She studied his expression, beyond the tears that could well be of the crocodile variety. He was left-handed, but strong enough to have swung with either. Yet he seemed to be telling the truth. Still she couldn't miss the additional glint of something more.
A crush.
Her heart hurt for the kid, but she couldn't ignore what logic told her, as well. This child was as big as an adult, and while she knew she hadn't done a thing to encourage him... And ah damn, what a time to be standing outside in her pj's, albeit more modest than most sleepwear.
"I think, uh, I'm afraid my dad might have been trying to hurt you." He swallowed hard, blinking back the glint in his big thug eyes. "Because maybe he's the one who killed that pilot and my old man's afraid you'll remember."
Nikki crossed her arms, rubbing away the increasing chill. "Your dad?"
"Yeah, he was that guy Owens's sponsor and they talked on the phone that day, and then Dad was out really late."
Carson's hand fell away. "You're William Watkins's son."
"Yes, sir. How do you know my dad?"
Carson hesitated, then answered, "Our paths have crossed at the base."
Carson didn't expand on the statement and just as she'd read the undertones in Billy Wade's eyes, she couldn't miss that Carson was hiding something now. Something she didn't have time to analyze as the porch lamp snapped on.
A door creaked behind her, broadcasting her awake household a second before her father burst onto the porch in sweatpants, tugging a T-shirt over his head. Her mother followed, slower, cinching her satin robe at her swelling waist.
Great. She'd wrecked her parents' reunion.
J.T.'s eyes radar-locked on Carson, then Nikki in her low-slung sleep pants and tight running tank, then right back to Carson again with a furrowed disapproval.
Geez, she was an adult woman. Her father really couldn't expect she would enter the convent. And darn, she had more important things to worry about now.
She was too old to be living at home, even temporarily. Yet as much as she wanted to politely tell her father to tone it down a notch, she couldn't ruin his homecoming. Besides, the cop sirens sounding from around the corner made a big enough to-do for one evening. Please God, this would clear away the chaos once and for all. And after the chaos?
Even with the end possibly in sight, she wondered if she would ever have the normal life she craved back again.
Chapter 13
A day out on the ocean felt too normal with Nikki along.
Although Carson figured they were both due some peace after the chaos of the night before. His eyes on the distant cove where he planned to anchor soon, he gripped the wheel, sunburst nylon sail stretching tauter, the hull slicing faster through Charleston Harbor on a cloud-free winter afternoon. Nikki stood in front of him, equally as tense in the bracket of his arms.
At least they were finally away from the prying eyes of her father—who'd stayed out in the dark yard working on bogus-ass tasks until Carson gave up getting Nikki alone again. Apparently daytime outings with Nikki were cool by the old guy.
Sailing had been his solitary escape, alone on the boat even when there were boats bobbing or skimming in the distance. While he'd thrown a couple of fishing parties in the past, he'd never used his boat for dates, something private that would invade his sanctuary.
Now whenever he stepped on board, he would always think of Nikki with her face tipped to the sun or her swishing pony-tail pulled through the ball cap. Chocolate hair swayed in time with the boat's rhythmic cuts through the waves. Wind plastered her clothes to her lithe body he now knew intimately well.
And with that knowledge came a possessiveness he couldn't deny. He wouldn't be Neanderthal enough to voice it, but he couldn't ignore the primal pump of rage that still charged through him every time he thought about that teenage kid stalking Nikki. A kid who happened to be the son of Will Watkins, Gary Owens's sponsor.
The fact was now public knowledge, thanks to Billy Wade's outpouring to the cops. The kid swore his old man owed Owens gambling money. They must have fought that night and Nikki saw the accidental death that resulted. The boy had confessed to the hang-up calls, using pay phones to keep from being traced. He swore he'd been trying to get the nerve to tell Nikki his fears about his father, thus the hang-ups. He adamantly denied having anything to do with slashed tires and a loose railing. And the Rohypnol? That must have been from Owens.
Carson's fingers gripped the wheel tighter. This was all getting too weird for his peace of mind, but he'd had no reason to guess the kid at Nikki's school was the son of someone in A.A.
Reis was looking into Will Watkins's alibi that night. The military retiree had started out the evening with Vic and Carson, going to a meeting, but that had wrapped up by ten. What about after?
Will had some hefty demons on his back, battling drinking and a gambling addiction. Or had it really been the son, a jealous kid lusting after his teacher and trying to throw off the investigators in desperation?
At least Reis had solid leads to follow and Carson figured he would keep Nikki occupied and in his sights at all times. He just hoped what he had to tell her today wouldn't send her overboard.
Talking about his alcoholism never ranked high on his list of favorite pastimes, but he was getting better at vocalizing the feelings and experiences. Discussing it helped others just starting on the road to recovery. However telling Nikki and seeing the disillusionment in her eyes would be tough.
Autopilot activated, Carson stepped away from the wheel, untying lines to slow the boat and ready to anchor. Would she notice he'd brought them to the cove by the small battlefield landmark where they'd made love for the first time? The trees looked like any other, and the two lopsided cannons could have been from a dozen other sites. But he knew otherwise.