Man of His Word

by Cynthia Reese

  CHAPTER NINE

  ON THE WAY across the street, the first thing the detective did was release Kimberly from using his title and last name. “Ma practically raised me, so any friend of Daniel’s is welcome to dispense with the formalities.”

  They walked into the diner, and Tim hustled her back to a booth at the end. The waitress immediately brought two cups and a hot carafe of coffee.

  “Morning, Tim... Ma’am, Tim here likes his coffee fully leaded and black as night, that okay with you? Or do you want something else?”

  “That’s fine,” Kimberly said. “The sugar’s here on the table. Can I have some cream, though?”

  “Coming right up.” The waitress glanced Tim’s way. “Same as usual, even though it’s a tad early for lunch?”

  “Yep. Eat when you can, that’s my motto. Oh, my usual is the steak, mashed potatoes and gravy with a side of green beans and extra mushrooms. You want that? Or...what else, Vera? Y’all still got breakfast?”

  “Actually...” Kimberly remembered that grim encounter with her checkbook balance this morning. She couldn’t afford two breakfasts in one day. “The coffee will be fine.”

  A moment later, Vera brought a pitcher of cream to go with the sugar packets Kimberly had waiting by her cup. Tim had begun quaffing down his coffee, seemingly immune to its scalding temperature.

  “Daniel said Marissa had some health issues, and you were trying to get the birth mom’s identity?” Tim asked, setting his mug down. “You know I can’t give you that information. State law and all.”

  “Right.” Kimberly didn’t look up from stirring her coffee. She wanted to frame her words exactly right. “But what can you tell me? Anything? Can you...can you tell me if anybody was with her? If she told you about any health problems?”

  Tim frowned, a line forming on his freckled forehead. “Let’s see...she was by herself. I was the first officer on the scene. I got there as they were loading her into the ambulance. Man, that was a scene! You know she nearly died, right?”

  Kimberly’s heart skipped a beat. “No. How?”

  “Some sort of hemorrhage. They didn’t catch it at first, but they couldn’t stop the bleeding. I know I closed out my case after my boss told me to count it as a safe-haven surrender and the birth mother was flown out to Macon—that’s the nearest trauma center.”

  Kimberly placed her coffee mug down on the laminate to hide the way her fingers trembled. Finally, a clue about Marissa’s family medical history. Hemorrhaging during childbirth could have been caused by PAI-1 deficiency, or any number of possibilities. “But she survived?”

  Tim blinked. He sagged back into the booth. “That’s—that’s something I don’t know. I guess I assumed she did. I mean, I know she made it to Macon. But honestly, I couldn’t tell you. She had no charges pending against her once my superiors told me to count it as a safe-haven surrender.” He grinned and ducked his head. “We, um, were more interested in how the baby was doing, to be truthful. Man, it’s amazing how that baby’s all grown-up now.”

  Kimberly fought back conflicting emotions: fear that her assumption all this time that Marissa’s birth mother was still alive and could give them the answers they needed was wrong; the familiar frustration that finding her wasn’t as easy as a quick check of the records; and a surge of appreciation that, even before she’d come into Marissa’s life, her daughter had people looking out for her.

  Someone, somewhere, knows something. And if I can’t talk to the birth mom, I could track down her parents or the birth father or even his parents.

  Vera plunked down a huge platter of steak the size of a small continent with a mountain range of potatoes and green beans beside it. “There ya go. And here’s your bill, just like you like it. More coffee?”

  “Thanks, Vera. Why don’t you leave the carafe?”

  She put her free hand on her hip. “Now, Tim, you know I can’t do that. His Highness back there doesn’t like it.”

  Tim craned his head to peer around Vera and apparently spotted whoever His Highness was, and shrugged. “Well, it was worth a try. Fill her up, then.”

  Coffee refreshed in both mugs, and Vera once again gone, Tim tucked into his food. “Sure you don’t want something?”

  The smells wafting from his side of the table tempted Kimberly mightily, but she fought back. “No, thanks, I’m fine. You were saying that you got there just as the mother was put on the ambulance.”

  “Yeah. I was new on the job then, and grateful to my bones that I didn’t have to catch that baby! No offense, but it was better all around that Daniel was the one. I mean, I was a town kid. Daniel grew up on a farm, and he’s always been good in a crisis. Me? I would have dropped her on her head, probably.”

  Kimberly smiled at his self-deprecation and shook her head. “All the excitement was over, then? When you got there?”

  He forked up another bite of potatoes and considered. “Yeah, pretty much. Baby was safe, mom was safe, all I had to do was take care of the car and follow them to the hospital to get the paperwork filled out.”

  “Take care of the car?”

  “Well, it had to be towed, right? It couldn’t be left on the lawn of the fire station. So I alerted the tow company on call and waited for them to come, then headed on to the hospital. By then, the mother had taken a turn for the worse, and she wasn’t saying much to anybody anyway, except Daniel, so I hung around to wait for her to be airlifted out.”

  “Wait...you said ‘except Daniel.’ What do you mean? Did—did you or Daniel know her? I mean, before that day?”

  “Not me. Never seen her before in my life. And I don’t know if Daniel had, either. But she took a shine to him. One of the EMT guys told me later that she didn’t want to say a word to anybody except to him.”

  A slow boil, as hot as the coffee she’d downed, fired up within Kimberly. Daniel knew who this girl was. He’d at least befriended her. She’d trusted him, and she’d probably told him enough details that he could help Kimberly track her down.

  She recalled how carefully he’d phrased his words: what could he tell her. Could. Not would.

  And apparently Daniel had a very narrow definition of could.

  She put aside her anger at Daniel and shifted her focus to the conversation at hand. If Daniel wouldn’t help her, maybe Tim would be more forthcoming. “The car... Daniel said it was old.”

  “Had about a half-dozen different paint colors on it, looked like something from a demolition derby,” Tim agreed, chuckling. “Tow-truck guy gave me trouble about towing it, because the vehicle didn’t belong to her, so he knew he wasn’t going to get any money out of the deal.”

  Now Kimberly was confused. “She stole the car? But you said there were no charges pending?”

  “Er, no felonies. Traffic tickets aren’t something we arrest you for. You can either show up in court or call back and pay your fine. And the owner of the car showed up and said he’d given her permission to use it, so it didn’t get towed after all. Boy, was that tow-truck driver steamed!”

  “Which tow-truck company? Do you remember?”

  Tim grinned. “Now you’re thinking like a detective. Are you sure you’re not on the job?”

  She felt her face grow hot at the compliment. “No, I’m a teacher. But thanks.”

  “As for the tow-truck company...” His face took on a serious expression. “I don’t know that I can tell you that. Daniel reminded me that we can’t identify this girl to you. And he’s right. She’s protected under safe-haven laws.” He brightened. “But...since you’re a junior detective anyway, I can tell you that there aren’t too many towing companies in this town, and the guy’s still in business. What’s more, he’s still as grouchy as he was that same day.”

  Kimberly laughed. The triumph at this clue was tinged with frustration, though. This was what she’d hoped Daniel would do—lay down a trail of bread crumbs for her, even if he couldn’t reveal the girl’s identity. “All I have to do is hunt down Mr. Grouch Towing?”<
br />
  “Good name for him, that’s for sure.”

  By now, Tim’s steak was half-gone and his mashed potatoes were history. Kimberly had the feeling that once that plate was empty, this interview was over.

  “You mentioned the EMTs... Could you tell me who they were?”

  “Sure. I’ll even call the guy for you, give him a heads-up. He’s Randy Paxton. The other guy with him—Gene... Now, what was Gene’s last name? Higgins, that was it. He dropped dead of a heart attack, oh, about three or four years ago.” Tim glanced down ruefully at his plate. “And if I keep eating this way, I’m probably not long behind him.”

  “I don’t know. You look pretty healthy.”

  “What? You think all cops have the doughnut belly?” There was that self-deprecating twinkle in his eye again. “I’m hurt.”

  “This Randy Paxton—when can I talk to him?”

  “Give me some time to call him. He’s still an EMT, but he’s the county’s EMT director now, so he’s always hopping.” Tim flipped out his notebook. “What’s your number? I’ll call you as soon as I talk to him.”

  She gave it to him. “Do you think he’d be free sometime today? Because we have to head back to Atlanta very soon.”

  “I can try. But I warn you, he’s always swamped. I can definitely promise you Monday morning, first thing. That’s the best time to catch him. Say, Daniel knows him better than I do, even—you could get him to call for you, as well.”

  Somehow Kimberly had her doubts that Daniel would go out of his way to help her. He could have told her what Tim had, or even offered to point her in the right direction. But he hadn’t.

  And...he’d made it his business to fill Tim in on what she wanted, reminding the detective about safe-haven laws. What would Tim have told her if Daniel hadn’t warned him?

  That’s not fair. Tim’s a police officer, so he’d know what the law required. And Daniel did offer some information.

  Still, as she made her way to the cash register and paid for her coffee, Kimberly realized that, even with Tim’s bread crumbs, the information she’d gleaned was not nearly enough.

  And her time and her money were going fast.

  CHAPTER TEN

  DANIEL HEFTED THE crate of beans onto the back of the truck alongside a companion crate of squash. The guys at the station would give him some kind of trouble when he asked for volunteers to shell the butter beans. They might walk through a burning building, but gardening and preserving and cooking? They’d howl.

  “Daniel...” Ma had that look on her face, the one that meant a lecture was headed his way.

  “I know, I know, I should have remembered these this morning and not wasted time—”

  “No, I know you’re busy. You’ve got a lot of responsibility on you right now. You’re like your father, you know.” Her blue eyes suddenly filled with tears, and she swiped at them. Sniffling, she cleared her throat. “He’d be so proud of you, Daniel. So proud.”

  The image of his dad in the burn unit came back fresh and strong. The feel of his gauze-wrapped hand in Daniel’s, the barely audible commands.

  Take care of your brothers and your sisters and Ma.

  Keep your word, Danny, keep your word, no matter the cost.

  He stared out across the yard to see Marissa chasing after one of the twins—Logan, Daniel thought. She tickled the kid, let him go, then chased after him again as he shouted, “Again, ’Rissa! Again!”

  Could Daniel keep his word to Miriam? Was he really protecting her secrets?

  And at what cost to Marissa and Kimberly?

  Kimberly had not looked pleased to see him this morning. Their set-to last night was still fresh in his memory. He understood why she was going after this information, but couldn’t she have some mercy on him and not put him in such a difficult situation? He wanted to keep his word, even if he’d given it as a wet-behind-the-ears rookie who hadn’t thought of the implications.

  “She’s something, isn’t she?” Ma commented.

  He could tell that she, too, was eyeing Marissa. “Yeah. She’s a great kid. Fits right in with our bunch.”

  “That’s what I was going to say. Daniel, you can’t let that woman pay for a hotel room when I have empty beds at this house. Now that Andrew and Rob have flown the coop, it’s just me and you and Maegan here. We have five bedrooms here—five!”

  “Ma, we don’t really know them—”

  She tapped him on the arm. “Don’t give me that. If nothing else after raising six kids, I’m an excellent judge of character, Daniel Monroe. And you are, too. You would have never asked me to have them out here last night if you hadn’t thought them good people.”

  That was true enough. For some reason, within five minutes of meeting Kimberly, he’d felt as if he’d known her for years. It had to be a trick of the mind, because of his connection to Marissa. But how could a few panic-filled moments of chaos translate into this bond that vibrated between Kimberly and him? She hadn’t been the one who’d given birth to that baby after all.

  No, that had been Miriam, and the one thing he owed her was his word.

  His mother wasn’t letting her idea go. “Well? Are you going to ask Kimberly, or should I?

  “I don’t think they’re planning on staying long—”

  “I like her,” Ma said firmly. “I like her, and I like Marissa, and you can tell a lot about a woman from the way her children act. I like the fact that she’s a careful mother who’s trying to help her daughter. If it were DeeDee in some strange town hundreds of miles from home, with Taylor, wouldn’t you want someone—”

  “Ma!” He threw up his hands. “All right, okay. You win. If it were any of my sisters, I’d want to know that someone decent at least offered. I’ll ask her. Today. You’re one in a million, you know that? There’s not a stray you can ever turn down, is there?”

  “And there’s nothing wrong with that, Daniel. Not a thing.”

  “Where’d Bobbi get off to? We’ve got beans to shell and squash to wash and slice, and if I hang around here, you’ll hornswoggle me into doing something else against my better judgment.”

  Right on cue, Bobbi strolled out of the back door, her hands full of foil-wrapped care packages. “Ma, that is the absolute best apple cake! I swear, I could eat half of it all by myself.”

  “You’ve been eating cake?” Daniel gave her a mock fierce look. “While I’ve been slogging away loading beans? Beans that I picked yesterday, mind you!”

  She licked an errant bit of cake and apple filling off her fingertips. “I saved some for you, don’t worry. And besides, you had help with those beans. Logan said he picked all of them but two.”

  “Tell you what, I’ll let you pick beans with a six-year-old boy and see if that’s easier than doing it by yourself—”

  Ma interrupted. “Bobbi, it was good to see you again. Don’t be a stranger, and bring that fellow of yours out as well, okay?”

  “If there’s any more apple cake in the offing, you can bet I will,” Bobbi told her.

  “There’ll be no more cake until these beans are shelled,” Daniel said. “That’s orders from the chief.” He slammed the tailgate of the truck shut.

  Bobbi tucked Ma’s various home-cooked goodies into the cab of the truck. “Yeah, and I know how to wield a fire ax if you get between me and the rest of that cake, buddy boy.”

  Ma laughed and headed toward the house. She stopped as Daniel slid into the driver’s seat of the pickup. “Don’t forget, Daniel. You need to ask Kimberly.”

  His momentary lightheartedness evaporated. Now the question of the promise to Miriam niggled at him.

  It had been hard enough to keep his mouth shut when Kimberly and Marissa were staying at the hotel.

  How could he resist Kimberly’s pleas if she was under the same roof 24/7?

  * * *

  KIMBERLY STEPPED GINGERLY through a maze of bent fenders, rusted-out bumpers and even a grease-covered engine block halfheartedly covered in a blue tarp. She knocked
on the jamb of the big sliding metal door that was ajar just wide enough for her to slip through sideways.

  “Hello? Mr. Hicks? Anybody here?”

  Her words fell unanswered into the dim interior of the shop. Unease rattled through her. Hicks’s Towing Yard was on the outskirts of town, and it looked as though the owner supplemented his towing business with a junkyard.

  But she’d tried the other two tow companies. Both had been friendly and helpful—something that, based on Tim’s broad hint, told her they were telling the truth when they said they hadn’t responded to a call on the Fourth of July twelve years ago.

  From behind a stack of car doors came a low guttural growl. Kimberly’s heart thudded in her chest, and she pivoted slowly around. Junkyards meant junkyard dogs—was she about to have her throat ripped out?

  “Nice doggy,” she said in a shaky voice. “Nice doggy.”

  The growl came again, this time louder. Her knees nearly turned to water. Usually she wasn’t afraid of strange dogs—but usually their owners were nearby.

  “Mr. Hicks?” she called out again. “Mr. Hicks! Anybody!”

  “Well, don’t get your knickers in a knot.” The surly reply couldn’t have sounded sweeter than a lullaby. “A body’s got to have a chance to get to you.”

  A slight man in a grease-stained uniform appeared from behind a pile of doors. The uniform shirt opened over a T-shirt equally smudged with grime, and the warm summer breeze made the man’s wild, unkempt white hair stand up straight.

  The growl sounded again, followed by a protesting bark so deep it evoked images of wild animals. “Uh, uh, can you call off your dog?”

  “My dog? What dog?”

  Now the barking grew louder, more fierce, and Hicks frowned. “Oh, that,” he muttered.

  He pushed by her and slapped hard on the frame of the door. The dog’s bark squawked in midroar and fell silent. Hicks came back outside. “Don’t fool with a real dog. Takes too much money to feed ’em. You come to pick up a car what got towed?”

  “Er, no.” This fellow certainly fit the bill as the grouchiest tow-truck operator in town. But Kimberly wasn’t at all certain he’d have maintained records of vehicles he’d towed five minutes ago, much less more than a decade past. “My name is Kimberly Singleton. Do you have a minute?”