by Brenda Novak
“Damn right! We all do. You get your ass down to the office right away, or there’s no more partnership! Roger’s in trouble. The police have arrested him, and now they’re investigating the rest of us.”
“What?” Adam shook his head. Somehow he’d known it would come to this.
“You heard me! I don’t know exactly what’s going on—the bastards won’t tell me anything. But from what I can figure, someone tipped them off that Roger manipulated Whitehead’s records, and now we’re all under suspicion. Especially you, since you had the case before Roger.”
“I tried to warn you, Mike. Roger was too ambitious for his own good.”
“I thought you were just being uptight. I never dreamed—”
“What? You’re the one who coached him, Mike.”
“I only told him to win. And I’ve told you the same thing often enough. Regardless, we all need to be here to put on a united front.”
“I can’t be there. Give the police a key to my office and let them dig through whatever they want. I don’t have anything to hide.”
“I’m depending on you, Adam. It’s time to defend yourself and the firm and—”
“And Roger? Sorry, Mike. He’s a big boy. He knew what he was doing.”
“I don’t care what you think of Roger,” Mike barked, “he’s one of us. You have to come in.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then it’s over. I’ll dissolve the partnership. You know I can. It’s in the agreement.”
Adam closed his eyes. His career. Fifteen years of blood, sweat and tears. He had to go back and defend his little empire.
But he couldn’t abandon Jenna again, not now, not ever.
“Then I’ll be in to pick up my things when I can,” he said. Feeling a door close somewhere in his heart, he hung up.
“What did Todd say?” Dressed in the clothes she’d worn the day before, Jenna stood in the doorway, looking drawn and pale and more fragile than Adam had ever seen her.
“I haven’t been able to get hold of him yet. Grab my keys and get in the car. I’ll be right there.” She hesitated and Adam wanted to take her in his arms and croon softly in her hair that everything would be all right. He wanted her to nod and look up at him with trust shining in her eyes. But she didn’t believe in him. She’d said as much, and her lack of faith kept them as separate and alone as though an ocean stood between them.
“I can’t expect you to…” Her words dwindled away and she tried again. “I mean, he’s my son. I know you probably have to work today. I’m too frightened to take the time to get a rental, so if maybe you could rent a car and let me use yours…I’ll pay all the charges, of course…”
How could she be so formal after everything they had shared last night? “I’m going with you,” he said in a voice that brooked no argument. “Get in the car.”
This time she obeyed without question, and Adam paused only long enough to call the Fort Bragg police department. Gram had already reported the kidnapping, but Adam wanted to make sure Todd knew what had happened to Ryan in hopes he’d take a personal interest.
Todd was out on patrol, but Adam asked the dispatcher to give him the message. Then he grabbed his day planner, which contained his money and credit cards, and dashed out to the garage.
Jenna was waiting for him in the car, staring straight ahead with her hands knotted in her lap. Adam got in and covered her hands with one of his own, noting the coldness of her fingers. “You okay?”
She nodded, but Adam guessed she was seeing all sorts of unpleasant things in her head—things he cringed to even think about. He started the car and backed out into the street.
Mendocino was usually a three-hour drive, but he had no intention of letting it take that long.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
RYAN SAT IN THE PASSENGER SEAT of his father’s old car and felt Dennis staring at him as he ate a Happy Meal. They were parked outside a McDonald’s, in some town Ryan didn’t recognize.
“What surprise did you get?” his father asked.
Ryan hadn’t even checked. He was eight, almost nine, and much too old for such small toys. He couldn’t summon much joy over it, not when more than anything he wanted to be home with his mother. To avoid making his father mad, however, he dug through the wrapping his hamburger had come in and pulled out a small metal car. When he held it up, Dennis whistled.
“That’s nice. McDonald’s beats the hell out of school lunch, huh?”
Ryan’s stomach twisted with longing at the thought of school, but he nodded because he didn’t dare disagree.
“You okay here for a minute?” his father asked.
He looked around at the other parked cars and the drugstore across the lot. People came and went, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention. “Sure.”
“Good. Shouldn’t be too long.”
The door squealed as his father climbed out. Then Dennis ducked down to talk through the crack in the window. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said. “I don’t want to have to punish you on our first day together.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise?”
Ryan nodded, then turned to watch his father walk toward the glass-fronted McDonald’s. He went back to eating and quickly finished his lunch, but a long time passed without any sign of Dennis.
Growing more and more frightened, Ryan unbuckled his seat belt and got up on his knees to gaze through the dirty back window. Where had his father gone? He’d spent the morning telling Ryan how they were going to live together now and what great care he was going to take of his boy, but it wouldn’t be unlike him to change his mind and simply disappear.
There was a light dusting of snow on the ground outside. Ryan had on a coat, but cold air seeped into the car and numbed his hands and feet. He waited for Dennis a little longer, then got out to check for his father inside McDonald’s.
Raising a hand to shade the glass, he peered into the brightly colored room. He was afraid Dennis would catch him out of the car, but he was equally afraid of being abandoned.
It was crowded inside, so it took a few minutes to decide his father wasn’t there. Biting the skin around his nails, Ryan checked the parking lot behind him and began to circle the building.
Dennis’s voice, coming from around the corner, froze Ryan’s tennis shoes to the concrete. Peeking around the beige-painted brick, he saw his father standing with his back to him, clutching a paper cup that he held out to the people who entered and left the restaurant.
As Ryan watched, Dennis approached a man and a woman. The man took some money from his pocket and stuffed it into the cup. Dennis thanked him, and the couple ambled away.
Didn’t his father have any money of his own?
Remembering Dennis’s search through the car for the coins he’d used to buy the Happy Meal, Ryan decided he must not. That would explain why his father had said he wasn’t hungry and why they weren’t driving anymore.
Blowing on his hands to warm them, Ryan turned around and headed back to the car. His father would give him a beating like the kind he’d seen his mother take if he got caught disobeying. But before he wedged his door open to climb back onto the cracked vinyl seat, he glanced at the drugstore, and a longing so sharp it stung rose up inside him. He wanted his mom. He wanted to be home where it was warm and where he knew he was safe.
Fighting the tears that threatened to make him sob like a girl, he studied the pay phone glinting in the sun in front of the store. It was clear across the parking lot, but if he ran…
Could he call for help? Would his mother be able to find him? He shoved his hands all the way to the bottom of his pockets. A pay phone cost thirty-five cents. His mother had taught him how to use one at the mall once, but he had no money.
Climbing into the car, Ryan dug through the wadded clothes, empty bottles and fast-food wrappers that flooded the back seat, looking for change. If he could only find a quarter and a dime…Evidently all the quarters had been spent on the Happy Meal,
but he did manage to find three nickels and two dimes. He knew the coins added up to the right amount of money—they’d done math problems like this one in school—but he wasn’t sure nickels would work in a pay phone. His mother had used a quarter.
Leaving the car door slightly ajar because he couldn’t bear to hear it slam, Ryan checked to make sure Dennis was still standing on the other side of the restaurant, then began weaving his way through the parking lot. His mother had always told him not to run where cars were moving, but he was too frightened to go slow. His brisk walk turned into a trot and then a full run as he neared his goal.
“Be careful, kid,” someone called from a truck as he darted across its path.
Ryan didn’t even look up. The sidewalk shimmered before him, and he leaped to safety, grabbed the handheld part of the telephone and dropped in his money. He dialed the Victoriana’s number and waited, hoping he’d dialed it right and his father wouldn’t catch him before someone answered.
“Mom…Mom…Mom…” he begged under his breath, but heard no ringing, nothing. Just then an old lady got up from a bench in front of the store and with the help of a cane tottered toward him.
“That silly phone doesn’t work, dear,” she said. “It just took my money. I told them inside. It’s good to report things like that, you know. Otherwise, it doesn’t get fixed. You might want to do the same.”
“No need. He’s just playing around, anyway.”
Ryan whirled at the sound of his father’s voice and saw Dennis coming toward him. Gripping the side of the phone pedestal as his stomach dropped to his knees, he wondered if he was going to throw up the hamburger that churned in his stomach.
Dennis gave the old lady a polite smile, then turned to him. “Ready to go, son?”
Ryan glanced at the woman. He wished he had the courage to run to her and beg for help, but she looked so old and frail. He knew she was no match for his father. “Yeah…um…I’m sorry. You were gone so long I thought you weren’t coming back.”
Dennis raised his hand and Ryan flinched. Instead of striking him, however, his father took him by the neck and started guiding him back to the car. “I’m sorry,” Ryan told him again, and sent another pleading glance at the old lady.
She stood and peered after them. “Wait a minute,” she called. “Who are you? Does that boy belong to you?”
Dennis ignored her and increased their pace until they were nearly running. “Now look what you’ve done,” he hissed. “I told you to wait in the car.”
Too breathless to speak, Ryan nodded.
“And you promised you’d obey.”
The old lady was yelling at them, but Ryan could no longer turn around to see her.
“I expected better from you, Ryan,” Dennis snapped. “I can see your mother hasn’t taught you anything, but discipline’s a father’s job, anyway. It’s a good thing we’re together now. I’ll get you shaped up in a heartbeat.”
“I’ll be good,” Ryan promised, willing his wobbly knees to support him as his father dragged him along. He wanted to yell for help, but fear clogged his throat. He’d really done it this time. His dad would beat him for sure. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”
“Then why did you leave the car? You’ll have to face the consequences, you know.”
Ryan blinked rapidly as he searched for an excuse his father might accept, something to diffuse his anger. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that Mom’s pregnant and she’s been sick, and I wanted to call and check on her, that’s all.”
It worked. As soon as the words were out, his father froze. But his eyes took on a dangerous glittery look, and the hand clamped on Ryan’s neck eased.
Ryan could no longer hear the old lady. Had she gone for help or had she given up? He jerked, breaking his father’s hold, but before he could run, Dennis grabbed him again, this time by the arm. “Whose baby is it?”
Wishing the old lady would hurry if she was bringing help, he said, “It’s Mom’s—”
“Who’s the daddy?” His father’s nails bit so painfully into his arm that Ryan couldn’t hold back the tears.
“She said you’re the daddy!” he cried.
Dennis finally loosened his grip but didn’t let go.
“No kidding!” Suddenly he laughed and dragged Ryan the rest of the way to the car. “Well, that’s all the more reason for us to be a family again, don’t you think, son?”
Then he shoved Ryan in and shut the door.
JENNA SAT ALONE in the Durhams’ office, battling the panic that had threatened to immobilize her since she’d heard about Ryan’s disappearance. She and Adam had arrived at the Victoriana in record time. But she’d spent the first hour at the police station, providing a more recent picture of Ryan than the one Gram had taken from her room, filling out forms, answering questions about the color and make of Dennis’s car.
Now it was nearly one o’clock. Ryan had been missing for almost five hours, which seemed a lifetime to Jenna, an eternity for her child to be at risk. Trying to ignore the ominous ticking of the clock on the desk, she focused on the names and telephone numbers in the tattered address book she’d retrieved from a box at the bottom of her closet. This book, with its dog-eared pages, belonged to the years she’d been married. Jenna had thought she’d never need it again. If not for Ryan’s blood connection to Dennis’s relatives, she would have thrown it away.
Thank God she hadn’t. Dennis could be anywhere, and contacting his friends and family, anyone who might hear from him, was her only chance of getting her son back quickly.
Because Dennis had mentioned his cousin Joe, Jenna had tried him first. But something about the earnestness in Joe’s voice led Jenna to believe him when he said he hadn’t heard from Dennis since Wednesday, the day they’d talked about getting him on at the mill.
Reaching for the telephone, Jenna took a steadying breath and dialed Kim and Meredith Livingston, Dennis’s parents. It had been three years since she’d spoken to either of them. They’d moved from Mendocino more than ten years ago and, last she knew, lived a peaceful, quiet life in a mobile home on the outskirts of Elko, Nevada. Jenna hadn’t really kept in touch. They’d never wanted to be bothered by Dennis or his little family. Especially after the problems started.
At one point, when she and Dennis were going for counseling, Dennis had admitted that his father had been an alcoholic and had sometimes beaten up on him and his mother. But this news had come as a complete surprise to Jenna. When they were kids, Kim had seemed strict but not violent, although Mr. Durham had once mentioned that he’d had his suspicions.
From all the evidence, Kim Livingston had kicked his habit and learned how to control his anger, but now Meredith would tolerate no more pain resulting from alcohol. If she didn’t hear from Dennis, it was easier to believe her son was well and happy. She had her daughters and several grandchildren living close by and seemed to dote on them. There was a time Jenna had resented the Livingstons’ treating her and their youngest son so differently, never reaching out to Ryan. But in the end, she’d given up trying to build a relationship between them.
“Hello?” The quaver in Meredith Livingston’s voice made her sound much older than Jenna remembered.
“Meredith? This is Jenna.”
There was a long awkward pause.
“Dennis’s ex-wife.”
“I know who you are. What do you want, Jenna?”
“It’s about Dennis—”
“Whatever he’s done, I don’t want to know about it.”
In the background Jenna heard Kim Livingston ask who was on the phone, then a low hum in her ear as Meredith covered the mouthpiece to respond.
“I wouldn’t have bothered you without good reason, Meredith,” Jenna continued. “Dennis has taken Ryan—”
“He called ’bout a month ago. Said you wouldn’t let him see his kid. Maybe if you’d treated him fair in the divorce, he wouldn’t have had to resort to doing something like that.”
“Fair, M
eredith? Dennis is abusive. I had to do what I could to protect Ryan and myself.”
“I don’t think Dennis will hurt him.” Her voice was dismissive, as though she didn’t want to face the possibility that maybe he would.
“You don’t know that. He could have an accident while driving under the influence, or he could leave Ryan in an unsafe situation. You obviously don’t know that Dennis is in really bad shape.”
Another long pause. “I stuck it out with my man and he came around. You could have done the same.”
Jenna put a hand to her forehead, refusing to let this woman’s probing of her deepest pain bring fresh tears. “Maybe you’re a better woman than I am, Meredith. I tried to hold our marriage together, but our problems were bigger than I was. Dennis became too violent. I wasn’t willing to risk the safety of my son.”
Silence greeted this statement, and Jenna wondered what Meredith was thinking. The woman seemed to feel that staying with Dennis’s father and letting him vent his anger on her and their children was the right thing, the self-sacrificing thing, to do. And maybe it was, although Jenna doubted it. More likely Dennis wouldn’t have traveled the road his father had if he hadn’t experienced the same kind of abuse in his youth. If Meredith had left her husband, maybe the cycle would have been broken. Who could say? Jenna had no intention of placing herself in the lofty position of judge. She only knew that sometimes it took greater courage to leave, and to live with the failure of a marriage, than to stay.
“We haven’t heard from him,” Meredith said at last, but her voice had softened ever so slightly, and Jenna hoped that in some small way she’d reached her.
“Will you take down my number and let me know if you hear from him?”
In the background Kim’s voice intruded again. “Let me talk to her. I’ll tell her what we think of a woman who leaves her husband and then refuses to share their child—”
“No.” Meredith sounded surprisingly forceful. “I’m taking care of it. Hand me that pencil.”
Evidently Kim did as he was told, because Meredith cleared her throat and said, “I’m ready.”
