Major Nanny

Chapter Thirteen

“Cory Miller said he didn’t see anyone with Zachary and Trevor, but they rode west and he didn’t have his eyes on them the whole time.” Harlan cut the truck engine and gazed up at the small apartment complex on the eastern edge of town. It was far nicer than the building where he and Matt rented apartments, he noted with surprise. Either horse grooming paid more than he realized, or Trevor Lewis had another source of income.

“It could’ve been another ranch hand,” Parker McKenna said over the phone. “Zachary probably doesn’t know them all by sight.”

“But why was he talking about getting the bitch out of the way?” There was a measure of viciousness in the phrase that Harlan found chilling in light of everything else that had happened to Lila Lockhart over the past few days.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t troubling.”

“If Lewis is at home, he’s not answering his door. And I don’t see his Honda in the lot.” Harlan cranked his truck. “I’ve spent the whole afternoon trying to track down the guy, and meanwhile, Stacy and Zachary are alone.”

“You don’t think someone’s deliberately sent us on a wild-goose chase, do you?”

“No-if Zachary hadn’t randomly asked his mother about what the strange man said, we’d never even know about it.” Still, he didn’t like being away from Stacy and Zachary this long. Even if Lewis turned out to be harmless, Stacy and Zachary were still prime targets for whoever was coming after the governor.

“Let’s move Lewis to the head of the background check list,” Harlan told Parker. “Top priority.”

“Will do.” Parker hung up.

He called Stacy next. She answered on the second ring. “I haven’t been able to track down Trevor Lewis.”

“You don’t have to,” she answered.

“Why not?”

“Because he’s standing right here.”

WHEN HARLAN WALKED into the house, Stacy could see he didn’t find the misunderstanding quite as humorous as she did. But she had to convince him Trevor was harmless before he started throwing punches and asking questions later. “Zachary misunderstood. It’s really kind of funny-”

“What’s he doing here?” Harlan asked softly, looking at Trevor, who sat on the sofa, looking at Zachary’s favorite horse book with her son.

“He went back to the stable for something and Cory mentioned you were looking for him. He came here to find you.”

“And you let him in?”

“He was horrified Zachary misunderstood what had been said.”

“Who was the big guy?”

“Trevor says it was one of the new cowboy hires-Trevor and Zachary ran across him during their ride. He was repairing an old fence in the lower pasture. What the guy actually said was ‘get that pitch out of the way’-the pitch he and another cowboy were using to weatherproof the fence.”

Harlan glanced at Trevor again. “Damned convenient.”

“I do know that old fence was due to be fixed. Maybe you could check into that tomorrow?”

“I’ve put Trevor to the front of the background check list,” Harlan murmured.

“You must be the guy who’s looking for me.”

Stacy turned to find Trevor standing only a couple of feet away, his hand outstretched.

Harlan hesitated, then shook Trevor’s hand. “Stacy just told me what happened.” He gave a nod toward the door. “If you don’t mind, I’ll walk you out. I have a couple more questions.”

Stacy made a face at Harlan as he and Trevor went outside, hoping he’d read her warning expression correctly. The last thing he needed to do was rough up one of the governor’s employees over something as stupid as a little boy misunderstanding an innocent comment.

“Trevor said I could go riding again tomorrow,” Zachary said from the sofa.

“Zachary, you’re already going riding this Friday, remember?”

“But he said I could go riding. He’s good with it.”

Still on edge, despite Trevor’s reassurances, Stacy lost her cool. “Zachary, I’m not good with it. You can’t do everything you want to do just because you want to do it. Sometimes you have to make compromises.”

Zachary rolled onto his back on the sofa, kicking the cushions. “I have to ride tomorrow. The horses depend on me!”

“I think the horses can do without you for a day.”

“No, I promised I’d go riding.” He started flapping his arms against the sofa cushions. “I promised.”

Stacy closed her eyes and counted to ten. “Zachary, we can talk about this later.”

“I promised! I promised the horses, Mommy. I promised the horses. I promised the horses.”

“Okay, Zachary, we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“You can’t break a promise, Mommy. Remember? You can’t break a promise. I promised the horses. I promised them, Mommy.” He was crying now, his words coming out in hitching sobs. He was approaching meltdown, and fast.

Stacy went to the desk by the window and pulled out a binder she kept there. She took it over to Zachary, who was writhing on the sofa, still crying about his promise to the horses. “Remember our schedule?”

“I promised.”

“Tomorrow, we’re supposed to spend the day at home, see?”

He sniffled but paid attention when she showed him their visual calendar for the week. Wednesday was their at-home day, symbolized by a photo of a house. “You know how you don’t like to change our schedule.”

“But the horses need me! I promised.”

The front door opened and Harlan entered. Stacy felt her stress level rise another notch as he stopped in the middle of the room, staring at Zachary’s tantrum with a look of growing concern. Welcome to the world of parenting aspies, she thought, turning her attention back to her son.

“We’re going riding Friday. I’ll even take the afternoon off Friday so I can be there to watch you the whole time. But I can’t take off tomorrow afternoon.”

“Why not? I promised the horses!”

“I have to work.”

“Can’t you work another time? The horses are expecting me.” Zachary hadn’t worked himself back up into shouting again, but she could see the signs.

“Zachary, why don’t we discuss this later? Wouldn’t you rather go to your room and watch your horse show DVD? You don’t even have to take a nap this afternoon if you’ll go watch the DVD. How about that?”

Sniffling, Zachary nodded. “I promised the horses,” he reminded her as she walked him to his bedroom. But he went inside and pulled the DVD from his shelf. He knew how to work the machine by himself, and she knew what he needed right now was to be alone, doing something he enjoyed, to reduce the stress that was working him up to a meltdown.

Rubbing her temples to fight against the headache starting to throb behind her eyes, Stacy returned to the living room and almost bumped into Harlan.

He caught her elbows to steady her. “Is he okay?”

She nodded, dropping her hands, which forced him to let his own hands fall away. She found herself missing the touch. “Too much change in his routine over the past few days. It’s a lot of stress for an aspie.”

He frowned. “Aspie?”

“It’s what people with Asperger’s syndrome call themselves. A lot of adult aspies think it’s the rest of us who are weird. They call us Neurotypicals.”

He grinned. “I like that. Who says everybody has to think the same way?” He headed into the kitchen.

Her eyebrows lifted with surprise. “Says the guy who used to march and chant in step with the rest of his unit.”

“There are benefits to working in unison,” he admitted, pulling a glass from the cabinet. “Want some tea?”

She shook her head. “I don’t suppose Zachary will ever be in the military. He likes structure, but let the drill instructor give him an unexpected order, and he’d fall apart.”

“Is that why he was upset? You changed something on him?”

“He made plans to ride at the Twin Harts stable without asking me. Promised the horses, you see, and you’re not supposed to break a promise.” She settled on the bar stool, watching him pour a glass of tea. “How did the talk with Trevor go? Do you believe his version of things?”

“I don’t know.” Harlan brought the tea over to the counter. The only thing between them now was the breakfast bar.

Stacy was struck by a sense of intimacy she hadn’t felt with anyone in a long time. By the end of her marriage, she and Anthony were more like acquaintances than friends, much less lovers. But with Harlan, she felt…connected, somehow. She was beginning to think of him as someone she could count on to be there for her when she needed him. It was a dangerous conceit.

“You still think he might be up to something?” she asked.

“I don’t know. His story sounds plausible. I’m definitely going to want to look deeper into his background. I’m not sure I’d let Zachary go riding with him alone anymore, either.”

“I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to talk Zachary out of wanting to ride tomorrow afternoon.”

“What do you have to get done tomorrow?”

She rattled off a long list of responsibilities. “We’re working against the clock anyway, and I can’t expect everybody else to work harder just to accommodate Zachary’s obsessions.”

“How about this? Some of that stuff you can do from here, after hours, right?”

“Yes, but someone has to get Zachary fed and bathed and ready for bed-”

“I can do it.”

She shook her head quickly. “It’s too much to ask.”

“You didn’t ask. I offered.”

“But why?”

“Because it will help you and Zachary.” His eyes darkened, and the air around them crackled with heat. “Let me help you.”

Blinking back the hot tears stinging her eyes, she nodded. “Okay. I’ll only take off as long as it takes to drop him off and pick him up.”

Harlan shook his head. “No, go riding with him. You do know how to ride, right?”

“Yes, but-”

“It’ll make his day. And he’ll be safer out there if you’re with him.” Harlan reached across the space between them and slid his fingertips along the curve of her jaw, making her shiver. “Zachary’s not the only one around here who needs a break from all the stress.”

She took a swift breath through her nose, fighting tears again. This time, she wasn’t able to stop them from spilling.

Harlan came around the counter and pulled her into his arms, his large hand curving around the back of her head in an awkward yet tender caress. “It’s okay,” he murmured. He seemed out of his depth, somehow, as if her sudden emotional breakdown scared him to death, but the fact that he was making an effort to comfort her anyway made her heart contract with an overwhelming rush of affection.

He was a man in a million. If she were any other woman, in any other situation, she’d be crazy not to snap him up before another woman figured out what a prize he was.

But she wasn’t another woman. And this wasn’t another situation.

She eased away from his embrace, swiping at her tears with her fingertips. “I’m sorry about that. I’m okay now.”

“Why don’t you go wash up? I’ll check the fridge and see what I can rustle up for dinner.”

She couldn’t hold back a watery smile. If Harlan wanted to play nursemaid to Zachary over the next couple of days, he needed to know a little of what it would entail. “Tuesdays are hot dog night. No mustard. And exactly twelve potato chips for Zachary. No more, no less. He likes apple juice with hot dogs. Not tea, not milk-apple juice. I have juice boxes in the fridge-that will do. And he only eats hot dogs from the small green plate.”

Harlan gave her a look of pure panic, but he nodded. “Is there a list somewhere? For when I watch him alone.”

“I’ll leave you one,” she promised.

He smiled his relief, making her heart skip a beat.

A man in a million, indeed.

“WE’RE WAITING FOR some information from California- Trevor Lewis grew up in San Mateo, but he’s been working as a horse groom throughout the Southwest for several years.” The second Harlan walked into the CSI offices on Wednesday, Vince Russo greeted him with a sheaf of notes he’d been working on all morning. “Lewis seems to have a good record with the stables where he’s worked here in Texas. We have preliminary info from stables where he worked in Arizona and New Mexico. Hopefully more by this afternoon.”

“And the stuff from Cali?”

“Probably tomorrow. Might be in the evening, though. Our California contacts aren’t very quick to respond.”

“Maybe we need new California contacts,” Harlan grumbled. “Where’s Coltrane?” Wade Coltrane was an experienced undercover agent, and Harlan had decided he needed someone on the inside of the governor’s staff.

Vince looked at his watch. “Halfway through his vows.”

“His vows?”

“He and Lindsay eloped. They decided a big wedding would take too long, and besides, when you already have four-year-old twins, why wait?” Vince grinned. “They found a little bed-and-breakfast up in Lubbock that had a wedding chapel nearby. Carrie thinks it’s the most romantic thing she’s ever heard of. I have a feeling it’s going to be hard to surprise her when it’s our time to get hitched.” Vince had fallen hard for the country music star when he’d been tasked with protecting her a couple of months earlier. Another CSI bachelor bites the dust.

“Why am I always the last to know about anything that happens in this place?” Harlan asked. Some investigator he was.

“You’ve been a little busy.”

“Yeah.” Harlan took the notes Vince gave him to his desk and settled into the leather office chair, leaning back until the chair springs creaked. He looked over the notes, trying to find patterns that might give him a better idea whether Trevor Lewis was just an ordinary guy who worked at a stable or if he was a real threat to Stacy and Zachary.

And the governor, of course, he added with a mental kick to his own backside. He’d been hired to protect Lila Lockhart, first and foremost.

But he couldn’t quite make himself accept that anyone’s safety was more important than Stacy’s and Zachary’s.

“There was one thing in those notes that nagged at me, but I haven’t figured out why,” Vince said, rolling his chair closer to Harlan’s desk. “When Trevor Lewis was working on a ranch outside Melrose, New Mexico, he asked for a week off in the middle of foaling season. He’d been working there less than six months and didn’t have vacation time built up, so he took the time off without pay.”

“I think he has an independent source of income,” Harlan said, filling Vince in about Trevor Lewis’s apartment. “It’s nicer than yours or mine. Rent at that apartment complex is close to a grand or more a month-I priced it when I was looking for a place to live.”

“But why take off during foaling season? What did he need the time off for?”

“I don’t know,” Harlan admitted. “What was the date?”

“March 21.”

Didn’t ring any bells. “Maybe I’ll ask Trevor that question the next time I see him.” He’d talked to Stacy a few minutes before he walked into the CSI offices and learned she was on her way to the Twin Harts stable. He’d checked Trevor Lewis’s schedule-he got off at three on Wednesdays, so Stacy and Zachary should be safe enough. She said she was going to ask Cory Miller to take them out.

As long as she stayed away from Trevor Lewis, she should be just fine.

STACY HAD ASSUMED she could ask Cory to take her and Zachary out riding on Wednesday afternoon, but the stable manager wasn’t there when she walked Zachary down that afternoon. Only Trevor and a couple of other grooms were around.

“The governor and her daughters wanted to check out the south pasture,” Trevor explained. “They came here about a half hour ago and wanted Cory to show them the improvements he was making to that area, since they’re thinking of adopting several shelter horses out of the Houston SPCA. They want to make sure we have enough places for them to roam safely.”

“Well, that’s okay. I can stay today, so I’ll take Zachary riding myself.”

Trevor returned the stall rake to the tool rack on the barn wall. “I’m about to clock out, so I’ll come with.”

Apprehension fluttered through Stacy’s stomach. “That’s not really necessary. I’m sure you have better things to do with your afternoon.”

“Nope, not a thing.” Trevor grinned at Zachary. “Ready to help me saddle up Alamo?”

“Alamo is an Appaloosa,” Zachary told Stacy, tugging her hand for her to follow him to a nearby stall. He looked up at the horse standing at the stall door, beaming. “Alamo’s spotting pattern is a blanket with spots pattern,” he told her, lifting his arms for her to pick him up. She had to hold on tight as he lurched toward the horse, petting the animal’s dark nose.

“You’ve been reading up on your Apps, haven’t you?” Trevor ruffled Zachary’s hair. “Let’s get Alamo saddled up.”

“He looks awfully big,” Stacy said as Trevor brought the gelding out of the stall. He wasn’t a particularly tall horse, but his shoulders were wide and powerful, and his rump was even larger, with thick, muscular hindquarters that marked him as a quarter horse. “Are you sure this is the horse Zachary should ride?”

“Ah, he can handle old Alamo. Can’t you, Zachary?”

“Let’s go!” Zachary wriggled from Stacy’s grasp and hopped to the ground, running over to pat the Appaloosa’s shoulder.

She knew that the horse’s wild-eyed look was typical of Appaloosa horses, but she couldn’t tamp down a bubble of panic rising in her throat. “Zachary, maybe we should wait until another day to ride-”

“Mommy, I promised!” Zachary’s voice rose dangerously.

“Okay,” she said quickly, wishing Harlan were here to talk to. She felt pushed, trapped by the constant threat of a Zachary meltdown and Trevor Lewis’s breezy confidence that Zachary could handle anything Alamo could hand him.

Trevor chose a friendly palomino mare named Delta for Stacy, while he saddled up Soldado, a feisty chestnut gelding, for himself. “We’ll take it at a walk until we reach the east pasture, then we can let them canter a bit.”

“I’m not sure Zachary’s ready for cantering.”

Trevor met her nervous gaze with a smile. “Relax, Mom. Zachary’s been cantering for a couple of weeks. Alamo is an easy ride, and Zachary’s doing great with him.”

She had to admit her son’s physical coordination was better than a lot of aspie children. Charlotte attributed it to the physical therapy Stacy had started Zachary on once the Asperger’s syndrome was diagnosed.

“I’d just prefer he keep it to a walk.”

“Horses like to run,” Zachary said with a tug of the reins, expertly guiding Alamo through the stable door and out into the yard. “I have to let him run. I promised.”

She was going to have to have a long talk with Zachary about making promises.

HE WAS JUST MAKING UP an excuse to see Stacy, Harlan knew, but he told himself it was concern for her and Zachary that drove him back to the ranch around three. A car accident on the highway that bordered Twin Harts Ranch slowed him down, delaying his arrival, so he bypassed the main house and drove directly down the access road to the stable, stopping to ask the guard at the checkpoint if he’d seen Stacy and Zachary.

“They left about five minutes ago with one of the grooms.”

“I thought they were going with Cory Miller.”

The guard shook his head. “Miller took the governor and her daughter to see one of the lower pastures that’s been reclaimed. Ms. Giordano went with one of the younger grooms.”

The first hint of alarm fluttered in Harlan’s gut. “Do you know which one?” But even before the guard answered, Harlan knew what he’d say.

The guard checked the sign-in sheet. “It was Lewis. Trevor Lewis.”