Fortunately, Helen found buns in the freezer as well as an unopened package of hot dogs. If she heated a can of baked beans and peeled some carrots, the meal would be perfectly adequate.
Jacob hadn’t gotten through half of his hot dog and one carrot stick when the doorbell rang. He started wriggling like an eel to slither out of his high chair.
“No way,” she told him, but had to lift him out to go to the front door. Escape artist that he was, she couldn’t leave him alone for a second when he was high enough to take a fall. He’d figure out how to unsnap the belt anytime now, she felt sure.
Hand on the dead bolt, she raised her voice. “Who is it?”
“Detective Renner.”
With the usual mixed feelings he inspired, she unlocked and opened the door. Jacob bounced in her arms. As soon as he saw the detective, he grinned and exclaimed, “Boo!”
Renner laughed. “Boo to you, too.”
Just as well that no two-year-old could grasp the concept of a police officer, or wonder why he kept wanting to talk to mommy.
“We’re finishing lunch,” she said.
“No problem.”
When they got to the kitchen and she lifted Jacob to put him in his high chair, he struggled.
“No!”
The debate was short. He was done with lunch, or just refused to be confined again, she wasn’t sure. She had to find one of those plastic seats that would boost him to table height. He’d be a lot happier. It amazed her that her thoughts could seamlessly shift to ordinary mommy mode under the circumstances.
Helen didn’t let Jacob watch much TV but decided to make an exception. He climbed up onto the sofa, grabbing his blankie, while she pulled up a video.
She turned to see that Renner waited in the doorway to the kitchen, watching. Of course he was; she might be hiding a cache of diamonds in the cushions of the couch along with all the crumbs.
Her shoulder brushed his arm when she hurried into the kitchen. Finding she’d lost her own appetite, she cleared the table, then decided grudgingly that she ought to at least offer him a cup of coffee.
“Instant,” she warned.
“That’s fine.” His mouth quirked. “I’m not picky.”
Dumping a spoonful of grounds in her own mug, she said, “A cappuccino would taste really good right now. Unfortunately, having one regularly is not in my budget.”
“You can dump a lot of money really fast at those coffee drive-throughs,” he agreed. “Although—” He stopped so fast, she almost heard the brakes screeching.
“Although what?” She eyed him suspiciously.
He gave his head a shake. “I was going to say something completely inappropriate. Can we forget about it?”
Inappropriate? What could he have been thinking? Her cheeks felt warm, but she needed to know. Still hovering at the stove, she asked, “If I absolve you in advance, will you tell me?”
“You can afford the calories. That’s what I was thinking.”
Oh, good, nice to know he thought she was too skinny. Stress had a way of doing that to her, and she lived with a steady dose. Even pregnant, she’d had trouble gaining enough weight.
He wouldn’t have been thinking any such thing unless he’d noticed her body in a way that had nothing to do with any crime committed. The recognition he might be attracted to her was only momentary. Yes, he was undeniably sexy. But if all went well, she wouldn’t see him again, because she and Jacob would be as far away as she could manage, as soon as possible.
Emotions flat again, she poured water into the mugs and carried them to the table. Renner declined her offer of milk and sugar, both of which she dumped generously in her mug.
“I should be fat,” she said lightly. “Hot dogs, cheeseburgers, macaroni and cheese. We don’t eat the way I did before I had Jacob.”
The detective laughed. “I’m sure.” He was nice enough not to mention that the foods she’d named also happened to be cheap, not just appealing to a toddler’s taste buds.
Helen stirred her coffee. Procrastination had its appeal, but she wasn’t a fan. “I don’t understand what it is you think I can tell you,” she said.
His expression changed. More accurately, vanished. He had a flat, guarded look that might be normal for a cop on the job.