Daddy’s Law by K.C. Crowne

Chapter 10

Theo

Imade sure to plant a tracker in Ava’s jacket before I dropped her off. It wasn’t something I normally did with my clients. It was more of a Plan C sort of measure. But I could tell with a single look that Ava was going to give me a run for my money. She’d made her thoughts about the situation plainly known.

It was always the reluctant ones, those who thought they didn’t need protection at all, that required that much extra effort on my part to keep out of harm’s way.

“Why are we giving Miss Cruise a ride?” Cory asked when I opened the door for Ava. She swatted my hand away when I tried to help her into her seat, obviously still miffed about our situation. She was all smiles and sunshine to my son, though.

“My car broke down,” she explained with ease. “Your father offered to give me a ride until it’s fixed.”

“Oh, cool.” Cory reached into his backpack to pull out his sketchbook. “Can I show you what I’ve been working on for class?”

“Of course. I’d love to see it.”

I merged into traffic and listened to my son go on and on about the different artists who influenced his work. I only recognized a few names —Picasso, Monet— but the rest I had no reference for. Ava listened intently the entire time, nodding along and piping up every now and then with an intriguing fact or two. They spoke like I wasn’t even there, chatting away in a lively manner about their shared passion.

My chest tightened the longer I listened to Cory. He normally wasn’t this talkative. It made me wonder if I was doing something wrong. How was Ava so good at connecting with him when his own father couldn’t?

“I don’t like Magritte,” Cory admitted, sounding very wise and serious.

Ava laughed. “You don’t? I find his works very entertaining.”

“But they don’t make sense.”

“They’re supposed to be thought-provoking. Witty.”

Cory curled his nose “What’s witty about painting an apple in front of a person’s face?”

“Surrealism’s a fascinating period in art history. I don’t have it in your syllabus, but I can always whip up a presentation if you’re really interested.”

His whole face lit up in the rearview mirror. “Can you go over Dalí?”

“Of course! Did you know he was expelled from the same art school twice?”

“No way.”

“He was quite the troublemaker when he was younger.”

“All the best ones are,” Cory commented.

A small part of me was actually enjoying their conversation. I had no interest in art whatsoever, but my son’s enthusiasm was contagious. It was nice to see how passionate he was, how the subject brought him to life.

I got distracted, however, when I noticed a dark blue sedan following us a few car lengths behind. It had been on the same route as us since we’d departed from Ava’s duplex. I thought nothing of it when I saw the vehicle parked out on the curb. It was a crowded, dingy neighborhood and plenty of people parked on the street instead of paying for underground parking.

I took a right turn. The blue sedan also took a right turn.

Ava and Cory were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn’t notice the detour.

I took another right turn. And so did the sedan.

The alarm bells in my mind weren’t ringing just yet. For all I knew, a local soccer mom was on her way to pick up a coffee before dropping her kids off at school. I had no reason to believe that we were being followed, though my suspicion was starting to grow. The sedan kept a good distance away. They didn’t speed or make any sudden lane changes.

But if we really were being tailed, the driver would do everything to make things seem as normal as possible to throw me off.

I took another right turn. The sedan took a left.

The coast was clear for now.

“Dad?”

My ears perked up. “Yeah, buddy?”

“This isn’t our normal route to school.”

“Took a wrong turn.”

“We’re going to be late.”

“Sorry, buddy.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ava looking at me. I kept my eyes on the road, still on the lookout for other potential threats.

* * *

“See you later, Miss Cruise,” Cory called as he hopped out of the car, massive backpack in toe. “Bye, Dad.” He rushed off, hurrying inside to get to his first class.

Ava frowned when she saw me take my seatbelt off. “Stay in the car,” she demanded.

“That’s not what we agreed.”

“What? Are you just going to sit in the corner of my art studio the whole day? You’ll freak the kids out. And what the hell was that earlier?”

“What was what?”

“I’m a teacher. I can multitask. Don’t think for a second I didn’t notice you driving like a maniac trying to get away from someone.”

“It was a precaution. I thought we were being followed.”

“And were we?”

“No but being complacent is what gets you killed.”

“I seriously doubt someone’s after me, okay? I’m a nobody.”

I bit down on my tongue, irritated. “Don’t say that,” I snapped.

“What?”

“That you’re a nobody. Don’t say that.”

“Oh.” She blinked, picking at her nails again. “Look, I just… I think you might freak the kids out if you’re just… standing there doing your thing. I don’t want my students to be uncomfortable. Can’t you just stay in the car and keep an eye out from here?”

I thought about her request. As much as I hated to admit it, she had a point. I’d be able to keep an eye on the front entrance of the school, so clocking any suspicious comings or goings would be easy. Because schools are required to lock all entrances to the building except the front, no one should be able to get inside from any other door. Besides, I didn’t want children involved if I could help it. Too many complications. Too many heads to keep track of. I could treat it like a stakeout, keeping an eye on the fort from afar.

“Fine,” I said gruffly. “I’ll make it work.”

She exhaled deeply, a small smile spreading across her lips. “Thank you.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her mouth. Her smile was sweet. Relieved. “Give me your phone.”

“Why?” she asked, even though she was already reaching into her pocket to hand it to me.

“So I can enter my number. Call me the second something happens.”

“Will you come bust down my door?” she asked, teasing.

“If I have to.” I entered my number and sent a text to myself so I had her contact information on my own device.

“Please don’t actually bust down my door.”

“You’re right. I might break a hip.”

Her cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink, smile growing wider. “Did you just make a joke? I didn’t think that was possible.”

“I’ve been known to crack a joke from time to time.”

I found myself smiling back ever so slightly, entranced. Why did looking at her make me feel so out of breath? Why was my heart pounding so hard? I didn’t have much time to think about it. The first school bell of the day chimed loudly.

In the blink of an eye, Ava was gone.

I climbed back into the truck and settled into my seat, scanning the area. Experience told me that giving my principal an extra-long leash was ill-advised, but I couldn’t bring myself to say no for some reason.

I studied the school from its parking lot, admiring the clean aesthetic of their wide windows and neatly trimmed gardens. No wonder Cassandra insisted on our son going here. The place was modern, clean, and bright. She said it was one of the highest rated schools in our whole district.

So it struck me as odd that Ava lived where she did. Especially coupled with the fact that her father had money. I didn’t say anything as I swept through her duplex for threats. She’d been in a bad mood to begin with, so I figured it best to hold my tongue.

She didn’t have much, which was surprising considering who her father was. Very little furniture, and what she did have looked to be second-hand and worn out. Instead of a TV in the living room, she had several massive canvases set up on easels, some paintings complete while others were barely started. But that was about it. Not exactly the lap of luxury I’d expect Duncan’s daughter to live in.

Her father, in contrast, surrounded himself with all sorts of displays of wealth. Several cars in his garage. Massive TV screens with loud audio systems attached. Marble floors, pristine white walls, a needless number of unused rooms. While Ava didn’t appear to have much space, she made good use of it. The same could not be said of Mr. Cruise, whose minimalist decor left his home cold and uninviting.

The apple fell really far from the tree.

My phone buzzed with a text from Jesse.

Check in.

All clear.

We had a system for solo contracts when there weren’t enough security personnel to keep tabs on each other. Even security needed security sometimes.

Heard your charge was a handful.

Proving to be.

Good luck.

I sent him a middle finger emoji, one of the only ones I used.