by Jan Coffey
“She never told me who my father was. At the beginning, I was too young to know the difference or ask. Later on, our lives became too messed up to matter.” His hand slid up and down her arm, warming her. “You had a name for John Rand. Even though your parents were estranged, he was still your father. I only knew a kind of tough, strange guy named Andrew Warner. I’ve never known what the hell his connection was, just that he showed up one day out of the blue and acted like he wanted to take care of us.”
Sarah felt the tension coil inside of him.
“My mother was really sick. I don’t know if it was the boozing, or the drugs, or the rough handling of her men, but I was street-smart enough to know that Andrew wasn’t coming around to get anything from her.” He laid his hand across his brow. “That scared the shit out of me at the time. I’d seen stuff like this on the street. We were living in a third-floor dump on Bainbridge in Philly. Some of these mothers…a lot of them messed up like my own, put their own kids out to start whoring for money. A lot of times, these guys that would come into the neighborhood would have money, like Andrew.
“But, the thing was…she’d never done anything like this before. In fact, anytime she brought somebody back to the one room we had, I’d grab a blanket and go up and sleep on the roof until she came after me. But I knew already that people change, even mothers. I also knew my mother was getting too desperate to care about anything.”
Sarah’s hold on him tightened. She found herself holding her breath as he talked.
“I got hold of a knife and started carrying it. Anytime Andrew came around, I’d stay away. He would bring us food, but I wouldn’t touch it. I’d see him giving my mother money, but I would get sick to my stomach thinking I knew what it was for. I stopped sleeping, even, figuring this jerk was going to come collect what he was paying for one night when I wasn’t paying attention. The friendlier he was, the more hostile and scarce I became. But it didn’t matter, he still continued to come around.”
He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “About six months after he started coming around, he took my mother to a hospital where they told me they were going to keep her for at least a couple of weeks, maybe more. Andrew wanted me to go and live wherever the hell it was that he lived then, while my mother was in detox.” Owen gave a bitter laugh. “He was lucky he didn’t get that knife in the gut that day. Instead, I just ran away. Of course, I didn’t really run away. I hung around streets of Philadelphia. I didn’t even stray too far from the neighborhood. These were the faces that I knew. And Andrew couldn’t find me.”
“My mother finally came back from the hospital, and I was waiting for her. But two days later, I saw the needle on the bathroom sink, and I knew it was only a matter of time before she’d be gone for good.”
“Did you ask her then who Andrew was?” Sarah asked.
“Yeah…well, in so many confrontational and childish words, I guess I did.” He shrugged. “But other than the fact that he was an old friend of hers, she wouldn’t say a thing more about him. And then I came home one day and she was sitting dead in a corner of the bathroom, the needle still in her arm.”
Owen drew a deep breath and stopped for a moment. She knew he was seeing that horrible place, that horrible day.
“What happened after she passed away?”
“I was going to take off again, but I was still a kid. I’d only turned ten that summer. I didn’t want to live on the streets. I knew what happened to kids there, and it was no different than the worst I could get from Andrew. So when Andrew told me that he’d taken care of things and I should go with him, I took my knife and I went with him.”
He looked down at her and touched her cropped hair.
“I was wrong about him—about what he wanted. He took me to his house, but that was quite a scene. His wife didn’t want me there, period. And she wasn’t shy about saying so. Andrew was furious, but he let her have her way for some reason. I was in and out of there the same afternoon. It was one of the longest days of my life.’
“He found me a boarding school. A prep school in Connecticut, filled to the rafters with white rich kids. That was another disaster, considering I was a street kid with a wise mouth with nothing behind me and nothing ahead of me. I was trouble from the get-go. I won’t bore you with the details, but somehow I finished there and even went off to college.”
“But you didn’t stay in college, did you?”
“That’s where the tabloids pick up Owen Dean’s life,” he answered. “No, I didn’t. I don’t know if it was pride or independence or hormones or what. Who knows? But I wasn’t even through my first semester when I realized that I couldn’t let Andrew take care of me anymore. He’d been very decent. Always paying my tuition. Continually getting me out of all kinds of trouble that should have gotten me expelled. At least once a month, he had come to see me. We’d go out to eat and talk of nothing during the entire meal. I just couldn’t understand it. I couldn’t understand him.”
He looked into her face. “The rest of it is an open book. Moving to L.A. Getting lucky doing small roles, first in commercials, then low-budget films. Acting was something that seemed to come naturally for me. Some of Andrew’s principles stuck, I suppose. While I was scrambling around for parts, I started at UCLA and over a ten-year period actually ended up with a couple of degrees. And then the career took off and life went on.”
She touched the cleft of his chin, the hollow of his throat. “Did you see much of Andrew and his wife after that?”
He laughed mirthlessly.
“Tracy hated my guts. I’d sensed it as a kid. I knew it as an adult. So I resented the fact that Andrew continued to drag her with him to L.A. at least once a year. He’d come up with any stupid reason to come, just so we could stay in touch. So yes, I did see them occasionally.” A dark flush crept up his neck. “He was the only person I had in this world. As cold and strange and unexplainable that it was, he was my only connection with the past. And the fact remained that I owed him. I owed him a lot.”
Sarah’s hand rested on his chest.
“And this is what really makes me angry about the whole thing.” He turned to look at her. “There were times in the past when I thought maybe…maybe Andrew is my father. Why else would he hang around all these years? I’d tell myself…just accept him for what he is and stop analyzing things. But you know…he’d use figurative bullshit all the time. You are a son to me, Owen, or…I want to be like a father to you.”
The words caught in his chest, and he covered his eyes.
“My pride wouldn’t let me ask him. If it was true, I wanted him to tell me. I wanted him to tell me about my mother. About who she was before becoming so wasted. For all I know, my mother could have been born in an alley with a needle already in her arm. But then again, the late sixties and the seventies were tough on a lot of people.”
Tears slid down Sarah’s face.
“Andrew had lung cancer. He would have been lucky to live till Christmas. He asked me to come to Newport, and I thought we would finally settle the past.”
“I am sorry, Owen. If it weren’t for me, my car…on their property, they would be…”
“Don’t!” he cupped her face. His fierce gaze met hers. “I lost a friend sooner than I’d hoped, but Andrew was already refusing treatments. He was going to die even before the time the doctors were giving him.”
“But you also lost the answers to your past because of what happened to him.”
“But look at what I’ve gained.”
Her lips trembled when they touched his. As he wrapped his arms around her body, she pressed herself against him until they became one.
“But I’m so scared, Owen. I don’t even dare to dream.”
“Listen, we both know about being scared. I have an idea, though, that some dreams can only happen one day at a time.”
Chapter 27
The lawyer waited for Evan Steele’s answering machine prompt to sound, then started his message.
“Hello, Eva
n. Scott Rosen calling. It’s seven in the morning. If you’re in the shower, hopefully you’ll get this message before heading downtown. We’d planned to meet at the judge’s office at nine, but I’m going to pick up my wife at the hospital before I go down there. So, we can swing by the office after I pick up Lucy, just to drop off the files. We might run a little late. It might be closer to ten. On the other hand, if you want to call me on my cell phone, I can swing by now…on my way over to the hospital. Well, whatever works for you.” He paused for a second and then added an afterthought. “Just don’t forget to shut off those security alarms before I get there.”
~~~~
The clerk at the gift shop came back on the line. “You were correct, Mr. Dean. Mrs. Rosen is being dismissed early this morning. It would better if you have us send the flowers to their residence. Do you have the address?”
“Yes, hold on a minute.” Owen thumbed through the phonebook, but the only address and phone number he could find was the attorney’s office. He gave the woman on the phone the address, anyway.
“And will that be all?”
“I’d like an identical arrangement sent to Mrs. Warner—same floor as my order two days ago.”
“You know that they won’t allow any arrangements to be delivered to the ICU.”
“Deliver it to the attention of Mrs. Joanne Emerson. She’s Mrs. Warner’s sister.”
The clerk quoted him the total cost of the two bouquets. “Anything else?”
“That’s it.”
“I’m a big fan of yours, Mr. Dean.” The girl started rattling off all the movies she’d seen him in, but Owen’s attention had turned to Sarah, coming down the stairs. Dressed in the same black dress as yesterday, with the tips of her short hair drying out at all different angles around her pale face, she looked pretty damn good for a dead woman. He watched her gaze wander around the room, taking in every corner, every window and every detail before finally coming to rest on the sofa, where the two of them had spent most of the night, talking and making love and talking again.
Before last night, he’d never opened his heart to another human being the way he had to Sarah. He’d never known what it was to want somebody for eternity. For eternity, he thought.
“Is somebody on that phone?” Sarah mouthed the question to him as he drew near.
He turned his attention back to the phone and found the young woman still talking. “I’m sorry, but I have to go now. Thanks for all your help.”
“What is this about?” She looked down at the open phone book on the countertop.
“I just sent Rosen’s wife two dozen roses to his office.”
A curious eyebrow went up.
“I forgot to tell you I met him at the gift shop in the hospital on Saturday. I asked around and found out his wife had delivered a baby that morning.”
A wry smile tugged at her lips. “What are you trying to do? Charm him, hoping he won’t sue after he finds out we’ve intentionally been keeping his client in jail?”
He winked at her. “Actually, I was hoping to get invited over for dinner, so I can rob his house.” He closed the phone book and put it away. “Are you ready to go?”
“It’s only ten past seven. Aren’t we a little early?”
“Not for what I have planned.”
“What are you up to?” She planted her feet as Owen wrapped an arm around her waist, ushering her toward the kitchen.
“Nothing. Really. I just thought we could stop at the hospital first. I wanted to run in and see if Tracy’s condition has changed at all. Then we can stop at some fast-food place where I can buy you a high-fat, high-calorie breakfast—you’re way too thin. And then we can scope out the office downtown before you go in.”
She looked convinced. “I straightened up the bathroom upstairs, but give me ten minutes here to—”
“Forget it.” He placed a kiss on her lips and started her toward the door again. “We’ll call Susan from the car and have her send in a professional cleaning crew.”
“Hey, we didn’t make that much of a mess,” she complained. “When this whole thing is over, I’m going to send a note and a gift to Susan and her family.” She cast another wistful look at the place before they walked out. “This was a very…special place.”
~~~~
Evan Steele was waiting at the top of the stairs for the office manager as she made her way breathlessly up. Seeing the rolling suitcase in the woman’s hand, he descended the few remaining steps and took it from her.
“Still refuse to take the elevator, Linda?”
“I’ve told you, walking those stairs is my only exercise, Evan.”
He hefted the suitcase. “What you got in this, a dead body?”
“Don’t joke around like that.” The middle-aged woman stood on the landing and tried to catch her breath. “This was a whole bunch of Sarah’s files that I’d taken home to sort out before we closed for the summer vacation. Some vacation.”
Steele rolled the suitcase out of Linda’s way, and the two entered the suite of offices.
“Thanks for meeting me so early,” she said, putting her purse under her desk. “I’ve had five phone calls from clients last night and two this morning, all of them asking to have certain files sent over to their new attorneys. I think that fire has everyone really shaken up. Not that anyone needs to worry. There was nothing even close to current in storage there. Did you go over?”
Steele moved the suitcase next to Linda’s desk and laid it on the ground. “Yes, I did. In fact, I’ve been beating a path from the storage facility to the police station and back again. Good thing you called me on my cell phone, or you wouldn’t have gotten hold of me.” He ran a hand over his face. “It’s been a long night. I’m looking forward to a hot shower and a shave.”
“You don’t have to stay here, you know,” the office manager called over her shoulder as she went toward the kitchen. Evan heard the sound of water running and the rattle of the coffee can. “I’ll be here when you get back. I may spend all day here, in fact. There is an awful lot I need to catch up on.”
Steele glanced at his watch. 7:35. His gaze was drawn to the suitcase of Sarah’s files that Linda had brought in.
“I know the truth about why you’re hanging around here.” The office manager smiled at him as she walked back into the office.
Steele stared at her. “Is that right?”
“You’ve been missing my coffee. That’s why you’re not racing out of here.”
“How did you guess?” He gave her a half smile, then walked to the closed blinds at the window overlooking the street. He glanced through the slit in the blinds at the already bustling Monday morning traffic. “Actually, Scott Rosen is coming around about nine to bring back some files he borrowed on Friday. I had him leave a card for everything he took.”
“I’m glad that I was able to train somebody right in this office.” He watched her kneel before the suitcase and open it. She pulled a stack of folders and placed them on her desk. “Bless her soul, Sarah used to be real good at staying organized. Doing the filing for her was real pleasure. She kept everything sorted by date and client and file number. Poor thing.”
Linda slid open the doors concealing the wall of file cabinets. “I don’t know what the heck happened to these folders, though. They were a mess. It took me forever to go through them. It looked like a tornado hit them.”
She gave Evan a glance over her shoulder. “You know, I have a feeling this was not Sarah’s work.”
“What do you mean?”
She focused on where she was putting a specific folder in the cabinet before continuing. “On August 1, I know Judge Arnold spent all day here. When I came around at noon to take some more of these files home with me, I found him at Sarah’s desk, going through her things. Now, I don’t know what he was looking for, but he acted very guilty when I asked him if there was anything I could help him with. I think this mess was his work.”
“Have you mentioned any of this to the D.A.
’s people?”
“Evan Steele.” She gave him a scolding frown over her shoulder. “You know better than to ask me what I’ve said and haven’t said to Ike Bosler. Ah, I can smell that coffee already.”
Evan watched Linda march toward the kitchenette, and he glanced again at his watch before checking the street.
There wasn’t much time left. He had to get rid of Linda, somehow, before Sarah arrived at the office. She’d specifically said she wanted to keep the whole thing quiet until she came in and found whatever she was looking for.
He couldn’t agree with her more.
~~~~
They had been sitting idly in the hospital visitor’s lot for ten minutes, at least. Sarah watched Owen reach for his cup of coffee and drain what was left in it. All the while, his gaze never wavered from the one-way entrance into the lot.
“What are we waiting for?” She whispered her question.
“Why are you whispering?”
“To get your attention.” Sarah saw him smile. She was anxious about everything that lay ahead of them today. But at the same time, she knew this was it. The end of the road. She was moving out into the open, come what may.
But they still had to get down to the office. It was still early, though, she told herself, and she knew Owen wasn’t going to let her take any unnecessary risks.
Sarah drew a deep breath. God, she hoped so desperately that they would find whatever it was that was missing. Without it, explaining her actions to the officials would be a nightmare that she wasn’t looking forward to. With no proof, it was very possible charges could be filed against her for obstruction. She didn’t even want to think about the possibility of them trying to charge her with Tori’s murder.
And then, of course, there was always the happy prospect of getting murdered herself.
“Okay, you have my attention. Now, stop that look.”
“What look?”
“Your ‘the sky is going to fall on us at any minute’ look.”