Barrett, Julia Rachel - Anytime Darlin' (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Anytime Darlin' (20010) (lit)

  “Yeah, thanks. I need a shower first.” Jake paused. “How is she?”

  “Devlin? Awake. See ya in a few.” Mike clicked off.

  * * * *

  Jake gave his thick hair a brief rub with a towel and ran his fingers through it. A quick check in the mirror told him he had a pretty pronounced shadow beard, but he wasn’t in the mood to shave. In fact, the thought that he might learn who abused Devlin had him feeling downright savage. Like maybe he’d have the opportunity to tear someone limb from limb.

  Jake pulled on a pair of faded jeans and headed to the kitchen for some instant coffee.

  “Jesus Christ! Don’t you knock?” he exclaimed as Mike handed him a mug of steaming coffee with cream.

  “When you learn to lock your door, I’ll learn to knock,” stated Mike blandly. “I called Shauna. The girl still won’t talk to her, neither will the witness, or whatever she is. She wants you there ASAP.”

  Jake grabbed a couple of slices of whole wheat bread from a package sitting on his counter and stuffed one in his mouth. “Just give me a minute,” he mumbled, talking around the bread. “I gotta find my shit-kickers.”

  “Put a shirt on while you’re at it, and a sweater. It’s fucking freezing outside this morning,” Mike added as he followed him to the bedroom. “So what’s up with you and Janice?”

  “Nothing’s up. I took her home.”

  Jake heard Mike muttering. “What’s your problem?”

  “Please tell me I won’t be standing up for you at a shotgun wedding.”

  In the middle of pulling on a black tee shirt, Jake stopped and glared at Mike. “What do you know about it?”

  “Enough.”

  “No,” said Jake as he grabbed a sweater slung over the foot of the bed, “I don’t plan to marry her, but once the baby’s born, if a blood test shows that I’m the kid’s father, then I’m the kid’s father. You got a problem with that?”

  “It’s not your kid! How the hell can you be so calm about this?”

  Tugging on his boots, Jake didn’t bother to look up. “Because you’re right. It’s not my kid. Let’s go.”

  * * * *

  “Well, well, if it isn’t Mutt and Jeff,” clucked Shauna when she met them at the hospital entrance. “You off already, Mike?”

  “Gee, Shauna, what gave me away? Maybe I’m just undercover,” retorted Mike.

  “Nah, the leather jacket’s too nice,” she commented, sizing him up.

  Mike grinned at her. “Be still my heart.”

  Shauna rolled her eyes and deliberately ignored his comment. She turned to Jake. “So, Jake, how you doing?”

  “Good, Shauna. You?”

  “Good, thanks. I suppose Mike filled you in?”

  Jake nodded. “Yeah, no matching prints, she’s not in the system, but if I understand correctly, you may or may not have someone who can identify Devlin. You want me to talk to both of them?”

  “Actually,” said Shauna, “I have a teacher from Sunset Springs High who came into the station early this morning to talk about a student who might or might not be missing. She ended up at my desk. I listened to her story and showed her a photo of the girl, one we took last night. The teacher clammed up on me. Refused to say another word.”

  Mike and Jake exchanged glances. Mike was the first to speak. “So you think she knows exactly who the girl is and probably who did this?”

  “But for some reason is scared to say,” finished Jake.

  “Right,” said Shauna, “but the thing is, I don’t think she’s scared for herself. I think she’s scared for the girl. I want you here, Jake, because Dr. Workman suggested I keep you involved. She thinks Devlin, if that’s her real name, will open up to you.”

  “It’s her real name,” muttered Jake, pacing.

  “And I brought the teacher with me. She’s upstairs in the nurses’ lounge.”

  “I hope you didn’t leave her alone,” said Mike.

  “Yeah, right, Mike, I left her alone.” Shauna threw him a feral smile. “Scott’s with her.”

  Jake loped toward the elevators, Mike and Shauna trailing after him. He hit the up button and turned to Shauna. “I want to hear what the teacher has to say.”

  * * * *

  “Miss Ellis,” said Shauna, “this is Jake McKenna. He’s one of the paramedics who brought Devlin in. And this is Officer Mike Jones, he answered the call. In fact, he was the first one on the scene. They’d like to talk to you, if that’s okay.”

  Miss Ellis was a young woman, attractive, with wide brown eyes and shoulder-length amber-colored hair that she twisted nervously. Jake figured she hadn’t been a teacher very long. She still had the innocent, idealistic look of a college student. She stared suspiciously at both of them.

  She turned to Shauna. “Why?”

  At that moment, Mary Workman walked through the door. “Because they want to help,” she said. “Miss Ellis, I was the doctor on duty last night when Devlin came in, and I saw up close what was done to her. I know she connected with Jake. I don’t think she would have tolerated anything we had to do to her in the ER without Jake right beside her. I insisted Shauna call him because, first of all, I want him here, and secondly, I believe that Devlin will tell him what happened. And right now, there’s nothing I want more. She needs help, and whoever did this to her needs to be identified and arrested. I’m guessing you know that as well as I do. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have shown up at the police station in the first place.”

  Miss Ellis blushed. Jake thought she was very pretty when she blushed, and one glance at Mike told him Mike noticed the same thing.

  “I’m so sorry,” Miss Ellis stammered. “I didn’t mean to…It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I don’t want to make anything worse.”

  Mike took her arm and led her to the couch. “Why don’t you sit down? Jake and I have known each other for a long time, and I promise, we won’t let anything happen to Devlin.” He looked in Jake’s direction, warning him to keep his mouth shut. “Just tell us what you know, and we’ll find a way to protect her. And you,” he added at her look of distress.

  Jake decided to let Mike handle her. He was too edgy, pacing, anxious, to find out what Miss Ellis knew about Devlin. She was afraid. Jake could practically smell it. Mary must have recognized his rising anger because she approached him.

  “Calm down,” she whispered. “You don’t want to scare her off.”

  Mary squeezed Jake’s arm. He was grateful for her good sense and the fact that she knew better than to be afraid of him. Jake had a quick temper, but he’d never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it, especially not a woman who seemed scared to death. Miss Ellis seemed almost as afraid to talk as Devlin.

  “Devlin’s in my senior Advanced Placement English Literature class at Sunset Springs,” she began abruptly, “at least when she comes to school.”

  “A senior?” interrupted Mary. “She looks like she’s about fourteen.”

  “No, she’s not fourteen. She’s seventeen, almost eighteen.”

  Jake crossed his arms over his chest, considering. He decided to get right to the point. “Hasn’t it occurred to anyone at your school that the girl’s as thin as a rail? It’d take a blind person not to notice. I don’t believe for one minute that you’ve never seen bruises on her.”

  “Jake…” Mary interrupted.

  “No, I’m dead serious.” He disengaged her hand from his arm. “No way do I believe that no one at your school’s ever discussed this.”

  “Shut up, Jake,” hissed Shauna.

  Miss Ellis burst into tears. Mike began to pat her back while Mary retrieved a box of tissues from a cabinet. She handed it to the crying woman.

  “Thanks.” Miss Ellis sniffed. “He’s right. He’s absolutely right. We all knew something was wrong, that something very bad was going on, but we didn’t know what. We tried, we tried to intervene, but nothing happened. I called Child Protective Services three times. All they said was the family seemed fine. I don’t
even know if they went over there. They wouldn’t give me any information. I went over there myself one evening. Her uncle told me Devlin was at the library, at nine o’clock at night.”

  “The library closes at eight,” volunteered Mike.

  “Uncle?” asked Shauna.

  “Yes,” answered Miss Ellis, “she lives with her aunt and uncle.”

  “When did you call Child Protective Services?” asked Shauna.

  “The last time was just a month ago. Before that, in September, and another teacher called last spring, a few months after Devlin was admitted to our school.”

  “I need her name,” said Shauna, “to get those reports.”

  “She goes by Devlin, but her name is Eleanor Devlin Barre, with an e at the end.”

  “Do you have a birth date?” asked Scott, looking up from his pad.

  “I guess it would be April 13. She would have turned seventeen last April 13. So she would have been born in, what, 1963?”

  “On it,” said Scott, and he strode out of the waiting room.

  “You said she lived with her aunt, Miss Ellis?” prompted Mike.

  “Please, call me Beth. Yes, she lives with her aunt and uncle. She transferred to our school last winter after some sort of motor vehicle accident. From what I understand, her parents, her grandparents, and her younger brother were all killed. I guess Devlin was thrown from the vehicle and survived. I think she had quite a few broken bones or something. According to school records, her aunt is her legal guardian.”

  Jake suddenly realized Mary had gone absolutely silent. He turned to look at her. She was pale as a ghost. She grabbed him, her hands like ice cubes on his wrist.

  “I know her,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know this girl. Oh my God. I know about the accident.”

  Jake thought Mary might pass out. He put an arm around her for support, helping her to the couch. Mary struggled to sit up, but Jake held her shoulders down.

  “Easy, baby, easy. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Mike, can you get some water?”

  “Yeah, got it.” He jumped up and headed to the cooler.

  Mike handed Jake the paper cup. Jake held Mary’s trembling hands, helping her to drink.

  “What are you talking about, baby?” asked Jake, confused, “How could you possibly know anything about it? You didn’t recognize her last night.”

  “That’s because I haven’t seen her in years, not since she was ten or eleven years old. She’s my youngest brother’s age. They’re friends. God, they’ve been friends since they were born, but we always called her Ellie. I’m sorry, but this just doesn’t seem possible. Let me sit up, Jake, okay? I need to sit up.”

  Jake helped her to a sitting position, letting her lean against him. “Take it slow,” he said, rubbing her shoulders with his big hands. “I’m right here.”

  Mary began to speak, all eyes on her. “Her grandparents owned the farm adjoining my parents’, near Treynor, Iowa. Twelve hundred acres, if memory serves. They grew corn and soybeans and raised some cattle. The farm had been in the family forever. Their names were Janelle and Gary Reynolds. They had two daughters, Catherine and Carolyn. My God, Catherine used to babysit us. Carolyn married young and moved away. I never really knew her, but Catherine stayed in Iowa. She was a professor at Grinnell College, in the Physics Department, I think, and she married Griffin Barre, a professor of medieval history. They had two kids, Devlin and, God, I can’t remember her little brother’s name, but I think he was eight, maybe, when the accident happened.

  “My mom called to tell me. It was a year ago last September. The Barre family was leaving for somewhere, leaving the country, I think, on sabbatical. Gary was driving them all to the airport in Omaha when something happened. I don’t know exactly what. My mom said it wasn’t really clear. They were on the interstate bridge between Iowa and Nebraska, heading to the airport, when Gary lost control of his van. Mom said they rolled several times, hit the guardrail and flipped over, off an overpass, onto the road below. Devlin was thrown from the car before it flipped. Somehow, everyone behind them saw what happened and managed to stop in time. She ended up at Creighton University Hospital for months. The last I heard, the aunt came and got her.”

  “My mom wasn’t sure where Carolyn took her, but the Reynolds’ farm wound up with a property management company, and my brother Mark leases it. He’s leased it for over a year. The accident was a terrible tragedy. The Reynolds family was an institution. Everyone thought well of them. My mom sent me all the clippings from the local newspapers, the Omaha World-Herald, the Council Bluffs Nonpareil. I may still have them at home.”

  Before Shauna could get in a word, Jake asked quickly, “The aunt and uncle, what are their names?”

  “I don’t know,” said Mary. “I barely knew Carolyn, and I can’t remember her married name. My mom would.”

  “I know her married name,” said Beth. “It’s Franz. William and Carolyn Franz.”

  “The title company Franz?” asked Shauna.

  Beth looked at her. “Yes.”

  Mike whistled through his teeth. “Shit.”

  Then Jake asked the question they were all thinking, “Still no missing persons report?”

  Shauna shook her head.

  Jake had heard enough. “You can get the rest of the story. I want to see Devlin,” he said, heading to the door of the ICU.

  Shauna halted him. “Hold on there, cowboy. I don’t want anything she says compromised. And I don’t want you scaring her. So, either I come with you or you don’t get within a mile of her. Am I making myself clear?”

  “I want to see her now,” Jake insisted. “Look, you need to finish up with Miss Ellis and Mary. I just want to see her, sit with her. I need to know she’s okay. I won’t even talk to her until you get in there. Good enough for you?”

  When Shauna hesitated, Mary spoke up. “I’ll stay with them,” she said, “and I’ll come get you if she has anything to say.”

  “All right,” she agreed, “but Jake, keep it under control. And Mary, I want to see the articles. I’m sure there was an investigation.”

  Jake nodded. For Devlin’s sake, he would keep it under control, for now. And then that fucking bastard better watch out.

  * * * *

  For the first time in nearly a year, Devlin slept. She actually slept deeply enough to dream. Devlin hadn’t dreamed in months. These particular dreams were filled with visions of a man who had eyes such a deep chocolate brown that his irises melted right into his pupils. He must be an angel, she thought, watching him stride on powerful legs through her dreams, a big, beautiful, dark-haired, avenging angel. He kept the demons at bay. Her angel was real, and he had a name. Jake. Devlin remembered. She remembered everything about the past two years.

  Devlin’s eyes flew open and she tore at the oxygen mask covering her mouth and nose, panic-stricken. She had no idea how long she’d been asleep, whether or not someone had already identified her, or if he knew where to find her. Maybe he was out there right now, smiling, nodding his head with concern and convincing the doctors that she was just another troubled teenage runaway. That she’d been nothing but trouble since the day she arrived in Denver. Devlin’s heart pounded in her chest as she scanned the room for any sign of his presence. There was nothing. The faint lights from the beeping monitor illuminated an empty room. Devlin sighed with relief and lay back on the pillow, coughing hard as she did so. She felt a sharp jolt of pain in her ribs with each cough.

  One of the nurses entered through the open door. Noticing that Devlin was awake, she handed her an extra pillow. “Here, sweetie, hold this over your abdomen, like this, when you cough. It will help to stabilize your ribs and decrease that pain you’re feeling.” She showed Devlin how to use the pillow as a splint.

  She pulled the stethoscope from around her neck and instructed Devlin to lean forward so she could listen to her lungs.

  Apparently she didn’t like what she heard because she said, “Cough for
me,” and then, “A little better.” She popped a rechargeable thermometer under Devlin’s tongue and, while she was waiting for the temp, pulled a blood pressure cuff from the wall and wrapped it around Devlin’s left arm. The right arm had an IV going with what looked like an antibiotic piggyback hooked in via a separate IV pump. Devlin knew what a piggyback was. She’d had more than her share of IV piggybacks during her three-month stay in the hospital after the accident.

  “Pressure’s one hundred over sixty,” the nurse commented, “and your temp’s down to 100.3. Good job, girl. You feeling better?”

  “Better is a relative term,” replied Devlin. “I guess I’m feeling better, but I kind of don’t remember everything. How long have I been here?”

  “You came in early yesterday morning. You’ve been pretty out of it since then. It’s almost 9 a.m. I’m Amy, by the way, your nurse for today, and you are?”

  “Devlin.”

  “I already knew that.” Amy laughed. “It’s okay. I get it. It seems like you’ve been through a lot these past few days, but let’s hope things will get better from here on out.”

  Despite her fear, Devlin smiled back. It was hard not to when Amy had such an infectious laugh. Devlin remembered the title of a book on her mom’s bedside table, Been Down So Long It Looks Like Up to Me. Her mom never found the time to read it. Somehow, Devlin didn’t think things were going to be looking up anytime soon, but right now was right now. Right now could be a whole lot worse. At least Amy didn’t know her last name, which meant the police didn’t either.

  “What do I have?” Devlin asked. “Pneumonia?”

  “According to the chest X-ray, yes, you do, among other things. But, you’re young. You’ll bounce back quickly.”

  Devlin blushed as she asked the next question. “Um, do I have a Foley catheter in?”

  “Yeah, why? Is it uncomfortable?”

  “A little,” replied Devlin. “Would you mind taking it out? I know I’m weak, and it might be hard to walk to the bathroom, but I really want it out. Now.”