Random Acts

by Alison Stone

  “Stay here.” Patrick turned on his heel and headed out to find Ava. His intuition told him something was wrong.

  Dear Lord, please watch over my little girl.

  Danielle’s eyes bounced from one face to another, all unfamiliar. Her heart jackhammered against her ribcage. Her mind whirled with the possibilities. She envisioned a big white van sliding its side door open and swallowing up poor Ava.

  Her throat grew thick with emotion as she imagined one scenario worse than the next. The steady stream of people swirled in a kaleidoscope of color and random images. She felt like she was floating above herself, looking down. Her fingers tingled. Calm down. Don’t overreact. Maybe Ava had made a pit stop to use the facilities. Yet Danielle couldn’t stop the dreadful images racing through her mind.

  She was on a freight train headed down the tracks to a full-blown panic attack.

  She hadn’t had one of those in years. The stable life she had carefully carved out for herself—unlike her mess of a childhood—had allowed her to control her life and her panic attacks. Now that she was letting others in, she remembered why she had worked so hard to keep people out. Caring too much can hurt sometimes.

  “Relax,” she whispered to herself as she paced back and forth in front of the booth, her eyes peeled for any sign of Ava. “Ava is okay. You’re okay. Ava’s okay.”

  A long-ago memory of Jenny and Danielle locked in a closet slammed into her mind. Huddled close, Danielle had her arm around her little sister as they rocked back and forth, fearing their mother’s alcohol-fueled rage. They had offered a prayer of mercy to God. He hadn’t answered. Not that night anyway. She corralled the painful image, realizing it only fueled her anxiety. She drew in a deep breath.

  Calm down.

  Danielle screwed up her eyes, but didn’t trust the images distorted by her panic attack. She swallowed hard. Patrick strode toward her. Her heart plummeted. He was alone. No Ava. His hard expression did nothing to alleviate her panic. She forced a smile, trying to hide the embarrassment that always accompanied her panic attacks. One fed the other.

  “Did you find Ava? Maybe she stopped by the bathrooms?”

  Patrick squeezed her forearm, his solid touch tamping her panic down a notch. “I haven’t found her yet.”

  Danielle gasped.

  “I’m sure she’s fine. What was she wearing? Pink sweatshirt and jeans, right?”

  Danielle nodded, praying her stomach wouldn’t revolt. “I’m sorry I let her go on the hayride. I had no right.” She pressed a hand to her forehead.

  He shook his head. “She probably just got turned around. Stay here in case she comes back this way. Call me as soon as you see her.” The look in his eyes was too painful. He had entrusted his daughter to her and now she was missing.

  “Okay,” she said, tiny dots starting to fill her field of vision. Slowly drawing in a breath, she strode to the far side of the booth. She found her purse and rooted through it for some bottled water.

  “How did sales go today? Did Ava make a lot of money for the charity?”

  Danielle spun around to find Bunny standing there in a crisp tan pantsuit. Once again, she felt the color drain from her face. But now was not the time to worry about what Bunny thought.

  “Bunny, can you stay at the booth?”

  Bunny’s eyes flared wide. “I was going to meet some of my lady friends for some apple pie.”

  “I shouldn’t be gone long.” She had to help Patrick find Ava. She’d go crazy standing here.

  Bunny narrowed her gaze. “Is something wrong, dear?”

  Danielle took a deep breath. “Ava seems to be lost.”

  The older woman glared at her, then rummaged through her wide straw purse. “I’ll call Patrick.”

  “He’s already looking for her. I don’t think it’s a big deal, but I’d feel better if I could help him.”

  “Go, go.” Bunny gestured in a shooing motion with her hands. “I’ll stay here in case she comes back this way.”

  Danielle’s shame would have been complete if she hadn’t been so worried about Ava. The church grounds weren’t that big. Ava was a responsible girl. If she was lost, she’d ask for help. At least she hoped so. Surely, as the daughter of a police officer, she had been schooled in basic safety protocol.

  Why did you let her run off with her friends? The thought haunted her, but she shoved it away for fear another panic attack would distort her senses.

  Danielle circled the Porta-Potties a few times, her eyes scanning each and every child’s face. Her mouth grew dry and her heart raced. She knocked on the two occupied units. Both times, adults emerged from behind the closed doors, understandably baffled by the frantic woman on the other side.

  A man with a graying goatee and a tied-dyed shirt strode purposely toward her. At first she thought he was heading toward the Porta-Potty, but he pulled up short in front of her. “Did you lose something?” he asked, a snarl pulling up a corner of his mouth revealing yellowed teeth.

  Danielle felt her brow furrow. She followed his gaze. Her heart leapt with joy. Ava was crouched down making funny faces at a toddler. Danielle would have never noticed her by the stroller if the man hadn’t pointed her out. The toddler’s mother smiled timidly in their direction. Ava didn’t seem to notice the exchange between the adults.

  Danielle let out a long breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and ran to Ava. “Honey, your father and I were worried. We didn’t know where you were.”

  The toddler squeezed Ava’s index finger. Ava wiggled it and the baby squealed in delight. “Sorry, Miss Danielle, I ran into Miss Debbie.”

  Danielle tilted her head, looking at the thin woman with dark circles under her eyes. “You know each other?”

  The woman smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. The man had joined them and planted his hand on the woman’s shoulder. The gesture struck Danielle as more possessive than affectionate. “Sure, I see Ava at the grocery store when she comes in. I’m a cashier there.” The woman hesitated. “I’m Debbie Jones. I was in your class in high school.”

  Recognition slowly dawned. The woman standing in front of her was a whisper of the feisty girl she had known in high school. “Oh, yes, how are you?” Danielle feigned an enthusiasm she didn’t feel.

  “Fine. I still live in town and this is my little one,” Debbie said.

  “Isn’t she the cutest?” Ava looked up, wiggling her fingers again, causing an infectious laugh to erupt from the child.

  Debbie’s eyes brightened with the sound.

  “Miss Debbie has photos of her baby by her register. I was so excited to meet Gracie finally,” Ava added.

  The woman smiled shyly, her eyes cast downward. She had the fidgety movements of someone who was afraid of something. “I’m sorry if you were worried, but Gracie really seems to like Ava.”

  “Yeah, we didn’t mean to worry you,” the man finally spoke. Something in his deep, dark eyes caused the fine hairs on the back of Danielle’s neck to prickle to life.

  “How did you know I was looking for her?” Unease sent goose bumps across Danielle’s arms.

  The man tilted his head as if considering. “You called out her name?” He phrased it as half statement, half question, obviously mocking her. The whole situation unnerved Danielle. She hadn’t been calling Ava’s name. Something about the man seemed familiar.

  “Do I know you?”

  The man frowned. “Aw, I’m offended.” He offered his hand and she took it tentatively. “Billy Farr. I graduated with Ava’s daddy. But of course, you wouldn’t know that. You only had eyes for football players.” Billy pulled back his lips, making a sucking noise. That’s when the name registered. Billy Farr. The drug dealer.

  Danielle glanced down at Ava, who was thankfully too enthralled by the baby to pay any attention to their conversation.

  “Come on,” Danielle said to Ava, her mouth going bone dry. Holding out her hand, she drew Patrick’s daughter toward her. She rested her hand gently on th
e child’s shoulder. “Your dad’s worried.” She tried to act nonchalant when every bone in her body screamed that this man was pure evil.

  “Don’t run off so soon. We haven’t had a chance to catch up.” He ran his hand across his goatee. “It’s a shame Jenny’s all banged up. Turns out she was the party girl, huh?” He cocked a knowing eyebrow and let his gaze drift down Danielle’s body, making her feel dirty. Debbie pretended she was distracted with the baby, but if her crimson face was any indication, she had heard each and every word.

  “We have to go.” Danielle tugged Ava’s hand.

  “Don’t be in such a hurry. Daddy is about to join the party,” Billy said.

  Danielle swung around at the same time as Ava. Ava’s smile brightened. “Hi, Daddy, I met Miss Debbie’s baby. She’s adorable.”

  Patrick’s upper lip thinned and a muscle twitched in his jaw. “She sure is. But I’m afraid we’ve taken up enough of their time.” He took Ava’s hand and pulled her away.

  As Patrick and Ava walked toward the booth, Danielle found herself rooted in place. Her head was swirling. Before she had a chance to clear it, Billy Farr leaned in close, nicotine on his breath. “Let your boyfriend know I’m not the only one with a family.”

  “What—” Danielle started to ask, but he held his hand up and pivoted on the heel of his boot. In a few long strides he had caught up with his girlfriend. Danielle stared after them, trying to process what had happened.

  Debbie followed Billy, her head bowed as she pushed the stroller. This woman had gone to school with Danielle and represented everything she’d feared becoming.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Patrick set a box of crafts on the table inside the foyer then pushed the door shut with the heel of his shoe. “I’ll bring in the rest later.”

  “Okay, thanks, Dad.” Ava slipped off her jacket and draped it over the banister. Noticing her father’s raised eyebrow, she said, “I’ll hang it up later.”

  “Okay.” Patrick grabbed his daughter’s hand, drawing her close. Pressing a kiss to his daughter’s head, he said a silent prayer, Thank you, Lord, for keeping my precious Ava safe tonight. He held her for a moment longer before she pulled away.

  “Dad,” she said, sounding affectionately annoyed, “I’m not a baby.”

  Patrick planted one more kiss on the crown of her head. “I know. Can’t I give my Snugglebugs a kiss goodnight?”

  Ava giggled. “Night, Dad.” She took a few steps toward the stairs and spun around, her thick ponytail swinging around with the motion. “Don’t be mad at Miss Danielle.” She lowered her gaze then lifted her bright green eyes to meet his. “I had so much fun on the hayride. And you were late,” she reminded him in an accusatory tone. “But I should have come right back. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry too. I’m glad you had fun.” He crouched down in front of his daughter and took both her hands. “I want you to be safe, that’s all. My job is to protect you. And sometimes even people you think you know can be bad.”

  Ava’s brow furrowed. “I was just playing with Miss Debbie’s baby.”

  “I know, sweetheart. But next time, don’t go off without telling someone first.”

  “Okay, Dad.” Ava gave her father a quick peck on the cheek. With one hand, she swung around the wood banister and landed on the first stair. “Tomorrow can we go over and see Miss Jenny?”

  “We’ll give her a call,” he said, noncommittally.

  “Make sure you come up soon so we can say our prayers.”

  “Give me a few minutes.”

  “Okay.” Ava raced up the stairs. Near the top, she grabbed the railing with both hands and leaned toward the bottom. “Make sure you thank Miss Danielle again for me. I had a really fun time today.”

  Patrick straightened and ran a hand across his neck. He turned around and found his mother standing in the kitchen doorway watching him, her features pinched. “I’m tired, Bunny. I’m going to fix myself dinner and hit the sack.” He opened the fridge and pulled out some leftovers. Bunny took them out of his hands and busied herself preparing him a meal.

  “Thanks, Mom, but I’ve got it.”

  Bunny lifted a pale eyebrow. “Let me.” She tore off a piece of paper towel and placed it over the dish before she put it in the microwave. Patrick plopped down on a kitchen chair and waited for the inevitable. His mother punched a few buttons on the microwave before spinning around. She planted a fisted hand on her hip. “Now do you understand my concerns?”

  Leaning forward, Patrick rested his chin in the palm of his hand. “In regard to…?”

  Bunny tipped her head, giving him a pointed gaze. “You let Danielle watch my granddaughter and this happens.”

  “Ava is fine.”

  “Danielle’s clouding your judgment,” Bunny said, her eyes flashing with anger. “You need to distance yourself from her.”

  Patrick let out an exhausted sigh and chuckled. “I have a job to do. I’m investigating her sister’s accident.”

  Bunny tilted her head. “That’s all it is? A job?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good.” Bunny opened the utensil drawer and pulled out a fork and knife. “Don’t let Ava get too attached. She’ll be awfully disappointed when she leaves. And she will, you know.”

  Patrick scratched his head. “I appreciate your concern, Mom, but there’s nothing to worry about.”

  Bunny shook her head and pointed at him. “You need to think of Ava. Danielle’s shown today she’s not a responsible adult. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  “That’s not fair and you know it.” He closed his eyes, hating to think what might have happened to Ava. Was his mother right?

  “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to my granddaughter.” Bunny drew in a deep breath through her nose and hiked her chin, yet her composure slipped a fraction. “Here. Eat your dinner before it gets cold.” She grabbed his plate from the microwave and set it in front of him.

  Patrick stabbed a potato with his fork. “Nothing’s going to happen to Ava.”

  Bunny patted his shoulder. “I worry.”

  He covered her hand with his. “It’s okay. There’s no need to worry.” His stomach churned, taunting him.

  Danielle’s hands trembled. She climbed the back steps of Patrick’s house and lifted her hand to knock when she heard Bunny’s strained voice through the closed door.

  “Danielle’s clouding your judgment. You need to distance yourself from her.”

  Danielle froze. Her pulse roared in her ears. Her first instinct was to turn, leave, since she was obviously interrupting a private conversation.

  She heard Patrick’s deep chuckle. “I have a job to do. I’m investigating her sister’s accident.”

  “That’s all it is? A job?” Bunny’s voice sounded uncertain.

  “Of course.”

  I have a job to do. Patrick’s honesty stung like a slap in the face. The wind whipped up, pushing leaves across the porch. The scraping noise made the small hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge. She glanced over her shoulder. The deep shadows in the darkened yard made it virtually impossible to see beyond the small ring of light seeping out from the Kingsley home.

  The conversation inside seemed to fade away, yet Danielle paused. She glanced at the pink cell phone Patrick had returned to her only an hour ago. She was supposed to give it to Jenny. Instead, she found herself here when the only thing she wanted to do was go home, pull the covers over her head and forget this day. But she didn’t have a choice. Taking a deep breath, she knocked. Patrick pulled the door open. Tufts of his hair stood on edge as if he had been dragging his hands through it.

  “Come on in.” He stepped back, allowing her to pass.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt.” More than he’d ever realize.

  “You’re not interrupting anything,” Patrick said, giving her a tired smile.

  Bunny lifted her hands. “I was just going up to bed. Night, Danielle.” She gave Patric
k a knowing glance before she turned to climb the stairs.

  “I’m sorry. I know it’s late. Has Ava gone to bed?”

  “On her way. What’s up?”

  Danielle pressed a few buttons on Jenny’s cell phone and handed it to him. Apprehension rolled over her in waves. He glanced at the message glowing on the screen.

  “Sat big nite. U need 2 make delivery—B.”

  Patrick looked up with hardened eyes. “Did Jenny see this?” He read it out loud. “Saturday big night. You need to make a delivery. B…Billy?”

  “Jenny didn’t see it. The phone was still in my purse when I heard it chime.” She crossed her arms and drew up her shoulders, trying to stave off the cold. “I’m afraid…for Jenny.” She shook her head. “The caller and number are restricted. It’s not a big leap to think B stands for Billy.”

  Patrick glanced toward the stairs. “Let’s talk outside.”

  Danielle followed him onto the porch. He braced his hands on the railing. His breath came out in a little puff of clouds. She hugged herself and rubbed her arms, trying to keep her teeth from chattering.

  He cut her a sideways glance before returning his gaze to the yard. “We never suspected Jenny of dealing.”

  Danielle bowed her head, feeling her knees get weak. She must have audibly gasped, because next thing she knew, Patrick pulled her into an embrace and ran his hands in circles over her back. She pressed her cheek against his broad chest and clung to him, a safe harbor in the storm. Eyes closed, she savored the fleeting sense of security, getting intoxicated by his fresh scent.

  Patrick was the first one to break the silence. “I don’t think Jenny’s dealing. This text right now is too convenient. Someone’s trying to shift the blame. Billy maybe?”

  Danielle drew in a deep breath and stepped back. “There are a bunch of calls from restricted numbers over the past week on this phone. What if…” Anger bubbled up. What if her sister wasn’t so innocent? She couldn’t voice her suspicions.