The Virgin and the Kingpin

by Allyson Lindt

  “No. Mercy is a good excuse, but this has always been about you.” Until he said the words, he didn’t realize how true they were.

  The corners of her eyes tugged up. “I figured, after everything, you’d hate me.”

  “I was a little pissed off. Wounded. Really fucking horny. One makes the other two worse, but I’ve had time to cool down.”

  “Then you’re here for sex stuff?”

  Despite being broken hearted and bummed out, she was still her. Andrew liked that. “I’m not ruling it out, but I’m here for you. Besides, I stole your brother-in-law’s credit card. Figured we’d go shopping.”

  “No, you didn’t.” This smile came with a tiny laugh, making the joke worth it.

  “Well, no. But think of all the potential there. We could have an afternoon mall-montage, like in Clueless.”

  Her smile grew. “You mean that old movie about the rich girl who realizes life is about more than money and popularity contests? The scene where she’s hitting on the sexy guy until she realizes he’s into guys more than her? Oh heck. My life is a stupid nineties teen movie.”

  “Old. Pfft. Lunch?” He ignored the comment about the sexy guy on purpose. Correcting her—saying she was without a question the only person he’d fantasized about in over a week—would be a bad idea. Mercy had one thing right. He wasn’t relationship material.

  She opened the door wider. “I have to make a couple more calls. I’m updating my contact information with dance studios. Do you have time to wait?”

  “I’ve got the entire afternoon.” He joined her inside. It was good she hadn’t given up on her dancing. He followed her into the study.

  She dropped into a chair. “Ten minutes, tops.”

  “Take your time. Really.” He pulled up a seat, flipped it back toward her to straddle it, and rested his chin on the back. “I’ll sit here and watch. Nothing creepy.” This time he got a real laugh from her. Perfect.

  “Not creepy at all.” She turned her attention back to the computer and the cordless phone next to it.

  Despite the joke, Andrew didn’t know what to do with his time. He tripped his gaze around the room, glancing over a wall of leather-bound books he suspected no one had read in years, an antique-looking globe that was probably only a couple decades old, and a crystal brandy set. Cliché.

  He turned back to Susan. Definitely the best view in the room. The way she chewed on her lip when she was focused—the twitches that flew across her face as she poured herself into the conversation... She had to be hurting inside, but it vanished when she dove into a call and started chatting.

  She looked up as she disconnected, and pink spread across her cheeks. “I didn’t think you were actually going to stare.”

  “The scenery is good.” He closed his eyes. “Better?”

  “Sure. Why not,” she said. When he looked again, she was back on the phone, but glancing at him every few seconds. “Hi, this is Susan Rice. We talked last night.” Her tone went from playful to chipper and professional in a breath. “I’m sorry to bother you during your work day, but I wanted to get you my updated contact information and make sure the timing was still good for our appointment.” Her expression melted. “I see. May I ask why?” A scowl moved in, twisting her mouth and painting lines across her forehead. “No. I understand... Of course not. This is what you have to do. Thank you anyway for your time.”

  Susan pressed a button on the phone, then set it on the desk. She took a deep breath. “God-damn-asshole-fucking-son-of-a-bitch-bastard. Fuck.” She dropped her head into her hands.

  “That good, huh?” He didn’t have anything better. Not after an outburst like that.

  Her shoulders shook, and she rubbed her face several times before looking up. “Grace got a call from my father’s charitable foundation this morning. They’re reevaluating how to best spend their donations next year, and... My freaking dad.”

  Andrew knew how the thought ended. Whatever conversation transpired between this Grace and Dean Rice this morning made it clear that hiring Susan would impact those donations as they related to Ballet West. He had much stronger language for the situation than she’d used, and he regretted more that he didn’t stick around long enough last night to throw that punch.

  Chapter Twenty

  It didn’t matter how deep into the recesses of his brain Andrew reached, he couldn’t find a witty story or clever joke or sexy anecdote for the situation. Susan insisted she wanted to join him for lunch, that it was miles better than being stuck in the house, alone with her thoughts.

  Now she sat across from him, picking at her pasta, and not eating anything.

  “It’s true, there are other options.” She stabbed a noodle. “I haven’t exhausted my Round One.” She speared a piece of chicken. “But this chance was so good, and—” She dropped her fork, and it clattered to the plate. “Why is he doing this? What did I do wrong?”

  Andrew didn’t want to filter his thoughts. It wasn’t a priority for him under normal circumstances, and this was anything but. However, he had a feeling he’s a vile old man who hates anyone who isn’t like him was the wrong answer. He didn’t know how to approach this. “You didn’t do anything wrong. If he can’t accept that, it’s not your fault.”

  That drew a flash of a smile that faded in an instant.

  Andrew had the waiter box up the rest of Susan’s lunch, paid, then pulled her to her feet. “Come on,” he said.

  “I don’t think I’m up for a mall montage, if that’s where we’re going.” She didn’t withdraw her hand from his as they walked toward the parking lot.

  He intertwined their fingers. “It’s not. I’m not taking you shopping unless I get to help you try on clothes.”

  “You have to wait until tomorrow for that.” She peeked up at him through her lashes.

  “Why tomorrow?”

  “I figure I’ll be all cured and happy again by then. Sleep and chocolate fix everything, don’t they?”

  “I think that’s exactly how it works.” He wouldn’t call her on the false cheer. A genuine hope lingered underneath, and that was a nice change. “I’m going to kidnap you for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Unless you have objections.”

  “I get a say in my own kidnapping? Seems dangerous. No objections.”

  He drove along one of the back roads, twisting and winding toward the summit—a location he discovered a couple trips ago that always seemed to be deserted. She probably saw views like it all the time, growing up, but he thought it was stunning, and it would do her some good to get away from everything for a few hours. They didn’t say much on the half-hour drive. Each time he glanced at her, she was staring out the window, the glass reflecting her sad expression.

  He parked a few feet from the main road, and took her hand when she hopped from the SUV. Snow-covered trees stretched out behind them, and a guardrail separated the road from a several-hundred-foot drop.

  Susan made her way to the edge and looked down. A soft gasp floated from her. “It’s gorgeous. I didn’t know a spot like this existed.” She spun, to see more of the landscape, never untangling her fingers from his. Her awe was contagious. Nearly tangible.

  “You’ve never been up here?” he asked.

  “No. I love it.” A sharp gust of wind tore through the afternoon, and she shivered.

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back into his chest, not realizing what he’d done until he held her close. Didn’t matter. He wasn’t interested in letting go. Especially when she leaned more weight into him.

  “I was driving. I stumbled on it.” He rested his chin on her shoulder and kept his voice low. His phone rang, shattering the mood. It was Kandace. “I should get this.”

  “It’s fine.” Susan took a few steps back. Some of the lines had vanished from around her eyes and mouth, and her voice was lighter than earlier.

  “Hey, sis.”

  “Oh God. I’m so glad you’re there. Lucas is missing.”

  The bottom
dropped from Andrew’s world. It wasn’t just the words, but her panicked tone. “Missing, how? When?”

  “He stayed at a friend’s last night after therapy. I got a text from him, saying he was there, and another this morning, checking in. But the school called, and he never showed up. His friend’s mother says he was gone before she woke up. His friend said he left in the middle of the night, crying, but he didn’t want to wake up his parents, because he was scared they’d be mad, so he didn’t tell them until after school.”

  Jesus. Andrew rested against the SUV, thoughts spinning out of control. “It’s a fluke. He’s somewhere safe, and his phone is dead. What did the cops say?” He didn’t have to ask if she called them.

  “They’re asking questions. Have a current picture. He’s only ten. They just left to start looking, and I’m going to gather everyone in the neighborhood. I hope you’re right and he’s someplace I haven’t thought of.”

  “I’ll be there in an hour. Forty-five minutes if I punch it. Call me if anything changes.” He was going to be sick. It didn’t matter how many reassurances he sent through his head, none stuck. He disconnected and looked up, to see Susan standing next to him.

  “I’m going with you,” she said.

  He didn’t have the mental power to argue or process how much she overheard. “Fine. Good. Get in the car.”

  He gripped the wheel until his knuckles ached, as they headed down the canyon. The roads weren’t icy—he had that to be grateful for—and it was only three, so traffic was light. What the hell had happened? Silence hummed in his ears, and a couple of times he swore he heard the opening notes of his ringtone. But it was his imagination.

  It took what little self-control Andrew had left, not to press the gas pedal through the floor of the vehicle. Lucas had been gone for more than twelve hours. It was barely above freezing outside. If he wasn’t at a neighbor’s house or the school, and none of the local businesses had seen him, where was he?

  Susan settled her hand on his leg, near the knee. The gentle touch sent an odd ribbon of calm to wrap around his tension, but didn’t stop it. “He’s okay. You’ll find him,” she said.

  “Yeah. Of course.” He didn’t believe his reply. There was no way she bought it.

  A million horrific scenarios tortured him, and he tried to shove them back with ideas about where Lucas might be. He’d have a better idea if he spent more time here. Fuck. Why hadn’t he spent more time with the boy? Where could Lucas be? Did he wander off and hide, or had he been snatched?

  They arrived at Kandace’s, and the closest available parking spot was several houses down. Police cars lined the street, and neighbors and cops milled in and out of the house.

  He wove through all of them, and the moment Kandace saw him, she gave him a huge hug. Lines marred her face. “I don’t know what to do,” she said.

  “We’ll find him.” He rubbed her back before letting her go. “Where do you need us?”

  She raked her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know. People are roaming the streets.”

  He could join them and be another useless body. It wasn’t as though he thought Lucas would answer to him if the boy was ignoring everyone else.

  “Ma’am.” One of the officers interrupted. “We just got off the phone with the district. The bus driver says he was on the bus this morning. You’re sure no one at the school saw him?”

  She shook her head. “That’s what they told me when they called.”

  When I was little, and the sisters would rap my knuckles for things that weren’t my fault, like holes worn in the elbows of my uniform, I’d hide out there. The words slammed into Andrew’s head like a bullet, knocking aside everything else. He’d told Lucas that years ago, when they were talking about the school Lucas would go to. Please, Jesus, let it be this simple.

  He grabbed Kandace’s arm. “I have an idea. I don’t know if it will pan out, but I’m going to look. The old nursery on Fifth, near Twenty-First.”

  Kandace nodded. “Good luck.”

  Susan followed him back to the car. He tossed her his phone before he pulled onto the street. “In case you need to call Kandace. Code is 80085.”

  It couldn’t be this simple, but he had to check. As he navigated city streets and cursed every red light, Susan gave his knee another squeeze. “Only you and about every five-year-old on the planet would think that was funny.” Teasing mingled with her concerned tone.

  Her comment drew a smile, despite his tension. She was talking about his passcode. “What can I say? I’m predictable.” Moments later, he turned into the lot behind a convenience store. Calling it paved would be an overstatement. Dead weeds jabbed through the cracks in the asphalt. Like it was twenty years ago. He didn’t wait to see if Susan followed. He hopped from the SUV, and picked his way over broken concrete blocks and torn pieces of fence, to the abandoned building next door.

  Since he was here last, they’d boarded up the windows and padlocked the back door. He pried at each piece of plywood, his fingertips sore by the time he got to the last one. None of them gave. The chain on the door was rusted, but held when he rattled it.

  No way in. He sighed and leaned back against the building. So much for that idea. They needed to get back to Kandace, but if she hadn’t called, she didn’t have any news.

  “Andrew?” Susan called from around the corner. He kicked away from the filthy brick and moved to find her. She was kneeling next to a pile of crumbled wall. It was tough to make out details in the shadows and fading light, but it looked like a hole. “Hand me your phone again.” She held out her hand.

  He switched on the flashlight and handed it over. She dropped to her stomach and shone the light around. With each passing second, he prayed a little harder, though he wasn’t sure what for.

  “I’ll be right back.” She was crawling through the opening before he could ask for more details.

  “Be careful,” he said.

  Milliseconds passed, seeming to take centuries, before she yelled, “Get in here, now.”

  “How?” The hole was too narrow for his shoulders, so that wasn’t an option.

  She didn’t answer. A moment later, he heard her muffled voice. “Yes. I’m at an abandoned shop on Fifth east and about Twenty-Third south, behind the Exxon. I need an ambulance. Male. Unconscious. Ten. He’s breathing, yes.”

  That spurred Andrew into action. He sprinted back to the SUV and tore the back apart until he found the spare tire. He grabbed the lug-nut wrench, grateful it had a crowbar wedge on the other side, and ran back to the shop. He’d pry off the plywood or break through it somehow. He didn’t care. He had to get in there.

  ANDREW SAT IN A WAITING room seat, knee bouncing and jaw clenched. Kandace paced a few feet away. He wanted to tell her to sit down, but he didn’t have the mental capacity to form words. Susan hadn’t left his side since they loaded Lucas into the ambulance, but she hadn’t said anything either. He was grateful for both.

  “Ms. Newton?” A man in scrubs and a hair cap headed for Kandace. He nodded toward a side door. “Do you want to join me in here, and we’ll talk?”

  She shook her head. “No. They need to hear this. What’s going on?”

  The doctor sat and patted the spot next to him. “We treated him based on what was found around him. The liquor and empty prescription bottle.”

  Like father, like son. Andrew kept the bitter thought to himself.

  The doctor continued. “There’s no way to know how long ago he took them, and it will take time to confirm that’s all he’s got in his system. He’s on respiration and fluids. His vitals are steady, but he’s not out of the woods yet. Once he wakes up, we’ll be more confident with his diagnosis.”

  “Can I sit with him until then?” Kandace asked.

  “Yes. But”—the doctor frowned—“you’ll need to talk to the police, first. They’re waiting.”

  This was too much for Andrew. “The boy is lying unconscious in a fucking hospital bed, and you want her to answer so
me piddly fucking questions?”

  “Stop.” Kandace shot him a warning look.

  The doctor looked sympathetic. “I’m sorry, but it’s the law. He’s a minor, he’s injured, this looks like a suicide attempt, and he got the pills and liquor from somewhere. You can see him and then speak with them in a nearby room. They’ve been patient waiting until we had answers, I’ll ask them to give you ten more minutes so you can see your son.”

  Andrew wanted to protest. To rant and rave about how Kandace was an amazing parent who this was obviously destroying, and how dare they question that? But doing so would add to her stress. He had to bite his tongue until it ached.

  The three followed the doctor through a series of doors, upstairs in the elevator, and through more doors, before he gestured to a room. As the doctor warned, two police officers waited in the hallway. They had the courtesy to step aside when Kandace rushed toward Lucas. Andrew followed.

  Lucas lay in the middle of a too-big for him bed, wires running to monitors, a tube connected to a bag, and a mask with what Andrew assumed was a tube running down his throat. The boy looked smaller than normal. Suicide attempt. The doctor’s words rang in is ears. Pills and liquor. He wanted to say Lucas wouldn’t do that, but he hadn’t spent enough time here, to know. Was it Andrew’s revelation on Saturday that caused this, or was that a selfish thought?

  He stared at the frail body, so many questions tormenting him. Why did this happen?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Susan touched Andrew’s shoulder, and he pulled his gaze from Lucas to look at her, as if he’d forgotten the rest of the world. The conversation with the police didn’t take long. They were involved in the search earlier and sympathetic to Kandace’s plight.

  Susan tugged the sleeve of Andrew’s coat. “You’re going to be here for a while. Might as well take this off,” she said gently.

  “Right. Thanks.” He shrugged out of the jacket and let her take it.

  He turned his attention back to the bed before she finished draping his jacket and hers over a chair. She repeated the gesture with Kandace, whose look was equally haunted.