She took a breath and continued, “I’ve tried and tried to contact the parents, and Brandon doesn’t know where they went, just that they left him home alone. He’s hurt and scared. He has high-functioning autism, and he needs the reassurance of his mother or father. Doctor Blackstar said you’re good at finding people, and he said you know this town and the people around here.”
He had thought that once, too. “Go on,” he said.
“I’ll stay right here with him for as long as it takes, but is there any way you could try to find his mother or father, or both of them, for him?”
He stared at Faith, then heard a soft sigh and knew she had fallen asleep. He was so intent on watching the easing in her face and thinking about her that he almost didn’t hear Merry’s next words. “I understand if you’re too busy.”
“I’ll do what I can, but I can’t promise anything.”
“Thank you, thank you,” she said with feeling.
Then Moses was speaking. “The kid really will appreciate this.”
“Is he Bingo Sage’s boy?”
“That’s him. They’re living out by Willie G.’s old place now. Past it, on the north side. There’s a rusted-out tractor blocking the driveway. We called only a minute ago and still no answer.”
“Got any idea where to start looking?”
“Any of the bars for Bingo, and Norma just doesn’t go many places, except out to the res to visit Big Mike, her uncle, but he doesn’t believe in phones.” Michael “Big Mike” Swayne had always been on the tribal council in one position or another, and Adam knew exactly where to find him. “Okay, I’ll call you if I find either one.” He hit End on the phone and looked at Faith. He had to get her back to the inn first, then he’d try to find the Sages.
Faith Arden. A woman who had no one to care about her. As her tongue touched her lips, his mind went to dark places out of habit. Answers to questions on the job were seldom uplifting and nice. They usually confirmed the worst side of humanity. Optimism wasn’t his strong suit by any stretch of the imagination and it wasn’t getting any stronger.
She sighed again, shifting to cuddle into the corner made by the seat and the door. He saw her lip quiver slightly, then another sigh came. One way or the other, he’d figure out the puzzle that was Faith Arden. Meanwhile, he’d promised Merry Brenner that he’d track down the Sages. He focused on where to start his search.
Bars. He knew of several around town, most of them having been there since forever, and going from one to the other would be interminable. But he wanted to try a few before going all the way to the res, especially if it began snowing any harder. The roads to the res were tough at best.
There was a speedier solution, he thought, and he’d take it. He pulled over again and pushed a number into his cell phone. When a man’s voice barked, “Yeah?” Adam grinned.
“Hey, Chief, is that you?”
“Big as life and twice as natural,” Johnson Means said gruffly.
Johnson Means had been with Adam in school from the second grade on when his parents had moved off the res and into town. His grandfather, Wilson Means, had been the tribal head, and the kids had given Johnson the label Chief by default. The man did his own thing, and he was a great gossip, had something on everyone in town. “And just as ugly?” Adam countered with a smile.
“Depends who’s looking and who made this phone ring,” he growled.
“The one guy who understands why you’ve been divorced four times,” Adam said.
“Well, you old dog, Adam. I heard you were in town, but since you never came by Hazel’s, I figured it was a vicious rumor and you were off arresting the bad guys.”
Adam smiled. “And I figured you were gone, especially since you weren’t at the party. Never thought you’d be at your sister’s.”
“You were at the party?” The snort in the man’s voice said it all. Neither one had gone to the party for years.
“Believe it or not, I was,” he said, automatically glancing at Faith sleeping so close to him. “Hey, I need some help.”
“Name it.”
“You know Bingo Sage? He’s living over by Willie G.’s old place?”
“What do you need to know about the guy?”
“His son got hurt falling off a roof, and he’s nowhere to be found. Neither is the mom, Norma. I’m trying to find them for Moses and the psychologist Merry Brenner from The Family Center.”
“Hold on for a sec,” he said. Adam could hear muffled voices in the background. “Hazel says that she heard from Oscar at the store that Bingo’s a fixture at the Green Arrow lately, that old hole-in-the-wall bar over on Second Street. And Norma’s still a homebody.”
“She’s not home now.”
“Then check with Big Mike on the res.”
“Yeah, I might have to.”
After agreeing to meet up with Chief soon, Adam hung up and looked over at a still-sleeping Faith. “Guess we’ll get you home,” he murmured and was startled when Faith whispered on a sigh, “Okay.”
He’d thought she was asleep. “You all right?” he asked.
“Good, nice,” she said, and her head turned in his direction, but her eyes never opened. “Great medicine,” she added softly.
That medicine had to be better than great. Her face had eased, and he was certain she wasn’t feeling any pain at the moment. He rested his hand on her seat’s headrest, inches from her soft curls. He gave in to the urge to brush them back from her forehead. “Glad Moses could help you,” he said, a total understatement.
She touched her tongue to her lips, sighed again. “Me, too,” she mumbled.
“You just rest,” he whispered, then put the truck into gear. The tires grabbed the pavement, and snow fell gently from the dark sky.
He assumed that Norma and Bingo had some troubles, and he wondered if Faith was in the same boat and if that was why she chose to take off. He barely knew Faith, but he couldn’t fathom how any man could not want to protect her.
He concentrated on the road. It was getting hazardously slick from all the snow. He felt the oversize tires lose their grip on the pavement, and he held the steering wheel more tightly, bringing the truck to barely a crawl. He had to figure out the puzzle that was Faith Arden and he had to do it sooner rather than later.
CHAPTER NINE
FAITH WAS IN a strange world. Adam was talking to her, and his voice brushed across her like an errant summer breeze. Pain was there, hovering in the darkness, then she felt a touch, soft and light, skimming across her forehead, barely there. Adam. She just knew it. “Thank you,” she said and her mind drifted deeper.
“For what?” his voice came to her.
“You, just you,” she said, puzzled by her own words.
“You don’t have anyone who’s worried about you?” The question seemed tentative, and she wondered what kind of dream she was in. She heard Adam, felt no barriers to answering the question. A strange dream, she thought. “Just one. That’s all.”
“Who?”
The single word hung there, almost as if she could reach out and touch it. “Dad,” she admitted and felt a terrible pang of need for her father. But it softened right away and she relaxed.
“Where is he?” Adam asked.
“Home.”
“Home?”
“Oh, yes.” She sighed. “Home.” She loved that word. “Home,” she said again, hugging it to herself and feeling such a loss that she couldn’t bear the sadness.
This seemed a horrible dream. Only her own sobs could be heard, until she felt a touch, then heat all around her, arms holding her, words whispering to her. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
There was gentleness and caring in each word and it seeped into her soul. She whispered, “I...I need...” She didn’t know what she needed, except to stay here foreve
r.
Then tender fingers tipped her face up. “I just want to make things better for you. Tell me what’s wrong?”
Wrong? She was confused; she needed to make things right for her father, to obliterate those files and what they said. She was almost afraid she’d told him that. A finger came to rest lightly on her lips. “Please, just tell me,” the voice pled.
“I want to.”
“What about your dad? Is he okay? Are you okay?”
She felt sadness building again, and she wanted to run away from it all. To go anywhere. She twisted to get free, but the instant she felt the arms around her start to leave her, she panicked and reached out. She didn’t understand any of this, but she knew that if he ever let her go, she’d be lost in the darkness. Without him, she would be gone.
* * *
ADAM HAD PULLED the truck off the road partly because of the lack of traction and partly because he heard Faith start to cry.
“Don’t...don’t let me go,” she asked unsteadily.
“I won’t,” he promised and heard her sigh. He knew that the medication was playing havoc with her, but still, she’d answered some questions. He just hadn’t expected the emotion that came with them. He’d reached for her, comforting her, hoping he was calming her down. He would stay like that as long as she needed him to.
She shifted and the temptation to kiss her right there and then struck him hard. He fought it, knowing she wasn’t herself, that she was too vulnerable like this.
Then Faith touched his face, her fingers skimming along his jaw and back to the nape of his neck. Her warmth seemed everywhere, infusing him, and she came so close to him that the heat of her breath brushed his skin as she whispered on a soft sob, “Don’t let me go.” He felt her hand tug at him, trying to draw him down to her, and he fought it.
“I won’t,” he said, and he was rewarded with the shadow of a smile on her full lips. “I won’t let you go,” he repeated, something being brought to life in him with her nearness and that hint of a smile.
His arm slipped around her more securely, her head nuzzling into his neck, and he closed his eyes so tightly that bright colors exploded behind his lids. Intense didn’t begin to describe his feelings right then, the conflicts in him almost suffocating. But he held her, felt her relax more and more, and she burrowed even closer against him where his jacket parted.
There was nothing honorable about what was going through his mind right then, but when she moved back a bit, her face visible, her eyes closed and her breathing even, he allowed himself one pleasure. He bent and pressed his lips to her forehead, then he moved back as carefully as he could.
Honorable? He looked at her, settling against the seat as he eased his arm out from behind her, heard her sigh. Not even close to honorable, he thought with self-loathing. He vowed the next time he kissed this woman, really kissed her, she would want his kiss as much as he wanted hers.
Adam waited until Faith was asleep, never taking his eyes off her as he listened to her soft, even breathing. Her face still held a trace of tears, her lips still parted. He started the truck again and drove away, the street all but obliterated by the snow. A few people were still out, battling the elements, and a sprinkling of cars inched along the street.
Faith had to have been in some state between sleep and reality. When he’d held her, he’d hated the sadness he’d felt in her after she’d mentioned home and her father. A death? A desertion? She ran away? Or simply left? Or was told to go? She settled more, and he exhaled, not realizing until then how involved his emotions had become with this woman.
Adam was startled when his phone rang. They were almost at the inn, but he stopped anyway and answered the call. “Yes?”
It was Chief, and he sounded as if he was out in a storm. “Hey, Adam, got news for ya.”
He kept his eyes on Faith. “What?”
“Got Bingo Sage right here.”
“Where’s here?”
“At the Green Arrow. Got him good. We’re getting in my truck and remembered I didn’t know where you wanted him to go.”
“The hospital. Ask at the E.R. desk for Moses or Merry Brenner and they’ll get him to his son.”
“You got it,” the man said, then he yelled at Bingo, “Just get in the truck, you fool!”
“I owe you, Chief.”
“Yeah, and I’ll take whatever offerings you have when you’re in the neighborhood.”
Adam chuckled. “It’s a deal,” he said and he hung up.
The Sage boy would be okay. With Merry and Moses on his side, they’d sort out the situation at home. Things had a way of working out, he thought as he tore his gaze away from Faith and reached to put the truck in gear, but was stopped when she moaned.
* * *
FAITH KNEW she was waking up.
Everything came back in a rush, the migraine, Adam finding her, the E.R., the shot, then the pain fading. But she was still in Adam’s truck, and the notion confused her. Not in the hospital, not at the inn. That voice that she’d dreamed of, the kiss on her forehead...had it been real? No, it couldn’t have been real, not with Adam.
Carefully, she turned toward the voice and managed to focus on Adam, his features relaying his concern.
He didn’t speak, and she felt as if he was waiting for her to say something. Had she imagined or dreamed the parts about the doctor and the shot, then crying and being held? Then kissed? She finally chanced a question. “Are we going to the hospital?”
He shook his head slowly. “No, been there, done that.”
So that part hadn’t been a dream. “A shot, he gave me a shot?”
“Yes, said it would help the pain, and he gave you some pills to take later.”
“Oh.” One word was all she could manage as she closed her eyes, unable to even ask about what had happened after that. Maybe if she didn’t ask, it would just disappear.
“You don’t remember?” he said. There was worry in his tone.
“Yes, of course, but...” No, she couldn’t play that off. “I sort of remember. Some things.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. “We’re going to the inn?”
“Yes, but the snow was coming down so hard, I had to pull over for a bit to take a phone call. And then you started coming to.”
She’d made a decision to stay out of sight, to keep her distance from the people in town, to do nothing to draw attention to herself until her car was fixed. But she’d landed right in front of a cop who seemed to have a wide streak of the Good Samaritan in him. Obviously she had failed miserably at not getting involved. She pushed herself up a bit, feeling better. The pain had subsided.
“Can we go now?” she asked, badly needing her privacy, a door, a room between her and the world. She was as certain as she could be that the person holding her, comforting her and, yes, kissing her so softly on her forehead had been Adam.
“Sure, of course,” he said, “but it’s going to be slowgoing. Not much traction out there right now.”
She hadn’t expected to be so dependent on the kindness of strangers. And he was a stranger, a nice one, an attractive one, but still a stranger and a cop. And he had no idea who was in the truck with him. She was uncomfortable with that and so many other things. He’d been up-front with her ever since they’d met.
“Should we wait a bit longer?” she asked.
“I think so.”
“But you have to be somewhere for that boy, don’t you?”
He narrowed his eyes. “How did you know that?”
“I can remember some of your conversation....” she said, the words cutting through her consciousness. Adam asking someone about a man with a strange name, whose son was hurt. That hadn’t been a dream. The rest hadn’t been a dream, either. She remembered his comfort, his arms around her and her need for him.
“Y
ou must have heard me talking to my friend on the phone. He’s the one who told me where to look for the mother and father.”
So up-front with her, as always. Even in the dimness, she was unable to meet his gaze. “Then get me back so you can go,” she said.
“I don’t have to now. The friend found Bingo and is taking him to be with his son at the hospital.”
“Bingo?” she asked distractedly as she stared into the night.
“That’s his nickname, and around here nicknames are plentiful, and all of them make sense to someone. The main thing is, Bingo is going to be with his kid when the kid needs him.”
Unexpectedly, he reached out and touched her hand. The gesture was both comforting and frightening. Especially when she felt the urge to twine her fingers with his. “Yes,” she whispered.
“No one, especially a child, should be alone when they’re scared and hurt.”
She drew away from his touch and stared straight ahead, uncertain why the sadness from the dream was coming back so forcefully. She was alone. It was her choice, but part of her had wanted her dad with her in the E.R. She could understand how much a child would want and need a parent with them when they were going through frightening things.
“How...how old is the boy?”
“Eight,” he answered.
Eight had been a good year for her. She’d made wishes on every star she could see in the heavens, a wish for her father to remarry, so she’d have a mother, and he’d have someone, too. She’d shared that wish with her father when they’d been on the roof of the Chicago town house one hot summer night. She’d spotted a shooting star and he’d told her to make a wish. She had crossed her fingers and said out loud, “I wish for a wife for my dad.”
He’d chuckled at that, but it had been a poignant sound. “Honey, I don’t need a wife. I had the best, and I was so lucky. Most people never find that one true love. But the ones who do know to cherish it as long as possible and to hold onto the memory forever.”
“But, what about me having a mom?” she’d asked without hesitation.
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