by Pat Warren
The meeting lasted longer than Michael had planned for, but he couldn’t exactly blame the staff. He’d been the one who hadn’t been around to help with the problem-solving lately. He owed it to each and every one to hear them out. Which he did, but when they finally filed out of the conference room and he saw that it was ten to five, he hurried to find Fallon.
She wasn’t in the third-floor room she sometimes used, nor in his room, and not in his office. The kids were already out of classes for the day, so he asked a couple if they d seen her.
None had. Nor had Sukey or Opal. Damn!
On the off chance that she might have quit for the day and gone to the beach house, he called there, thinking that would be where they would dress for tonight’s event. Sure enough, Eldora told him Fallon had called. But the news wasn’t good.
“She said to tell you to go without her,” Eldora told him, “That she doesn’t feel like stopping right now and she’ll catch you later.”
Michael frowned into the phone. “What time did she call?”
“About four, I think,” Eldora answered. “You two going out tonight?”
He had certainly thought so. “Don’t plan on us for dinner, Eldora. I’ll talk with you later.” Hanging up, he tried to puzzle it out. Fallon could have phoned him here at the house, knowing he would interrupt his meeting to take her call. But no, she’d phoned the beach house where he would get the message, but wouldn’t have a clue where to find her. Clever woman. Maddening woman.
He checked his watch again. Nearly five-thirty. He was to meet Jonathan in an hour. He would barely have enough time to get home, shower and change into his tux before the very prompt judge would be ringing his doorbell. He didn’t want to go tonight, wanted instead to go looking for Fallon who was looking for Laurie. But his priority had to be Jonathan.
Priorities. His, it seemed, had shifted somewhat over the last few weeks since Fallon had come into his life. It had been years since a woman had had him in such knots that he wanted to turn from his obligations and go to her. That was not good news.
Digging in his pocket for his keys, he hurried to the van. He had to do what he had to do. He would just have to pray that Fallon would take care of herself.
“Sherlock, are you sure?” Fallon asked. “I mean, how good is the word of a pimp?”
Sherlock stroked his shaggy gray beard. “Shadow wasn’t bragging. He was just talking, shooting the breeze, you know. And I didn’t ask him about your sister. He just volunteered the information that he had a new young girl who would soon be joining his stable, and she had green eyes and long hair the color of yours. He was real tickled that she was only sixteen.” The big man shrugged. “You can believe that or not. Don’t matter to me. But I thought you were looking for leads.”
Fallon sighed. “I am, and I’m sorry to sound so skeptical. But I...I can’t bear the thought that Laurie would be working with a...a pimp. That has to mean that she’s...” She couldn’t complete the thought.
Sherlock wasn’t without compassion. “Why don’t you ease your mind and go find the man, see for yourself? If it’s so, maybe you can coax her home. Maybe it’s not too late. At least, you can try.”
Fallon drew in a deep, bracing breath. “All right, tell me where I can find this Shadow.”
“You know — downtown, same area I told you about before. You can’t miss him. He’s black, about six-four or -five and thin. He usually wears white slacks and a white silk shirt. And he’s got a gold tooth in the front on top.”
Oh, God, Fallon thought. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d be looking up a pimp. “You said ‘stable.’ Does he have a lot of girls working for him?”
“Yeah, sure. Half a dozen, maybe more. You’ll see them around on the same streets, but Shadow looks out for his girls. He keeps a careful eye on them.”
“Why don’t I find that a comforting thought?” Fallon tucked her hair behind her ear and felt like crying.
“You want me to go with you?” he offered. When she looked up at him with those big green eyes, he shrugged, embarrassed. “I don’t usually, but you look like you’re hurting. And that’s not a real good neighborhood.”
She gave him a weak smile. “Thanks, but I’ll be all right.” She wished she believed that. She also wondered if she would ever be all right again.
Sherlock touched her arm. “Maybe you should wait until tomorrow night when Michael can go with you. He’s not going to like you going down there.” Michael sure picked the wrong night to go meet with his fancy friends in LaJolla. Sherlock wondered if he even knew she was out searching without him.
Fallon was certain the man was right. But she’d wasted too many days and nights already. If she could save her sister from — God forbid the thought — getting involved in prostitution, she would take the risk. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” It galled her to have to pay this man for information, but she supposed she should. “How much do I owe you?”
Sherlock waved a meaty hand. “This one’s on me. And good luck.”
Fallon nodded her thanks, swallowed around a lump in her throat and headed back to her rented Mustang.
Moments later, driving along Park Boulevard, she almost weakened and turned toward Michael’s beach house. He’d probably gotten her message by now and was madder than a wet hen. She squared her shoulders. No, she had to do this and do it alone. She owed it to Laurie, to her mother and to herself. If she backed out when she was this close, she would never forgive herself.
That decided, Fallon aimed the car toward the seedy side of town.
His face hurt from smiling, Michael realized, and he forced himself to relax. He’d shaken dozens of hands, sipped wine, kissed a few cheeks and shored up his argument on behalf of runaways with several heavy contributors brought over to him by Jonathan.
And he’d checked his watch every few minutes, wishing he could look up and see Fallon walk through the double doors, having changed her mind and decided to join him, after all. But no such luck. Excusing himself from the small group having predinner cocktails, he wandered toward the bank of phones, wondering if he should call.
But whom would he call? He had no way to locate her. The frustration of having his hands tied had him frowning.
“Something wrong, Michael?” Jonathan asked, coming alongside.
“A lot on my mind, that’s all.” He gave the older man a smile. “You’re looking good. Still playing tennis every week?”
“Don’t try to divert me. What’s bothering you, son?”
Michael could never resist Jonathan when he talked with him like a concerned father. So he took the older man aside and brought him up-to-date on what had been happening between him and Fallon, regarding the search for her sister, not their personal relationship.
Winding up, he shook his head. “I have to admit, I’m worried about her.” He looked again at his watch. “It’s getting late. If she’s out there, she... Well, she’s thinking with her emotions and not her head.”
Jonathan fingered his mustache thoughtfully. “What about you? Are you thinking with your emotions when it comes to this young woman?”
A frown flitted across Michael’s features briefly, then disappeared. “Of course not.” He jammed one hand in his pants pocket. “It’s just that I feel responsible. Her sister had been with us and we hadn’t been able to keep her there long enough to discover what’s bothering her, what caused her to run away in the first place. As you know, that’s the key.”
“Yes, indeed it is. Where do you think Fallon’s searching this late?”
“I wish I knew.”
A waiter approached Michael, stopping in front of him. “Mr. Redfield, there’s a phone call for you. You can take it in Booth Number Three.”
Michael sprang to attention. “Did you get the caller’s name? Is it Fallon McKenzie?”
“No, sir. Someone who called himself Sherlock.”
Jonathan looked questioning. “Do you know someone by that name, Michael?”
“Go. Do what you have to.” Jonathan placed a hand on Michael’s arm in reassurance. “We all have to do what we must.”
But Michael was already sprinting toward the phone booth.
It was dark out, but the lights of several bars along the strip as well as a hotel that was doing a thriving business and a brightly lit theater marquee advertising a soft porn film gave the illusion of a vividly colorful day. Heart in her throat, Fallon walked slowly along the sidewalk.
A tall girl who couldn’t have yet reached her eighteenth birthday was standing under a dim streetlamp wearing a skirt shorter than most of Fallon’s shirts, along with mesh stockings. Just like in the movies, Fallon thought. Farther along were two slightly younger blond girls, smoking and watching the cars slowly drive by through jaded, bored eyes. A short middle-aged man in a black outfit with red suspenders lingered on the corner chewing gum.
But where was the tall man in white she was seeking?
She passed on by, daring to look everyone in the eye, hoping to find Laurie among them, yet dreading it as well. She wasn’t really afraid, although if she thought about it more, she might be. She’d acted quickly, driven here and parked, then started out on foot before she could change her mind.
The words that Roxie had said that day by the television came back to Fallon. Did you ever love someone enough to feel their protective presence, even when they’re not with you? Yes, she did. Michael, his strength and his courage, were with her even though he couldn’t be.
Fallon walked on, crossing the street, to the next block.
It took her half an hour to cruise the whole area, but on the way back, she spotted him. He was just like Sherlock had said—very tall and thin, wearing sleek white slacks, a white silk shirt—and he was smiling at someone, flashing his gold tooth.
Shadow.
Fallon swallowed hard and walked slowly toward him.
It seemed to take forever, but finally, Michael spotted Fallon’s car parked under a streetlight. Jonathan had picked him up for the drive to the Del and he’d offered the use of his Lincoln when he had to leave, but Michael had declined. In this neighborhood, that car might not have lasted too long. So he’d grabbed a cab.
On the ride over, he’d sat on the edge of his seat, worried anxious and afraid. He never should have let Fallon out of his sight. If anything happened to her, it would be his fault. The thought of losing her had his palms sweating as he got out of the cab and paid the driver.
“You sure this is where you want to go, mister?” the cabbie asked, taking in Michael’s tux and the fact that he’d brought him from the Del Coronado.
“Yes, this is the area. Thanks.” Michael stepped up on the curb and looked around. The place was jumping, cars cruising, girls offering their wares, couples strolling arm in arm, music blaring. Saturday night in the big city, or at least in this section of the big city. Hands in his pockets, he started out walking.
He went into the first bar he came to that was nearest where Fallon had left the Mustang. One or two people gave him the eye, including a redhead seated on a stool who smiled invitingly, but most ignored him despite his out-of-place formal attire. Not seeing the one he was looking for, he left and walked on.
He was nearing the end of the second block when he saw several people clustered around a tall man involved in some sort of commotion. Cautiously, he approached, looking over the shoulder of a solidly built man wearing a garish blue blazer.
What he saw had him almost reeling.
“No, you listen to me,” Fallon said, looking up into the face of the black man with the gold tooth. “I want you to tell me where my sister is right now. ”
Shadow’s smile widened. “Sure, little lady. The Shadow knows everything.” He dared to slip an arm around her slim waist. “You just come with me and I’ll take you right to her.”
“No, I will not.” Eyes blazing, Fallon swatted away his arm. She’d about had it with this jerk. He’d been fencing with her ever since she’d approached him, trying to distract her first, then to persuade her to leave. Fallon was persisting because one of the girls hanging around had overheard her describing her sister to him and had spoken up.
“You must mean Laurie,” the girl had said. “Sure, I know her.” She’d looked up at the tall man. “Shadow, tell her where Laurie is.”
“Shut up, Jasmine,” Shadow had told her without taking his eyes from Fallon. “Get back to work.”
Her heart had plummeted about then. If these people knew Laurie, then she had to be working with them. Fallon would think about that later. “I don’t want to have to get rough and call the law in on this, Shadow,” she went on. “But Laurie’s underage and...”
His coarse laugh rippled out. “Down here, sweet lady, we don’t talk much about age.” His bold, dark eyes skimmed down her and back up. “Matter of fact, I think I could use you. You could make big money with Shadow backing you up.”
Fallon felt a repulsive shiver take her as fierce anger rose in her. Made desperate by fear, she held her ground. “Tell me where she is. I have friends in the police department.”
Shadow’s smile slipped and his eyes took on a mean cast as he leaned down into her face. “Don’t you threaten me, bitch. I ain’t afraid of no cops, either.” He scowled past her, his glance taking in several of his girls watching the little scene with grave interest. He ran long fingers down the girl’s arm. “Let’s you and me go somewhere private and—”
“Get your hands off her!” Michael, having just arrived and seen what was going on, stepped between two women who’d been standing with the short, stocky man. Sherlock had told him whom and what to look for. He owed the fat man big time for this one.
Surprised, his shrewd eyes measuring, Shadow glanced at Michael. “Hello, brother. She with you?”
“Yes, she is.” Michael took Fallon’s hand and pulled her to his side. “Don’t you touch her again.”
“I’m not leaving until I talk with Laurie,” Fallon insisted.
Shadow brushed imaginary lint from his sleeve with manicured fingers. “Better go while the gettin’s good, sweet lady. Your sister, she ain’t here.”
Fallon glanced at Jasmine who dared to give an almost-imperceptible nod. It was all she needed to dig her heels in. “She’s here. Now, you produce her or I will call my source at headquarters.” From her handbag, Fallon retrieved Michael’s cellular phone.
“Fallon,” Michael said in a low tone as he scanned the interested faces of those gathered around, “let me talk with Shadow alone and—”
“No! I want my sister here and now. I know she’s in the area.” She spoke directly to Shadow. “You call her or find her or whatever you have to do. But I’m not leaving until she shows.”
Shadow apparently had had enough. He grabbed Fallon’s arm and his eyes turned mean and ugly. “Go home, little lady. You got no business here.” Then he turned his back to them.
It was a mistake. Again, Michael moved so swiftly that several people were shocked into jumping back. He whirled Shadow around, punched one fist into his stomach, then followed with a clip under the chin.
Shadow slid to the pavement and gave a loud grunt. Michael wasn’t even breathing hard. “I told you not to touch her again.” He reached for Fallon’s hand. “Let’s go.”
“No, not until he brings Laurie to me.”
“Dammit, Fallon,” Michael said, his voice low and impatient, “I don’t think he knows where she is.”
“Yes, he does,” she insisted, gazing down at the woozy man as he sat up, clutching his stomach. “Where is she?”
From the direction of the narrow alleyway behind them, a voice interrupted as heads turned. “I’m right here, Fallon,” Laurie said.
Fallon sat in the front seat of the Mustang while Michael drove and Laurie rode in the b
ack. They’d said scarcely a word since the encounter on the sidewalk. Fallon had hugged her sister, grateful that she was alive, then hustled her into the car. Laurie hadn’t asked where they were taking her and Fallon hadn’t, either, letting Michael drive, although she saw now that they were going to the beach house. That was probably best, since there they would at least have privacy.
She had a great many questions stored up, yet was fearful of asking most, sure that Laurie would bolt again. Drawing in a shaky breath, Fallon resigned herself to the fact that that might be the case. But not until she learned why her sister had left in the first place.
Laurie hadn’t been dressed like the other girls who’d been hovering around Shadow. She had on black slacks and a red shirt, nothing slinky or sexy. Dared she hope that Laurie hadn’t gotten involved too deeply yet, that she’d found her in time?
Michael pulled the Mustang into the carport and went upstairs to change clothes after showing them both into the living room that faced the sea. Fallon sat down and watched Laurie squat by the window, petting King who’d taken to her immediately, and staring out at the waves gently rolling in under a moonlit sky. She waited but when nothing seemed to be forthcoming, she decided to plunge in.
“Laurie, I...”
“No, let me.” Laurie straightened, turned around and walked over, the dog following along. With her face clean of makeup, she looked unbearably young. “I didn’t really think you cared about me, not really. I thought you just wanted to drag me back and get me off your conscience. But tonight, when you went after Shadow like that...” Her eyes filled with tears. “I knew you must care.”
Fallon pulled her down to sit with her, taking her into her arms for a long hug, her own eyes moist. “Of course, I care. God, Laurie, I’ve been nearly crazy looking for you. I left my home, lost my job, got everyone mad at me. But I wouldn’t give up because I have this gut feeling that you really don’t want to live on the street.”
