop in front of the familiar old house. Her cell phone rang again, and she picked up the call as she got out. “Dad? Look, I’m here. Is he still throwing up?”

      Ben got out, too. She hadn’t exactly said that she wanted privacy for this, and he found himself more than a little curious about her son. What was she like as a mother? So far, he could see the matter-of-fact side of her coming out, all concerned with vomiting and allergies. He’d probably be the same way if things had turned out differently. Lisa would have been the same way, too, although she’d never had the chance to even see her daughter—

      He pushed the unbidden thoughts back and picked up his pace. He caught up with her at the side door and stepped inside after her. It had been a while since he’d been in Steve McCray’s house. When Steve’s wife had left him, he’d been a wreck and spent way too much time in bars. Ben had personally escorted Mr. McCray home again several times, and he’d always been struck by how different the old house looked with the women gone. It had gone from a somewhat cluttered but homey little place to a dank and dismal hole seemingly overnight.

      The side door led into the kitchen, and when he glanced around he could already see Sofia’s touch around the place. A vase of daisies—Sofia’s favorite flowers—sat on the counter next to a stack of library books that looked to be a mixture of kids’ books and murder mysteries. She’d always liked a good who-done-it. The kitchen table had an assortment of boxed foods, all of which had “gluten-free” written in big letters on them in some prominent place. The box of cannolis sat open beside the gluten-free fare, like the forbidden tree in the garden.

      “Hi, Sofia—” Steve McCray stopped when he saw Ben. He nodded in Ben’s direction.

      Ben nodded his hello in return.

      “Where is he?” Sofia asked, putting her hands on her hips and looking up at her father. Her eyes flashed dangerously, and Steve looked smart enough to take the warning.

      “In the bathroom.”

      Sofia marched out of the kitchen without a backward glance, and Ben met Steve’s gaze with a wan smile.

      “So...” Steve said. “How’re things with you?”

      “Not bad.” Ben shrugged. “Hanging in there.”

      Steve regarded Ben in a tense silence, then gestured to the box on the table. “Cannoli?”

      “Don’t mind if I do.”

      Each man took a cannoli and bit into the sweet, creamy centers. They chewed silently, the sound of Sofia’s voice filtering through the walls while she talked with her son. She sounded gentle and sympathetic, although her words were too muffled to make out. A moment later, she came back into the room.

      “He’s done vomiting now,” she said. “For the next couple of days he’ll be still feeling pretty sick, though.”

      “Where is he?” Steve asked.

      “Changing his shirt.” She sighed, then glared at them in exasperation. “Are you two eating cannolis?”

      Ben licked his fingers and shot Steve a guilty look. He had a feeling the two of them were going to step wrong no matter what.

      “Just getting them out of the way so Jack doesn’t need to even see them,” Steve replied, and Sofia looked as if it was taking effort to bite her tongue. Coming with her into the house had been an obvious mistake.

      “So are you taking the day off, then?” Ben asked her, edging toward the door. “This looks like family business...”

      Sofia regarded Ben for a moment, then turned to her father.

      “Dad, are you okay to look after him while I’m at work?” she asked. “He won’t be much trouble feeling as badly as he does.”

      “Sure. We’ll hang out,” Steve replied. “I’m sorry about that. If I’d known what would happen—”

      “I told you about his allergies!” she retorted, then sucked in a breath. “Okay, apology accepted. Just follow my instructions for his food from now on.”

      “Scout’s honor.” Steve shot her a grin, and before Sofia could react, a boy came padding into the kitchen.

      “Mom?” He had a mop of dark hair and big brown eyes that looked an awful lot like his mother’s. He looked pretty tall for eight, but what did Ben know about these things? The boy paused when he saw Ben. “Hi,” he said shyly.

      “Hi,” Ben said.

      “Jack, this is one of my old friends, Ben,” she said. “I’ll be working with him for a little while.”

      “Oh.” Jack’s lips were on the pale side. He obviously wasn’t feeling great. “Do I have to go to school today?”

      “No, you can stay home,” she said. “I’ll call the school and tell them you’re sick.”

      “Okay.” Jack paused again. “I’ve got a new joke.”

      Sofia smiled and glanced toward Ben. “I told you he loves jokes, right? Okay, Jack. Let’s hear it.”

      “What do you call cheese that isn’t yours?” Jack asked, his gaze flickering toward Ben momentarily.

      “Pretty much all of it, with your allergies,” Sofia shot

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