by Leona Karr
“Thank the Lord,” she murmured. Then she drew back, frowned, and shaking a finger at him, she scolded him for being such a bad boy. “You need the seat of your pants warmed, that’s what. Running off like that. Don’t you ever take one step out of this apartment by yourself again. Do you understand? All kinds of bad things can happen to kids running around loose.” At Timmy’s sudden pallor, she hugged him again. “But you’re back safe and sound. That’s all that matters now.”
“I promised Timmy some milk and cookies, Cora. Could you bring some into the den?” Kerri didn’t want the baby-sitter influencing the boy’s attitude before they had a chance to pump Timmy for information.
“Sure thing. I’ve got the little ones down for a nap.”
Kerri took Timmy’s hand and led the way into Mark’s den.
“You want to put this back for me? I think you know where it belongs.” Mark took the autographed ball out of his pocket.
Guilt brought a rise of color into Timmy’s peaked face as Mark handed him the baseball. Longing was in the boy’s every move as he carefully he put the ball back on its stand and replaced the glass cover.
“I’ll get you another ball to play with, Timmy,” Mark promised. “This one is kinda special to me.” He made the admission with a slight sense of embarrassment because he didn’t want Kerri to think he was one of those sport nuts who organized their whole life around some team. Baseball had always been his pick of sports, and he’d been financially involved in bringing Denver’s first major league baseball team, the Rockies, here. When he’d been given the autographed ball as a gesture of appreciation after their first successful season, he’d been delighted. Supporting the Colorado team was a matter of pride and pleasure, and the ball meant something personal to him. He would have hated to lose it.
“A real ball?” Timmy prodded. “Not a baby rubber one.”
“I promise you it will be a real baseball, Timmy.”
The sudden joy in his childish grin brought a strange tightening in Mark’s chest. He remembered the Christmas that his first baseball, bat and mitt had been under the Christmas tree. Even though there had been snow all over the ground, he’d insisted on going outdoors to play catch with his father and his younger brother. The three of them had had a wonderful time, yelling and running and falling down in the snow. The memory made him realize how different his upbringing must have been from this small boy’s. How lucky he himself had been to have a stable and loving family. Mark couldn’t imagine his mother abandoning him for even a moment. A protective anger surged through him and he had trouble keeping his thoughts about the kid’s mother to himself. When they caught up with her, he’d have plenty to say.
Kerri made a quick call to her brother-in-law, the policeman. “The lost is found, Harry.”
“Great. Where’d you find him?”
“Wandering around Coors Field. I’ll fill you in tonight. Thanks.”
“No problem. Glad to be of help.”
Cora brought in a glass of milk for Timmy and a plate of cookies. Mark offered Kerri a drink from a small bar, but she refused. Sitting beside Timmy on the leather couch, she nibbled on a cookie while Mark plopped down in a nearby recliner and sipped his Scotch and water. She could tell that he was impatient to begin the questioning, but she took her time and waited until Timmy was nearly finished with his snack before she asked casually, “Timmy, did you see someone you know at the ballpark?”
He blinked at her, a white ring of milk around his mouth and a half-eaten cookie in his suddenly still hand. He swallowed hard and didn’t answer.
“Who was it, Timmy?” she insisted, not giving him the chance to deny that he’d seen someone. “You can tell me.”
His hand tightened over the cookie, crushing it into pieces and he hunched down in the soft cushion as if trying to make himself smaller.
“It’s all right, Timmy.” Kerri tenderly put an arm around his fragile shoulders and drew the child closer. Resting her head against his, she coaxed softly. “What is his name? Who did you see?”
His pale lips moved and a strangled name came out in a whisper, too low for her to hear.
“Who?” She coaxed, gently stroking his tousled hair and holding her own breath.
“Dirk.”
Not certain that she’d heard correctly, she repeated the name. “Dirk?”
He nodded. The child’s slender shoulders stiffened, and he pressed closer to Kerri’s side.
“You saw Dirk? At the ballpark?”
He nodded again, more vigorously this time.
“And you don’t like Dirk,” she said evenly, not as a question but as a statement. “Why not?”
The haunted look was back in his face, and his eyes fled to the doorway as if he expected the dreaded Dirk to appear any second.
“You can tell me, honey. Why are you frightened of this man, Dirk.”
Timmy raised a pleading face to Kerri, “He thinks me and Patti and Pammy ought to be drowned in the river…like…like baby kittens.” His lips quivered as he whimpered, “You won’t let him, will you? You won’t let him?”
Mark growled an oath, cursing the heartless man that had put such fear into the child. “Nobody’s going to throw you in any river,” Mark said angrily. “And if he shows up here, I’ll take care of him in short order.” His voice was strident and his face flushed.
“He’s coming after me. I saw him. I saw him,” Timmy wailed.
Mark scowled. Who in the hell was this guy, Dirk? And what was he doing sneaking around, frightening a little boy to death—if it really was the same guy? It was possible that Timmy had mistaken a perfect stranger for the man who had obviously put the fear of God in him.
When Kerri sent Mark a warning glance, he forced himself to shut up. He knew that he should let her handle the child, so he restrained himself from asking a legion of questions that needed answering. Nobody was going to hurt this kid. Nobody.
Kerri cuddled Timmy for several minutes, then she asked gently, “Is Dirk a friend of your mother’s?”
Timmy choked, “No.”
“Not a friend? Just someone she knows?”
An unreadable expression crossed his face, his mouth puckered as if trying to hold back tears.
“Can you tell us who knows Dirk?”
He nodded solemnly and stretched out his little arm, pointing to a picture on the wall of Mark standing with his brother. “Him.”
For a weighted moment, neither Kerri nor Mark said anything. Utterly confused, they looked at Timmy, back at the picture, and then Mark left his chair, took the photograph down from the wall and handed it to the boy. He pointed at his brother, Jason. “This man knows Dirk?”
Timmy nodded.
Mark’s astonishment was evident in his raised voice. “Are you sure?”
The child turned his head and buried his face against Kerri’s chest, his tiny body clinging to hers. Kerri bent her head and kissed his wet cheek. “It’s all right, honey. No more questions.” She sent a warning look at Mark.
He nodded, sorry that his raised voice had scared the boy. His impatience to know how his brother was connected to the man that held such terror for Timmy was so strong that it was a struggle to keep his mouth shut. Bewildering questions stabbed at him. Why had the boy connected the man with his brother? When in the two months that Jason had been married to Ardie, had Timmy been frightened by this man, Dirk? And why had he been close enough to the children to scare Timmy with the threat of drowning him?
Kerri tenderly cupped his little chin and raised up his tear-smeared face. “It’s okay, Timmy. You’ve been a good boy. So good, I think I ought to read you a story. Would you like that?” At his slight nod, she said, “Good, let’s go find a book.”
After they left, Mark stood for a long moment, staring at the photograph in his hand. He hadn’t really looked at it for a long time, but neither he nor his brother had changed much since it had been taken five years ago. The camera had always liked Jason, with his ready smile and rela
xed stance that made him seem perfectly at ease. He was a head shorter than Mark, and usually thirty pounds heavier, but the family resemblance was there, same light brown hair, darker eyebrows, and firm mouth and chin. In looks, people might have taken them for brothers, but never in personality, Mark admitted. Jason had been easygoing, uncomplicated, and willing to let his older brother handle the nitty-gritty demands of their partnership. There had been times when Mark wished he was more like his brother—always going with the flow, and never looking too far ahead. Jason’s personal life was always in a state of flux, and in the beginning Mark had worried about his brother’s fouled-up marriages and romantic relationships, but he’d gotten over trying to understand what was going on in his brother’s personal life. Now he wished he’d kept in closer contact. What was the connection between Jason and the callous man who made threats about a little boy like Timmy?
Mark put the photograph back on the wall, fixed himself a stronger drink and tried his best to put some sense and order into the current tangle of kids, people and dire questions.
When Kerri came back, she said, “He’s asleep. I don’t think we ought to put any more pressure on him for the moment. He’s had enough trauma today for one little boy.” She glanced at her watch. “I need to get back to the office and get some more wheels spinning.”
Mark tried not to show his irritation. He’d been waiting for her to come back so they could discuss this latest complication, and here she was, ready to take off without any attempt to clarify the situation. His tone was brisk. “You’re not even going to ask me about Jason and why the kid pointed him out as a friend of this bastard, Dirk?”
Her forehead creased in a slight frown. “From your obvious astonishment, I assumed that you didn’t have the vaguest idea. I’m sorry, Mark. Have you thought of something?”
“Not a damn thing!” he snapped.
A hint of a smile curved her lips. “Frustrating, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know how you can be so…so blasé.”
“If by blasé, you mean unconcerned, you’re quite wrong. I don’t know what this incident means, or how it fits into the picture of the children’s mother disappearing, but I’m confident that in time we’ll know.”
“In time!” he sputtered. “We’ve got an impossible situation here. We need to do something now.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.” He gave an impatient gesture with his hand. “Finding people is your business, not mine.”
“Then why don’t you let me handle it as I think best?”
He knew when he’d been checkmated. He backed off, mumbling, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to come on so strong. I’m inclined to get a little aggressive when I’m worried. I just can’t make heads or tails of this thing. Do you think the kids are in any danger?”
Kerri frowned. “We’d better make sure they’re not left alone. If someone like Dirk is trying to find Ardie, who knows what could happen. We don’t have enough of the puzzle to predict anything. I’ve warned Cora to keep the doors locked and not to let anyone in. I’ll talk to my brother-in-law and see what he suggests. For the time being that’s about all we can do.”
“We could move them.”
“Where?” She eyed him steadily. “Are you thinking of turning them over to someone else? Social Services, perhaps?”
“You think I’d do that?” he asked stiffly.
“No, of course not,” she answered, instantly contrite. She had to give him credit. He’d given every indication that he’d do whatever was best for the children, and he’d rallied amazingly well for a man who was used to a smooth, well-ordered life-style. Not only had his fashionable bachelor pad been turned upside down, but his emotions as well. No telling what they would find out about his late brother. She feared that the worst was yet to come, and there was no way to protect him from any ugliness she might uncover.
“Just tell me what needs to be done,” he said quietly, returning her contemplative gaze. “I’m teachable.”
As their eyes caught, a peculiar fluttering of warmth went through her. His superbly fit body, his pervading masculine aura, and the way his strong mouth eased into a devastating smile was addictive. He moved closer to her, and for a moment she felt a longing to lean into him and experience his strong virility by being cradled in his arms. Fortunately the impulse was fleeting. Lowering her gaze, she took a step back, and thought, I’m getting as bad as Debbie.
As he walked with her into the spacious living area, the melodic chimes of the doorbell echoed through the loft. They exchanged startled expressions as if both of them had the same thought Dirk?
Mark strode to the front door, quickly slipped the lock and jerked it open with a threatening expression that quickly faded when he saw who it was.
“Oh, Ted and Lisa,” he said, surprised.
“Hey, have we come at a bad time?” his neighbor asked. “You look ready for bear.”
The attractive blond woman at Ted’s side smiled at Mark. A gold-colored dress, two inches above her knee, clung to her like Christmas wrapping. She had long legs, curvaceous hips and a bustline that could have been an ad for silicone implants. Kerri hated her on sight. “Ted was telling me you’ve got yourself a bit of a problem,” she said as her gray-green eyes flickered to Kerri and then back to Mark.
“Come in,” Mark invited with a wave of his hand, remembering his manners. Damn! He’d forgotten all about his promise to take Ted’s niece to the traveling production of Les Misérables. He’d met Lisa a couple of weeks earlier when Ted had invited a few people in to meet his visting niece from Chicago. Mark had set up the date, told his secretary to get the tickets, and then completely forgotten that the performance was tonight. He’d taken Lisa out to dinner once and had enjoyed her company but he sure wasn’t in any mood at the moment to play the gallant escort. Not with everything he had on his mind.
Ted greeted Kerri warmly. “Nice to see you again, Miss Kincaid,” he said, as if it had been more than a few hours since Mark had introduced them. “Making any progress in tracking down the missing mother? I told Lisa that Mark had hired a professional. One of the best,” Ted said in a flattering tone which did nothing to defuse Kerri’s suspicions that he’d never heard of her or her company until today.
Kerri gave him a noncommittal smile and didn’t answer. She wasn’t about to discuss any details of the case. Finders, Inc. had a reputation for complete and strict confidentiality and she intended to keep it that way. If Mark wanted to share with his neighbor what was going on, that was his business. From the closed look on Mark’s face, she doubted that he was going to satisfy Ted’s curiosity.
“Just can’t believe a woman would run off like that.” Ted said, glancing around the disheveled room with it’s baby swing, playpen, and scattered toys. “She sure didn’t do you any favors, guy. Dumping her kids on you like this.”
“You’re not going to keep them here, are you?” Lisa asked with a slight upturn of her pretty nose. “I mean, a man needs his privacy.”
The hint of a secret smile in Lisa’s eyes made Kerri wonder if the sexy niece and Mark had enjoyed some romantic trysts in his bachelor apartment. Obviously, three kids and a baby-sitter would put a crimp in any gal’s style.
“At the moment there are no plans to move them,” Mark answered evenly.
Ted groaned. “You mean, we have to put up with this racket for heaven knows how long? What if the woman doesn’t come back after them? Or Miss Kincaid can’t find her? What then?”
“We’ll have to take it as it comes,” Mark said shortly, cutting off any more discussion.
Kerri moved purposefully toward the door, and then, pausing with her hand on the doorknob, her frank, clear eyes met Mark’s. “It’s important that you let me know of any new developments here. Anything. Anything at all.”
Mark nodded, and for a moment, Kerri though he might follow her out into the hall, but Lisa said something quietly to him and laughed softly. The laughter had an intimate tone to
it.
Kerri closed the door with punctuating impatience. Some women really irked her, and Kerri readily admitted to a feminine bias against statuesque blondes who looked as if they belonged in a Lancôme ad. She wondered how much time Lisa had been spending in Mark’s apartment, and then shoved the thought away into the Not Relevant compartment. Her own relationship with Mark Richards was strictly business and she intended to keep it that way.
WHEN KERRI GOT BACK to the office, she learned that Debbie had drawn a blank on finding any marriage records for Jason P. Richards in the two most likely places for the wedding to have taken place, California and Nevada. The Vital Statistics Department in Sacramento had no record of the marriage and neither did the Division of Health-Vital Statistics in Carson City, Nevada. Kerri was disappointed because a marriage license offered valuable information about each of the parties: name, address, date and place of birth. It also gave previous marital status—married or never married—whether the last marriage ended by death, divorce or annulment and the number of previous marriages. Naturally, it also provided information about the current marriage, such as where the ceremony took place, name of the person performing the ceremony, signatures of the bride and groom and names of witnesses.
A veritable gold mine if they could just hit the vein.
Without more than just the name, Ardie, they were at a standstill in accessing other records. Once they found a record of Jason Richards’s marriage, they’d have the name of his bride. Kerri prayed it had been a legal marriage and not one of these modern livetogether arrangements. “Try all the states, if you have to,” Kerri told Debbie. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
Weary from so many unanswered questions, Kerri finally called it a day and went home. She still lived at home with her mother and grandmother, an arrangement that surprised most people. No one seemed to understand why a successful businesswoman who could afford to live anywhere in the city would be happy in the same neighborhood, the same house, the same bedroom; content with the same chaotic family living that she’d had all her life. Kerri didn’t understand it herself. It just felt right. She was happy living at home. Not that she didn’t want a home of her own, she did, but she wanted a home, not a house. A fancy address wouldn’t create what she wanted from life, which was family love, and a lot of sharing.
