by Judy Duarte
“And one that might not pan out. Ms. Kincaid believes the kids would be better off with a married couple.”
“In this day and age?” Adam slowly shook his head. “What are the chances that Jim can put the woman off until after she retires? In fact, he might be able to get the counselor at Kidville to intervene.”
“That’s the plan.”
“It sounds like a good one to me.”
Julie lifted her hand and crossed her fingers. “I just hope it works.”
“Me, too.”
Julie bit down on her bottom lip, worried that things wouldn’t work out the way she wanted them to.
“Hey,” Adam said, “Just so you know, I’ll get the names of that couple and run a background check on them.”
“Thanks. I hoped you’d say that.”
“If they’re as sketchy as Karen thinks, they might have a criminal background. And if they do, that might solve all your problems.”
“One way or another, I suppose.”
He studied her again, his gaze intense. Then his expression softened, and his brown eyes glimmered. “Should we try for dinner again on Friday night?”
There it was. The invitation Julie had been prepared for, yet for some breathless reason, every response she’d rehearsed while playing out imaginary conversations in her mind whooshed out of her. Gone.
“Sure,” she said. “Why not?”
“Good. I’ll pick you up at your house at six o’clock.”
As he turned to go, she said, “Call me beforehand and I’ll give you my address. You have my number.” And she wasn’t just talking about her phone.
* * *
On Tuesday, Julie decided to clean out both the closet and the dresser in the spare bedroom to make room for the kids. Her plan might not work, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t show the social worker that she was ready for them, that she was able to provide for their needs and comfort.
She’d no more than headed down the hall with a plastic trash bag and an empty box when her stomach growled. And before she could even think about taking a lunch break, her cell phone rang. When she glanced at the display, she didn’t recognize the number. But she answered anyway. “Hello?”
“It’s Adam.”
“Where are you?” she asked.
“Police headquarters. Can you meet me for a quick lunch at La Cocina, the Mexican restaurant in town?”
A date? Even a quick one sounded great. “Sure, I can meet you there.”
“I have something I want to tell you.”
So not a date?
“I ran a background check on Vivian and Larry Stanford,” he said, “the shirttail relatives interested in providing Cassie and Eddie a home.”
“What’d you find out?”
“Karen was right. They’re pretty sketchy. I don’t have time to go into it now. I’ll talk to you at lunch. Is one o’clock too late?”
“No, I’ll be there.”
In fact, she was so eager to hear what he had to say that she arrived early.
Twenty minutes later, she was sitting at a red wooden table at La Cocina, munching on chips and salsa while waiting for Adam, who was running late for their lunch date.
She studied the interior of the quaint Mexican restaurant, particularly a mural of mariachis serenading a lovely senorita. The other white plastered walls were adorned with colorful southwestern blankets, a few black sombreros and several antique frames displaying photographs that had been taken in the early part of the last century.
She’d just reached for another chip when she spotted Adam coming through the door. She waved, and he made his way toward her.
“I’m sorry I’m late.”
“No problem,” she said.
A hank of dark hair had flopped onto his brow, and a serious expression suggested that he’d rushed from the parking lot. “How long have you been waiting?”
“Not long,” she said.
He glanced down at the half-eaten basket of chips, then arched a single brow, clearly doubting her words.
“Okay, I stretched the truth a tad. I got here early, but I really didn’t mind the wait.”
He flashed a dazzling smile, morphing into the charming and handsome guy she’d been expecting to see. He pulled out a bulky red chair, the legs scraping the floor, and took the seat across from hers. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut out early. I have to get back to headquarters for a meeting.”
Okay, so this wasn’t an actual date. She could deal with that, but she’d skipped breakfast and was starving, which was why more than half the tortilla chips were already gone.
“Do you have time to eat something?” she asked. Not that she was uncomfortable going to restaurants on her own, but—date or no date—she’d been looking forward to seeing him again.
“I’ll probably just get a carne asada burrito to go and pay our tab as soon as we order.” He motioned for the waitress, a matronly woman with dark hair, rosy cheeks and a friendly smile.
If he didn’t consider this a date, she certainly wasn’t going to let him think she’d made that jump. “Let’s ask for separate tabs.”
“No way,” he said. “I got this.”
After they placed their orders, Julie leaned forward, her forearms resting on the edge of the table. “So what’d you find out about the Stanfords?”
“Well, they aren’t exactly hardened criminals.” He reached for a chip and dipped it into the salsa. “But they’re definitely what I’d call sketchy.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“They both have quite a few court records,” he said. “Vivian had a stack of unpaid parking tickets, and there was a warrant out for her arrest. She’s now on a payment plan. Last year, she was charged with disturbing the peace. Apparently, she had an argument with a neighbor that turned into a shouting match. And after she made threats, the neighbor filed a restraining order against her.”
“She doesn’t sound like she’d make a good foster mother,” Julie said.
“I agree. She’d make a crappy role model, too.”
Julie hoped that Ms. Kincaid would agree, but who knew what she’d say.
“As for Larry Stanford, he has a couple of DUIs, the most recent in February of last year. He spent time in jail for that one and had his license revoked. He’s supposed to attend AA meetings, although I haven’t had a chance to talk to his probation officer yet.”
As much as Julie hoped the news Adam had uncovered might affect Ms. Kincaid’s decision, she had a feeling the social worker would say Mr. Stanford had paid his debt to society and that he was doing his best to turn his life around.
“I also ran a credit check,” Adam said. “Vivian and Larry aren’t exactly up to their eyeballs in debt, but they’re definitely having financial trouble.”
“Since they asked how much they’d receive as foster parents, I think that money is their primary motivation.”
“I agree.”
The waitress arrived with a bowl of tortilla soup, a white paper bag with the burrito and the bill. Adam whipped out his credit card and handed it to her. Not wanting to be overheard, Julie ate in silence until she walked away.
“I’m not sure if I uncovered anything that would prevent an old-fashioned social worker from granting them custody,” Adam said.
Julie wanted to argue, but he was right. In her heart, she knew the Stanfords couldn’t provide a proper home for the kids, but she had a feeling Ms. Kincaid wouldn’t see things that way.
“I’m sorry,” Adam said. “I wish I had better news.”
Julie pushed aside her half-eaten bowl of tortilla soup, no longer hungry—and not just because of the chips she’d eaten earlier.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Adam added, “I’m worried about those kids, too.”
That didn’t make her feel
the least bit better because he obviously knew things could go badly for Eddie and Cassie, and there wasn’t a darn thing either of them could do about it.
“I spoke to Jim about Ms. Kincaid this morning,” Adam said. “According to him, she thinks Cassie would do better if she wasn’t in such a large group setting. And she’d like to get them into an actual foster home as soon as possible.”
“I offered to take the kids myself,” Julie said.
“That would be nice—if it works out.”
“Yes, but I don’t know... Ms. Kincaid is... Well, she seems pretty conservative.” Julie blew out a weary sigh. “She has some strong opinions, even if they’re outdated. And something tells me she’s not going to give a rip about parking tickets or neighborhood altercations or...even past DUIs.” Just that possibility triggered a ripple of nausea, and Julie took a sip of water, hoping to wash it away.
“Keep in mind,” Adam said, “in this day and age, the court won’t necessarily agree with her.”
“You might be right, but Ms. Kincaid is so well-respected, the court might allow the Stanfords to foster the kids on her say-so alone. It’s just too bad I’m not married. Then I’d have a fighting chance of getting custody.”
They sat in silence for a moment. Julie suspected Adam was trying to wrap his mind around the situation, just as she was.
“How soon will the decision will be made?” Adam asked.
“Ms. Kincaid is supposed to retire in a couple of weeks, and Jim told me she was determined to find placements for all the children on her caseload by then.” Julie lifted her glass and took another sip of water, which didn’t seem to settle her queasy stomach. Then she blew out a sigh. “I wish that woman didn’t have a thing against single parents, but I can’t be something I’m not.”
“No guy in sight?” Adam asked.
Actually, a very tempting guy sat across the table from her right now, gripping that paper bag that held his lunch as if he was about to make a mad dash out of the restaurant. But there was no way she’d admit that, even if this had turned out to be a real date, which it clearly hadn’t.
“No,” she said, “I’m not dating anyone at the moment. But maybe I can convince Ms. Kincaid that she’s wrong about single parents. My dad was in the military and deployed a lot, so my mother pretty much raised me alone. And she was a great mom. We were really close.”
As she lifted her glass to take another drink, Adam got to his feet and said, “I have to run, but a weird thought just crossed my mind.”
At this point, she’d consider wild ideas. “Okay, let’s hear it.”
“What if we got married?”
Chapter Six
Julie choked on the water she’d tried to swallow and sputtered, “Are you kidding?”
“I haven’t actually thought it out, so I’m grasping at straws. But what I’m suggesting wouldn’t be a real marriage.”
“That sounds fraudulent.”
“Maybe so, but no one would need to know about the plan except us. Then, after you’re awarded custody of the kids, we could file for an annulment. By then, the social worker would have retired.” Adam blew out a sigh of his own. “It sounds desperate, I know. But I’d do just about anything to make sure those kids have a good, safe and loving home. And in my opinion, the best one would be yours.” He nodded to the front entrance. “I have to run, but think it over. We can talk more later.”
Stunned by the sudden...proposal, Julie merely nodded and watched Adam hurry out of the restaurant.
A marriage was certainly more serious than a date, and even though Julie was stunned by Adam’s suggestion, she was touched by it, too.
She hadn’t known him very long, and while her admiration for and attraction to him was growing deeper each day, his plan was a real stretch.
She’d never marry anyone unless the man she loved felt the same way about her. And her feelings for Adam ran deep. In fact, she could easily fall head over heels for him, if she hadn’t already. But she doubted Adam felt the same way about her.
Pride urged her to not give Adam’s suggestion another thought.
But what about Eddie and Cassie?
In all honesty, she’d do anything to keep those kids safe. On top of that, she’d come to believe that Adam could be the man she’d been waiting for all her life. He might not be in love with her now, but maybe, given time, his feelings for her would grow.
Hey, it happened in books and movies all the time.
As she pushed back her chair and stood, she made a decision she could live with.
If Adam brought it up again, she’d agree to his plan. But maybe he’d have a change of heart after he had a chance to think on it.
* * *
As Adam climbed into the government-issued vehicle he’d driven to La Cocina, he swore under his breath. He rarely spoke without thinking, but the words had rolled off his tongue before he could stop them. And he had no excuse for it.
The idea of a marriage on paper wasn’t necessarily a bad one, considering their motives, and it would probably work. But then what?
Just the thought of getting married, even if it was only temporary, scared the crap out of him.
But so did the idea of that social worker clinging to her old-style beliefs and sending those kids to live with guardians who could turn out to be worse than Brady Thatcher.
And with their mother out of the picture—not that Adam believed that cock-and-bull story Brady had told them about her running off to Hollywood—the Stanfords were the only family they had left.
Adam had tried to find their mom, like he’d promised. But so far, he hadn’t had any luck. Since he suspected foul play, he’d talked to Jim and Donna, who approved of him taking DNA samples from the kids. The plan was to match them against the databases of any unidentified females who’d been dead for a year or so. If things turned out the way he thought they would, that would leave Eddie and Cassie orphaned.
He pondered the idea of a fake marriage for the rest of the day, which distracted him several times during an unexpected stakeout that night. It had also lingered in his mind until he parked in front of his house just before dawn.
As he unlocked the front door, a bark sounded. Apparently, the scaredy-cat was becoming a watchdog. How about that?
“It’s me,” he said as he let himself inside.
The dog greeted him at the door with little woofs and a wagging tail. He bent to greet her with a caress of her shaggy head. “Are you glad to see me, girl?”
Another bark said she was. And that made him glad, too.
She was really coming around, and he was glad. Who knew what abuse she’d gone through while out on the streets? Oddly enough, she hadn’t been leery of Eddie and Cassie when Adam had found them together. Maybe she’d sensed that those two had been just as traumatized by cruelty as she’d been.
Adam scratched behind her ear, and she tilted her head to give him better access, her tail thumping upon the floor. Then, as was their habit, he rewarded her with another treat. And as usual, she gobbled it up.
He laughed. “I wasn’t going to name you, but I think Biscuit would be a good one.”
She sat on her haunches, her wagging tail sweeping the floor.
“Then Biscuit it is.”
Just like the dog, Eddie and Cassie seemed to be coming along, too. They were especially responsive to Julie. But hell, how could they not be? Even Adam found himself lowering his guard around her.
Would Biscuit respond to Julie in a similar way? Would her music and songs lull the skittish little thing into a peaceful, trusting state?
Maybe he should invite her over one evening and find out.
As he made his way to the kitchen, Biscuit coming along with him, he said, “You’ll never guess what I got us into today.”
Biscuit pranced at his side as if she didn’t care what he’d d
one. She’d follow him anywhere.
He smiled. He’d always admired loyalty and trust.
After preparing Biscuit’s food and refreshing the water in her bowl, he glanced at Stan’s answering machine, its red light blinking.
That was odd. Most of his friends already knew Stan had died. It was probably just a sales call.
He shook it off and went back to pondering his offer to marry Julie, which ought to make him head for the hills.
It didn’t, though. As time went by, his uneasiness about marriage, especially one that was only on paper, had dissipated. And as he’d said, they could get an annulment later.
He glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was pretty late to be calling Julie, but they didn’t have much time to waste.
Ms. Kincaid is supposed to retire in a couple of weeks, Julie had said.
And according to Jim Hoffman, the social worker was dead set on placing those kids in a home by then. So time was running out.
He reached for his cell and dialed Julie’s number. If she’d come up with a better idea than his, he’d like to hear it.
* * *
Julie had just placed a bookmark in the novel she’d been reading and turned out the light on her nightstand when her cell phone rang. “Hey,” Adam said. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, I’m still up.” But had he called five minutes later that wouldn’t have been the case. She turned on the bedside lamp, then flung off the blanket and sat on the edge of the bed.
“Have you had a chance to think over that plan?” he asked.
That was about all she’d been able to do, although she’d finally decided to read so she could focus on something else and, hopefully, get a good night’s sleep.
“Yes,” she admitted. “I’ve given it some thought.”
“And...?”
“If you’re willing, I am.” Just to make sure he didn’t think she expected their marriage to be real, she added, “It’s possible that all we need to do is let Ms. Kincaid think we’re getting married. Maybe announcing our engagement would be enough to sway her.”
