“I’m not sure what I think at the moment.” He picked up a piece of straw wrapper from the iced tea she’d ordered but never touched. “I’m afraid that if I push things she’ll change her mind and report me to the police. And then we really will have a problem.”
Her stomach sank.
“Not because I did anything wrong, but because she really thinks she loves this creep and Tatum wants what she thinks he has. A normal family. A sitcom life. She’s impressionable and naive and is willing to sacrifice anything for love,” he said, not as though he was surmising, but as though he knew.
“Did she tell you that?”
“She didn’t have to. I have eyes. And ears. And...” For the first time in a key moment, he glanced away.
“And?”
“I read her diary.”
“You breached her trust and impinged on her privacy?”
“Yes.” He was looking at her again. “I’m not proud of myself, but yes. And that very same day, I told her I’d done so. But after she met this Harcourt kid, she started to change, to snipe at me for no reason. I knew something was up and was afraid Tammy had contacted her.”
“Why not just ask her?”
“I did. She told me nothing was going on.”
“She lied to you?”
“She didn’t look me in the eye.”
“What did she say after you told her you’d read her diary?”
“We got into a fight about Harcourt.”
A fight that had clearly been ongoing ever since.
“She lied to you. Do you think she’d lie to the police?”
“Right now, after today, while she’s in his thrall, I think she could do anything to be with him.”
“So how does involving the police give her that?”
“They take her from me, she’s a fifteen-year-old in the system. Who’s going to care what boy she dates? Or even notice whether or not she’s seeing anyone on a steady basis, let alone know whether or not he’s good to her? As long as she tells her caseworker she’s happy and keeps her grades up—and covers her bruises—chances are no one will care.”
“But...”
“This kid comes from money,” he went on. “A lot of it. And he knows how to play people. He’s a real pro.”
“Isn’t it possible that he really loves her?”
“Sure it’s possible. I’m not saying he doesn’t. Who wouldn’t love Tatum? She’s the sweetest, smartest young woman I’ve ever known. I’m only saying that if my sister stays with him, he’s going to ruin her life.”
How could he be so sure? Wasn’t it possible that his past, his life with his mother, had skewed his perceptions? That he was responding in a knee-jerk way because he was afraid to trust his sister to make her own choices?
But his theory, that Tatum was trying to work the system to be allowed to see her boyfriend, while desperate, wasn’t completely crazy.
He tapped the table with his forefinger. Three times. “I would consider allowing her to stay at this...shelter, under a couple of conditions.”
“What are they?” The Stand’s guidelines were strict. To protect all the residents. They couldn’t be bent for one.
“I will pick her up every morning and drive her to school. I will pick her up from school every afternoon and return her to the shelter. Other than that, she’s not to leave. For any reason. Unless I know about it ahead of time and approve each and every outing.”
Turning a child over to her alleged abuser—even for rides to and from school—didn’t sound like a good idea. But it was a hell of a lot better than sending her home with him. At least this way they’d get her back every day. Sara, a counselor at The Lemonade Stand, would meet with her each afternoon. And they could put countermeasures in place. If Tatum didn’t show up at school, or back at the shelter at exactly the time she should, they would know who to hunt down.
Sedona didn’t believe Tanner was an abuser...
“How far is her school from here?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
Not enough time to get Tatum on a plane before they’d be on to him. Sedona had the thought—but she didn’t really think he’d try to steal her away. There was something about this guy...
“Something” couldn’t hold weight in her world. It wouldn’t stand up in court.
“If she doesn’t arrive at either place, we call the police immediately.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“What’s the second condition?”
“That you represent Tatum, but give me a chance to show you that I am who I say I am. Give me a chance to prove my innocence. Come to our home. Check me out. Spend some time with the two of us together. Spend some time alone with me. Make calls. Ask around. Get to know me. And then help me get whoever made my baby sister feel like she had to run away to a shelter to be safe. I’ll pay your regular fee for all your time involved, of course.”
His voice didn’t break. But there was a definite tremor.
A curious sensation ran through her. Spend time alone with him. Get to know him...
“I can’t promise I’ll help you. The law is the law. Black-and-white. I believe in it and I uphold it. I won’t compromise that for you.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“Your winery is in the infant stages.”
“Yes.”
“I know a bit about winemaking and I know that starting up isn’t cheap. Where would you get the money to pay my fees?” She had to find out what the man was made of. And if she couldn’t read him, she’d find out about him one seemingly innocuous question at a time.
“Tatum’s college fund, at the moment. There’s enough there to pay four years at any Ivy League school. If I use it up, we’ll get loans to pay for her college and I’ll spend the rest of my life paying them off if I have to, and it’ll be worth every cent. This is my sister’s life we’re talking about here.”
Right. No matter what Sedona was feeling personally, good or bad, the only way Tatum would be able to stay at The Lemonade Stand right away was if Sedona agreed to his crazy plan.
“I’ll call Lila McDaniels, the managing director at the shelter. She’s the one who’ll have to make this decision. She’s waiting to meet you.”
“Good, I’d like to see this shelter.”
“She’s not going to agree to that. Not tonight, at any rate. And not while you’re suspected of abuse. The Lemonade Stand is sacred. A safe place.”
“I want to see my sister.”
“Then Lila will have to bring her here.”
Sedona didn’t want to put the girl through any more that night. But didn’t really see a way around it, either. Not when they were so close to keeping her.
And seeing the siblings together, watching them interact, might clear her mind a bit where Tanner Malone was concerned.
In ten years of practicing family law, specializing in victims of domestic abuse, she’d never once, ever, felt sympathy for the abuser.
And that, she told herself, was the reason she had doubts about Tatum Malone’s story regarding her abuser.
It wasn’t because she found the accused man interesting. No, absolutely not.
“I’ll go home and get together a bag for her for school in the morning. She’ll want her curling iron and makeup and it wouldn’t hurt if she did some studying tonight, either. I can meet you all back here in forty-five minutes if that works.”
“I’ll make sure it works,” Sedona told the man. “And, Tanner? I work for the shelter pro bono. If, at some point, you hire me to press charges against someone else, then we discuss my fees. For now, I’m agreeing to take this on without pay.”
Somehow, that made it all seem a little more acceptable.
She stood as he did.
“I pa
y our way.”
“Your sister chose to come to us. And I’m choosing to take this on. But only on the specified conditions. I can’t be on your payroll and investigating you at the same time.”
With a slow nod, he turned away. Sedona watched him all the way to his truck before dialing Lila’s private line.
CHAPTER NINE
OH, GOd, Help Me. She couldn’t see Tanner. She just couldn’t. All she had to do was look at him and he’d know what she was thinking. He’d know about Del.
Shaking from the inside out, Tatum sat in the car next to Lila McDaniels and wondered why she couldn’t have been lucky enough to have her for a mother. Or maybe a grandmother. She was kinda old. Like maybe sixty or something.
Sedona would make a good mom. But she probably already had kids. And she didn’t seem old enough to have a fifteen-year-old, anyway.
“You okay?” Lila’s glance made her wish she could just lay her head down on her lap and take a nap.
“Yeah.” Putting her finger to her mouth, she almost started in on her nail. And remembered Tanner’s words. If you chew your nails, you tell people you’re uncomfortable. Besides, why start a habit that’ll be hard to break?
She’d been a kid at the time. Maybe eight or nine. Before she’d cared about nails.
She’d chewed them behind his back. Probably because, like Talia, she was her mother’s daughter. Since she’d met Del, she’d been trying really hard to break the habit.
“You don’t have to do this.” Lila’s voice was soft.
“I do if I want to stay at TLS tonight.”
“If we call the police, they might let you stay.”
Her stomach cramped at the mention of the cops again. Stupid, stupid her that she hadn’t thought about them. About being reported missing or having Lila and Sedona figure out that she wasn’t Talia.
Stupid, stupid, stupid not to see that her lie about Tanner, which she’d only told to get into The Lemonade Stand, could get him in trouble. She’d thought just the people at the shelter would know what she’d said, and since they had no idea who he even was, what could it matter?
Del would break up with her if she left TLS and went back home to Tanner. He’d broken up with her on Sunday, after Tanner had kicked him out. Until Tatum had promised to find a way to get around her brother.
Then yesterday, when she’d agreed to go somewhere else—to the shelter—he’d said he missed her so much.
She’d missed him, too. Way more than she’d ever thought she could. She’d felt as if she were going to die with every breath she took. And she’d been scared to death that he’d go off and be with someone else before she had a chance to make things right with him.
Every girl in Santa Raquel was hot for Del Harcourt. Not just because he was rich, but because he was a jock and the hottest guy she’d ever seen.
She still couldn’t believe that he’d actually chosen her. A loser Malone. Not just to hook up with, but to date. He asked her to be his girlfriend. To be exclusive. He said he wanted to marry her. And didn’t care that her parents were, like, homeless druggies or whatever.
And it wasn’t just to get back at his parents, either. Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt liked her, too. Del’s mom had even said Tatum could stay with them anytime she wanted or needed to. If, like, Tanner had to be out of town or anything.
And Tanner was screwing it all up. He’d lied to her about everything and scared Talia off and made Tatum live out on that stupid farm he’d promised they’d fix up so she didn’t have to be embarrassed every time someone picked her up or dropped her off. And then he hadn’t fixed it. And, besides that, he wasn’t who she’d thought he was at all....
Feeling as though she might need a bathroom, Tatum reined in her thoughts as Lila turned another corner. She’d said the coffee shop was only a couple of minutes away. They’d better get there quick.
And when they did, she wasn’t talking to Tanner. She wasn’t even looking at him. She wasn’t going to let him mess her up or make her feel worse than she already did. She just had to show up.
And then she could stay at TLS. And not have to talk to the police.
Even for Del she couldn’t go that far. Tanner might be a jerk, but sometimes she still loved him. And even if she didn’t, she couldn’t be like him. She couldn’t lie about who and what he was, or what he’d done.
He might not be the great guy everyone seemed to think he was, but he hadn’t hit her.
And she wasn’t going to get him in trouble. He was still her brother.
But he had to get that he had to let her stay at TLS.
She had to learn to recognize when something was abuse and when it wasn’t, and how to live with someone who’d been abused so she could be a good wife to Del.
And maybe someone could help her figure out her brother, too.
* * *
TANNER CAME BACK to the table, calm and ready to show Tatum how very much she was loved. Ready to support her in whatever way she needed.
He’d known the time would come when Tatum faced the same struggles Thomas and Talia had faced—the day would come when she’d look in the mirror and see a person born of two drug addicts, neither of whom cared enough for her to hang around, let alone felt any kind of unconditional love for her.
He’d hoped―really hoped―that his own unconditional love would have been enough. She’d only been five when Tammy left.
Tatum remembered her mother. But anytime she spoke about Tammy it was to relate a memory from the good times, the few sober minutes when Tammy would overwhelm her children with love and attention.
Sedona Campbell was the only one sitting in the late-night internet sandwich café when he returned just after nine with Tatum’s backpack in hand. He’d packed only enough to see her through this one night.
The attorney looked just as good as he remembered. Beautiful but tired...
“I heard from Lila several minutes ago. She had a hard time getting Tatum to agree to the meeting.”
He had a feeling Ms. Campbell had been instrumental in that outcome. He just wasn’t sure whether she was playing him, trying to trap him in what she believed was Tatum’s truth or if she’d agreed to his proposal with the sincerity in which he’d proposed it.
It didn’t much matter to his decision making at the moment. She was his best shot. Until he figured out something better.
And he would—figure out something better. Regardless of how attracted he felt to the woman. He knew not to rely on her.
“I assume that means they’ve agreed to my conditions.”
They hadn’t called to tell him otherwise.
“For now.”
They were all on the same page, then—settling for something they didn’t want to buy time to figure out how to get what they did want. He knew how the game was played.
He’d been playing it his whole life.
Pulling out the chair opposite Sedona at the table for four, Tanner deliberately left the other two seats, opposite each other, open, forcing Tatum, when she arrived, to sit perpendicular to him. As close to him as he could maneuver.
He settled his long legs to the side, and stared at the attorney, liking what he saw. If he had to spend time he couldn’t spare convincing someone he was a good guy, then at least he could be thankful that it might prove enjoyable. “Why are you doing this?” The question was slow and deliberate.
“I’m not convinced you hit your sister.”
“I didn’t.”
“I believe someone did.”
“I know why you’re helping Tatum. And I have a fairly good understanding of why you agreed to my plan. I’m asking why an attorney, who has her own practice, and an A-plus rating, volunteers at a women’s shelter.” He’d done his homework on her in the half hour he’d been gone. A Google search on his p
hone took a minute.
“Does it matter?”
“It does if you’re predisposed to prejudice against the accused before guilt is proven.”
It did because he was curious about her. And he wanted to believe the curiosity stemmed only from her connection to Tatum. But he realized that wasn’t the case.
“You want to know if I’m capable of giving you a fair shot.”
No. Actually, he was just curious. A fair shot hadn’t even entered his mind. “Something like that.”
“I worked with a battered women’s advocacy group in law school. Extracurricular volunteer activity was a requisite.”
“Why battered women?”
Her head bowed and Tanner watched her slender, perfectly manicured fingers smooth the edge of the wood-grain table. He was still waiting for an answer when she glanced up at him.
“My best friend in high school had an abusive stepfather. I’d see the bruises on her and I knew something was wrong, but she claimed she was a klutz. And trying to learn how to Rollerblade. And wearing too-high heels that caused her to slip on the stairs. Trouble was she wasn’t a klutz. I never saw a pair of Rollerblades in her room. And the stairs in her house were carpeted....”
The room, which had begun to fill with couples on dates and internet surfers, with kitchen noises and elevator music, faded as Tanner listened to her.
“She used to spend the night at my house once or twice a week, as often as we could get our parents to agree, but never once asked me to stay with her.”
He knew that drill. And, until Harcourt, had always strongly encouraged Tatum to bring her friends home. Because she had a home to bring them to.
He’d been able to give her that. And that should count for something.
“I don’t know what made me push, maybe hurt feelings because I wasn’t welcomed in her inner sanctum. Or maybe it was that I sensed that she needed help but couldn’t do anything until I knew what kind of help she needed. Anyway, one weekend when my folks were gone, I asked her mom if I could stay with them in place of the arrangements my folks had made.”
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