In Harm’s Way - Ch. 37

Excerpt from rough draft of In Harm’sWay by Pat Otterness

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

????????????“Where did you go?” Hope asked me. “You abandoned me with all these kids.” The kids were swarming around the room, looking for entertainment.

????????????“Harm was here with you,” I countered. “I knew Harm would help.” I did know that. Hiram was always helpful. I often took advantage of his good nature. I felt a niggle of embarrassment. “Where did you go?”

????????????“We looked for a park, but we couldn’t find one, so we went to McDonald’s.”?Was Hope blushing?

“See anyone you knew there?” I asked. Surely Jon Mason wasn’t hanging out at McDonald’s on a work day.

“Remember that man we met at the jewelry store? The one you didn’t like? He came in just as we were leaving. He … asked for my phone number.” Hope’s blush was spreading. “He wondered if the children were yours.”

“Why would he think they were mine?” I asked.

“He thought Hiram was your husband,” said Hope, grinning from ear to ear.

“Why does everyone assume that?” I growled. “What possible reason could people have for assuming Harm belongs to me?”

“He follows you around like a puppy-dog? He acts hen-pecked? You take him for granted?” offered Hope, smirking.

“Did you give him your phone number?” I asked. “Is he going to bring his attitude into my life?”

“You are so unfair!” said Hope.

“Just so you know,” I said, “earlier this afternoon I watched him tear Fletch’s house apart, looking for something. “He and a friend broke a window and turned the place upside down, looking for … you won’t believe this, but …?diamonds.”

“He did?what? And how would you know that, anyway?”

“I followed him. I think he told Vaughn he worked for ICE.” I shared with Hope how I had spent my afternoon. She was horrified. Then I told her about reporting the break-in to Jordan. I didn’t tell her about Detective Inspector Mallory Drummond. Some things had to be seen to be believed.

“I can’t take these children back to the house,” said Hope.

“I know. Harm said you should all stay here tonight,” I added reluctantly.?Horrible thought!?

“Ruff!” A small, furry creature just awakened by thundering children cried out for help. “R-r-ruff!”

“It’s okay, baby, they won‘t hurt you,” I said, going to her defense.

“Where did you get her?” The children gathered around us, trying to touch the puppy.

“Can I pet her?”

“She likes me better.”?

The boys gathered around, mobbing the little dog. Dorita sidled up to me and wrapped her fingers around my hand.?Uh-oh! She’s going for the jugular!

“The puppy is afraid of you,” I said to the boys. “She needs to get used to you one at a time. Come sit here with me, Dorita. You can be first.” I settled the little girl on my lap and pulled the puppy closer. The little dog relaxed and licked Dorita’s small hand.

Hope shooed the boys away, and started them on a puzzle with five hundred pieces. That should hold them for at least a few minutes. I wondered where she’d found a puzzle on such short notice.?

Starting with the youngest, I gradually let each of the boys come and pet the puppy. “What should we call her?” I said.??She probably had a name already, but none of us knew what it was.

“R-r-ruffle,” said Dorita. “I’m going to call her Ruffle.” She looked at me for approval.

“Perfect!” I said. “That is the perfect name for this little dog. We’ll call her Ruffle.”

Dorita beamed, and bit off another chunk of my heart.

“I wike Wuffle,” said the youngest of the boys, a snagged-toothed redhead, maybe five years old.

“She’s cute,” said his oldest brother. “You like her, too, don’t you Mitch?”

The middle brother nodded his head shyly.

“Have any of you seen her before?” I asked. “ I found her near your house this afternoon, and she followed me home.”

The boys looked at each other and shrugged. “Nope,” said the older boy. “We’ve never seen her before.”

“Okay,” I said, “I have to ask. What are your names.” I was tired of trying to figure out who was who.

“Mitch,” said the middle boy.

“I’m Danny,” said the eldest. “And he’s Chip,” he said, nodding towards the youngest.

“I can say my own name,” said Chip. “I’m Charles, but they call me Chip.”

“Why do they call you Chip,“ I asked.

“ ‘Cause he’s a chip off the old block,” laughed Danny.

Chip scowled at him. “It’s because of my hair,” he said. “It’s like Dad’s.”

“My hair is like Mama’s,” said Dorita in a small voice. She looked sad. “I miss my mama.”

“She misses you, too, sweetheart,” I whispered I her ear. “Your mama loves you a lot.”

Two perfect tears rolled down her cheeks, but she was brave. She didn’t bawl her heart out, and I respected her for that.