Desperately Seeking Dad

by Marta Perry

  “Tina.” He gave a frustrated shake of his head. “What’s to remember? I barely knew her. She was a nice kid who poured my morning coffee, that’s it. I can’t figure why she’d lie about something like this.”

  “I’d hate to believe you’re never going to know the reason.”

  He could see Alex’s mind ticking over possibilities. Even back in high school, Alex had always been the one with the analytical approach to everything. Where Brett had relied on charm and Mitch on strength, Alex had been the thinker of the team.

  “The roommate’s the best bet, I suppose,” Alex said. “If anyone knows who the girl dated, she would.”

  Mitch frowned, watching Anne settle Emilie in the high chair. “It just keeps eating at me. Why me? Why did she give my name?”

  Alex was silent for a long moment, so long that Mitch turned to look at him. He encountered a searching gaze. “Have you thought about Link?”

  Mitch’s stomach twisted at the name. Link. His brother. “Yes.” He bit off the word. “Of course I have. I know what you’re thinking. Using my name would be just the sort of sick joke he’d find funny. But you’re forgetting, the girl knew me. Besides, he wasn’t in Bedford Creek then.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.” Link had a tendency to show up on Mitch’s doorstep whenever he was broke or in trouble. “We had a fight the last time he was here, that previous spring. A bad one. I told him I was done bailing him out. He hasn’t been back since.” He managed a half smile. “I’d like to believe that means he’s gotten his act together, but I doubt it.”

  “People change.”

  “Not Link.” Not our father.

  Alex shrugged. “I’ll take your word for it. Look, they’re starting to get the food ready. You need my help with something before I round up my son for dinner?”

  “Just keep an eye on Anne. I want to see Simon alone before she has a chance to collar him. But I don’t want her getting the third degree from any of our local busybodies.”

  “And you expect me to prevent that?” Alex lifted an eyebrow. “You’re underestimating them.”

  “But I’m not overestimating you.” Mitch grinned. “You know they’re intimidated by the Caine name. And you can flatten anybody with that superior look of yours. Just use it.”

  Simon Richie charged into the hall then, filled with an energy that never ceased to amaze Mitch. Simon had to be close to sixty, but nothing slowed him down when it came to taking care of his flock. If either Tina or her roommate had left an address, Simon would find it.

  “I’m going to try and catch him after he says the blessing,” Mitch said. “Remember, keep your eye on Anne.”

  Alex sketched him a mock salute. “Will do.”

  He bowed his head and tried to concentrate on the words of the prayer. Simon had an informal way of addressing God that made Him sound like a personal friend Simon was inviting to share their meal. It always made him vaguely uncomfortable. Mitch believed, of course. But Simon seemed to have found a closeness that had always eluded Mitch.

  The prayer over, a wave of people swept toward the long serving table. Anne still stood at her chair, eyes closed in prayer for another moment. The sight seemed to clutch his heart. What prayer kept her so still, so focused?

  Anne gripped the plate Kate had given her and edged closer to the serving table. Kate had insisted on watching Emilie so she could go first, since Mitch seemed to have disappeared. She’d noticed him talking to a man Kate said was Alex Caine, owner of Bedford Creek’s only industry. The next time she looked, he was gone.

  Not that she cared. The memory of that moment in Kate’s front hall made her uncomfortable. She hadn’t come to this dinner to be with Mitch.

  “I don’t think we’ve met.” The woman in front of her smiled a welcome. “Let me introduce you to some of these hungry people.”

  By the time she’d reached the end of the buffet table, half-a-dozen names buzzed in her mind and way too much food had found its way onto her plate. She’d begun to feel that all she’d done since arriving in Bedford Creek was eat.

  “I’m finished.” She deposited her plate across from Kate, next to the high chair Mitch had put at the end of the table. “You go on now, Kate.”

  Kate rose and looked around the crowded room with a frown. “I don’t know where Mitch is. He’d better get back here before the food’s gone.”

  “I don’t think there’s any danger of that.” And she’d probably have a more placid meal if he weren’t sitting next to her, drawing her awareness with every breath.

  She’d just given Emilie a biscuit to chew on when she became conscious of someone standing across from her. She looked up to meet an intent stare.

  The older woman’s narrow face formed a brief smile. “You’ll be Kate’s new guest.”

  Anne nodded. “Anne Morden. This is Emilie.”

  “I’m Enid Lawrence.” The woman’s gaze swerved, sharply curious, to the baby and back again. “Tell me, what brings you to Bedford Creek?”

  Anne should have been better prepared for a direct question, she thought. As she groped for an answer, someone intervened.

  “Excuse me, Enid.” It was the man she’d seen Mitch talking with earlier. “I think your daughter is trying to get your attention.” He diverted the woman smoothly away from the table, taking the chair she’d been blocking. “I’ll keep Anne company until Kate gets back.”

  Enid Lawrence frowned. For a moment Anne thought she’d argue, but then she nodded, giving Anne a frosted look. “We’ll talk later.” It almost sounded like a threat.

  She moved away, and Anne assessed Mitch’s friend, Alex Caine. He was tall, nearly as tall as Mitch, but not as broadly built. His lean, aristocratic face was handsome, but marred by a scar that ran along one cheek. He had the inward look Anne had seen before in people who lived with pain.

  “Alex Caine.” He held out his hand. “Sorry if I interrupted, but Enid can be overwhelming at times. ‘Curiosity’ is her middle name.”

  She lifted her eyebrows. “Did Mitch suggest I needed protecting?”

  She caught a flash of surprise mixed with amusement in his dark eyes. “You caught us, I’m afraid. Mitch thought you might prefer not to explain why you’re here too many times tonight.”

  Now it was her turn to be surprised. “Mitch told you?” She’d have expected him to guard that information more carefully.

  “Mitch and I go back a long way. He doesn’t keep many secrets from me. Or from Brett.”

  “I see.”

  He frowned. “I’m not sure you do. I know Mitch as well as I know anyone. He tells me he didn’t—” He stopped, probably reminded of the number of people in the room. “Let’s just say I’d trust him with my life.” Some emotion she couldn’t identify flickered in his eyes. “In fact, I already have.”

  A dozen questions bubbled to her tongue, but she didn’t have a chance to ask any of them. Kate came back, and in the flurry as she settled, Alex excused himself. The next instant, someone slid into the chair next to her. She didn’t need to look to know it was Mitch. That aura of solid strength touched her senses.

  He brushed her sleeve. She looked, startled, to find he was handing her a slip of paper.

  “What’s this?” She started to unfold it, but his hand closed over hers.

  “It’s that information you wanted—”

  His fingers tightened a little, and her skin seemed to tingle from their pressure.

  “—the latest address and phone number Pastor Richie could find. I had him jot it down for you.”

  She looked at the address, somewhere in Florida, written in an unfamiliar hand on church stationery. She folded the paper and slipped it in her bag.

  “I didn’t expect you to do that. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.” A smile tugged at his mouth. “No ulterior motives, I promise you. I just thought it would cause less comment if I asked. I hope you find her.”

  Perhaps he didn’t expect her to beli
eve that, but it sounded genuine. He’d given the information to her, rather than following up on it himself. Almost as if they could trust each other.

  Careful, her lawyer’s mind cautioned. Look at all the evidence, then make a decision.

  She’d like, just this once, to rely on her instinct, the instinct that said he was telling the truth. That he could be trusted.

  Unfortunately she couldn’t. Not with Emilie’s future at stake.

  Anne rolled the stroller through the police station doorway, the memory of the last time she’d done that flickering through her mind. Only a few days ago, but it seemed like a lifetime. Odd, that she’d begun to feel at home in Bedford Creek so quickly, almost as if it had been waiting for her.

  “Ms. Morden!” Wanda exclaimed. “Look who’s here, Chief.”

  Mitch stood in the doorway to his office, ushering someone inside. He swung around at Wanda’s words. Anne wasn’t mistaking the warmth in his eyes at the sight of her, was she?

  “Anne. I hoped I’d see you today.” He sent a glance toward his office. “Trouble is, I have someone here right now. Can you wait?”

  Aware of Wanda’s sharp eyes dissecting every gesture, Anne nodded. “Actually, I have a couple of errands to run. Why don’t I come back in, say, half an hour.”

  “Sounds good.” He reached past her to hold the door for the stroller, and his hand brushed her shoulder. “I’ll see you then.”

  She pushed the stroller up the sidewalk, still feeling that casual touch. When the number Pastor Richie had passed on proved no longer valid, directory assistance and even the pastor had been unable to help her further. She had no choice but to ask Mitch for his help in tracking down Marcy Brown. But now she wondered if she’d made the right decision in bringing this to him. Everything Mitch had done was consistent with his being an honorable man who was telling her the truth. But could she rely on him to trace Tina’s roommate?

  The street staggered its way up the hill, and by the time she reached the pharmacy she was winded. She purchased shampoo and a teething ring, then glanced at her watch as she went out the door. Another fifteen minutes before Mitch expected her.

  Someone had placed a bright yellow bench outside the pharmacy, probably for the convenience of all those tourists everyone assured her showed up in the summer. She sat down, positioning the stroller so the baby was out of the wind. The weak sunshine touched her cheeks, a promise of summer to come. A fat robin, back from his trip south, perched on the edge of a sidewalk planter and cocked his head.

  A shadow fell across her. “Ms. Morden.”

  She looked up at the woman who’d introduced herself at the church supper the night before—the woman Alex had seemed determined to help her avoid. Her mind scrambled briefly, then came up with a name.

  “Mrs. Lawrence. It’s nice to see you again.” Or was it? Alex had steered the woman off, implying she was a gossip, and that avid look in her eyes seemed to confirm it.

  “I hoped I’d run into you.” The woman perched on the bench next to her, tucking her brown wool coat around her legs. “We didn’t have a chance to get acquainted last night. I’m Enid.”

  “I met so many people last night. Your congregation is so friendly to a stranger. It made me feel at home.”

  “You’re from Philadelphia.” The woman made it a statement, as if docketing facts. “Kate told me that. But she didn’t say why you’re here.”

  Anne edged an inch farther from that blatant curiosity. “Didn’t she?”

  Enid Lawrence shook her head with an affronted look, as if she had a right to every morsel of knowledge she could collect. “She didn’t. It’s not to see Chief Donovan, I hope?”

  Anne weighed the probable results of outright rudeness in deterring the woman and decided even that wouldn’t work. “Not exactly,” she evaded. “Bedford Creek is so charming. I understand you have quite a lot of visitors.”

  “Tourists.” She sniffed. “But I’m glad you’re not here to see that Mitch Donovan.”

  The venom in the woman’s voice startled her. Everyone she’d met thus far seemed devoted to Mitch. Enid Lawrence seemed to be the exception.

  Enid apparently took silence for interest. “He’s not really one of us, you know.”

  “One of us?” She’d certainly had the impression Mitch had grown up in Bedford Creek. What was the woman driving at?

  “He’s a Donovan.” Enid sniffed again. “Everyone in town knows what the Donovans are like. Worthless, the lot of them. The father would steal anything that wasn’t nailed down, and those boys were just as bad. Carousing, getting into one scrape after another. Troublemakers, both of them. As for the mother and her drinking…”

  The venom had spilled out so quickly that Anne hadn’t had time to react. Suddenly revulsion ripped through her with an almost physical shudder. She got up quickly. “I’m afraid I have to go.”

  Enid frowned. “I’m just telling you because you’re a newcomer. I wouldn’t want you to be taken in.”

  “I don’t care to discuss Chief Donovan with you.” Her anger surprised her. Shouldn’t she be taking the opportunity to find out anything she could about Mitch? Instead, she felt the need to defend him.

  The woman rose, bringing her eyes to a level with Anne’s. “Fine, if that’s all the thanks I get for taking an interest. Mitch Donovan wouldn’t even be here if Alex Caine didn’t owe him something.”

  Anne managed to get the stroller out from beside the bench, her hands shaking a little. “Excuse me, please.”

  She swung the stroller around and set off downhill, heels clicking in her rush to get away from the woman. No wonder Alex Caine had intervened last night. The woman was absolutely poisonous.

  Her words trickled through Anne’s mind. Mitch was not trustworthy—that was the gist of it. The woman was convinced Mitch was no good, apparently because of his father’s reputation.

  Unfair, her instincts shouted. That was unfair. The woman had no right blackening Mitch’s reputation because of what his father had done.

  But she’d also talked about trouble Mitch and his brother had gotten into, had implied that made him not trustworthy. Trusting him was what she was about to do. And it was something she didn’t do easily.

  Her impetuous charge down the hill had already brought her to the police station. If she saw Mitch while Enid Lawrence’s bitter words echoed in her ears… Fair or not, she just couldn’t do it. She’d have to go back to the house and think this over.

  “Anne.” Mitch opened the door and held it for her. “I’ve been watching for you. Come in.”

  She could feel herself flushing. “It was nothing important. I don’t need to bother you now.”

  His brown eyes seemed to frost over. He stepped onto the walk and closed the door. “Don’t you mean you’ve just had an interesting discussion with Enid Lawrence?”

  She felt as guilty as if she’d sought out the woman. “How did you know she was talking to me?”

  He jerked his head toward the bench outside the pharmacy. “I was watching for you to come back. I saw your little chat.”

  “I certainly didn’t instigate it.”

  “You didn’t avoid it, either.” His jaw looked tight.

  Her faint feelings of guilt changed to anger. “I walked away from her, in case you didn’t notice. I’m not interested in gossip, even if—”

  “Even if it supports the things you’d like to believe about me?”

  His expression froze as a passerby eyed them. She seized a chance to gain control.

  “I didn’t go looking for the woman.” She lowered her voice. “I’m not soliciting gossip about you, if that’s what you think.”

  That probably was exactly how it looked, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.

  Or maybe there was.

  The words pressed on her lips, wanted to be said. She could take the woman seriously or not. If she didn’t, there was an easy way to prove it, by asking for his help.

  She took a deep breat
h. “Now can we forget Enid Lawrence?” She wasn’t sure she could, but she wanted to try. “I need your help. I want you to help me find Marcy Brown.”

  A few minutes later they walked back toward the house together, in tacit agreement that the subject was better discussed away from the station.

  Anne looked carefully at her feelings. Could she forget Enid’s poisoned words?

  “Worried about it?”

  She glanced up at Mitch, startled and guilty, then realized he was talking about the roommate, not about what Enid had said.

  “No, not worried, exactly.” She could hardly tell him she was trying to sort out her opinion of him. “Concerned about the time element, I suppose. How will you try to find Marcy?”

  “Plenty of ways to track people down.” He frowned. “The trouble is, this isn’t a police case. It limits what I can do.”

  That hadn’t occurred to her. “What can you do?” She hoped her question didn’t sound as sharp to him as it did to her. If he couldn’t or wouldn’t use police resources, what good had it done to ask him?

  “Believe me, if people knew how easy it is to get information on them, they’d be shocked. I can follow up on her social security number and credit reports, for a start.”

  “That should lead somewhere, surely. It’s not as if the woman is trying to hide from us. She doesn’t know we’re looking for her.”

  “We’ll find her.” He slowed while she eased the stroller over a bump in the walk. “I just hope she knows something useful.”

  “Girlfriends do talk to each other.”

  He nodded. “That’s about what Alex said. He thinks Tina had to have confided in someone, and who better than her roommate.”

  “I hope we’re both right.” She stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets. “He surprised me last night. When I realized you’d told him, I mean.”

  “We don’t keep many secrets from each other.”

  It was much the same thing Alex had said. “He told me he’d trusted you with his life.” She hadn’t intended to say that, and knew it sounded like prying.