Hardwired

by C. P. Rowlands

Clary gave her a searching look, and took the first left. They drove every alley they could find until the sun nudged up over the lake. Finally, they stopped at the beach by Mojo’s. Leefe’s phone rang. Hopeful, she answered, but Howie reported the police had seen nothing. Leefe called Albie, and then Beverly. Discouraged, Leefe stared at the street in front of her. Warm hands cupped her face, and she stared into beautiful green eyes.

  “Leefe, I need to say this. I don’t know how we’ve stumbled into each other at this time and place, but I know I care about you, and we’re going to find Devi. Don’t you dare quit, on either of us.” Clary took her hand and squeezed it.

  But I’m not leaving. You are.

  Clary suddenly pointed. “Look,” she said.

  *

  A small figure marched across the beach behind them, headed toward the lake. “Look how rigid she is. She’s so mad she’s practically on fire. Let’s go,” Leefe said.

  They ran through the tall grass and across the sand in front of Mojo’s, chasing Devi’s determined little form, and then stopped at the top of the dunes. “Listen to her beat on my door, and how’d she know where my house is? Stubborn kid,” Leefe said.

  Devi reappeared, threw her jacket on Leefe’s little deck, and sat on the steps. She faced the lake, head on her arms, sobbing. Leefe called her name, and the little figure swiveled. Her pink T-shirt had seen better days.

  “Where were you?” she demanded, tiny fists on her hips and wrapped in a mountain of defiance.

  “I told you I’d be gone last night.” Leefe bent to look Devi in the eyes. “This is where I live, but I spent the night looking for you.”

  “I waited. You didn’t come.” Devi scowled, tears on her cheeks. “I was at Papa’s place.”

  Clary picked up Devi’s jacket. “Let’s go to my house. I’ll fix breakfast.”

  “The old movie house?” Leefe said.

  “Under the big box.”

  “The Dumpster?” Leefe took her hand, and they started toward Clary’s. Devi nodded but wouldn’t look at her.

  “What do we have to do?” Leefe said.

  “Say sorry to Albie,” Devi said, her voice quiet. “I did bad.”

  Leefe dialed Albie, talked for a few minutes, and handed the phone to Devi.

  “It’s me.” Devi’s voice shook, and her eyes filled again. “Sorry, Albie,” she said and gave the phone to Leefe who explained where they were before she ended the call. Silent, they walked to Maureen’s.

  Clary set bowls on the table, put some bread in the toaster, and poured orange juice. When the toast popped up, she said, “Does anyone want jelly?”

  Devi’s eyes went wide.

  Clary held up the jar and grinned.

  “First you have to wash up.” Leefe took Devi to the bathroom, came back alone, and collapsed into the chair beside Clary. “Howard called. They’re on their way here.”

  “Is Albie all right?”

  “She’s upset but thankful. Beverly got some volunteers to help her with breakfast.” Leefe rubbed her face. “That was a great run across the beach,” she said with a tired grin as Devi sat beside her.

  “How did you know where I lived?” Leefe frowned at Devi.

  “Albie said by the food house with the big M on top. On the sand. My brother likes the old lady that owns it.”

  Aunt Mo would love that, Clary thought with a smile. Actually, it would make her laugh. Car doors slammed outside, and Clary heard Howie’s voice. Devi shrunk into her chair when her brother came into the kitchen.

  He sat in the chair next to her. “Devi,” was all he said.

  Devi shoved her bowl away. “I’m sorry.” She laid her head on the table and began to cry again.

  Howie put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Remember what I said. Go easy.”

  The boy put his arm around Devi. “I know you’re afraid, but Ms. Ellis isn’t going to leave you. She’s always there.”

  “Not last night,” Devi said, her face wet. Leefe handed her some tissues.

  “But not like Mama and Papa are gone.”

  “And I told you I’d be back this morning.” Leefe pulled a chair to the other side of Devi. “I’ve always kept my word.”

  Howie caught Clary’s attention. “Let’s go to the deck and let them sort it out.” Once outside, he continued. “Her brother said they lived in Chicago before they came to South Port, and I talked to the father. He said there’s a birth certificate at a hospital in Chicago when he signed off on the lawyer’s proposal for Leefe. I stopped by Beverly’s office and gave her the paperwork.”

  “That’s good. It’s moving forward,” Clary said.

  “The homeless are complicated. Beverly and the lawyer will handle this.” He leaned against the deck railing. “Tomorrow’s the Fourth. Would you, Leefe, and Devi like to come over for a cookout at our place, mid-afternoon?”

  Clary grinned. “Are you cooking bear?”

  “Huh? Oh no, not that,” he said with a laugh. “Sorry, only burgers, but the wife’s doing plenty of side dishes. Ask Leefe, and get in touch with me later. If tomorrow’s a nice day, we’ll eat first, go to the beach later, and finish up at the jetties for the fireworks.” He glanced at his watch. “We have to go. I have a meeting. Tell Leefe to call her lawyer about this afternoon’s meeting with Mrs. Ellis.” He started to leave, but turned back. “Are you going with her, to the jail?”

  “Do you think I should?”

  “I think it’s going to be hard on her. That woman is terrible.”

  They both heard Devi laugh and Clary said, “Guess that’s our cue.”

  Clary tucked Leefe and Devi into her bed. Leefe hadn’t slept all night and Devi looked as if she hadn’t either. She got her car, and then cleaned the kitchen. Finally, she went into the office, set her laptop’s alarm, and stretched out on the daybed. Leefe had asked Beverly if she could borrow a twin bed from the day care storage. Then she’d called her lawyer and agreed to meet at the jail, late this afternoon. Today was going to be busy.

  Clary rolled over onto her stomach. They all needed as much sleep as possible right now.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  The steps of the South Port jail were clean, and Clary surveyed the old red brick building, another place she’d never been in her home town. She heard Leefe’s nervous breath and reached for her hand. They’d left Devi at the day care to mend fences with Albie, took a twin bed to Leefe’s, and then hurried to change clothing. Now, here they were, tired but on time.

  “Is the lawyer inside?”

  Leefe nodded. “Will you sit with us?”

  “Of course, if you want me there,” Clary said with one last glance at Leefe. The long-sleeved, gray silk shirt matched Leefe’s eyes, and the black pants and dress boots with a little heel gave her the right amount of presence and authority. Clary had insisted on silver earrings for a little sparkle under the shining black hair.

  Leefe paused at the door and took a deep breath. A woman with a warm smile opened the door for them.

  “Leefe, good timing. They’re bringing her up to the conference room now.”

  “Ms. Bishop, this is my friend, Clary Stone,” Leefe said, stepping back.

  Clary shook the woman’s hand and traded smiles. Rebecca Bishop wore an elegant, dark mauve suit. Her light brown eyes swept Clary.

  “It’s Rebecca,” the lawyer said. “I’ve been Howard’s lawyer for years. He’s said some very nice things about you, and I often work with Beverly on behalf of the day care.”

  “Beverly’s known me since preschool, and Howie and I went through school together.”

  “I hear you have a serious right hook,” the lawyer said with a grin.

  Clary walked inside with a sigh, glad she’d worn the one business suit she’d brought home. Professional black with comfortable low heels always did it for her. Turning slowly, she examined the entrance area. The paintings and small sculptures set against light rose walls were warm and inviting. Even the furniture was welcoming. The only r
eminder of what the building was designed for was the bulletproof glass surrounding the front desk.

  “Not what you expected? This was originally an inn on the lake.” Rebecca directed a light smile at Clary. “The prisoners are brought in the back, and it’s totally severe, as it’s meant to be.”

  The conference room was small, but also well appointed, and the chairs were comfortable with plenty of leather padding. Clary had expected metal chairs and tables, from what she’d seen on TV. Rebecca sat at the head of the table, with Leefe to the left, Clary to her right.

  Mrs. Ellis shuffled into the room, handcuffed, wearing the county’s orange overalls and an arrogant expression. She was short and round with damp hair. Maybe she’d had a shower, Clary wondered. She certainly looked rough. The young court-appointed lawyer sat beside Mrs. Ellis at the other end of the table. A policeman stood inside, in front of the closed door.

  With a sudden hoarse cackle, Mrs. Ellis broke the silence. “Well, dearie, you’ve changed,” she said to Leefe, her expression anything but kind.

  Leefe gave her the silent stare that was so familiar to Clary.

  “How are you, Will?” Rebecca said to the young lawyer at the other end of the table, ignoring Mrs. Ellis. “Did you get my proposal?”

  He nodded, holding up a file folder. “I’ve spoken to my client and she’s agreeable, as long as she has the opportunity to speak. I have the information you requested.”

  Mrs. Ellis narrowed her small, mean eyes at Leefe, as if she were aiming a weapon.

  “You whiney little kid,” was Mrs. Ellis’s opening shot, her face cruel. “You drag me here over a fucking gun, after everything I did for you.” Red crept up her neck, into her thin, straggly hair. “After your parents were killed, we took you in, and this is how you thank us? Be grateful. If Pa was alive, you wouldn’t draw another breath.”

  “That’s enough,” Rebecca Bishop said, voice authoritative and low, all warmth gone. “Watch your mouth or the deal’s off the table. We’ll go after the other charges instead, and keep you here while we investigate.”

  “You don’t scare me, girly,” Mrs. Ellis snapped. “A gun without a permit is a misdemeanor.”

  “True,” Rebecca said with a small smile. “But the rest of your life isn’t. We’ll take as much time and resources as needed to track you from the moment you were born.”

  Silence hung across the table for a few moments.

  “You had it good, Leefe. We could’a dumped you up there, and they’d have sold you in a heartbeat.” Mrs. Ellis shifted in the chair. “Then where would you be, dearie?”

  The sharp words were like a knife scraping on stone, and Clary tensed. There wasn’t a shred of emotion on Leefe’s face, and she remembered Jesse describing Leefe’s street kid instincts, never giving a thing away.

  “Nothing to say for yourself? You ain’t gonna talk?” Mrs. Ellis taunted.

  Rebecca spoke up. “You have the offer.”

  “I hear you run the orphanage here. How fitting.” Mrs. Ellis gave a gurgling laugh.

  Leefe only continued to stare silently.

  “It’s time for us to leave,” Rebecca said, standing tall and challenging. “We won’t be back. This is your opportunity to speak, so make it count.”

  Mrs. Ellis turned to her lawyer. “What good are you? Do something.”

  He held up the folder. “As I’ve advised, if you give them this, you’ll be back in Milwaukee, tonight or tomorrow.”

  Mrs. Ellis hauled her thick body out of the chair, snatched the folder out of his hand, and shoved it down the table. “I’m tired of this crap. Take it. I want to go home.” She knocked the chair sideways, moving toward the door, but stopped and pointed her finger at Leefe. “Watch your back, little smart ass. I still have friends here.”

  Clary straightened, but Leefe didn’t twitch a muscle.

  “I do too,” Leefe said, her voice soft, as she slowly stood. “You trained me well.” She reached across the table and took the folder.

  The cop took Mrs. Ellis’s arm, steering her toward the door, and the lawyer nodded at them.

  “You were perfect.” Rebecca hugged Leefe, but Clary saw the folder shake in Leefe’s hand.

  “Do you want me to go over that file first?” Rebecca said as they stood in the foyer.

  Leefe looked down at her hands as if she’d forgotten the file and handed it over. “Do it now. Look at it.”

  Rebecca opened the folder, reading each page thoroughly. She smiled at Leefe. “It’s all here, everything I asked for, but that woman would lie in a heartbeat. I want to verify this before we release her. I’ll text her lawyer right now.”

  Her phone chimed and she read the return text. “Good, he agrees.” She separated two sheets and handed them to Leefe. “Hang on to these. He made copies for you. I’ll call my contact up north and then get in touch with you, no matter what.”

  Leefe sank into the closest chair, engrossed in the papers. “My father was a deputy sheriff?” She looked up, disbelieving. “My mother was a nurse?”

  “It looks that way. Go have a drink, enjoy a dinner and a walk on the beach, or whatever makes you happy. I’ll talk to you soon,” Rebecca said.

  “Thank you for everything,” Leefe said with a deep breath and held out her hand, but Rebecca hugged her again.

  Clary guided Leefe down the steps, feeling her tremble beneath her fingers. Once in the car, Leefe scanned the papers again and then handed them to Clary.

  “I can barely breathe. Will you read these? It looks as if I may have some family left, but I’m afraid to hope.” She covered her face with her hands. “I can’t wrap my mind around this.”

  Clary read the information and then smiled at Leefe. “This is great. It does look as if you have family,” she said. “What would you like to do now? We can make a list of what’s needed for Devi at your house.”

  “Let’s change clothes, get everything done, and then talk.” Leefe looked at the jail. “That woman is the worst thing I live with. Nobody ever beat me like she did.”

  Clary’s heart hurt at the words, and she took a deep breath. She wanted to slap the living hell out of Mrs. Ellis. She needed to distract Leefe. Maybe the time-honored tradition of lists and shopping would do it. She started the car.

  “Tomorrow’s the Fourth, and Howie invited us for a cookout,” Clary said. “If we go, Devi needs a swimming suit. Is there anything else you can think of for her? After the store, we could swing by the day care, and I’ll help with dinner there.”

  Leefe buckled her seat belt, staring out the window. “No need for dinner. Beverly has the volunteers for the whole day. All we need to do is pick up Devi.”

  Clary nodded and drove toward the beach. “We both had crazy days yesterday. Let me tell you what I learned about Sharon yesterday,” and she began the story of sitting in the driveway with Jesse. As they changed clothes, they talked about who had said and done what. Leefe was as surprised about Sharon as Clary had been, but Kaye shocked neither of them.

  “This is my day to be dumbfounded,” Leefe said, shaking her head. “The biggest puzzle is why Sharon lied.” She locked her door behind them. “Actually, she brought that red-headed man into Linda’s bar more than once when I worked there. Do you trust Jesse on this?”

  Clary nodded. “Jesse has boundaries, especially concerning Sharon or Piper.”

  They pulled into the shopping center parking lot, and Clary thought of another distraction. “You’ll need a swimming suit too, just like Devi. We’re going to the beach before the fireworks.”

  “I’ll wear shorts.”

  “It’s supposed to be hot and then cool off in the evening.”

  “So?” Leefe grabbed a shopping cart with an irritated jerk.

  “Wet clothes?”

  “I’ll bring two pairs of shorts.” Leefe frowned at her. “I’ve never owned a swimming suit. I told you that.”

  “Why not now?” Clary flirted gently and earned an almost-smile from Leefe.
/>   They wandered through the store, found a cute swimming suit for Devi, plus underwear, socks, and other clothing on the list. This was something Clary always enjoyed in Iowa, and she shot a sideways glance at Leefe. She looked focused and more relaxed. Casually, Clary navigated to the women’s clothing, snagging a bikini off the rack, and then she held it up.

  “Look at this.” She measured it against Leefe’s body. “Yum. You’d look great in this.”

  Leefe took a deep breath. “You’re not going to quit, are you?”

  “Nope. I don’t know your size so you’ll have to try it on.”

  “All right, but you asked for this,” Leefe said, and began to shuffle through swimming suits. Clary looked over Leefe’s shoulder, shopping quietly behind her. As they left for the dressing rooms, Clary grabbed the one she liked, and prayed that it would fit.

  She hung the clothes on the hooks.

  Leefe stripped to her underwear and turned to her. “First time for a lot of things today. I’ve never used a dressing room, and I’ve never had a swimming suit. I’m all yours.”

  Clary stared at Leefe, so cute she couldn’t keep her hands off of her. “Really? All mine?” She tugged her closer.

  “Not fair.” Leefe backed away and laughed for the first time.

  “What did you expect? You light me up like a bonfire.”

  “Uh, which one do you like?” Leefe grabbed a hanger and dangled it between them.

  “This is perfect.” Clary handed her the lilac one she’d chosen. “Let me help.”

  “I don’t think so. When I get dressed, I’ll let you inside.” She opened the door and shoved Clary outside.

  Knees weak, Clary leaned against the wall outside the room, the scent of lavender twisting around her. One way or another, she would salvage this train wreck.

  Leefe opened the door, and, for the first time, looked self-conscious. She licked her lips as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t form the words, and then raised her eyebrows in a question.

  Clary grabbed a hook for balance. It covered her. Barely. Whoever designed the bikini had imagined Leefe.