five thirty, she was fully dressed, her short gray-streaked blonde hair was stylishly tousled, and she was already wearing bright raspberry lipstick. “Did you have a good run?”
“Good but cold.” Bree rubbed her hands together.
“In two more months, you’ll be bitching about the heat.” Dana dusted a large cappuccino with cocoa powder and handed it over. “It’s a double.”
Bree wrapped her cold fingers around the mug and sipped. Her body hummed in anticipation of the caffeine like one of Pavlov’s dogs. “If I don’t get my run in early, it doesn’t happen. The day gets away from me before the sun comes up.” Plus, Bree had needed to burn off her stress from the previous night’s crime scene. She drank more cappuccino. “Thanks for this.”
“You’re welcome.” Dana poured steamed milk into her own mug. “Wow. You’re pale.”
“Kayla was up last night.” Thankfully, Bree had been able to get the little girl back to sleep in her own bed.
“Ugh. I thought she was over that stage,” Dana said.
“They made Mother’s Day cards at school yesterday.” The crack in Bree’s heart deepened.
“Shit. Poor kid.”
“Yeah.” Bree sighed. “A little warning from the school would have been nice. I could have prepared her.”
Dana nodded. “She’s still moving forward in general. There are bound to be small setbacks.”
“I know, but each one breaks my heart. I should have stopped home at bedtime last night. The change in routine set her up for a restless night.” Guilt poked Bree like a sharp stick. She was unprepared to be a parent. She felt like a pinch hitter who’d never played baseball. Even when she did her best to make the right decision, she sometimes failed miserably.
“You can’t be with her 24/7,” Dana said. “It’s not possible for anyone to never be away from their kids.”
“I know.” But Bree didn’t have to like it. She turned toward the doorway. “I’m going to shower.”
“Put on some lipstick!” Dana called after her. “You look like a corpse.”
Bree carried her cup with her upstairs and finished her cappuccino in the shower. After blasting her hair with the dryer for a few minutes, she dressed in dark-brown tactical cargoes and a uniform shirt. She removed her gun from the biometric safe in the nightstand and slid it into the holster on her hip. She secured her backup piece in an ankle holster.
She sat on the edge of the bed and put on her socks.
“Aunt Bree,” a small voice said.
Bree looked up. Kayla stood in the doorway. The little girl was teary-eyed. A chubby white-and-black pointer mix stood at her side. The dog’s worried eyes shifted back and forth from Bree to the child’s face. Still in her pajamas, Kayla dragged her stuffed pig by one leg. A memory slammed into Bree’s mind: her sister, Erin, age four, clutching her stuffed bunny as they listened to their parents fight. A short while later, their father had shot their mother, then turned the gun on himself while the children hid. Bree blinked away the image. She couldn’t let the past drag her backward when she was needed in the present.
She focused on the little girl. “You’re up early.”
“I had another nightmare.” Kayla rubbed an eye. “I dreamed you were gone.”
“Oh, baby. Come here.” Bree stood and padded across the room. She hugged the little girl close and patted Ladybug’s head. Usually, the dog was attached to Bree, something Bree had almost gotten used to, but Ladybug always seemed to know when Kayla needed her more.
Kayla’s body trembled for a few seconds, then she sighed and stilled. “I don’t want to go to school.”
Bree would get another chastising call from the vice principal. Kayla had missed more than three weeks of school over the winter. The little girl needed time to process her grief, but she was improving. It had been only four months since she’d suffered a tragedy that would have brought an adult to their knees, let alone a child.
The hell with the vice principal. Bree would deal with him. She would continue to make the best decisions for Kayla, not the school district.
“OK.” Bree crossed the hall and knocked on Luke’s door. “Time to get up.”
He answered with a groan.
“Luke is grumpy in the morning.” Kayla rubbed her eye again.
“So am I.” Bree led her niece downstairs.
Dana looked up from her coffee mug and checked the time on the wall clock. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I had a nightmare.” Kayla’s lip quivered.
“It’s OK.” Bree wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her.