Alex cuddled in Bobby's embrace until he drifted to sleep. When she was certain he was well asleep, she slid out of bed, pulled on her robe and went into the kitchen to clean up the dinner mess. While she was working, she called Sutter, surprised when his wife answered the phone. "Uhm, hello, Mrs. Sutter. This is Detective Eames. May I please speak to your husband?"
"Why? What do you want with Terrence?"
"If this isn't a good time, I can call back..."
"You have no business calling in the first place!" she said, her voice becoming shrill. "Is Bobby there?"
"Excuse me?"
"Let me talk to my son," she demanded.
Alex felt her anger begin to rise. Frankie Sutter had no business demanding anything of her, particularly not anything concerning Bobby. She had given up that right decades earlier, when she abandoned her sons. Before she could respond, however, she heard Sutter's voice, followed by Frankie's angry reply. She heard another voice, which she guessed was Ethan, then Sutter came on the phone.
"Hello?"
"Hello, colonel. This is Alex Eames."
"Detective...I'm sorry about that. I don't usually leave my phone in the living room. What can I do for you?"
"I discussed your offer with Bobby, if it still stands," she said cautiously.
"Of course it does. I've even discussed it with Adele, and she would be happy to help out."
Alex smiled, remembering the colonel's description of the woman as a nurturing soul. "I thought I'd call and let you know that I convinced him to accept your offer."
"Excellent! I'm glad to hear that. I'll let Adele know and she'll be there in the morning. Am I correct in assuming you won't need anyone on the weekends?"
"That's right. I'll be here on the weekends. Are you sure it'll be all right, sir? I mean, Mrs. Sutter..."
"Don't worry about my wife. James will still be here. Will you be there in the morning to give Adele the details of his medication and any special instructions?"
"Yes, I will."
Sutter paused. "Do you think he would object if I stopped by some afternoon? It probably won't be tomorrow, but maybe later in the week?"
"I think that will be fine."
"Thank you."
"No, colonel, thank you. I'll be able to concentrate a lot better knowing Adele will be here with Bobby."
"And I promise, my wife has no idea where he lives."
"That's good. He's not up for that kind of stress right now."
"I would agree with you on that. Well, have a good night, detective. Thank you for talking him into letting me help."
"Good night, Colonel Sutter."
She finished the last of the dishes, wiped down the counters and turned out the lights. Returning to the bedroom, she removed her robe, set her phone on the nightstand and slid back into the bed. Settling herself against his warm body, she ran her fingertips over his chest. He made a soft noise and shifted closer to her. She smiled, draped her arm over him and went to sleep.
Alex was getting ready for work when Adele arrived, knocking on the door. She let the housekeeper in with a smile. "Hello, Adele. Thank you for coming."
"It's my pleasure, dear."
"Bobby is still sleeping," she said as she led Adele into the kitchen. "His medicine is here on the refrigerator. One is for pain and the other is to prevent infection. Make sure he takes the antibiotics. There is plenty of food in the fridge and the pantry. He is recovering from a serious injury. He was stabbed in the side by a suspect. The wound is healing but it itches. There's a steroid cream in the cabinet over the bathroom sink that seems to help. If he gets grouchy, it may be because he's in pain, but don't expect him to admit that to you. He's stubborn, but he'll listen if you insist." She picked up a pen and grabbed the notepad near the phone. Scribbling her phone number onto the pad, she set down the pen. "That's my cell phone number. Call me if he gives you any problems."
Adele listened patiently to everything Alex told her. "I'm sure we'll be fine. You go on to work and try not to worry. He sounds a lot like the colonel, and I've been taking care of that man his entire adult life."
Alex smiled and returned to the bathroom to finish getting ready. Once she was ready to go, she went into the bedroom where Bobby still slept. She slipped into her shoes and walked to the bed. Leaning down, she gently kissed him and whispered, "See you later. Please behave."
He made a soft noise and shifted his position, but he didn't wake. She stroked his soft curls for a moment and then she left.
Adele checked on Bobby a few times as the morning wore on, and she let him sleep. He needed his rest if he was to heal. She had just finished making lunch when he came out of the bedroom. He hesitated in the doorway, and she looked up with a smile. "Hello, Bobby. Are you hungry?"
He didn't answer, but he moved to the table and sat down. She placed a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich in front of him with a glass of apple juice. He looked at the food, then up at Adele. "Did Alex tell you I like tomato soup?"
"No. It's good for you when you're recovering, and it's one of the colonel's favorites."
He picked up his spoon. Adele bustled around the kitchen, and he heard the rattle of his pill bottles. She returned to the table with two tablets and set them by his bowl. When she walked away, he asked, "Aren't you going to make sure I take them?"
"Why would I do that? You're a grown man. If you take them, then you'll feel better and heal faster. If you don't, then your recovery will be delayed. It's your choice. I'm not your mother or your wife. Take them or don't."
Bobby considered her words, then looked over to find her cleaning the dishes she'd used to make lunch. After a moment, he took the pills and resumed eating his lunch.
When he was done eating, Bobby stood up and grabbed his dishes to set in the sink. Adele bustled over. "Here, let me take those. I'll wash them before the water gets cold. You go sit down and rest."
He let her take the dishes and watched her wash them. She looked over her shoulder. "Is something wrong?"
"Uh...there is a dishwasher..."
"It's faster to wash them by hand when there are just a few dishes. Uses less water."
That made sense. Alex used his dishwasher more than he ever did. He limped into the living room.
He eased himself into his recliner and looked around the room, rubbing his side. Although nothing appeared out of place, the room smelled of furniture polish and cleaner. His house was always tidy, unless he was in the middle of a case, when it was cluttered with books and files and random papers, but now it seemed a deeper level of clean—the kind of clean where a baby would be safe.
Adele came into the room. "How is your side?"
"It's okay," he lied.
She frowned at him in the disapproving manner of a loving grandmother. "You can trust me, dear. I am only here to help you recover from your injuries."
Somehow, he felt she did not refer only to his physical injuries, but he chased the feeling away and didn't answer her. She waited a beat, then said, "Would you let me see your injury?"
He rubbed his hand over the still-painful wound. "If I say no?"
"Then I will start the preparations for dinner early."
"No argument?"
"It's not my job to argue with you. I will take care of you, but I can only do that as far as you'll let me. The rest of it is up to you."
He looked down at the coffee table in front of him, then he looked at Adele and nodded. She knelt beside his chair, which made him uncomfortable, and helped him off with his shirt, which made him more uncomfortable. The knife wound was red and angry and in that stage of healing that itched like crazy. He no longer kept it bandaged because the surface injury, the tip of the iceberg, was healing well. Adele's hands were cool and smooth, and he closed his eyes as she examined his side.
But Adele saw more than just his current injury. She read the story of the difficult life of an abused child, the dangerous life of a civil protector. Her fingers strayed from wound to scar and on to another scar. He opened his eyes to find tears in the corners of hers. Then she swallowed, collected herself and chased away those tears. They were not for him to see.
"How is your pain?" she asked.
He almost believed the tears had been his imagination. "It's, uh, manageable."
His hand strayed to the wound and she chased it away, much as Alex did. "Don't scratch," she chided. "You'll end up with an infection."
"It itches," he complained with a scowl. He'd had this conversation before.
Adele rose to her feet and retrieved the cream Alex had mentioned. Chasing his hand away from the injury once again, she gently applied the cream. Bobby sighed and closed his eyes again. The old housekeeper had a gentle, loving touch, one that had soothed many scraped knees and cooled many fevered brows. He was almost disappointed when she finished. She had a natural way of simply making it better.
"Now rest," she said. "Do you mind if I go into your bedroom?"
"What for?"
"I just want to make the bed and tidy up a little."
"There's nothing to tidy."
"Then I'll just make the bed."
"My service piece is on the dresser."
"I won't touch it."
He hesitated, studying her as he tried to decide if he trusted her enough to allow her access to his bedroom, his sanctuary. Finally he nodded and watched her bustle off to the bedroom. To her, that's all it was, a bedroom. She had no idea how much of a sanctuary his home was, and the bedroom was the heart of it, his sanctum sanctorum. Beside himself, only Alex had free access there, and he felt uptight knowing that someone else was in his room. He didn't realize it, though, until Adele came out. As he relaxed, he realized how anxious he'd been. Maybe he should just make his own bed.
The pain medicine was beginning to work, and his side felt much better, no longer burning and itching as it healed. He picked up the book he'd been reading on Chinese burial artifacts, and he drifted to sleep after just a few pages. Adele gently took the book from his chest, replaced it on the end table between the chair and the couch and returned to the kitchen to make her preparations for the evening meal.
The apartment was full of dinner smells when Alex came in the door. Bobby looked up from his book and, smiling, set it aside. She approached him, happy to see him after a long day. Leaning down, she gave him a soft kiss. His hands strayed, but she laughed against his mouth and gently pulled away. "What smells so good?"
"Uh, dinner."
"What's for dinner?"
"She won't tell me."
Alex smiled again. "How did your day go?"
He shrugged. "Okay."
"Did you cause much trouble for her?"
"Not much."
She pushed her fingers through his curls and went into the kitchen where Adele was finishing dinner. Adele looked up from her pots on the stove and smiled. "Hello, Alex. How was work?"
"Long. How was Bobby?"
"He was no trouble."
"My Bobby?"
Adele laughed softly. "He tried to challenge me a couple of times, but I have years of experience dealing with people more difficult than he will ever be. And he is a lot like the colonel, except that Colonel Sutter knows when to relinquish his command."
"Difficult people. You mean his mother..." Alex started, and Adele nodded.
"Mrs. Sutter is a very challenging woman, and little Missy isn't a great deal better. Ethan, though, Ethan was always my pride and joy. When he came home from school as a little boy, he would always rush to show me what he'd done in class because he knew his mother wouldn't be interested. When he scraped his knee playing, he always came right to me. He was such a delight."
Remembering Ethan's visit, Alex smiled at the kind, matronly woman. "Ethan is lucky he has you, and he knows it."
"No," Adele corrected gently. "I am lucky to have him. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."
Alex returned to the living room and sat on the couch, as close to the recliner as she could get. "So you're okay with having help now?"
"No, but I don't seem to have a choice."
"Was it so horrible having someone around to make sure you're comfortable?"
"I missed you. I'd rather be at work."
"I know that, but you have to be patient. You have to heal first, and that's gonna take time. If it makes a difference, I feel better with Adele here."
"That's why she's here," he said, his tone grouchy.
Alex leaned forward and kissed him. "Don't be such a grouch," she said, lightly tickling his waist.
He smiled. "I'm glad you're home."
She gave that some thought. Home. She certainly felt at home there. Piece by piece, her wardrobe seemed to be migrating from her place in Queens to his closet and drawers. She wondered if he noticed. Of course he noticed. Bobby noticed everything. He didn't seem bothered by it, though. He seemed to genuinely like having her around, and that surprised her, too. She wondered what it meant because, quite honestly, she didn't know.
Adele announced dinner and they went to the table, where a delicious meal of chicken, green beans and potatoes waited with homemade rolls. Two pills sat waiting beside Bobby's glass. He popped them into his mouth and chased them with his juice. With a smile, Alex squeezed his hand. He raised an eyebrow at her, but she just shook her head and focused on her plate.
After the meal, Adele put away the leftovers, washed the dishes and wiped down the kitchen. She looked into the living room. Alex was going over the details of the case she was working with Bobby and he was lost in her words, his mind churning over the details. So much like the colonel and Ethan he was. She knew who Bobby was, and it broke her heart when she heard of the trials of his childhood. It was hard for her to forgive Mrs. Sutter for what she did to those two boys. The house would have welcomed two more sons, and she would have loved caring for them. Mrs. Sutter robbed the colonel of two sons he would have loved, and she robbed her and James of two more boys to care for. What was worse, she abandoned two children before they were old enough to be on their own. The older boy, she understood, lived in a dark world, but this one, this one was a miracle, and in her heart, he was like her own.
She stepped in to the living room and smiled at the couple on the couch. "I'll be heading home now."
Bobby started to get up, but Alex tugged on his arm to keep him in place. He didn't need to be getting up and down too much until he had healed. "I can take you home," Alex offered as she walked Adele to the door.
"That's not necessary," Adele replied. "James is waiting for me. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Thank you, Adele," Bobby said.
She smiled and said, "Good night."
Once Adele was gone, Bobby turned his attention to Alex. "Thank you for going behind my back and letting the colonel send her over," he said.
"You had a good day then?"
"She's very...nurturing."
Alex smiled; she liked being right. Slowly, she shifted onto her knees and reached out to grasp Bobby's shirt by the hem. She pulled it up over his head and leaned in to examine his injury. Closing his eyes, he tipped his head back as her fingers lightly caressed the outside of the red area surrounding the surgical site. She could tell by his reaction that her touch was soothing and he was at ease. But she knew well how good he was at ignoring his pain, particularly when it might interfere with something he wanted to do. He had a lifetime of training himself to ignore pain.
She moved her attention to the scars on his chest and belly. The ones he had received in the line of duty, he was open and willing to discuss. The others...The others existed under a mantle of mystery, their stories hidden in the mists of the past. He would not discuss them, not even with her. When she pushed, he got mad, so she decided to bide her time until he was ready to tell her the stories. She wasn't sure that day would ever come, that he would ever trust her with the nightmare tales of his childhood. She already didn't like Frances Sutter. The truth of his past would make her hate the woman.
She pulled her focus from his injuries and his past and looked up at his face. He did not realize what she had been doing, or he would have stopped her. The last place he wanted her to go was into his past. His eyes were still closed and he was relaxed. She dragged her nails lightly along the waistband of his sweatpants, delighted by the reaction his body gave her. He lifted his head to look at her as she lowered her mouth to his belly and began to lay soft kisses in a slow, lazy line up toward his head. She detoured a couple of times, and her hands were very busy elsewhere. By the time she reached his mouth, the fires of passion were near a full roar and they came together to feed the flames of ecstasy.
