Surrender to Love

by Adrianne Byrd

  Bobbi’s eyes recaptured their earlier spark. “Banana splits?”

  “You got it.” He tugged her pigtail, then looked over at Robin. “You want to join us?”

  Robin shrugged again, but Carson could see that she wanted to go.

  “I’ll tell you what—I’ll call over to the inn and let your mother know where we’re going. How about that?”

  Robin pretended to mull the proposal over. “Okay.”

  “All right. Banana splits, here we come.” Carson clapped his hands together.

  Bobbi moved over to Robin. “Why didn’t you tell me that you like football? Maybe we can get a game started with the boys tomorrow. I usually play with Mickey and his friends. We’re always looking for another player. You are a good player, aren’t you?”

  A confident smile curved Robin’s lips. “The best.”

  Tony and his small team, special agents Walt Pittman, Larry Evans and Virginia Jacobson, spent the rest of the day interviewing eyewitnesses to the Perimeter Mall shootings a second time, but Tony felt they weren’t getting anywhere. Tony’s instincts told him that he was asking the wrong questions. They needed to find out more about David Mercer and what alias he was living under in Atlanta.

  David Mercer’s name, as well as an old photograph, was given to the press. The game plan was to have the information flashed on the local news in hopes of someone coming forward.

  “I still say that we don’t have any proof that the shootings have anything to do with the Mercer brothers. He could have just as easily been an innocent bystander as was Newman.”

  Larry removed his shades from his breast pocket and slid them over his eyes before he walked out of the mall and into the day’s bright sun. “You don’t believe that any more than I do,” he said simply. “It’s too coincidental.”

  Tony also retrieved his shades as he thought about it. “No, I guess you’re right.”

  Larry thought for a moment. “You know what bugs me?”

  “What’s that?”

  “We have a handful of witnesses who saw Eric Mercer talking on a cell phone, but we haven’t recovered a cell phone.”

  Tony had thought about that as well. “Walt says he doesn’t remember the guy on a cell phone.”

  “Maybe he forgot.”

  “Maybe.” Tony glanced over at Pittman, who was diligently interviewing more employees at the food court.

  “I’ll brief Regis later over everything we’ve learned here. How about right now we grab something to eat?”

  “Why wasn’t there a wallet on Mercer?” Tony jerked toward Larry as the thought occurred to him.

  “Beats me. Maybe he didn’t carry one.” Larry shrugged. “Or maybe it’s with the missing cell phone.”

  Tony moved down the cement stairs while shaking his head. “I don’t buy it. Do you ever go anywhere without your wallet?”

  “Come on, Tony. Up until yesterday the man was on the FBI’s Most Wanted list. He wasn’t going to walk around advertising who he was.”

  “Larry, think. I’m not saying that he had his real name in the wallet, but surely he still had some type of ID under an alias. He was in a mall, for Pete’s sake. How was he going to buy anything—a shirt, a pair of pants, or even something from the food court? Who goes to a mall without a wallet? Don’t get me wrong—I wish my fiancée did every once in a while, but realistically, who does that?”

  Larry laughed. “Have a case of the credit-card blues?”

  “Who doesn’t? But let’s be serious for a moment. Someone took Mercer’s wallet. I’m willing to bet money on it,” Tony said with conviction.

  Larry opened the door to their car and slid in behind the steering wheel. He waited until Tony got in on the passenger side. “Are you looking to be a profiler in your next life?”

  “It’s killing you to admit that I may be right on this, isn’t it?”

  Larry started the car and fiddled with the console’s buttons to get the air conditioner revved to full blast. “Okay, you may be right. But what does that tell us?”

  “You tell me.”

  Larry thought about it. “It could confirm that if the other victims have their wallets then Mercer was the target yesterday.”

  Tony smiled. “I was right. You are a smart boy.”

  “How sick is she?” Carson asked, frowning into the phone. He wiped his furrowed brow and squinted at Robin through the glass of his office door.

  “Well, it’s hard to tell at the moment,” Lilly said. “I’m sure standing out in that dreadful storm last night has finally caught up with her. I just finished spooning her chicken soup and gave her something for the fever she was running. She’s sleeping right now. I’m sure in a couple of hours she’ll be right as rain. No pun intended.” Lilly chuckled.

  “Should I call Dr. Lockhart? I’m sure that he’ll be more than willing—”

  “That won’t be necessary. I have everything under control here. If you want to help, then keep Robin occupied. The last thing we need is for her to be worried about her mother. You just go ahead and take the girls out for their ice cream.”

  “But—”

  “No buts about it. By the time you guys get back here, her mother should be feeling much better. You mark my words.”

  It was useless to argue. Carson reluctantly agreed to keep Robin occupied for a couple of hours, though he really wanted to call the doctor.

  “All right, then,” Lilly said. “I’ll see you back here in time for dinner. Okay?”

  Carson hesitated.

  “Okay?” she asked again.

  “Okay,” he finally said.

  He hung up the phone and shook his head. Lilly had to be the most stubborn woman he knew. Stepping out of his office, he managed to suppress his troubled thoughts and donned a cheerful smile.

  “All right. Who’s ready for ice cream?”

  Robin held Mr. Webber’s hand and Bobbi rode on his shoulders while they walked to a place called Auntie Bertie’s Ice Cream Shop. The place was packed. Robin recognized many of the faces from the ball game, and guessed that this was a fairly popular hangout after the games.

  “So what would you like, Miss Robin?”

  She shrugged, feeling a bit uncomfortable with having Mr. Webber buy her anything. “I guess whatever you guys are having.”

  “Great.” Carson looked up at the man behind the counter and announced their order: “Three banana splits, Harvey.”

  “You got it, Carson,” Harvey said, giving him the thumbs-up, then he leaned down over the counter to peer at Robin. “Who’s the new lovely lady you got there?”

  Robin looked up into the man’s kind green eyes and thought that his red complexion kind of reminded her of a clown’s.

  Carson also looked down at her with a wide smile, and Robin impulsively smiled back. “This little lady is Miss Robin. Robin, this is Harvey. No need to be formal around him. He likes being called Harvey.”

  “Hello,” she said, smiling.

  “Hello there.”

  “She and her mother are just passing through. They’re staying over at Lilly’s place for a few days.”

  “Is that right? Well, welcome to Moreland.” He returned his attention to Carson. “If the mother is as pretty as she is, the men in this town are in trouble, I can tell you that much.”

  “Then consider yourself forewarned,” Carson said with an encouraging nod.

  Harvey’s head reeled back with the force of his hearty laugh, and Robin wasn’t quite sure that she understood what was so funny.

  A few minutes later, Robin, Bobbi and Carson managed to find an empty table to enjoy their desserts.

  Carson listened attentively as his daughter recounted every play leading to her team’s victory. Of course, her renditions seemed more suspenseful and colorful than what Robin remembered, but what the hey?

  By the end of the story, Carson applauded and announced to the crowd in the ice-cream shop that his daughter had won the game.

  Everyone in the shop stood a
nd applauded while the other players from the Wildcats team chanted her name.

  The immodest Bobbi climbed up onto her chair and made a dramatic bow to the crowd.

  The cheers escalated.

  Robin shook her head and laughed as she watched. She was really beginning to like Moreland.

  Julia tossed and turned. She still felt hot—unbearably hot. David’s rough features materialized in her head, and a combination of sadness and fear seized her. The emotions confused her. When had she stopped loving her husband? And when had she learned to fear him?

  She couldn’t remember.

  What do you need to get at the mall? David’s unmistakable voice questioned her.

  “It won’t take long,” Julia mumbled against the pillow as her mind took her back….

  “Mommy, Mommy, wake up.” Robin’s voice penetrated Julia’s dream, and she opened her eyes to see the glowing red numbers on the digital clock. She blinked in surprise and struggled to pull herself up in bed. “It can’t be five o’clock.” She clutched at her throat, not believing that the deep, raspy voice she heard was her own.

  “Mommy, are you all right?”

  Julia turned toward her daughter’s worried expression and managed to nod, but was uncertain whether it was the truth.

  “I’m going to go get you some more water,” she announced, grabbing the glass pitcher on the nightstand. “Ms. Lilly said to make sure that you get plenty of water.”

  Julia watched her leave. After a few minutes had passed, she managed to push herself out of bed, but her balance was weak at best.

  The bedroom door opened, and Julia glanced up in time to see her daughter enter, carrying a tray of food and the pitcher of water. “Mommy, what are you doing?” She closed the door carefully. “Ms. Lilly said you shouldn’t get out of bed.”

  “Robin, sweetheart.” A wave of relief swept through her. “Come and help Mommy to the bathroom.”

  “You’ve been asleep all day.” Robin crossed over to the bed to set the tray down before rushing over to her mother. “You’re not sick anymore?”

  Julia nearly crumbled at the look of genuine concern on her daughter’s face. “Let’s just say that I’m feeling a lot better.”

  “Were you sick because you were out in the rain for so long, like Ms. Lilly said?”

  “That’s a good possibility.” With Robin’s help, she made it to the bathroom, where she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and actually gasped in horror.

  “Baby, can you please bring me something to change into from out of the suitcase? Mommy is going to take a shower and try to take her place among the living.”

  Her daughter replied with a well-mannered “Yes, ma’am.”

  It took a bit of work, but after she’d showered and dressed, she was relieved by the transformation. She was actually ready to join the human race.

  “Why did you cut your hair yesterday, Mommy?” Robin asked, watching her from the doorway.

  Julia flinched, then quickly composed herself while flashing her daughter another smile. “I guess I was just ready for a change.” She ran her fingers through her short hair. “You don’t like it?”

  Robin cocked her head while evaluating her. “It’s nice. I have to get used to it, though.”

  “That makes two of us.” Julia sighed. “I guess we need to locate Mr. Webber and see about our car.” She started to move away from the mirror when her legs threatened to give out again.

  “It’s not fixed yet,” Robin informed her, missing her mother’s moment of weakness. “He said that something’s wrong with the transition.”

  “You mean transmission?”

  Robin nodded.

  Julia’s heart sank beneath a wave of disbelief. “Please say we’re not stuck out here in Mayberry.”

  Her daughter frowned. “Should we call David and tell him where we are? Maybe he can bring us the other car.”

  Julia wished she could tell her that that wasn’t possible. There were so many things she needed to tell her daughter. With a will she thought she no longer possessed, she defeated a rush of tears and avoided her daughter’s gaze.

  “That’s not possible, sweetie, but I’ll see what I can do to get us out of here.”

  Robin shrugged. “It’s not so bad here. I met a lot of kids today.”

  “Oh?” Julia welcomed the change in topic as she moved out of the bathroom and back over to the bed. She eyed the tray of food with curiosity.

  “Yeah. I went to a baseball game and watched Bobbi pitch. She’s pretty good, but she can be a little bossy though.”

  “Bobbi’s a girl?”

  “Well, it’s actually Barbara, but she doesn’t like it too much. I think she wishes that she was a boy.”

  “Uh-huh.” Julia pinched off a piece of corn bread, surprised to see it was mixed with crackling. The rest of the plate consisted of collard greens, yams, macaroni and cheese and ribs. The food brought a smile to her face, and memories of her grandmother’s home cooking to her mind.

  “But Mr. Webber was really nice. After the game he took us both for banana splits.”

  “That was awfully nice of him.”

  Robin smiled. “Yeah, he’s real nice.”

  “How is she feeling now?” Carson asked Lilly as he carried in an armful of groceries.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t been up to check on her since the last time you asked me, which I believe was five minutes ago.”

  “Oh.”

  Lilly laughed as she started shelving items. “But if it makes you feel any better, Robin came down a moment ago and said that her mother was awake. I sent some food up with her. I’ll go and check in on her in a few.”

  He nodded. “You still don’t think that we should send for Dr. Lockhart?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m a better doctor than Lockhart. Besides, doesn’t he have cataracts in both eyes now?”

  “I thought he was getting those removed.”

  She shook her head. “This town definitely needs a new doctor. And Lockhart needs to retire.”

  “But—”

  “Since when have you had problems with my doctoring skills?”

  “Since you started declaring that you have them, Dr. Roberts.”

  “All right.” She waved a finger at him. “You remember that the next time you catch a cold and you’re over here whining to be spoon-fed chicken soup.”

  “Point taken.” He reached into one of the bags and started to hand her canned goods. “So what do you think about them?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean in general. What do you think?”

  “Uh, I don’t know. They seem nice, however elusive, but then again we’re strangers to them.”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” he said absently.

  Lilly’s hands fell to her hips. “What’s with you and all these questions?”

  Carson shrugged, but averted his gaze. “Nothing. I just was curious about what you thought of them, that’s all.”

  “Uh-huh. If you’re interested, I suggest that you don’t let that Sheri Bigbottom know about it.”

  “For the millionth time, Lilly, it’s Higginbotham.”

  “I call it like I see it.”

  He laughed.

  “You can laugh if you want to. But you’d better watch your step. That woman is bound and determined to get your butt in front of a preacher. And if I were a betting woman I’d say she’ll do it, too.”

  “Me and Sheri? I don’t think so.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with her? She’s pretty and…” She drew a blank. “Well, she’s pretty.”

  “If I were looking for a wife, which I’m not, I’d want her for more than her looks.”

  It was Lilly’s turn to shrug.

  “Besides,” he added, “Karen is kind of a tough act to follow.”

  Their eyes met and they shared an awkward smile.

  “You know, Bobbi’s growing to be more like her mother every day,” he said.

  “Her curveb
all?”

  He laughed. “I never could hit that darn thing.”

  “That’s because you were a lousy baseball player.”

  “I don’t remember you qualifying for Player of the Year.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. You have a lousy memory, too,” Lilly joked, then ducked from his lunging hands.

  “I’ll get you back for that one,” he warned playfully, then quickly turned serious. “You know, I don’t think that Bobbi and I would have been able to get through the past couple of years without you. You’ve been wonderful.”

  She only nodded as her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “You know, she would want you to remarry.”

  Carson’s heart squeezed as an instant image of his late wife surfaced, startling him with its clarity. “That may be so, but you only love like that once. I’d be a fool to think that it could happen again.”

  Chapter 8

  Julia and Robin finished the tray of food that Lilly had prepared for them. Neither talked about or speculated on how long they’d have to stay in Moreland, but the question was never too far from Julia’s mind.

  While she ran her daughter’s bathwater, Robin replayed the day she had had at the ball game. The more Robin talked about Bobbi, the more intrigued Julia became by the little girl.

  She’d also noticed that Robin hadn’t asked her about David. No doubt she wouldn’t win any Mother of the Year awards on how she handled this sticky situation. A small part of her was convinced that this was neither the time nor the place to have this heart-to-heart talk, mainly because she wasn’t prepared for it.

  After she’d finished with the water, she laid out towels and a pair of pajamas for her daughter.

  “Are you okay, Mama?” Robin asked, peering up at her.

  Julia blinked and shook off her troubled thoughts. She realized then that she’d stopped listening to her daughter. “I’m just fine. Don’t worry about me. Why don’t you go ahead and take your bath while I return our tray to Ms. Lilly and see if I can talk to Mr. Webber about our car.”

  “All right.” Robin yawned. “You know, we forgot to pack some of my books for bedtime stories.”