Child by Chance

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  At some point he and Kent were going to have to talk about his mother. About what he knew.

  And then it hit him. What Kent knew. Not just about the affair his mother had been having, which was what he’d mentioned to Talia. Brooke had written to Alan that they’d adopted a son. He couldn’t believe he’d missed it. He’d been so busy dealing with the fact that his wife had been unfaithful to him. That she’d fallen in love with a man known for having questionable integrity. Hearing her mention Kent’s adoption hadn’t been unusual for him. They talked about it between the two of them. Hearing her mention it to her lover had hurt him—because it was more sign of her unfaithfulness to him, her sharing their secret.

  But Kent had read those letters...

  Sherman had been so poleaxed, and so tuned in to the woman at his side—who didn’t know that Kent was adopted, and so didn’t know that Kent didn’t know he was adopted...

  He’d known his son was as safe as he was probably ever going to be again, spending the night on the secure grounds of the Lemonade Stand. Truth was, he hadn’t been thinking about Kent at all.

  While looking for something to explain why Brooke would kill herself, he’d stumbled on the real explanation for Kent’s sudden change in behavior the year before.

  Oh, my God.

  Kent knew he was adopted.

  * * *

  HE HAD TO get to Kent. Had to explain. To make sure that his son knew how very much he loved him. How much of a miracle he was to him. Then. Now. Always.

  Grabbing his keys for the second time in the dark early-morning hours of that night, he made a rush for the door.

  And stopped himself.

  The more of a big deal he made of the circumstances behind’s Kent birth, the bigger they’d be to him.

  Now more than ever he had to stop. To think. The next few hours or days could affect the rest of his son’s life, depending on how he handled them. He had the chance to make all the difference. To do this completely right.

  Sherman dropped to the living-room couch, playing different scenarios in his mind. Rejecting one, then trying out another. Exhausting himself, but refusing to give up. He did this until he finally fell asleep.

  And never knew that eight o’clock came and went.

  * * *

  TALIA WAS AT work on Saturday, in the middle of her largest sale of the month—a bridal trousseau—when her phone buzzed with a call. As soon as the bride-to-be was back in the changing room, trying on yet another option for the suit she’d wear to walk from the hotel room to the limo on her way to the church the day of the wedding, she glanced at her missed call.

  Tatum.

  Motioning to Wendy, who’d just finished with a customer, she slipped outside to return her little sister’s call. Tatum knew she was at work that morning. She wouldn’t call unless it was important.

  “Tal? Oh, my God. Did you get my message?”

  “No,” she said, her heart hammering. “I didn’t waste time with voice mail. Tell me what’s going on. Is it Tanner?” Their big brother nearly ran himself ragged tending to the vineyard that had been providing for their family for almost ten years.

  “No! Listen, Tal, I wouldn’t do this like this over the phone and all, but you’re there and—”

  “What’s going on?” She tempered her response. Tatum had a tendency to be dramatic. Please, God, let that be all this was. A boyfriend crisis or some such thing...

  “It’s Kent, Talia! I wouldn’t even have known, but I was at the center this morning talking to Sara because of my date last night and...oh, it doesn’t matter. Kent and Jason ran away.”

  “What?” A couple walking into the mall stared at her. She turned her back to them and faced the brick wall that made up the exterior of the mall.

  “On the way to Sherman’s this morning. They told his mom that Jason felt like he was going to throw up and made her stop at a gas station. Then they went to the men’s room. It had an outside entrance, and she waited outside with his little sister.”

  “Slow down,” Talia said, already heading into the store for her purse. She’d lose a sale, maybe even her job. She didn’t care. “How do they know they ran away and weren’t taken?”

  “That’s the crazy part,” Tatum said. “They were lurking around the back of the gas station, sneaking away, and some girl saw them. She asked them if everything was okay and they told her their mother was out front with a car problem and they were going to get help from someone they knew down the street. She thought it was kind of odd so she went out front and found Jason’s mom, waiting for them. But by the time they went back to where the boys had been, they were nowhere to be found.”

  “But they’ve located them by now?” She had her purse and was heading out. If she saw someone on the way she’d tell them she was leaving. If not, they’d figure it out.

  “No. They just vanished into thin air. Then a little bit later Jason texted his mom. He told her not to worry and they’d be back. They just had one thing to fix.”

  “One thing to fix? What does that mean?” She was in the employee section of the parking garage.

  “I’m pretty sure it has something to do with Jason’s dad. So that Jason doesn’t have to move to San Francisco. But...anyway, Belinda, Jason’s mom, came back here and they called Sherman and when the boys didn’t show up there, he came here, too. The police have someone watching his house. But they can’t do an Amber Alert because the boys ran away—they weren’t snatched.”

  Two ten-year-olds on their own could be snatched...

  But it wasn’t likely. Not in Santa Raquel. Kids still played outside in their neighborhoods in the small coastal town. They played on the beach.

  She was in her car, starting it.

  “Did they check the beach?” she asked. “Kent loves the beach. You know how much he talks about it.”

  “I know. And they aren’t there. I think I know what’s going on, Talia.”

  “Then tell the police! Now!”

  “No, I mean I think I know what they’re doing.” The girl was frantic. Talia could hear it in her voice.

  “Tatum, if you know something you have to tell them!” They’d all paid enough for their family’s penchant for keeping secrets.

  “Listen to me!” Tatum snapped at her, getting her attention. “I’m trying to tell you something and I don’t want anyone to hear me. I’m in the bathroom.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Something is going on with the police is what I’m trying to tell you. Sherman wanted to go look for Kent and they wouldn’t let him. But listen, I was talking to Jason, and he was telling me about his dad. You know, those of us who’ve lived there, we talk sometimes and try to help one another out, and...oh, that doesn’t matter. Anyway, he was telling me how his dad used to hold them hostage.” She’d yet to take a breath. “He told his mom that his dad would kill them before he’d let anyone take them away from him.”

  Talia was heading for the freeway and hitting every damned stoplight on streets packed with Saturday tourists who didn’t know where they were going.

  “Jason said there was this cellar beneath the shed, in case of a nuclear bomb or something. He said his dad had all kinds of stuff down there. Like a gun and everything. Now here’s what I know. Everyone was frantically sending out search parties for them, afraid that they were going to do something crazy. They found out they took a bus to Jason’s old neighborhood. Which is between here and LA.” Tatum named the town.

  Talia was trembling and sick and entering the freeway.

  “I think they went to do something to Jason’s dad, Talia! That class they’re in, it’s all about not having to feel out of control. About choosing how to handle things that make you mad and—”

  “You think Jason’s dad has them in that cellar?”

  “
Yes, I do,” Tatum said. “Shoot. Someone’s coming down the hall. I know the police are all there, and no one else is supposed to be in the area. But he’s your son, Tal, and I knew you’d want to know...to do something if you could.”

  Her little sister gave her the address and though Tatum was filling her with teenage drama, Talia took the next exit off the freeway. She had no idea what she was going to do. Certainly nothing that would impede the work of the professionals.

  But her son was in danger. She couldn’t not be close to him.

  She couldn’t walk away.

  Not this time.

  * * *

  SHERMAN HAD SEEN the teenager on the periphery of the room where people had gathered to wait for news about Jason. It was very clear that these people considered themselves his family. Certainly they were Jason’s friends.

  And now some of them were Kent’s, too. He’d charmed the few people he’d met during the time he’d been attending his sessions there and claimed more admirers the night before at the movies and the ice cream social afterward.

  Then there was that girl—she’d left and was back again. He felt as though he’d met her before, but knew that he hadn’t.

  But what did he know, really? His son had been halfway to LA that morning while he’d been asleep, had been in the home of a man who’d sworn to kill before giving up his family, a man who’d followed threats with his fist—many times.

  “I’m so sorry.” Belinda came up beside him. She was dry-eyed at the moment. He admired her ability to carry on.

  “It’s not your fault.” But he was blaming her. Because he wasn’t himself. Because he was scared to death and couldn’t get control of his world.

  Not any part of it.

  He needed Talia. But he wasn’t calling her. There was nothing she could do. And...she’d said goodbye to him the night before. They both knew that. The fair and decent thing to do was let her go.

  Kent was going to be fine. The police had assured him on that score. Jason’s father had already sent Kent out and the boy would be on his way back to Santa Raquel just as soon as they’d gotten what information they could out of him regarding the situation in the house. Jason was still in there, being held hostage by his father.

  No one knew yet just what the boys had hoped to accomplish by pulling this stunt, but Sherman knew one thing.

  His boy was going to think long and hard before trying anything like it again. Kent would be lucky if he wasn’t cuffed to his father’s wrist for the rest of his life.

  Belinda was still standing there, and Sherman realized that she needed him. And that he was being a selfish prick.

  “Kent’s a smart boy,” he told the woman. “He’ll be able to tell the police whatever they need to know to get Jason out safely.”

  She nodded.

  “And Jason knows better how to handle himself since his sessions here.” He’d seen a change in the boy just in the couple of times he’d been around him.

  “He thought his father was going to be gone,” she said, her face pained as she spoke softly enough that only he could hear. “He used to work Saturday mornings. It was our safe time.”

  A family routine. He got that.

  “He said in his text that he just wanted his mitt and his signed Johnny Bench card. And the tablet my mother gave him for Christmas. It’s a cheap one, but he kept saying then he could email Kent without having to wait for his turn at the computer—my folks only have one.”

  He listened. He ground his teeth. He swayed back and forth in the sandals he’d put on with his jeans to take Talia home in the middle of the night.

  And he watched the young blonde woman across the room, looking worried, talking to no one. Watching him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  SHE FOUND THE street easily enough. Getting down it was another story. She could see the police cars forming a roadblock from a quarter of a mile away. And knew she had to get down there. One way or another, she had to be close to her son. To let him know that he wasn’t alone. To make everything okay.

  How she’d do that didn’t cross her mind at the moment.

  Getting to him was all she could think about.

  With her heart in her throat, she pulled behind a car parked in front of a nondescript white house. Forty or so people were milling around, craning their heads to see what was going on. A couple of uniformed officers held them back.

  She had to get by them. So tried just boldly walking through. She’d always heard that if you approached with confidence, as if you knew what was going on, people would leave you alone.

  “Miss? I’m sorry, miss, but you can’t go through here. You’ll have to wait back there like everyone else.”

  A camera went off. And another. A woman was talking on her phone. And she realized that some of the people in the crowd were reporters.

  “I... My mother,” she said. “She’s in that house over there.” She swung her arm haphazardly, holding back none of her worry and fear. “She’s in a wheelchair and needs her medicine. I have to be able to get to her. I promise, I’ll just go up and cut through to the backyard,” she improvised without missing a beat. Tammy’s daughter and all. “Please, sir. She just called and said she’s having an episode. I have to get her nitroglycerin for her.”

  She had no idea where she’d come up with that.

  Even more shocking was that it worked. The man let her pass. And several cameras went off, catching her as she acted on her lie. Was she breaking the law? She didn’t know. And didn’t care, either.

  Hurrying up the yard two houses down, she prayed there was no fence in the backyard that would prevent her from moving farther down the street. There was a fence. She climbed it in her dress pants and heels. Ran through the yard and scaled the fence on the other side, as well.

  Pole dancing might look like easy work, but it took a lot of training and a hell of a lot of physical strength. For once in her life she was glad for the experience.

  Once she’d made it past the watchful eye of the officers holding the small crowd at bay, Talia moved more easily, skirting a couple more fences, until she was only a door or two down from where the recovery team was gathered.

  SWAT team? Bomb squad? She couldn’t be sure. She just knew their uniforms were different.

  And that was where she stopped—two doors down. Watching the team that was surrounding the house where her son and his friend were obviously being held. Just like Tatum had feared.

  If there was anything she could do, if Kent managed to escape or someone brought him out, she’d be there. She just had to be able to see him. To know that he was okay.

  Her little sister had steered her right.

  Again.

  * * *

  LILA MCDANIELS CALLED OUT to Belinda, taking the woman over to speak quietly with an officer on the telephone. Sherman watched. And knew that he couldn’t lay any blame at the battered woman’s door. She’d trusted their boys when they’d told her Jason was sick. He’d have done the same.

  She was paying a price far worse than any he’d ever paid. Had been doing so for years, by the sound of things.

  A couple of women smiled at him. Employees, he could tell by their shirts, but beyond that he didn’t know who they were.

  There was still no word that Kent was on his way to the Lemonade Stand. He had no idea when he could take his son home.

  The blonde teenager had taken a seat on a couch by the door. As though she needed to be ready to bolt. She’d looked at her cell phone no less than ten times while he’d been talking to Belinda.

  Sherman moved closer to her. He suspected who she might be. Talia’s little sister, Tatum, had sessions at the Stand. She’d befriended his son. The blonde was about Tatum’s age. And was clearly agitated.

  Just as he drew near enough to speak to
her Belinda was back. “There’s been some kind of explosion,” she said softly. “From inside the house. Someone tried to breach it from the back and—”

  It was all she got out before the teenager jumped up, crying, “No! No! Oh, my God, no!”

  Lila and Sara were there immediately, flanking her on either side.

  “Tatum? What is it, sweetie? What’s wrong?” Sara asked. Lila guided her back to the couch.

  She was Talia’s sister!

  Sherman moved closer.

  “Oh, my God.” The girl’s wail chilled him and he stood there, completely helpless but feeling as though he should be taking action. “Call Tanner.” Tatum was crying now. “Please, someone call Tanner.”

  Sara nodded at Lila, who slipped away, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket.

  “Tatum.” Sara’s voice was more firm than he’d ever heard it before. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “It’s Talia!” she said, sobbing as she looked at Sara. “She’s probably the one who breached the back of the house.”

  The therapist looked as confused as Sherman felt.

  “Talia?” Sara asked, while Sherman, unable to stay away, sat down next to the girl. Tatum glanced his way, but other than that didn’t acknowledge that she was aware anyone else was sitting there.

  “Yes,” Tatum said. “I called her. From the bathroom.”

  “She’s at work in LA today,” Sherman said without thinking.

  The girl looked at him. “I know. But I knew she’d want to know about Kent. She left work and was going to the house.”

  “How’d she know where to go?” Sara asked with a glance at Sherman over the girl’s head.

  “I gave her the address,” she said. “I heard Belinda tell the police.”

  “You’re telling me that Talia was going to the house to break into the middle of hostage negotiations?” Sherman wasn’t a player here.

  But he couldn’t just sit there and calmly take any more. Not only did nothing make sense, it was now bordering on ludicrous.