Bea floundered only for a second. Her own initial reaction to Frank’s kidnapping having passed, she snapped into a role in which she excelled — taking care of someone else in a crisis. I could see her home in on me like a smart bomb. “Thanks for coming by, Cecilia,” she said, and turned and started to lead the way in.
“Excuse me,” I said, halting the parade. Cassidy loosened his grip, and I straightened my spine as I turned back to Cecilia.
She was still standing on the sidewalk, tight-lipped and unmoving.
“Do you really have to leave now?” I asked.
Her eyes widened (long-lashed, beautiful, big brown eyes — damn them). She relaxed out of her combat stance, though, and said, “Yes. I’m sorry, I can’t stay.”
“Will you be at home later?”
Openly puzzled, she said, “Yes.”
“Mind if I call you?”
She almost asked, “Why?” I saw the word begin to form on her lips, but she stopped herself and said, “Of course not. Bea has my number.”
She turned and walked away. When I looked back at Cassidy, he appeared to be amused. Bea was holding open the screen door. With as much dignity as I could muster, I walked between them and into the house.
I was met by Mike O’Brien, Frank’s brother-in-law, who simply said, “Oh, Irene,” and pulled me into a big, comforting hug; I felt tears well up. When Frank’s sister, Cassie, joined us, it was nearly too much. I might have broken down in their embrace had I not heard a gruff voice say, “Here, now, don’t smother the girl.”
When I saw the man who spoke those words, I smiled. I hadn’t seen him in years, and he was a little thinner and a little grayer, but I knew him right away. “You’re looking good, Bear.”
Bea introduced Cassidy to the others, her introduction of Bear Bradshaw reminding me that his first name was Gregory. Cassie said, “Cassie is short for Kathryn — perhaps with the two of us in the same house, Detective Cassidy, it would be easier to call me Kathyrn.”
“Heck, no,” Bear Bradshaw said. “We’ll just call this guy Hopalong.”
Bea and Bear enjoyed it, but the rest of us just looked at Cassidy in sympathy. He didn’t seem in the least bothered by it. “You could all just call me Tom,” he said.
“Actually, I prefer Kathryn,” my sister-in-law said. “Only the family and certain untrainable old coots insist on calling me by my childhood name.”
“You never told me—” I began.
“I never told you, because you’re part of the family,” she said with a quick reproachful glance at her mother. “Now, would either of you like some hot coffee?”
We both said yes, and she went off to the kitchen to make a fresh pot. Cassidy asked Bea if he could talk to her alone for a moment.
I glanced at my watch. Eighteen minutes before five o’clock. I moved closer to the phone, which was near Bear Bradshaw, on a table full of knickknacks. Bea was a big believer in knickknacks.
“I wondered if you were going to come over here and say hello to me,” Bradshaw said. “I’ve just had knee surgery, or I’d get up and greet you properly.”
“Sorry, Bear. I hadn’t noticed the cane. Are you doing okay?”
“Fine, I’ll be fine. Just need to baby it a little while it heals. It’s a typical cop’s problem, I guess. Getting in and out of the car all day is hard on the knees, they tell me. But never mind my puny little problems. How are you holding up?”
“My problems are puny, too. Frank’s the one to worry over.”
“Frank? No, the boy will be all right. I keep telling Bea, Frank has a good head on his shoulders. Just like his dad did. But Frank’s even smarter than Brian was. He’ll be okay.”
I didn’t bother arguing with him, because every word was said as if he wanted to reassure himself.
“You go back a long way with the Harrimans, don’t you, Bear?” Mike asked.
“You betcha. Brian was one of my best friends. After my first wife left me, Brian always included me in his family’s holiday get-togethers — you know, so I wouldn’t be alone.”
“You remarried?” I asked.
“Yes, I guess we have a lot of catching up to do. I’m a widower now. My second wife died about a year ago. But I hear my matchmaking finally paid off.”
“Your matchmaking?” Mike asked.
Bradshaw grinned at me. “With you and Frank, Irene. Remember?”
“Well, I guess you did get Frank to start talking to me.”
He laughed. “Oh, that was priceless! He’s always been quiet, but not the tongue-tied type, you know? But when he saw you — oh, God! First night, I kept waiting for him to say something, but not a word until we got back in the car. Then he’s
“You bet that Frank and I would get married?”
“Yes, I did! Cookie said the boy would never marry a reporter, that the boy knew better than that. And damned if the SOB didn’t run around behind my back and load Frank up with a lot of crap about how cops and reporters should never fraternize, and so on. Well, it’s true, but you two were the exception, and Cookie has just never
