Saving Madeline

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  Sometimes she hated being so analytical.

  “I’m looking forward to seeing you.” His voice was casual, but she sensed innuendo beneath the words, and her thoughts scattered. Who cared how she ended up at dinner with Mace Keeley? Just so she did.

  “Me too.” Caitlin hung up the phoned and kicked into high gear. She began dialing a telephone number as she shrugged off her pajamas and stared into her closet, wondering what to wear. Something attractive but that wouldn’t show too much bare skin, as it was cold outside and she was supposedly coming from work. She chose a sheer red top with her fitted black suit coat and skirt. After she lost the jacket, the top would be dressy and the skirt just tight enough and short enough to emphasize her legs, which she had always considered her best feature.

  Sally wasn’t answering her home or cell phone, and neither were either of Caitlin’s next-door neighbors or Amy’s baby-sitter. Caitlin put a dab of perfume behind her ears and on her neck, beginning to feel a touch of despair. Her demanding job hadn’t left her time for many friends, and that meant she didn’t have a lot of people she could call on for help. Wait, she did have a cousin who lived in Salt Lake. Where was the number? She found it at last, only to learn the number had been disconnected.

  “Now who?” she muttered, glancing at Amy, who was still sprawled on the bed, thumbing through her picture books. If only their parents were alive. If only Amy was normal. Sighing in disgust at her own thoughts, Caitlin slumped on the bed.

  “Are you okay?” Amy asked. “You look mad. Did I do something?”

  “No, sweetie. You didn’t do anything.”

  Caitlin searched through the phone numbers on her cell phone again. Jodi. Maybe she would be willing. At least she knew about Amy.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Jodi. It’s Caitlin. Look, are you busy right now? I’ve had something really important come up, and I need someone to stay with my sister.”

  “I’m just heading to a movie,” Jodi said. “I’d volunteer to take her with me, but”—her voice lowered—“I’m with this really hot guy I met in court yesterday. Sorry.”

  “That’s okay. Thanks anyway.”

  Caitlin spied Sally’s husband on her list of contacts. He’d at least know where she was.

  “Hello?” Tony answered on the second ring.

  “Hi, it’s Caitlin. I’m looking for Sally.”

  “She’s on a stakeout. She should be home, but she’s got some hunch about this kidnapping, and she’s pulling overtime. I decided to take Randi to visit my parents.”

  “You’re clear up in Logan?”

  “Yep. I thought I might as well drive up, since Sally’s down in Manti.”

  “I see.”

  “You can call her on her cell.”

  “She’s not answering.”

  “I’m sorry. Was it very important?”

  Only an entire future with Mace Keeley. “Nothing that can’t wait,” she said aloud.

  When Caitlin hung up the phone, she saw that all of her minutes were gone. So much for eons of time, she thought with despair.

  Could she take Amy on her date? She let herself hope for a few minutes longer. Amy might behave. She might actually eat the food she was given without complaint. Maybe she would be too tired to talk incessantly. She might not ask Mace to father Caitlin’s children.

  No. Taking Amy would be a disaster. Especially when Mace was only expecting her. And how romantic would it be anyway, with Amy watching their every move? Caitlin had no choice but to call Mace back and cancel.

  “Hi,” he said, sounding happy to hear from her.

  She took a deep breath. “Hi, Mace. Look, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to cancel. I thought I had everything taken care of, but there’s something else I have to do. I’m really sorry. How about a rain check?”

  “If you want I could stop by with some take-out.” His voice sounded strangely compelling.

  “I can’t. I won’t be alone. I was looking forward to it, but—”

  “No problem,” he said quickly. “I know how it is. We’ll do something another day.”

  Caitlin stared at the phone in her hand for long minutes after their conversation. She knew she might never have another opportunity with him. She wished she didn’t care so much.

  Amy’s arms went around her. “Caitlin, why are you sad?”

  Caitlin returned Amy’s hug, blinking back unbidden tears. They settled back on her pillows before Caitlin answered. “Well, there’s a guy I kind of like, and I was going to go see him tonight, but it didn’t work out.”

  “Because of me.” Amy frowned. “I could stay by myself.”

  “No, you can’t.”

  “If I was smarter, I could.”

  Her tone made Caitlin feel worse. Though Amy had enough intelligence to understand that something was different about her, they didn’t usually discuss it.

  “Oh, Amy.” Caitlin pulled her sister closer, gazing into her eyes. “I love you exactly the way you are.”

  Amy’s lip curved in her sweet smile. “I love you, too, Caitlin. More than anyone.” She laid her head on Caitlin’s shoulder.

  They were quiet a long moment as Caitlin pondered her life. Any man she became involved with would have to know about and accept Amy. Because no matter what, she would never, ever leave Amy behind.

  “Is he cute?” Amy asked suddenly.

  Caitlin laughed. “Very cute.”

  “Would he make good babies?”

  “I’m sure he’d make incredible babies.” Though the picture of Mace as a husband was not something Caitlin was going to torture herself with tonight.

  “Good.” Amy was quiet for a moment and then abruptly her eyes closed. Like many young children, for Amy the difference between wakefulness and sleep was a matter of seconds.

  Caitlin eased her arm out from under her sister and went to change back into her pajamas. She was reaching for the remote and getting ready to numb her brain into thoughtlessness by watching whatever was on TV when Sally called.

  “Hi,” Sally asked. “Need something?”

  “You’re on a stakeout?”

  “I’m keeping an eye on the father of that kidnapped girl I told you about. I was chatting with some of his neighbors when you called before.”

  “I saw the Amber Alert.”

  “Hopefully it’ll bring in more tips.”

  “So you think the father did it?”

  “I don’t know, but he’s lying about something. But it’s odd. He’s my most likely suspect, but I kind of like him.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’m partial to men in construction.”

  “Ah. Does he look like Tony?”

  “Not at all. But he’s not bad. If I weren’t married . . .”

  Caitlin ignored that. Both of them knew Sally was wildly crazy about Tony.

  “So why did you call?” Sally asked into the silence.

  “I wanted to see if I could drop Amy at your place for the night. I had the chance to go out to dinner with Mace Keeley.”

  “Ah, the handsome deputy DA.”

  “The one and only.”

  “Apparently all that drooling over him this past year hasn’t been in vain. Miracles do happen.”

  “I have not been drooling over him!”

  “Yes, you have.”

  “Well, so what?”

  “I think it’s fabulous, Caitlin. Why didn’t you tell me before? I could have assigned this evening to someone else.”

  “It wasn’t planned. He was working late and managed to get off earlier. When he called, we decided to do dinner. But I couldn’t take Amy, so I had to cancel.”

  “Next time, give me some notice. Randi would love to have Amy over.”

  “I’m not so sure there’ll be a next time.”

  Sally was quiet a long moment. “You’re selling yourself short, you know. You’re the hottest lawyer babe I know. And don’t compare yourself with that toothpick, white-faced paralegal y
ou work with, either. You’re a woman, not a little girl.”

  Caitlin sighed. She knew Sally meant well, but she wasn’t helping.

  “Well, at least you have tomorrow night,” Sally added.

  Caitlin made a face but managed not to groan. With the excitement and subsequent disappointment of Mace’s invitation, she’d forgotten all about her date with Wyman. What if he tried to blackmail her into giving him more information on other cases? Or used his knowledge to try to force her into a dating relationship?

  He doesn’t have proof.

  Yet.

  “Oh, yes. Can’t forget tomorrow,” Caitlin said with false gaiety. “And I guess I’d better let you go get the bad guys.”

  “I’m not so sure he is the bad guy, but I’m doing everything I can to bring that little girl home to her mother—whether the woman deserves it or not.”

  Caitlin hung up and watched TV until she fell asleep. Instead of dreaming about Mace Keeley, she dreamed of Wyman Russell running after her with the bloody knife he carried wrapped in a dark blue jacket.

  Chapter 6

  Parker heard pans clanging in the kitchen and came to consciousness with a start. From the angle of the light spilling in from the gauzy green curtains, he was late. His head felt full of sand, and his muscles protested the slightest move. Apparently working construction used different muscles than jogging and playing half the night with a four-year-old.

  There was something heavy on his chest, and he looked down to see Madeline’s head there, her feet splayed toward the side of the bed. Seeing her cleared the fog from his brain and sent him into action. This innocent, precious child was the reason he was going to such great effort, the reason he had to make it all work. Gently, he eased out from under Madeline, leaning over to place a kiss on the small mole on her right cheek.

  Hopefully, she’d sleep a good portion of the day so she wouldn’t have as much time to get bored. He should probably think about finding her a preschool eventually. He doubted Carla would be able to teach her to read English.

  Quickly, he changed from his pajama bottoms into his extra pair of jeans, having tossed the other pair into the dirty laundry the night before. He’d showered last night and his shirt was still fairly clean, so he was good to go.

  Carla was in the kitchen, and her pretty brown face lit up at seeing him. “Good morning,” she said. Her long hair was secured in the back with a clip the way Dakota had sometimes worn hers. For some reason it made him feel sad.

  “Good morning.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m late, so I have to get going. She stayed up pretty late. It’s probably best to let her sleep.”

  Carla nodded. “She sleep. I bring book to read.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  “Want to eat?” Carla said, motioning to the stove where she was already cooking something he thought might be Madeline’s lunch. Their deal was that she’d buy food and make all the meals for Madeline, and enough dinner for him as well. “I make eggs, eef you like.”

  “No, thanks. I’ll get something later. I’m really late.” He pulled his sweatshirt over his head, wishing it wasn’t so cold outside and that he didn’t have five miles to run before he could get his truck.

  “Daddy?” Madeline was in the doorway, rubbing her eyes. “Are you leaving?” Her lips drew into a pout.

  “I have to work. But remember we’ll spend the whole day together tomorrow.”

  “Can we see Grandma?”

  He thought about it. “Maybe. I’ll try to make it work.” He bent down and held out his arms, and Madeline ran into them. “Be a good girl for Carla today, okay? If you need me, call the phone like I showed you last night. But only if it’s really important, okay? Otherwise, I’ll call you at lunchtime again.”

  “Okay, Daddy, but it’s kind of boring here.”

  “I’ll bring you some games.”

  “Can I watch TV?”

  “Yes.” He hadn’t figured on her being bored. Usually when they were together, they had so much planned they couldn’t squeeze all the activities into the two short days they had been allotted for his visitation. “I’ll be back soon, sweetie. I love you.”

  She squeezed his neck with mock ferociousness. “I love you too, Daddy. You’re my bestest, bestest daddy ever.”

  “And you’re my bestest girl.”

  After cautioning her to stay inside, he left for the long run to his apartment. The cold morning air seared the inside of his nose and throat as he ran. Since he worked outside most days, he had learned to deal with the cold, but he still hated it with a passion. When it was hot he could dunk his head and gulp down water to chase away the heat from inside. The cold was another story. It seeped between the layers of clothing, crawled into his pores and mouth and nose, lodging in his bones and making him feel stiff and old. Maybe he should take that job as a foreman. He’d worked hard for the opportunity and it wasn’t really a surprise to have it offered. Of course, even if he could move Madeline, it was already too late for that opportunity.

  As he ran, the weight of what he was trying to do threatened to crush him. The police were following him, not checking out Dakota as he’d hoped. For all he knew, Dakota was playing the poster mother for all lost children. Dakota, who’d thought nothing of letting her daughter live in a meth house, or who had locked Madeline in her room so she could be alone with her friends to do a little recreational crack.

  He made it back to his apartment and in through the window, changing quickly into a long-sleeved work shirt and his heavy coat. The unmarked car was still outside the apartment, and he stifled the urge to wave to the officers. No use letting them know he knew they were there. They might make their surveillance more subtle and track him to Madeline.

  Driving to work, the realization hit him. I can’t keep this up. The police weren’t going to stop any time soon, and hiding inside all day was no life for a child—or for him. His mother was right. They would have to disappear.

  • • •

  As Caitlin readied for her date Saturday night, Amy was more excited than Caitlin was. In fact, she dreaded the evening with Wyman. He was picking her up at six—a time she insisted on so they wouldn’t be too late getting home. Gloria, her neighbor on the left, had agreed to watch Amy, but Caitlin had promised to pick her up before ten. Nine preferably. Or maybe eight? Would Wyman believe that?

  She grimaced into the mirror. Oddly enough, she looked really good, even if she did say so herself. Her unruly copper hair often waved or curled out of control, usually in a half-and-half mixture that looked rather uneven and that almost always prompted Caitlin to pin up her hair for work, but today the hair was being remarkably well-behaved. A little gel had helped even out the waves and curls, and the air drying helped tamed the frizz. Her makeup had gone on well, and the fitted blue blouse she’d chosen to wear over black slacks made her eyes even bluer. She’d chosen these clothes because she didn’t know where they were going and didn’t really care about making an impression, but even she had to admit that she looked, well, hot.

  “You look so beautiful,” Amy said with a sigh. “Like a princess.” She whirled around the bathroom, looking rather incongruous and awkward given her height and bulk.

  Caitlin hugged her. “Thank you, Amy.”

  “I know you don’t like him a real lot, but I think he’s nice.” Amy obviously hadn’t noticed the revulsion Wyman had shown for her, and Caitlin was glad. There were distinct advantages to being one of the pure and innocent.

  Her mind churned over what Wyman might say or do this evening. As always, her thoughts fell into the same pattern. Did he think she would start feeding him information about her cases?

  He can’t prove anything, she told herself for the hundredth time in the past few days. But she knew there were ways. Now that they’d tracked down the boy, they’d work on Kenny, and though Kenny had always been reliable, he might accidentally let something slip. Would there be enough to prove misconduct? If so, would that set Chet Belstead free?


  The thought made her sick. But what else could she have done? Watch him walk away free, only to meet up with him again when he was arrested for a similar crime? When another victim and her family sat on the benches with devastation in their eyes?

  The nauseated feeling increased. She knew she had made her choice, and now she had to do what she could to keep Chet Belstead in jail and to protect her job and Amy.

  “Come on,” Caitlin said, pushing away the dark thoughts. “Let’s get you over to Gloria’s.”

  “Yippee!” Amy loved Gloria, who worked at the Hostess outlet and always brought home their products. At least once a week they would find donuts or some other treat in a plastic sack on their doorknob.

  Before they left the bathroom the doorbell rang, and Amy ran to open it. Caitlin followed more slowly in her black high-heeled boots. “It’s that one guy!” Amy called. “He has some flowers and they’re so pretty. Hurry, Caitlin!”

  Caitlin came into view, pulling on her dressy leather jacket. She met Wyman’s eyes and was satisfied to see his admiration, though why she’d care for his admiration was beyond her. “Hi,” she said pleasantly, her eyes dropping to the bouquet of roses in his hands. She hadn’t expected flowers.

  “You ready?”

  “I need to walk Amy next door.”

  “I can do it myself.” Amy edged past Wyman and out onto the porch.

  “Wait,” Wyman said. “Here.” He gave the flowers to Amy. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide. Caitlin hadn’t seen her so surprised since two years ago when Caitlin had redone her room in a princess motif for her twenty-fifth birthday.

  “Me?” Amy asked. “Aren’t they for Caitlin?”

  “They’re for you. Go ahead, take them.”

  Amy took the flowers and bounced up and down. “They’re so pretty. So pretty! I never had flowers before, did I, Caitlin? I love them!” She hugged them to her chest, plastic and all.

  Caitlin was laughing, feeling grateful to Wyman despite her distaste for him. “Careful of the thorns. Come on, bring them into the kitchen. Let’s get you a vase to take to Gloria’s. She can help you arrange them in water.”