Chapter 14
Hank lived on the third floor of a very modest apartment complex. Given his size and health, they could have been on the upper floor in a matter of minutes, but he went to the basement first to check on the washing machines and furnace, then door by door to make sure everyone was okay.
It didn’t take a few minutes. It took an hour, which actually was okay by Cecilia. It allowed her to watch him interact with the tenants. He was unfailingly kind, accepted grouchy comments and complaints with aplomb, and even hugged a few babies while he was at it. Every few doors, he’d ask Cecilia if she minded if he took another few minutes for him to check on Mrs. So-and-So or Mr. This-and-That. He’d tell her something quick about each one, introduce her, then get pulled into a discussion about whatever was going on in their lives. He always reminded them not to drink the water as he added their to-do tasks to his phone, and then on to the next door.
More than one female tenant gave her a thumbs-up behind Hank’s back and whispered, “He’s a good ’un.”
Yeah, she was beginning to see that.
By the time she made it up to his apartment, she’d forgotten she had a Taser in her lab coat pocket. And wasn’t it weird that not a single person commented on the blood splatter?
“So, you’re popular,” she drawled as he finally opened his door. It wasn’t even locked, and that startled her even more.
“I’m the building superintendent. A good one is always popular.”
She cried bullshit on that. He cared about the people in the building and made sure they were okay. That wasn’t just being good at his job, that was being a good person. She might have made a comment, but she was too busy being stunned by his apartment.
First and foremost, there was a mile-high stack of water bottle cases by the door. He grimaced as he looked at it then sighed.
“I told them to just come up to my apartment to get these. I left the door unlocked for them. But some of them can’t climb or carry so well and others…” He shook his head. “Well, they’re just lazy.”
“Because they know you’ll cart it down for them?”
He shrugged as he hefted three cases. “I’ll just be—”
“A minute. Yeah, I know.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to lie. I meant to come right up here, but then I thought I better check on—”
She waved him into silence. “Take your time. I’ll just work on my phone.” And she would have. Except, of course, looking around his apartment was much more interesting.
She didn’t know what she expected. Something like her own messy two-bedroom apartment back in Atlanta. Dishes in the sink, half-dead plant, papers and books everywhere, not to mention an embarrassing laundry pile. Even her hotel room looked like that, minus the plant. She had not expected to step into a Japanese Zen garden.
The furniture—what there was of it—was minimal. A bed, a small table with four chairs, and large cushions for people to sit on while drinking tea. There were books in a low bookcase, a high-end tablet, and plants. Lots of little plants in tiny planters next to a zillion rock gardens with tiny Zen rakes for the sand. And, by the way, all of the sand had pristine patterns around the rocks and miniature toys. She saw army soldiers near a Hello Kitty who drank tea with a troll.
She tried to picture it. Big man with a scar using his huge hands to pull a tiny rake through the sand around a Hello Kitty doll. It didn’t fit. Well, it didn’t fit until she added one of the kids from downstairs. Little Kaylee who had pigtails and a dress with juice stains on it. Put her next to Hank and Cecilia could absolutely see it. And she would bet her next paycheck that the toy soldier came from one the little boys she’d met on the second floor. The elderly woman on the first floor had asked about the air plant she’d given Hank for Christmas, and he had responded that it held a place of honor. She looked around. Ah, right over there at the window. It had to be one of a dozen tillandsias basking in the sunlight in a coiled wire hanger.
Wow. Talk about not judging a book by its cover. Hank defied any stereotype she could imagine. Which didn’t surprise her at all. Nothing he’d done in the last twelve hours was even remotely predictable, though he’d always been quiet and steady, even in the most heated times. Kind of like he had the peace of a Zen master or what she imagined a Zen master would be. She’d never met one. But given the number of books about Buddhism and meditation on his shelf, she’d bet he had. They filled the bookshelf along with medical textbooks.
And way back in the corner, half covered by a well-tended fern, were two pictures. One of him in his unit. He was grinning and mock choking the guy next to him. And another of what had to be his family. Mom, dad, the older brother he’d mentioned, and an older sister with pigtails of her own and a very serious expression.
“That’s was taken a year before my brother died.” His voice was quiet, but she didn’t even jump. He filled her thoughts so much, of course he would be standing behind her when the questions started piling up. And he would start with the biggest one in her mind. She’d wondered when the photo had been taken and where his family was now.
“Your brother seems so happy here.” She turned to look in his eyes. He stood so close, crowding her against the bookcase, but not in a scary way. His eyes were serious, his expression sad, but she didn’t feel any tension off him. Just answers. And a need to touch her as he stroked her arm.
“He was always moody. Happy-go-lucky one moment, then steeped in dark thoughts the next. It got worse when adolescence hit. Plus, shifters get antsy. There’s a kids’ camp in Gladwin for just this kind of thing. It’s run by the grizzlies, but all shifters are welcome.”
“He didn’t go?”
“He did. But then a few months later, he went to hang out with the Griz. Got into a pissing match with the leader at the time. A big asshole named Nanook.”
Her brows arched. “Like Nanook of the North? From that old documentary?”
He shrugged. “Guess so. The bastard was powerful and touchy as hell. Roy never came home.”
“I’m sorry.” She touched his chest and his muscles rippled beneath her fingertips. “Were you close?”
“We were brothers.”
