Ava sighed. “We’re not in the business of hostage taking. Look, you’ve got to trust somebody, Taylor. You can trust me or the next truck driver who picks you up. For tonight at least, I’m suggesting you trust me.”
After what seemed like unending minutes, Taylor said, “Okay. I’ll stay. But just till tomorrow.”
Ava tried not to look overly grateful at Taylor’s decision. “As I said, we’ll reevaluate.”
Ava picked up the dishes, stacked them in the sink. “One more thing...” she said.
“Yeah?”
“While I’m making up your bed, you take a shower.”
Taylor sniffed the sleeve of her jacket. “I don’t have a problem with that.”
* * *
ONCE TAYLOR LAY on the couch, she was asleep in less than a minute. Ava thought about calling her brother Carter. He was chief of police in Holly River, and he would know if any missing kids had come up on his radar. But it was the middle of the night. Carter was at home in bed. And she’d sort of given Taylor her word that nothing would be done about her situation until the morning. Besides, morning would arrive soon enough.
Ava turned on the heat in her apartment and crawled between her covers. She might get two or three hours’ sleep if she was lucky. She fell into a restless slumber with her bedroom door open. Taylor’s deep breathing comforted her. At least she’d done something for this child for tonight.
The next morning Ava padded around her apartment, making coffee and getting dressed. Taylor was still fast asleep when Ava left to attend to chapel duties. She put a note on the kitchen table where Taylor couldn’t miss it. Taylor, do not leave. I will be back soon.
During the church service, Ava spoke with Helen Carmichael, one of the “cottage mothers” the school employed to help the children in her charge. Helen and her husband, Mark, were kind people, empty nesters who had sent their own children to college and wanted to lend a hand to others. They lived full-time in the cottage assigned to them for two weeks, and then another couple took over. Each couple only worked two weeks. Managing a home with ten children, even with extra staff to help, was a serious and often painstaking responsibility.
“Helen, you currently have only nine children in your cottage, is that right?” Ava asked.
“That’s true. Have you received word that another child is coming?”
“Not exactly, but maybe so.” The Sawtooth Children’s Home, named for the mountain and the oak trees nearby, had such an excellent reputation that kids from all over North Carolina came to stay there. Often there was a waiting list. “There is one young girl,” Ava said. “I think she’s around fourteen.”
“That would be fine,” Helen said. “We’ve got six under ten and three over ten. Becky Miller is fifteen and she has a vacancy in her room.”
With that knowledge, Ava went back to her office, checked to see that Taylor was still sleeping and called Carter.
“What’s up, Ava? Everything okay over there?”
“Everything’s fine, Carter. But I think I’ve got a runaway. Claims she doesn’t know where her parents are, but I’m not convinced that’s true. Can you check your computer and see if a missing girl shows up? This one has dark blond hair, is approximately fourteen, maybe five-four, blue eyes, slim, pretty.”
“Where is she from?” Carter asked. “What’s her name?”
“Sorry. I didn’t get a straight answer from her. Overall she looks well cared for. And I know she came from some distance away.”
“I’ll see what I can find out.”
Within thirty minutes Carter had sent information to Ava’s cell phone. Attached was a picture of the young lady who was still currently sleeping on Ava’s sofa. She’d been missing for two days from a Chapel Hill address that Ava recognized as upscale.
Ava called her brother back. “That’s her,” she said. “Does she have any family?”
“Says here she’s got a father who’s looking for her. I’ve got to let Chapel Hill PD know. They may want me to pick her up.”
“I understand you’ve got to tell the police. But I’d rather you didn’t come here to get her just yet, Carter. I don’t want to spook this girl. It’s ten thirty, and I don’t expect her to wake up anytime soon. And when she does, I’m sure I can keep her here until we decide what to do. You can come by later, okay?”
“Not much later, but I’ll give you a little time,” he said.
“Thanks. By the way, what’s her name?”
“Sawyer Walsh. And you were right. She’s fourteen.”
“Thanks, Carter. I’ll call if I need you.”
Three hours later, Sawyer Walsh was beginning to stir on the sofa. She blinked her eyes open, stretched her arms over her head.
“How’d you sleep?” Ava asked her.
“Okay. Thanks for the bed. I’ll be out of your hair in a few minutes. Maybe I can take a sandwich with me.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged, but what’s your hurry? Why don’t you stay here at least for another night? You need more than one or two meals before you continue your journey.”
“I should go. I’m supposed to be in California in a week. Got friends there.”
Ava had become adept at recognizing lies. The California story was definitely made up. “Oh. California’s nice,” she said. “But still...”
Ava’s argument was cut short by the sound of a motorcycle engine followed by a persistent and loud knock on her apartment door. She turned the lock and opened the door. A man stood in the building’s reception lobby on the other side. He had an impressive build, almost an intimidating one, but it was also oddly familiar.
Ava saw the outline of an expansive chest and upper arm muscles under the black leather jacket he wore. He was tall enough to carry off the rough and tumble look, maybe six feet. His dark hair matched the stubble of beard on his face. He appeared tired as if he’d come to the school in a hurry.
Black jeans, a white T-shirt and black ankle boots with an insignia on the sides completed his outfit. A baseball cap covered his thick hair, which was mussed except for an obviously quick attempt to push coarse waves back behind his ears. When he saw her, he removed the cap, releasing strands onto his forehead. Ava swallowed. Something about this man’s demeanor and appearance was troubling although she couldn’t admit to being afraid of him. She placed her hand over her stomach to ease a tremble that had started deep inside. “Yes? Can I help you?”
“Some guy in a golf cart sent me to this building.”
Jack, their Sunday security man, she thought.
“Are you the headmistress of this place?” the man asked.
“Well, we don’t use that term so much anymore, but I am the administrator.”
His gaze darted all around the doorway. He didn’t really look at Ava. “My name is Walsh. I understand my daughter is here.”
Of course. This man’s sudden appearance was the reason for the anxiety Ava was experiencing. She had been expecting someone to come for Sawyer. Ava ignored the rustling of bed linens behind her. “Walsh? Oh yes. You’re Sawyer’s father...”
“Bingo.” The man pushed past Ava and strode into her living room. When Ava spun around to keep track of him, she saw Sawyer as a flash of sheet and blanket disappearing into the kitchen. Next the back door opened and banged against the outside wall. In four steps Walsh was in the kitchen.
“Sawyer, not another step. Stop right there.” His voice was hoarse and seriously angry, his instructions clear and his black leather getup suddenly menacing. Ava shook her head. There was something about that voice. Again, she wasn’t afraid, but she was acutely aware of his tone and inflection. Ava knew this man.
Sawyer stopped a few feet outside the door.
CHAPTER TWO
SAWYER SPUN AROUND, a look of anguish etched in her face. She wrapped the bedclothes more tightly around her, almost as a shield and scowle
d at Ava. “Thanks a lot, lady. This is what you mean by trusting you?”
“Tay... I mean Sawyer...” Ava fumbled for words. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t let you leave today. You’re obviously in trouble, and setting out on the road by yourself, hitching rides, isn’t likely to minimize that.”
Sawyer flashed a quick hot glare at her father. “And you think turning me over to this man will?”
“I don’t know.” Ava gave the man a quick appraisal. Though she was beginning to put the clues together, Ava couldn’t be completely certain that her instincts about who he was were correct. A lot of time had passed. “I can’t draw any conclusions yet.”
“Well, I’ve known him fourteen years, and let me tell you...”
“Cut it out, Sawyer,” Walsh said. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through the last two days? I haven’t slept. I haven’t eaten...”
He took a step toward his daughter. Ava’s arm shot out to stop him, a fruitless gesture really because Walsh could obviously snap her bones with a twist of his wrist. “Don’t move,” she said. “I can have the police here in a matter of minutes.” She hoped she could protect Sawyer if need be.
The man still didn’t look at Ava. In fact, other than a brief sentence at the door, he hadn’t acknowledged her existence. His attention was focused entirely on his daughter.
“Yeah, Pops, one more step and I’m running,” Sawyer said. “We’ll play a little Catch-Me-If-You-Can.”
Walsh put his fists on his hips. “We both know I can catch you, Sawyer. Not much doubt about that.”
Ava looked at the stern faces of father and daughter. She’d mediated several ticklish family situations during her two-month tenure as the home’s administrator. But none of them had seemed as fraught with as much frustration and peril as this one. “Look, Sawyer, come back inside. I’ve brought you clean clothes. You can go into the bedroom and change. Then we’ll sit down and talk about this.”
“Like that’s ever done any good,” Sawyer said.
Walsh released a long breath. Ava expected him to argue with her, but he didn’t. “Do what this lady says or I’ll haul you back to Chapel Hill on the back of my bike in nothing but that blanket you’re wearing,” he said.
Ava shot a glance at Walsh. She didn’t especially approve of his threatening technique, but at least he appeared to be supporting her directions to Sawyer.
Sawyer stood on the back lawn for several seconds breathing heavily. Then she yanked the blanket from where it trailed on the ground and stomped up the few steps to the kitchen.
“Do you have any windows in that bedroom?” Walsh asked, keeping his attention on his daughter.
“Yes, but our security system is on. The windows can’t be opened without our hearing a siren.” She caught Sawyer’s conspiratorial look. “Not from the inside anyway.”
Once Sawyer had left the kitchen, Ava realized she was alone with the overpowering presence of the girl’s father. A strange tingle worked its way down her spine. She figured she ought to be scared out of her wits, but once more, she wasn’t. Maybe because she’d grown up with two brothers, and she’d always thought she understood the male psyche fairly well. But this man, who not only looked like a biker but had driven across the state on a motorcycle, was a truly dominating figure and Ava was intrigued. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, just as she hadn’t been able to six years ago. Oh yes, she’d known him—too well at one time.
He stood in the middle of her kitchen, his eyes cast down on some spot on her wood floor, his arms crossed over his chest. He almost seemed lost in her small cozy apartment.
“Would you like some coffee?” Ava suggested, hoping he would say yes. She needed something to occupy her hands while she thought about how his sudden appearance might affect her life.
He didn’t answer right away. His mind seemed a thousand miles away. After a moment he simply said, “No, thank you.”
“I’ll have one,” she said.
“Suit yourself.”
Ava measured ground coffee into the machine. She really didn’t want coffee. Her nerves were already on edge, her senses heightened, her mind struggling to maintain a rational demeanor in light of this man’s unexpected arrival at her door. What were the odds?
She should be wondering about what she was going to do in her capacity as administrator. The ultimate goal of the Sawtooth Children’s Home was the reunification of kids with their families if at all possible. But allowing Sawyer to go with this man? A man who had lied to her when she lived in Charlotte? There was no way she could see herself letting Walsh remove his daughter from her care. She had resources. She could prevent a father from taking his own child if she sensed something about the relationship wasn’t right.
When the coffee began brewing, she heard the scrape of a chair on the kitchen floor. She turned to see Walsh sitting, his elbows on her table. “Can I change my mind?” he asked, finally settling his gaze on her face.
Those eyes as brown as an acorn. I could never forget...
“I’d like to have that coffee now,” he said.
“Of course.” She brought him a cup and set cream and sugar on the table. He used a bit of sugar and took a long sip. Ava studied his full mouth, the movement of his Adam’s apple when he swallowed. She clearly remembered when she’d seen him drink something before. In a dark place, in a city miles away. She sucked in an audible gasp and covered her mouth with her hand. There was little doubt left in her mind now.
“How did she get here?” Walsh said after drinking most of his coffee. “Did she tell you?”
Ava sat next to him out of his direct line of sight. She hoped he would keep staring into his coffee. Convinced now that she knew who he was, she didn’t want him to recognize her. Thank goodness she’d changed a lot since then. “I don’t know about the first two days, but apparently a truck driver brought her from Boone and dropped her off here last night. That’s something to be thankful for. It was past midnight when I discovered her foraging in the refrigerator.”
He nodded, took another sip of coffee. “Yeah, I’m glad that happened.” Just seeing his profile, Ava determined that his face looked drawn, tense. “Do I owe you anything for her care—food, the clothes, whatever?” he asked.
“No. Of course not. This is what I...we do here—take care of children in need.”
He gave her a quick, piercing stare that made her stomach jump, and then looked back at the liquid in his mug. “That’s what you think, that Sawyer is needy?”
“There are many different types of need, Mr. Walsh. No two children are the same, nor do they come from the same circumstances. Besides, your daughter was very hungry when she got here.”
“I get that. But believe me, Sawyer is not needy in the usual sense. If she’d put a quarter of her clothes in a suitcase, she wouldn’t have been able to drag it across the state.”
Ava had to think of Sawyer, not the past, so she asked the difficult question. “Why is your daughter afraid of you, Mr. Walsh?”
“Afraid of me?” His lips curled up into a cynical grin. “She’s not afraid of me. She hates me.”
Ava had spoken with kids who claimed to have difficult relationships with their parents, but few had used the word hate. It just wasn’t in a child’s nature to hate the person they depended upon.
Walsh leaned forward and looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Does that surprise you, Mrs...?”
“It’s Miss...” She almost said her first name and quickly avoided it. “Miss Cahill, and yes, I’m surprised. Your daughter is obviously independent and clever, and she was visibly upset when she saw you, but I haven’t witnessed an emotion anywhere near hate.”
His head jerked up. His stare intensified. “What did you say your name is?”
“Cahill.”
“No. Your first name.”
“I didn’t.” She pause
d a moment and then said, “It’s Ava.”
“Ava, huh?” He rubbed his eyes, stared at her a moment longer. “The lack of sleep is getting to me,” he said.
“Yes, I can appreciate that this has been a difficult time.”
“I doubt you can know just how difficult. As far as Sawyer hating me, just wait. I haven’t strapped her to the back of my motorcycle yet.” He glanced into Ava’s short hallway toward the bathroom. “Something I’d better do before it gets much later. Even with the windshield attached and both dash heaters going, it could get chilly out there.”
“You’ll pardon me for saying so, Mr. Walsh...”
“You might as well call me Noah,” he said. “I don’t see us becoming pals, but this awkward moment between us entitles us to use first names.”
Noah—the name of the man she’d met six years ago. The man who, in one night had changed her life. The man she’d tried so hard to forget because at the time she’d had no other choice.
She struggled to keep her voice steady, to keep her hands wrapped tightly on her mug. To show any signs of the fierce emotions battling inside her would not help any of them.
“All right, Noah,” she said, her mind grasping for any topic to lead her mind away from the turmoil it was experiencing. “I can’t imagine why you came to get your daughter on a bike. Wouldn’t a car have been more comfortable for a drive back to Chapel Hill?”
He shifted on his chair, crossed his leg on the opposite knee. “Comfortable? Yeah, but I got here in just over two hours, and a car would have taken much longer. Plus I can keep a grip on Sawyer the whole way.” He stared hard at Ava a moment as if there was something he wanted to say. After a pause, he breathed deeply. “I know what you’re thinking. Has this happened before? Well, yeah it has. Gotta say though—” he looked around the comfortable kitchen in Ava’s apartment “—this is one of the better places Sawyer has picked.”
“Ava! You in here?”
The sound of her brother’s voice put an end to further conversation. Ava stood. “I’m in the kitchen, Carter. Come in.”
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