Finding Amy

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Finding Amy Page 5

by Carol Steward


  “Invited me?” He had considered this a real date? She couldn’t think about that now—her back was beginning to burn. She motioned to the truck. “I think I’m going to need help…maybe I could stretch out in the back seat.”

  He tilted her chin. “I know you’re upset, and I heard your back pop, but the last thing you need tonight is to have the rescue unit using the jaws of life to get you out of there.” He waited until she mouthed okay before he picked her up and set her onto the leather seat, helping her slide to the middle. “I bet you’re wishing we’d brought your car now.”

  She got nervous even when a police officer drove behind her. She couldn’t imagine having had to drive with one in the seat next to her. Especially Sam. “Right now, I’m very glad you’re here.”

  “Why don’t we take you to the hospital and let a doctor check it out?”

  “There’s nothing more they can do. I have surgery on Thursday. That’s the soonest they can get me in. Just take us home and I’ll get ice on it.”

  “Will you at least let me stay and help until Amy’s asleep?”

  Jessica took a deep breath and let it out very carefully. “But you have to go back to work.”

  “That can wait. You need help now.”

  Chapter Five

  Sam seemed to be hitting every red light in town. The good part of that was that Amy had fallen asleep. The bad side was, Jessica’s back had her cringing in her seat belt. “Don’t you have pain pills you can take?”

  “Not until I get Amy to sleep. The medicine knocks me out.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.” The light changed and Sam hurried through the college campus, then turned the corner to Jessica’s house.

  “Amy…” Jessica let the excuse drop when she looked at Amy, her head drooping in the car seat.

  “…is asleep,” Sam finished for her. “I’ll carry her in to her bed and come back to help you.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Jessica argued.

  “What kind of louse do you take me for? I’m not leaving you in this condition.”

  “I don’t think you’re any such thing. I don’t want to be a bother.”

  “She’s three, I’m thirty-two. It’s no bother to get her into bed so you can take care of yourself, especially when I should really be taking you to the hospital.”

  Jessica shook her head in exasperation. “You think you know everything. Children just aren’t that predictable.” The pickup filled with silence. “If you’re staying, you should park around back in the driveway. I’d hate for you to get a parking ticket.”

  Sam laughed. “Not a chance.” Despite his remark, he followed her directions to the back alley and shut off the engine. Sam immediately walked to the passenger door and took Amy into his arms. “How difficult can getting one child to bed be?”

  “I have but one regret.” Jessica turned to him, a look of delirium quickly taking over her eyes.

  “And what’s that?” Sam asked.

  The corner of her rosy lips turned up. “That I won’t be awake to see this.”

  Surely she was joking, trying to make him feel incompetent. Jessica handed Sam the keys to her apartment. “Go ahead and take Amy inside and lay her on her bed. She’ll be awake soon enough to change clothes.” Jessica moved gingerly to get out of the truck.

  “If you’ll just wait, I’ll help you.” Sam turned to Jessica. “What can I do?”

  Jessica declined his offer, insisting she’d make her way.

  “Leave your bags, I’ll come back for them.”

  Sam climbed the stairs to the apartment. While Amy wasn’t big for her age, he couldn’t imagine Jessica carrying her daughter up these stairs. He walked through the tiny kitchen and headed for what appeared to be a bedroom, startled to find a twin bed in what looked nothing like a little girl’s room. He turned the corner to the other bedroom, comforted to find another twin bed, toy box, and a pile of dolls. After laying Amy on the bed, Sam pulled her shoes off and Amy pulled her bear to her chest. His niece came to mind, though Natalie and Amy looked nothing alike. Travis’s daughter had brought an unbelievable amount of joy to his family’s life. It had been Natalie that made Sam realize how much he wanted kids.

  He was about to head back to help Jessica when Amy woke. “Day-ee.”

  Sam stopped and turned toward Amy. Maybe Dayee is the bear’s name. He had the family bug bad, he knew, but imagining little girls calling him “Daddy” was a bit much.

  Jessica walked into the apartment. “Mommy’s here, Amy. Let’s find your pj’s and get you into bed.”

  “DaDa.” There was no dispute now. He’d clearly heard “DaDa.” Amy reached for Sam, and his heart swelled.

  “I’ll help her, Jessica. Where are her pajamas?” He lifted Amy into his arms and she rested her head on his shoulder.

  He could see Jessica’s agony. Not only was she suffering physical pain from her back, but emotionally, it had to hurt hearing her daughter call him “Daddy.” “She’s sleepy. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

  “Right.”

  Jessica’s expression puzzled him. The look was almost contentment. But with the pain, how could that be?

  “I thought Dayee might be her bear’s name. Or Baby?”

  “No…” She set her bags on the table. Jessica shook her head, winced, and let out a deep groan. “It’s not.”

  He wanted to know what was going through her mind. Was she upset with him? With Amy? Or was she simply in such agony that she didn’t feel at all like talking?

  “It looks like you found her room. Amy’s pj’s are in the top drawer of her dresser.” Jessica walked stiffly to the refrigerator and removed an old-fashioned hot-water bottle from the freezer. As if she could read his mind, she held it up. “It freezes flat.”

  “Good idea.” He walked past the bathroom and stopped. “Does Amy still wear a diaper? I’m not too familiar with exact ages on that sort of thing.”

  A faint smile teased Jessica’s lips. “Ah, how refreshing, you aren’t an expert on everything. No, she’ll need to go potty. She’s pretty self-sufficient, but I’ll get her cleaned up and change her clothes.”

  Sam wanted to relieve her of duty but realized Jessica didn’t know him very well and backed off. “Sounds good.”

  He watched her hobble past him, and then left Amy with Jessica while he went in search of pajamas. The multicolored dresser coordinated with the curtains and had a Winnie-the-Pooh theme. Jessica handed him a warm washcloth when they returned a few minutes later.

  “She washed her hands, but wouldn’t let me near her face. Maybe you can work your charm on her.”

  Amy hopped onto the bed as if the catnap had recharged her battery.

  “Jessica…” He wanted to take her into his arms and put the mishaps of the evening into perspective. He wanted another chance. That surprised him, after his initial impression of her.

  She paused, clearly annoyed and not in the mood to discuss anything. “Never mind, we’ll talk later.”

  “Yeah, we need to finish talking about your date.”

  “Our date,” he corrected.

  Jessica looked him in the eye. “I’m talking about the auction.”

  He shrugged. “The only way I can stand to think of it is if you’re my date.” Where he kept coming up with these ideas he wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t argue with them. He didn’t want to see anyone else. Not until he was certain about these feelings for Jessica.

  She didn’t seem too pleased with his idea. “I don’t mean this to sound as harsh as it will, but don’t count on it. Not that I wouldn’t like to…date, mind you, but the point of this is to raise money. And on my budget…” She looked around the apartment. “I’m saving for a house.”

  “I see.”

  “And besides that, I don’t think it would look good for the organizer to wind up with the ‘prime property’—excuse the analogy, my brain’s a little foggy right now.” She raised her eyebrows, revealing beautiful gray eyes and a s
ense of humor.

  He liked the gleam in her eye when she called him that, though, as a man of God, he probably shouldn’t. “It’s nice to know you have high ethics.”

  “Yeah, now that you understand I’m a clean-cut woman, where are my drugs?” She disappeared, stifling another groan.

  Sam heard the rattle of pills in thin plastic bottles, such as a prescription would come in. She returned from the kitchen with a glass of ice water and a hopeful look of relief.

  “Thanks for staying, Sam. If you’d just lock the back door when you leave, Amy will come to my room if she wakes.” Jessica went into Amy’s room. “’Night, sweetie. Be a good girl for Sam.”

  “’Night, Mommy. Owie better.” They blew kisses, obviously both used to the limitations of Jessica’s back problems.

  Sam noticed that Amy had dressed herself as he and Jessica were talking, even though her pajamas were on backward. “C’mon, Day-ee.”

  “I’ll talk to you later, then,” he said with uncertainty as he heard the latch of her bedroom door click between them.

  Sam helped Amy onto her bed, then spread his hand wide under the washcloth. “I’m gonna get you,” he teased.

  Amy giggled and pushed her hand against his, collapsing onto the mattress.

  He let her win a couple of times, then made contact and washed the leftover ketchup from her cheeks. “All cleaned up and ready for bed.”

  He covered Amy with the sheet and turned out the light. “’Night, ’night.”

  Amy waved to him and he waved back.

  He looked around the tiny living room, wondering if Jessica was out for the night. He found the remote control, sat on the overstuffed sofa and turned to the local news.

  Tonight, as they were eating, he had realized Jessica had been in party-girl mode with the men he’d seen her with at the Stagecoach Café. She had been far from flirtatious with him. Gut instinct told him the woman he’d spent the last few hours with was the real Jessica Mathers. He knew enough of her past to understand her struggles. Like her temptation to have a cocktail with dinner. Alcohol was a tough habit to break, and he admired Jessica’s determination to improve her life one step at a time.

  Sam heard toys rattling in Amy’s room. “Amy?”

  Karumpf. Sam would never forget the sound of tiny bodies jumping into bed. He shouldn’t—he and his brothers did the same almost every night growing up. Usually they were pulling some prank on their younger sister, Lucia. The memories brought a smile.

  Sam crossed the compact living room to Amy’s door, and found her totally immersed under the covers with the corners of a book jabbing into the sheet. She was chattering away in gibberish. He watched for a moment, comforted to see Amy acting like a normal little girl. After the accident, he’d prayed that she wouldn’t suffer any problems as a result of being thrown from the car.

  He knelt next to the bed. “Could I read the book to you?”

  Amy scrambled beneath the sheet, emerging with eyes wide and a smile to match. She nodded.

  He opened the book. “If you give a moose a muffin..” He turned to her and frowned. “A moose?”

  She giggled and snuggled closer. Sam felt as if his heart had been handcuffed to these two females.

  After two books, she jumped out of the bed.

  “Where are you going, Miss Priss?”

  She giggled, covering her mouth with her tiny hand. “Potty,” she whispered.

  “Okay, potty is allowed. Then back to bed. To sleep this time.”

  “Weed anofer book?”

  “No more books, Amy. You need to go to sleep.”

  She stomped as loudly as her bare little feet could muster on the carpeted floor. He heard her flush the toilet and step up on the tiny chair to wash her hands, then stomp back to her bed. She patted her pillow, silently inviting Sam to join her.

  “’Night, ’night?”

  “Just for a minute.” He leaned against the headboard and closed his eyes, opening them every few minutes to check on Amy. He was half afraid that if he closed them for long, he’d never wake up. Soon he felt her tiny fingers rub his whiskery chin. The movement slowed to a relaxing rhythm and eventually stopped altogether.

  Sam returned to the living room, surprised to find a very groggy woman waiting.

  “How’s your back?”

  “So-so. I appreciate you staying to watch Amy. I couldn’t have managed her tonight.” Jessica propped herself against the small round kitchen table.

  “I enjoyed it. Being with her reminds me of being with Travis’s daughter.”

  Jessica yawned midsentence. “He has a daughter?” She blinked wearily and her body shifted slightly.

  Sam moved closer, just in case she collapsed. “He did. She and her mother were killed in a boating accident several years ago.”

  Jessica swayed, as if half drunk. “Oh, that’s awful.”

  “I think you’d better get back into bed before you fall and hurt yourself more.” Sam offered a hand, and she pushed it away.

  “We needed to finish our date.” She touched her finger to her lip, contemplating what she’d said. “Talking about it…for the auction, I mean.”

  “That can wait until tomorrow.”

  Her eyelids closed in slow motion. She shook her head. “Hnt-unh,” she grunted a minute later.

  Sam took her by the arm and led her back to the bedroom. “To bed with you.”

  “Nope, no sleepover bed.”

  He looked at the twin bed and laughed. “Did you take another dose of your painkiller?”

  “Mus…kle relaxants. Feeling much better.”

  “Good. Now go to bed.” Sam helped her onto the bed and smiled. This woman had high business ethics and no “sleepover” bed. He’d been totally wrong about her. Thank God, because he wasn’t sure how he’d explain this to Him otherwise.

  Sam looked in on both of them an hour later. Amy was sprawled across her bed, and Jessica had carefully propped herself against the frozen hot-water bottle. He had enjoyed the evening, despite the chaos. And he’d unexpectedly enjoyed getting to know Jessica. He reminded himself that she had once had a drinking problem. Nonetheless, she’d made a difficult choice to change her life and had stuck to it, even though it had cost her dearly. Despite the reminder that drinking problems were a lifelong battle, he felt those cuffs tighten another notch.

  Sam locked the door and descended the steep stairs. He just couldn’t imagine trying to manage them with a toddler and a bad back. It pleased him that she was looking ahead to a home of her own. Hopefully the next one wouldn’t have stairs.

  He stopped in at the station and checked his machine for messages. An envelope had arrived from the photo lab while he was gone. He opened it and studied the images, which sent him instantly back into that jail cell. Sam dropped into his chair and leaned his head back, studying the crime scene.

  Valenti lay facedown on the floor, as if whatever had killed him had hit fast. Heart attack? Poison? Lethal injection? Or had he taken his own life, fearing the battle that lay ahead? Sam had checked with the infirmary to see what drugs they stocked and if any had come up missing. They claimed they had to check their inventory and couldn’t have any definite information to him until tomorrow morning. There didn’t seem to be any sign of struggle. No bruising or scratches. The cell had smelled like Valenti hadn’t showered since they’d locked him up four days ago.

  Sam slid the pictures back into the envelope and pulled a file from his briefcase. He cross-referenced each prisoner on the list with the type of crime he was incarcerated for, then placed them in a stack according to who had been near Valenti’s cell at the time of death. Morrelli was in for petty theft and had last seen him in the exercise yard after lunch. He claimed Valenti seemed as normal as he ever had.

  Fredricks was in for aggravated burglary, awaiting trial. No history of drug use and his weapon of choice was a sawed-off shotgun.

  Sam thumbed through the stack and stopped at Zapata. An illegal alien arrested for drug
trafficking. No weapon. No altercations since he’d been locked up, awaiting extradition back to Venezuela. Last saw Valenti at lunch. Sam tapped his finger on the desk, then tossed Zapata’s card aside. Drugs. Sat with Valenti at lunch. Venezuela. Could be the link.

  Chapter Six

  Jessica woke in the morning with a lapse of memory. She had no recollection of hearing Sam leave. The thought frightened her. Had Amy tried to wake her in the night? Jessica’s bedroom door was opened slightly, just as she’d left it.

  She rolled out of bed and staggered from the pain in the sciatic nerve. She rounded the corner to Amy’s room, relieved to find her child still sleeping peacefully with her precious teddy bear tucked under her head. If Jessica hurried, she’d have time to get herself ready before Amy woke. Thankfully, Jessica had bathed Amy before they’d gone to dinner with Sam. With any luck, she’d feel well enough to give Amy another before the surgery.

  On her way to the galley kitchen to make coffee, Jessica found the throw pillows scrunched along the arm of the sofa with an indentation from Sam’s head. How recently had he left? Had Sam really believed she thought he was being a louse? Far from it. Sam Vance had the makings of a true gentleman. It puzzled her that he had shown any interest in her. After all, she didn’t have a squeaky-clean past.

  She started her four-cup coffeepot and slipped two frozen quiches into the toaster oven for breakfast. A note on the table caught her attention. Tears formed as she read Sam’s note outlining his “dream date.” She closed her eyes, wondering how things had gone with Amy after Jessica had fallen asleep.

  Jessica showered carefully and dressed, deciding she and Amy would walk to the shelter. It would be easier on her back than getting Amy in and out of her car seat. It was a nice day, and the exercise would be good for both of them.

  Large oak and pine trees lined the streets, offering a shaded walk. She would miss the quaint downtown neighborhood when they moved, though the rough part of town was edging closer and closer to her apartment. There was a good reason it was so affordable. The town house she planned to bid on meant a twenty-mile commute, but would also mean giving Amy a real home, something convenience couldn’t replace.

 

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