All the way back to Asheville, Tessa rode in silence, her iPod plugged into her ears.
I grabbed my stuff from the hotel, checked out, and drove to the safe house.
Tessa and her iPod rode along in silence.
The safe house Tessa and I would be staying in was a dun-colored ranch-style home on the outer fringe of the city, near the French Broad River. Sheriff Wallace had assigned Officers Jason Stilton and Patricia Muncey to guard Tessa. They were waiting for us at the house when we arrived. I recognized them from the briefing I’d given on Friday.
“Getting colder,” said Officer Stilton as he tossed his cigarette into the grass and led me inside the house.
Tessa and her iPod walked past us in silence.
“Yeah,” I said watching her step past me. “Guy on the radio said something about snow tomorrow morning.”
Officer Stilton grunted, which I guess meant he agreed.
“Don’t mind the toys,” said Officer Muncey as we stepped into the living room. “Haven’t quite cleaned up from the last occupants yet.”
The living room smelled vaguely of cat litter and baby powder. Toddler toys lay scattered across the floor, making the simplest trek through the living room a challenge. But the bigger challenge appeared to be avoiding stepping on one of the two cats that lurked relentlessly underfoot or appeared out of nowhere and sprawled in front of you, waiting for you to scratch them.
“Domestic abuse case with a city council member,” said Officer Muncey. “They brought his wife and kids here to protect them.”
“Took the kids,” grumbled Jason Stilton. “Left the cats.”
Tessa pulled out her iPod ear buds and knelt down to pet the pumpkin-colored furrball. “Oh, they’re so cute! What are their names?”
“That one’s Sunshine and the black one’s Midnight,” he said.
I knelt down to pet Midnight.
She clawed at the air and hissed at me.
“You have to reach out toward her with your hand open,” said Tessa, demonstrating. “And do it more slowly. That way she knows you’re not going to hurt her.”
I wondered if Tessa was really talking about the cat.
Midnight purred, rolled onto her back, and let Tessa scratch her stomach. “See?”
“I never would have pegged you as a cat person, Tessa,” I said.
“I love cats.”
“I didn’t know-”
“There’s a lot you don’t know,” she said flatly.
I was beginning to realize just how true that was.
“Hello, there.”
I turned toward the voice and saw that Ralph had stepped into the room.
“What are you doing here?” I said.
“Just wanted to say hi to the brains of the family.”
“Thank you,” said Tessa.
“You remember me, right?”
She nodded. “Special Agent Ralph Hawkins.”
“Uncle Ralph.” He gave her a hug.
So I made her cry, but Uncle Ralph got a hug. Wonderful.
She pointed at his pocket. “What’s that?”
“Um, nothing.”
She feinted to the right and then leaned left, stuffed her hand into his pocket, and produced his PSP. “Sweet,” she said.
“Hey, give me that!” He tried to snatch it away from her, but she stepped back just in time.
“I should have warned you, Ralph,” I said. “She’s good.”
“Why are you playing video games?” she asked. “I thought you were supposed to be like solving murders or something.”
“Everyone needs a break sometimes. Now give me that.” He reached for it again, missed. Sighed.
“So what are you playing?”
He gave up and leaned an arm against the wall. “Sorcerer’s Realm IV. I can’t seem to make it past the crypt on Level Five.”
“No prob. I can help you.”
“You play?”
She did that sarcastic teenage girl jut-your-head-forward-and-tweak-your-voice thing. “Yeah.”
“Oh,” said Ralph. “Right.”
She flopped onto the couch, and he positioned himself next to her. Then she began to maneuver the game controls like a pro while he watched submissively. “See that cave?” she said.
“Yeah.”
“Well, there’s a secret passage in there, but you need to behead the ogre first.”
“I didn’t know you could behead him. I always just beat on him with the club.”
“No, beheading is definitely better.”
I watched them for a few minutes, Tessa pointing. Ralph nodding, his head bobbing up and down above those massive shoulders. Watching Ralph trying to use his thick fingers to press the tiny control buttons made me think of trying to type wearing a catcher’s mitt. No wonder he couldn’t beat Tony.
And every once in a while Tessa would laugh. For the first time in months I actually heard my stepdaughter laugh.
As she showed my friend how to behead ogres.