Chapter 3

The younger of the two cops came back in while I was sitting on the couch waiting for Eva.

"Are you really Kit Carson?" he asked. All the rookies do that. The older guys put them up to it because they know it drives me nuts. They claim it's a mark of respect, because of my record and solve rate, but they don't call me that themselves. They just get the rookies to say it.

I sighed. "In the flesh. I'll come down to the station and fill out a report as soon as I'm finished here.

"I'm supposed to interview you," he said.

"You're supposed to interview witnesses, not the cop who made the bust," I corrected.

"You mean the woman?"

"I'll take care of that too," I said.

"Oh." He looked nervous and started shifting around on his feet. It was obvious he didn't know what to do now.

I helped him.

"This is where you say 'Have a nice night, sir, ' and then walk confidently out the door to take your perp down to the station and book him," I said.

"Oh ... right. Have a nice night, sir," he said. He turned and left.

I looked around and saw Eva peeking at me from where the rookie wouldn't have been able to see her. She stepped into the room.

"Kit Carson?"

I groaned. "You weren't supposed to hear that. You okay?"

She let her head fall to one side, roll forward and then back up, like she was stretching it.

"Actually, compared to last time he was here, I'm doing wonderful ... fantastic, even."

"I'm glad I was here," I said. "Unless I'm the one who brought him."

"How could you be responsible for that?" she asked.

"I don't know. I sat watching your place for an hour before you got back. Maybe he saw me and would have left you alone except for me coming to your door."

"I don't think so," she said. "After I got the restraining order he stalked me every chance he got. He made sure to stay far enough away that I couldn't do anything about it, but he wanted me to know he was watching. And taking things from us to sell is something he would do anyway, whether you were here or not. He's done it plenty of times before this."

"Then I'm glad I was here," I said again.

"Me too."

"But I am sorry that Timothy had to see all this," I said. "This was supposed to be a quick in and out, brighten his day - yours too, by the way - and be on my way kind of deal."

"It was very thoughtful," she said. "And it did brighten my day. But it's an awfully lot of money to spend on a stranger."

"I can't take all the credit," I said. "There's a group of us who kind of get together to do something like this every year around this time."

"It's still a lot to offer to a stranger," she said. "Though you do seem to know a lot more about us than the average stranger would. It was a little creepy when you knew his full name and all that. You're really a cop?"

"Guilty as charged," I said. "Thanks for not shooting me, by the way."

"Shooting you?" She frowned. "I don't understand."

"It's a police thing. Sometimes a woman gets upset when you're trying to arrest her man. Never mind."

"He's not my man," she said firmly. "He gave me a big tip one time and asked me out and I was stupid enough to go out on some dates with him. He decided he was my man, and it all went downhill from there."

"Oh," I said. "I thought he was Timothy's father."

"Now you're just being stupid," she said firmly. "I have better sense than to let a man like Wallace Gardner into my bed. That's one of the reasons he beat me up so many times. He said he would convince me that I loved him and wanted him between my legs if it killed me. I believed him, and that's when I got the restraining order."

"So where's Tim's father?" I asked. I'm a cop. I'm used to asking personal questions that people think are none of my business.

"Dead," she said. She looked away. "He had a defect in one of the blood vessels in his brain and he had an aneurism out of the blue one day. One minute he was making toast, and the next minute I was freaking out. Timothy was only four at the time."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Not as much as I am," she replied.

"I'll be honest," I said. "I've never lost anybody that close to me before. I've been around a lot of people who have, but I still can't imagine what they're going through."

"I'm glad you're honest. The people I can't take are the ones who claim they know how I feel."

I stood up. "This was supposed to be a merry Christmas. I wish there could be a do over."

"You did a nice thing," she said. "Go on home to your family. You can give them a merry Christmas."

"Haven't got one," I said.

"Why on Earth not?" She was pretty good at asking personal questions too, as it turned out.

"Law enforcement doesn't lend itself to having happy families. Too much time on the job, too much stress at home about whether you'll come home or not ... stuff like that."

"So you're divorced?"

"I never wanted to inflict that kind of life on a woman," I said. "I tell myself I'm a confirmed bachelor."

"I see," she said. "Maybe Timothy and I could have a merry Christmas after all."

I was always a sucker for a comment like that.

"Oh?"

"If you're telling the truth - if you have no family - then you have no one to spend Christmas Day with," she said. "We would be honored if you'd spend it with us."

"What if I have plans with friends, or other confirmed bachelors?" I suggested.

"Do you?"

"Well ... no, actually."

"Please come," she said.

I looked at her. I managed to keep my eyes on her face, and let me tell you that took some control. She was a nice looking woman, and right then I wanted to look at all of her. But I controlled the urge. I didn't know if this was a good idea. They frown on you dating victims and witnesses and all that. But it was only one day, and Christmas at that, so nobody would even know about it.

"Should I wear this?" I asked, plucking at the suit.

She laughed. "No, I'd like to meet the man behind the mask, if you don't mind."

"I already brought the presents," I said. "I'll have to come empty-handed."

"Your empty hands will be fine," she said. "See you around eight?"

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