Sometimes it was hard to remember Doug was only sixteen.
“We’re all sleeping at home,” Jack assured him. “One of the deputies checked out our street and said we’re good. Our elevation is a little higher so most of the rainwater is draining down toward the valley straight into town. The creeks and the rivers are already at capacity and waters are still rising, so there might be some people who wake up to wet floors in the morning. We’ve sent out a flooding alert and told people to stay off the streets, but that only goes so far once the workday starts. And I’m sure we have hot chocolate somewhere, unless you already drank it all.”
“Nah, I have to be presented with the right opportunity for hot chocolate,” Doug said. “And this seems like the right opportunity.”
“I’ve got copies of the security cameras from the theater if you want to look at them for us,” Jack said casually. “They’re not the best pictures and the rain distorted things some. We’d like to try and get a clear picture of the shooter to put out to the media.”
“Sure, I can take a look,” Doug said. “I’ll even waive my standard fee since I’m directly involved.”
“I thought your standard fee was a rent-free place to live and a bottomless pantry,” I said, looking back at Doug.
He just grinned and said, “It never hurts to try. Besides, Uncle Ben told me you’re putting all my consulting fees in a savings account so I don’t blow it on video games and robot parts.”
“Mostly because of the robot parts,” I said.
“I don’t know where your fear of robots comes from,” he said. “I bet I could get every electronic thing in your kitchen to communicate with each other and do the work too. How awesome would it be to have breakfast waiting for you when you come down in the mornings?”
“That’s what I got married for,” I said, making Jack snicker. “And with Jack, I don’t have to worry about him short-circuiting and beating me to death with a frying pan.”
“Hey, humans have faulty wiring too,” Doug said.
“Not Jack,” I assured him. “But we’ll talk again if he ever starts acting strange.”
By the time Jack hit the remote for our gate, we were more than ready to be out of the car.
“We should get a dog,” Doug said. “You’ve got all this space and a fenced-in yard. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to come home to?”
“We’ve got you,” Jack said, grinning at Doug in the rearview. “You even run to the door when we walk in and ask for a treat.”
“Very funny,” Doug said dryly.
But I looked at Jack out of the corner of my eye. The seed had been planted, and I knew we’d end up with a dog sooner or later. Jack felt very strongly that kids Doug’s age should have the responsibility of a pet. I’d never had any pets. I couldn’t even keep my plants alive.
Jack pulled under the portico, and we filed out, going in the side door through the mudroom. I hung my rain gear on the rack and said to Doug, “Hand over your sweatshirt and I’ll put it in the washer. I’ve got industrial-strength stuff that’ll take the stains out.”
Doug looked taken aback for a minute, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to keep the sweatshirt, but he pulled it off and handed it to me. And then he ran after Jack to the kitchen.
I went to the second floor where the laundry room was and stripped out of the jumpsuit, treating the stains before dumping it all in the washing machine and turning it on. I decided while I was upstairs to go up one more floor to our bedroom and change into something comfortable. I found soft gray sweats and slippers and then moved to the bathroom to wash my face. If I stayed busy—kept in motion—I wouldn’t think about how close we’d come to losing Doug.
The water was cold as it filled my hands, and I watched, mesmerized by the endless overflow as droplets trickled down the blue veins in my arms. I didn’t look at myself in the mirror. I knew I’d see a wild-eyed reflection there, and I didn’t want to think about the anxiety attack I’d had before we left the scene for fear that it would return.
I’d always longed for family. I’d understood at a young age that the one I’d been born to was abnormal at best and horrifically dysfunctional at worst. I’d watched other children with envy, wondering what it must be like to have parents who actually loved you. I’d always thought there’d been something wrong with me—something that made me unlovable. I hadn’t learned until a few years ago that I’d just been a cover—stolen from the womb of my biological mother—and brought back to make it look like we were an all-American family.
I’d had Jack and friends like Vaughn and Dickey and Eddie growing up, and I guess we’d made our own kind of family. But now that I had some distance to look back, there’d been no need for any of them to make a family with me. They’d had normal parents who loved them and did the things parents were supposed to do—which didn’t include smuggling soldiers into their basement whose bodies had been filled with money and weapons. So it hadn’t been them who’d needed family. It had just been me.
But I’d finally gotten the family I’d always longed for when I married Jack. And over the last couple of years our circle had expanded—Carver, Michelle, Lily, Sheldon, Emmy Lu, Cole, and now Doug. This was family.
Back when Jack had taken those bullets to the chest and his life had hung in the balance, I’d tried to imagine what life might be like without him. Even before we’d been a couple, I hadn’t been able to fathom the idea of life without him in it. That had been the first time I realized what hero life looked like, and what it meant for the people who loved heroes.
It made me realize that the more family you had—the more people you loved—the more fragile the web that tangled it all together. I could see how easy it would be for evil to start cutting at those web strings. Because whether we liked it or not, once we decided to stand for good—for justice—there was no choice but to face the darkness head-on. And protecting what I loved most—my family—was more important than anything else.
I splashed the cold water on my face and dried it briskly with a towel, and then headed back downstairs with a new determination. The best way to keep my family safe was to keep doing what we’d always done. Hunting the bad guys and putting them away forever.
I smelled the hot chocolate before I got to the kitchen, and my stomach rumbled, reminding me we’d never eaten dinner.
“The oven is heating up,” Jack said when I came in. “There were a couple of pizzas in the freezer.”
He handed me a mug of hot chocolate piled high with marshmallows and studied my face carefully. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said.
“You keep saying that, but somehow I don’t think it’s true.”
I gave him a half smile and popped a marshmallow into my mouth. “Let me put it this way,” I said. “I’m better now. I’d like to finish what we can on the board tonight. Juliet Dunnegan’s killer is still out there. There’s not much we can do about what happened tonight until the car is located or until Doug is able to get a visual on the shooter.”