Christmas with Daddy

Mandy had woken half an hour ago and Bridget had changed her diaper and given her something to drink. Now Mandy was sitting on the floor next to Lefty. The boxer had befriended the baby, not seeming to mind at all when Mandy pulled his ears or poked at his whiskers.

The other dogs were still sleeping, worn-out by the long walk and the romp in Nick’s backyard. Herman was on the floor by Nick’s recliner, while Stanley and Foster were settled on the rug by the front door. Clearly they weren’t going to be left behind when it came time to leave.

Earlier, she’d found an old towel and used it to dry the pads on the dogs’ feet, then the puddles on the kitchen floor. And she’d cleaned up the mess she and Nick had made in the kitchen preparing Mandy’s lunch.

Now with the baby happily distracted by Lefty, Bridget had nothing to do. There were bookshelves next to the television. Maybe she should find something to read. Framed photographs next to the books distracted her, though. She found one of Nick and two other men who had to be his brothers.

Nice-looking guys, all of them, with thick dark hair and likable grins. But to her, only Nick had that special something. A sparkle in his eyes, a certain slant to his grin. She’d bet he had been a handful as a little boy.

There were other photos, too. One of an older woman—probably Nick’s mom. She had the same light blue eyes…like the sky on a cold winter day.

Bridget caught her breath when she noticed a wedding photo of Nick and Jessica. Oh my Lord, his wife had made such a beautiful bride. What would it be like to be that gorgeous?

When she was younger, Bridget had often despaired of her own wiry red hair and plain features. But not anymore. Being pretty didn’t guarantee a woman love and happiness. Wasn’t Jessica the perfect example of that? She and Nick may have looked like a Hollywood couple on their wedding day, but they’d never even celebrated their first anniversary.

Bridget moved on to the next shelf, which had been dedicated to chronicling the first six months of Mandy’s life. She smiled at the image of Mandy as a newborn, in her father’s arms. Nick looked happy but nervous.

He still seemed a little nervous around his daughter. Maybe this three-week vacation of his ex-wife’s was a blessing in disguise. He needed time to get comfortable with his new role as father.

She would help him with that.

As soon as she had the thought, she realized she was overreaching. Nick’s competence as a father wasn’t any of her business. Looking after Mandy didn’t change the nature of their relationship. They were neighbors. Good neighbors who looked out for one another and offered a hand, when needed.

Nothing else.

Bridget paced the main floor, as anxious as Lefty during a thunderstorm. Nowhere did she see any preparations for Christmas. No tree, no wrapping paper, no decorations.

Guys without families probably didn’t bother with those things. But Nick had a family now. Surely he’d want his daughter’s first Christmas to be special. Maybe she should suggest…

Oh, Lord, she was doing it again. Getting too involved. How Nick decided to spend the holidays with his daughter was none of her business, either.

The dogs. They were her business. She glanced at her watch. Five more minutes had passed. Still no sign of Nick.

Okay, now it was time to panic.

CHAPTER THREE

BRIDGET WAS ROUTED to messages on Nick’s cell phone. “It’s almost five,” she said. “If you’re not home in two minutes I’m taking Mandy to my place.”

She picked up the baby and coaxed a smile from her. It wasn’t hard to do. Mandy really was a doll. Obviously Lefty thought so, too. The boxer looked up at Bridget mournfully, as if to say, why did you have to take her away?

Bridget bundled Mandy into her snowsuit again, then settled her into the stroller cautiously. To her relief Mandy was perfectly happy to go on another outing.

Still, Bridget was not impressed. If Nick thought he could flash his sexy grin at her and get away with stunts like this, he was sorely mistaken.

NICK HAD BEEN PROMOTED to detective four weeks ago, and he loved it. He loved being able to dress in plain clothes and drive an unmarked car. He loved working regular hours instead of shifts and having his weekends free the majority of the time.

He especially loved the challenge of working on cases and feeling he was actually making a difference.

When he reached the mall, he parked and took out the photo he had of the missing girl. Tara Lang smiled up at him, her large brown eyes full of defiance.

Clearly she hadn’t wanted to pose for this photo. Who had taken it, he wondered? One of her parents, perhaps?

Fourteen years from now, would Mandy look at him like this if he tried to take her picture? He sure hoped not.

A group of kids were hanging out around the benches by the mall entrance, probably waiting for rides from their parents. He studied them as he passed by, but none of them came close to matching Tara’s description.

Once inside he headed for the food court, where Tara had supposedly been spotted. He circled the area, passing Japanese eateries, burger spots, smoothie joints and taco stalls, stopping frequently to show the picture and ask if anyone had seen the girl.

No luck.

He hadn’t really expected it to be this easy, but he’d hoped. Solving this case would be a great way to begin his career as an investigator, since the Chief had made it clear that this case was the number-one priority of the entire department.

Nick went over every corridor of the mall, twice, before finally conceding defeat. As he headed for his parked car, his mind was full of thoughts about Tara Lang. He wondered where she was right now. Was she safe with friends?

Or out on her own?

Was she still defiant and angry at her parents? Or was she scared and sorry she’d run away?

Then there was the worst possibility of all. That she’d been the victim of a crime. Kidnapped, assaulted or even…

No. He wasn’t going there. Not yet. She hadn’t been missing more than twenty-four hours. Her father believed she was hiding out with one of her friends. Hopefully he was right.

As he slid into the driver’s seat, Nick’s focus settled on the time display. Cripes, was it five o’clock already?

Where had the time gone? He opened a window and slapped a siren on the roof of the car. God, Bridget was going to be totally pissed at him.

ONLY AFTER HE’D ARRIVED home and found the place deserted did Nick think to check his messages. As he listened to Bridget’s recording he noticed she’d also left her business card on his kitchen table. Pampered Pooches…loving care for your best friend.

He stared at the slogan for a moment. He knew, firsthand, that it wasn’t an idle claim. Bridget did give loving care to all of her dogs. She had a big, generous heart and he’d taken advantage of that today when he’d convinced her to help him with Mandy.

And now he was late. Not a good first impression.

Using a magnet, he stuck the card to his fridge, then jogged out to the street. Bridget lived just two doors down in an identical town house to all the others on this block. But she’d managed to make her place stand out thanks to her mailbox, which had been built and painted to look like a miniature doghouse.

A dusting of snow covered the sidewalk that led to her door and he could see the tracks of Mandy’s stroller, several sets of boot prints, and lots of doggy paws leading up and down the stairs. He added his footprints to the mix, hurrying to the door, then knocking.

As he waited he noticed two discreet brass placards screwed to the wall just under the outdoor lamp. Pampered Pooches and Bridget Humphrey, Numerologist.

He cringed at the second one, just as the door was whisked open.

“About time.” She sounded annoyed.

“I’m sorry. I should have called—”

Bridget nodded. “No kidding. Nick, if this arrangement is going to work, you need to respect my schedule and my time. I have commitments, too, you know.”

He apologized again. “I just couldn’t resist a second look around the mall.”