“Thanks.”
Worth hurried into his office, tossed his overcoat across his arm, then went by Daisy’s desk on his way out.
“Call the airlines and get me the first available flight to Whitewood, South Carolina. And arrange for a rental car.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Call me on my cell phone to let me know about my reservations.”
“I’ll take care of the arrangements for you, Mr. Cordell.”
Ten minutes later, Worth found himself stuck in downtown traffic. Twenty minutes later just as he entered his one-bedroom apartment, his cell phone rang. Daisy rattled off details of his flight and he registered the information mentally, then set about packing. His plane left Atlanta in less than three hours.
Margaret Tompkins and Lindsey and George Dawson sat around the table in Jody Crenson’s kitchen. Half-eaten sandwiches and empty coffee cups littered the table, along with piles of money.
Margaret punched the final numbers into her adding machine, then announced, “We have collected two thousand, six hundred and forty-two dollars and twenty cents.”
“George and I want to add a thousand dollars to that,” Lindsey said as she bounced a wide-eyed Hope on her knee.
“With my thousand, that will bring our total to nearly five thousand.” Margaret wiped away a tear. “I feel as if we should be doing something more. I want to go out and search this town, house by house.”
“The police have pretty much already done that,” Jody said. “Everyone in Whitewood knows Faith and if anyone has seen anything, this reward money—” Jody eyed the stack of bills and rolled coins in the middle of her kitchen table “—should entice even the most reluctant to come forward.”
“I simply can’t believe that anyone would harm a sweet child like Faith.” A portly, fifty-something George Dawson had been little Hope’s substitute grandfather since the day she was born and both Lindsey and Margaret shared the grandmother role, while Jody was simply Aunt Jody.
“If—and I’m only saying if—the Greenville Slayer—” Jody’s voice cracked with emotion.
She could not—would not—allow herself to believe Faith was dead. Her dearest friend had been through so much in the past year. Surely God wouldn’t be so cruel as to take her away from little Hope when the child didn’t have a father. Well, she did have a father, but the heartless bastard had taken advantage of Faith and hadn’t even bothered to call to say he was sorry. Jody would never forgive the man for standing up Faith a year ago on Christmas Eve. The poor kid had sat on a bench in the town square and waited for four hours—in the snow. When Jody had found Faith at midnight, she’d been suffering from hypothermia and had been practically delirious. A week’s stay in the hospital battling pneumonia and nearly a month’s recuperation at home had come at the same time evil bouts of morning sickness had hit Faith.
Jody had wanted to call Worth Cordell and demand he take responsibility for his child, but Faith had told her she wouldn’t ask Worth for anything.
“Obviously he doesn’t love me,” Faith had said. “If he did, he would have shown up at the square on Christmas Eve as we’d planned. I don’t want him to feel obligated to me just because I’m pregnant. If he doesn’t love me, my baby and I are better off without him in our lives.”
“Don’t you worry, Faithie, you’ve got people who care about you. We’ll help you,” Jody had told Faith, and the people gathered here tonight in her kitchen had made Jody’s prediction come true. Jody, Margaret and the Dawsons had stood by Faith through her pregnancy and rallied around her and little Hope like the family they had become.
Margaret stood and placed her arm around Jody’s shoulders. “It’s all right, dear, we know exactly how you feel. Faith is like a daughter to me. I refuse to believe that she’s dead.”
“So do I,” Lindsey added. “We can’t give in to our fears. We have to believe in a miracle. For Hope’s sake, if for no other reason.”
“I’ll take the money to the bank in the morning,” George said. “And open an account for the Faith Sheridan Reward Fund. And Lindsey will contact the newspapers and the local radio and television stations first thing tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” Jody offered George a fragile smile. “I don’t know what else we can do. We’ve circulated flyers in Whitewood and all the neighboring towns and the local police have been more than cooperative.”
Hope began whimpering. Lindsey lifted the baby and laid her on her shoulder. “Margaret, warm her bottle for me, will you?”
Margaret got up immediately, retrieved a bottle from the refrigerator and put it in the microwave. “She doesn’t seem to like that formula. Sweet little thing is used to mother’s milk.”
“Faith is such a good mother. She puts Hope’s needs first. Always.” Fresh tears trickled down Lindsey’s cheeks.
The unexpected sound of the doorbell froze everyone for an instant. “I’ll get it,” Jody said. “It might be Reverend and Mrs. Simmons. They mentioned arranging a prayer vigil for tomorrow evening.”
Jody rushed out of the kitchen, through the living room and to the front door. She turned on the porch light, then peered through the window in the door. She didn’t recognize her guest. He was tall—very tall—with dark auburn hair, broad shoulders and wore a tan trench coat. She eased open the door.
“Yes, may I help you?”
“Are you Jody Crenson?” he asked, his voice a deep, husky baritone.
“Yes, I am. Who are you?”
“I’m Worth Cordell,” he replied. “I believe I’m the father of Faith Sheridan’s child.”
Jody glared at the big man as shock radiated through her body.
“You’re about a year late, you son of a bitch!”
Then she slammed the door in his face.
Chapter 2
Worth rang the doorbell repeatedly. He hadn’t come this far just to be turned away by one of Faith’s friends. If as he suspected, Faith’s child was his daughter, then he had certain responsibilities, as well as certain rights. More than anything he wanted Faith found alive and well, but either way, the child was going to need him.
The front door swung open and a stout, balding, middle-aged man stood there glaring at Worth. Three women hovered behind the man, all of them glowering.
“I’m Worth Cordell. May I come in and talk to y’all. Please.”
“Let him come in,” an elderly, white-haired lady said as she moved forward and planted her hand on her hip.
“Thank you.” Worth entered the living room, then closed the door behind him. “I stopped by the police station and a Detective Rollins told me Faith had friends who were caring for her child and were collecting reward money for information concerning Faith’s whereabouts.”
“Won’t you sit down, Mr. Cordell?” The elderly woman nodded toward the sofa.
The man, the older woman and Jody Crenson flanked Worth as he moved toward the sofa. He felt like a condemned man on his way to the gallows. The third woman, a plump, motherly brunette, held back, staying halfway across the room, but her dark eyes bored into him. Worth’s gaze zeroed in on the baby she held on her hip. His heartbeat accelerated as he stared at the little girl. She looked a great deal like his little sister Norma had looked as a baby. Curly red hair and chocolate-brown eyes. Oh, God! No doubt about it—this child was his!
“Sit,” the man ordered.
When Worth sat, the threesome formed a semicircle around him.
“I’m George Dawson,” the man said, then indicated with a hand gesture first to the older woman, then to the younger. “This is Margaret Tompkins and Jody Crenson.” He glanced across the room. “That’s my wife Lindsey and…” George cleared his throat. “The baby is Faith’s little girl, Hope. We’re Faith’s friends.”
“We’re Faith’s family.” Jody frowned at Worth.
“You said you went by the police station,” Margaret said. “Did you learn anything new about Faith’s whereabouts?”
“No, ma’am, I’m sorry, there’s
nothing new to report.”
“What are you doing here?” Jody asked.
“I saw your interview on the news at noon today,” Worth replied. “I felt I had to come, to see if I could—” All eyes focused hostilely on him. “Faith was…is…I had no idea she had a child.”
“If you had bothered to show up last Christmas Eve, she would have told you she was pregnant,” Margaret said.
“Why didn’t you show up, Mr. Cordell?” Lindsey asked.
“Because he’s a low-life scum who didn’t care anything about Faith.” Jody jumped up out of her chair. “He used Faithie and dumped her. I don’t think we should even be talking to him.”
“Is Jody right, Mr. Cordell?” Margaret asked.
Worth suddenly understood how a man felt when surrounded by a lynch mob who had already tried and convicted him without a hearing.
“I cared about…I care about Faith. I honestly believed that she was better off without me. If she’s told you anything about me, y’all know how we met and—”
“You rescued her from rebels in Subria who had kidnapped her and the Constantine child,” George said. “Yes, we know about that. And we know how you make your living. But Faith told us what a good man you were. She’s never said one unkind thing about you. Not even when you didn’t keep your promise to her.”
“I was in the hospital.” Worth felt a sudden need to defend himself. “I’d been critically wounded on a job assignment. They kept me highly sedated, so I didn’t come out of it and know where I was until Christmas Day last year.”
“Why didn’t you call Faith then?” Lindsay asked.
“Because he’d never meant to show up at the square on Christmas Eve—” Jody snapped her head around and pierced Worth with her sharp glare “—did you?”
“I had planned to meet Faith, to explain why—Look, what does all this matter now? I stayed away because I truly believed Faith was better off without me. I had no idea she was pregnant, that I was a father. If she’d told me, I—”
“You really don’t know Faith at all if you think she would have tried to use a baby to trap you into marriage,” Jody said. “She loved you. She thought you loved her.”
Worth didn’t know how to respond, didn’t have any idea how to defend himself against their accusations. He was guilty as charged. After being released from the hospital last year, he should have contacted Faith; instead he’d taken the easy way out.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when Faith needed me. If I could change things, I would, but I can’t. But I’m here now and I intend to stay until we find out what happened to Faith.” Worth glanced at the baby who had laid her head against Lindsey Dawson’s shoulder and fallen asleep. “May I see my daughter?”
“What makes you think she’s yours?” Jody asked.
Margaret shook her head. “Jody, dear, you mustn’t—”
“He can’t waltz in here now and claim Hope. He has no right to assume he can play daddy when it’s convenient for him.” Jody looked from Margaret to George to Lindsey. “Are y’all forgetting what this man put Faith through?” Jody turned to Worth, her eyes narrowed, her nostrils flared. “Faith went to meet you in the square that night. It was raining and the rain turned to snow. She waited for you for four hours, sitting out in the snow. When I found her she had hyperthermia and wound up in the hospital with pneumonia. And she was pregnant!”
A guilt-ridden pain tightened in Worth’s gut. He should have known she’d wait for him hour after hour. Damn it—he should have known!
“Our little Faith is such a romantic,” Margaret said. “She convinced herself that you were her white knight, her rescuer and protector. She never considered the possibility that you were just an ordinary man or that you weren’t as much in love with her as she was with you.”
Lindsey Dawson came forward, but when she started to hand Hope to Worth, Jody grabbed the child away from Lindsey.
“Maybe you aren’t Hope’s father,” Jody said. “You have no proof that you are. We aren’t about to turn Hope over to you.”
“If I’m not Hope’s father, then who is?” Worth asked.
“Now isn’t the time to play games with this man,” George said. “Jody, let him hold Hope.”
Reluctantly Jody handed the sleeping child over to Worth. As his muscles tightened, his body went rigid. He hadn’t held a baby since he’d been a kid and held his little sister. Norma had been eight years younger than he—his half sister—and he’d taken care of her when his stepmother had been too drunk to look after her own baby. And that had been just about all the time.
Worth held little Hope as if she were made of spun glass. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything as beautiful. She looked like an angel. Tiny, helpless and sweet beyond belief. His child. He didn’t need anyone to tell him she was his. Didn’t need any blood or DNA tests. Faith had been a virgin when they’d made love, and there was no way she would have turned to another man so quickly after they’d been together. Jody was right—he didn’t know Faith all that well. They’d shared a very brief relationship, having been together for only a few days. But he did know how good and kind and sweet Faith Sheridan had been. Had been? God, she couldn’t be dead!
Worth closed his eyes as he held Hope against his heart. The clean, delicate fragrance unique to babies assailed his senses. And an overwhelming feeling of possessiveness claimed him. This tiny bundle lying so trustingly in his arms had been born from the passion he and Faith had shared.
“I…uh…I’ve checked into the Whitewood Motel out on the strip,” Worth said as his big hand cradled Hope’s small, round head. “I’m planning on staying in Whitewood until we find out about Faith. I’d appreciate it if y’all would let me know when you hear something from the police.” Reluctantly Worth handed Hope back to Lindsey.
“We’ll let you know as soon as we hear anything,” George said.
Worth stood. “I’d like to come by and see my daughter tomorrow.”
“Hope will be at Toddle Town Day Care,” Margaret told him. “Lindsey is helping out there temporarily…until Faith comes back.” Margaret choked with emotion.
“Toddle Town?” Worth asked.
“Faith’s business,” Jody replied. “She owns Toddle Town Day Care and keeps Hope there with her. Hope is used to everyone who works there and they’re all giving her lots of special attention.”
“May I come by tomorrow to see Hope?” Worth looked to Lindsey.
She offered him a tentative smile. “I suppose that would be all right.”
“Thanks.”
George walked Worth to the door, then stepped out onto the porch behind him. When he reached up and put his hand on Worth’s shoulder, Worth tensed.
“Son, you’ve got to understand how the ladies feel. Our little Faith was counting on you and you let her down. My wife and Margaret and Jody aren’t going to make things easy for you. You’ll have to prove yourself to them.”
“I understand. And thank you, Mr. Dawson.”
“Call me George.”
“Thanks, George.”
Barney Jeffries crept down the alley between Clanton and Mooresville Streets in Sparkman. In the morning the sanitation department would empty all the Dumpsters in town, so he had only tonight to sort through the trash and find any usable items discarded by others. In his experience, this particular Dumpster usually yielded the most bounty. Once he’d even found a gold wristwatch that he’d been able to hock for nearly fifty bucks. Some idiot’s loss had been his gain.
As he neared the Dumpster, Barney looked around for something he could use as a step stool. A stack of empty crates piled up in the corner by the back door of Dottie’s Diner caught his eye. After dragging one of the crates across the alleyway and to the Dumpster, Barney climbed up, tossed back the lid and crawled over inside of the huge garbage bin. The stench would bother most people, but not Barney. He’d grown used to the odor and even the worst smells didn’t turn his stomach. A man had to possess a strong constitution in or
der to go rummaging around in other people’s trash.
Barney removed his flashlight from his back pocket and shined the light left to right, back to front, searching for any tidbits that might rest on top. He did a double take when he saw the white arm lying limply atop a black garbage bag. Holy-moley! He aimed the light at the arm. Human. And by the size, either a child or a small female. Oh, this wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. He moved the light up the arm to the shoulder. A sinking feeling hit him in the belly. The light moved over the shoulder, up the neck and onto the face. A woman. A young woman with her eyes closed. She was dead. Had to be dead. Otherwise why would somebody have dumped her in the trash? His hand shook so badly he dropped his flashlight. Better get it, he told himself. If the police found it, they’d check for fingerprints and he’d be in deep trouble.
When Barney reached down to retrieve his flashlight, which had fallen by the woman’s hip, he noticed her chest rise and fall. She was breathing. She wasn’t dead!
“Hey, lady.” He nudged her hip with the flashlight. She didn’t respond. “I can’t help you. If I do, they’ll run me in for sure and put me in jail. I’m sorry. Really, I am. But I tell you what I’ll do, I’ll call for help. I swear I will.”
Barney crawled out of the Dumpster, hopped down on the crate and then onto the concrete pavement. Leaving the Dumpster lid open, he hurried out of the alley. He glanced all around, then ran across the street to a pay phone. Taking a dirty rag from his coat pocket, he lifted the receiver, inserted a quarter in the slot and dialed 911. When the emergency operator responded, the machine coughed up his quarter, which he quickly rammed into his pocket.
“Yeah, there’s a half-dead woman in a Dumpster over on Clanton and Mooresville.” Before the operator could say a word, Barney hung up the phone, dashed out of the booth and scurried up the street as fast as he could go.
Worth slept fitfully, tossing and turning, dreaming about Faith. His subconscious played half a dozen different horrific scenarios inside his brain. Each time he was within arms reach of Faith, a moment away from saving her, she disappeared. Vanished. And each time, Worth awoke in a cold sweat.
12 Stocking Stuffers Page 3