A flutter in my chest makes me catch my breath. No. I can’t be pulled into that line of thinking. “I love you, Rachel. I do. And I’ll always care about Danny, but I can’t take that kind of chance. I can’t trust him that deeply. I wish I could, but…”
“I get it, Mo. Don’t worry. I still love you. I just wish you’d open up a little. I’d think love would be worth the risk.”
“I’m not so sure. Look, I’ve got to go. I hope the rest of your trip is amazing. Call when you can.”
“Okay. Take care, Mo. Think about what I said.”
“I’ll do that. Bye.”
I slam my head against the headrest. Why does this have to be so hard? Why can’t I just meet a really nice guy—a genuinely nice guy? Why can’t Danny be that guy?
I head into the shelter early. The thing in the back of my mind won’t let me loose. If Dad put cameras around the guest house, who’s to say he hasn’t done the same thing in other places? All those girls at the shelter? That’s a hell of a temptation for a pervert looking for his next fix.
My gut clenches as I go to the break room. I stand on a chair and lift one of the ceiling tiles. Using the flashlight I snagged from my car, I take a look for any out of place equipment. None.
A bit of the tension holding my shoulders tight releases.
Next, the sleeping quarters. Crap. I’m going to need a reason to be in there for very long. I grab a broom from the janitorial closet.
I get lucky and make it all the way into the open bay sleeping area without being seen. My breath whooshes out. No one in sight. Still, best hurry.
Standing on the foot of the bed in the middle of the room, I use the broom handle to jab until the light bulb bursts. Sparks fly, and so do I—out the door and around the corner. I lean against the wall, chest heaving.
I slip further into the building, whistling as though nothing is out of the ordinary. Luckily, most of these ladies have seen me enough that I’m not much of a novelty any more. I pull the same trick in the ladies’ room as I did in the dorm.
Light bulb bash and run.
Once I get checked in for my shift in the childcare center, it doesn’t take long for Cindy to poke her head in the door. “Hey, Danny?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you please change some light bulbs for us?”
“Sure thing.” I put Kelvin down off my lap and hand him the book I was reading to him. “Back in a few minutes, buddy.”
I put out the yellow signs that let the ladies know not to come into the bathroom. I set the four-foot ladder in place and climb up with the fluorescent bulb. Once up there, I check the entire fixture.
Damn it.
Affixed to the upper part of the housing, a small black device points over the tops of the stalls. Almost impossible to see from below. I clench my jaw and take slow breaths through my nose. I yank loose the camera, stuffing it into the tool box balanced on the top of the ladder.
The man has no boundaries.
Protect his ministry my ass.
I move to the next light and remove the second camera installed in the same fashion.
By the time I’m finished in the sleeping bay, I’ve got seven cameras and an ache in the pit of my stomach for what I have to do next. All I can do is pray that Mom doesn’t lose her shit and Rachel doesn’t suffer too much.
I go to Cindy’s office to show her what I’ve found. She’s not here.
“Terri?”
Cindy’s assistant doesn’t even look up from the report she’s working on. “Yes?”
“Is Cindy gone for the day?”
“Until next Wednesday. Her sister’s having a baby; she’s going to Phoenix to help out.”
Shit. “Okay. Thanks.”
Guess I’ll just have to sit on it for a few days. At least the cameras are down.
Sick fucker.
Pushing through the door into the child care center, my gaze drifts around the room. I’m not looking for Danny. Am I?
No. Definitely not.
The hair on the back of my neck prickles. He’s snuck up on me.
Danny leans in and whispers, “Thought you’d never get here.”
I try not to smile. Fail.
He shoves a toddler into my hands. “Here, this one had a blow out. It’s your turn.”
Nice.
“Thanks for saving him for me.” I grimace and make a beeline for the changing station.
I lay Jay Jay on the table. He grabs his tiny feet and pulls them to his chest, grinning like he’s done something amazing.
I smile down on him. “Yes. You did do something amazing…something amazingly stinky.”
The toddler giggles as I pull his shorts down and open the diaper.
The smell. Oh my gosh. I clench my teeth as nausea spills into my gut. I grab the bin at the end of the table and yank the lid off. With one hand on Jay Jay’s tummy to keep him in place, I double over the trashcan, and my lunch dumps into the black bag.