"Sometimes," she muttered.
"We do the best we can." He met her gaze. "Meet me tomorrow, Adrianna. You grew up without a father. You had to live on the streets. I know you don't want that for any other child. If my daughter is out there somewhere, hungry and neglected, I need to find her as quickly as possible."
"I'll think about it," she said and then shut the door behind him.
Chapter Five
Wyatt woke up with a jolt early Friday morning, rattled by the image of Adrianna in his head. She'd haunted his dreams, with her long, curly dark hair, her soft, sweet lips and big, expressive brown eyes. Those eyes had told him a lot, probably more than she'd wanted him to know. She'd been hurt, not once, but several times, hurt by people who were supposed to take care of her. He didn't know her whole story, but he knew one important thing. She didn't trust anyone – especially him.
Adrianna wasn't the first person to doubt him. Jen's friends had looked at him with the same suspicions, as if he had a secret life, an evil side. But as Jen had found out it was easier to spread lies than to make them true. The judge had seen through her stories. So had the social worker assigned to their case. None of that mattered in the end, because a court order had just driven Jennifer to take matters into her own hands.
Over the years, he'd wondered how far in advance she'd made her plan to leave, and who had helped her, because as Adrianna had reminded him the night before, Jennifer had done a damn good job of keeping his daughter away from him.
Stumbling out of bed, he got into the shower. The pounding spray of water reminded him of the fountain where he'd met Adrianna, the moment when their coins had collided. If that hadn't happened, they never would have spoken to each other. He might never have showed her the picture. She might never have told anyone about seeing the kids.
A tingle ran down his spine at the thought of how easily they could have missed speaking to each other. His self-protective instincts warned him not to get too far ahead of himself. He still only had a seed of a clue that could turn out to be nothing, but it was more than he had had yesterday.
He hoped Adrianna would show up at the fountain later in the day. She was the link to the kids, and while it was a long shot, he felt sure he had a better chance finding them with her cooperation. But after researching him on the Internet, would she come? Would she believe his story or the lies that had been spread about him? It didn't help his case that he was a cop. She was still holding a grudge against the officer who had prevented her from saying good-bye to her dying mother, and who could blame her for that? But maybe she would put her past aside and help him. It was probably a long-shot, but he was going to gamble on her.
After getting dressed and grabbing a quick breakfast, he headed into work. He spent most of the morning working on some ongoing cases and then with Pamela's promise to cover for him, he headed out to McClellan Square.
There were tourists by the fountain, taking pictures, tossing coins, making wishes. He watched the crowd, searching for any child of the right age, but there were none in sight. The nearby schools would let out soon, and then the square would probably be swarming with kids, hopefully the three he was looking for would be among them.
It was difficult to wrap his mind around the thought that he might see Stephanie today. He'd wondered a million times what kind of reunion they would have. In his fantasy, Stephanie ran to him, throwing her arms around him, telling him how much she loved him and how much she had missed him. But would reality be the same? Who knew what lies Jennifer had told Stephanie? She could have told Steph that he'd hit her, that he'd abandoned them, that he didn't want her or that he was dead. He felt real physical pain when he considered the possibility that his daughter might think that he didn't love her or that he didn't want her.
But he couldn't dwell on that possibility now. First he had to get her back. Then he would have all the time in the world to prove how much he loved her.
Two young girls turned the far corner, and he felt a tingle run down his spine as they approached the fountain.
Were these the girls?
His heart beat faster. He didn't want to scare them, so he moved slowly and quietly, until he was just behind them. One of them swung around, giving him a fearful look. The other followed, and his heart sank. He didn't recognize either one of them.
The girls went running across the square to a woman pushing a stroller. She gave him a suspicious look and then they all headed down the street. He'd gotten those looks before. He'd spent a lot of time at places where children gathered, and he couldn't blame the moms and dads for their protective instincts. He was glad they were watching out for their children. Fortunately, his badge usually got him off the hook and once he explained why he was there, everyone offered to help out. Unfortunately, nothing had ever come of those spontaneous offers.
He felt a brief moment of defeat, but he pushed it away. He had all afternoon and the weekend, too. For the next seventy-two hours he wouldn't have to juggle his job and his search. Hopefully, by Monday he'd have Stephanie back in his arms where she belonged.
As he turned around, his optimism increased when he saw Adrianna walking towards him.
She looked like summer in her flip-flops, jeans and tank top, her hair was pulled back in a thick pony tail. His heart skipped a beat, surprising him with the one emotion he hadn't felt in a very long time – attraction.
Wrong time, wrong place, he quickly reminded himself. The last thing he needed was the distraction of a woman. His relationships for the past two years had consisted of a few one-night stands with women who hadn't expected a follow up call. He had no mental or emotional energy for anything more complicated than casual sex.
He needed to stop looking at Adrianna as a woman and think of her more like a partner, he told himself. She was just assisting him in his investigation. But his resolve did nothing to slow the rapid beat of his heart. It had been a long time since he'd let desire into his life, and it shook him that he felt anything now. He would just have to ignore the feeling. It wasn't like she wanted anything from him. She had her own baggage to deal with.
Adrianna stopped a few feet away, wariness in her eyes.
"I wasn't sure you'd come," he said, clearing his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"I wasn't sure I should come," she replied.
"You did your research."
"Yes," she admitted. "And I found everything you told me I would find. The press were really interested in your story."
"Because I work for the city and I'm a police officer. I faced enormous scrutiny, but I checked out."
"That's what I discovered."
"And you came." He felt ridiculously pleased about that fact.
"I found some good things about you, too. You ran into a burning building and rescued an old woman before the firemen could get there."
"I was the first on the scene."
"But you weren't on duty. You were just walking by."
"I don't have to be on the clock to do my job."
She gave him a long, thoughtful look. "I want to believe you're one of the good guys, but maybe you ran into that building because you like being a hero."
"Wouldn't that make me a good guy?" he asked.
"Possibly," she conceded.
"You're tough."
"I've had to be. Taking people at face value can sometimes be dangerous."
"Some day I want to hear your story."
"Well, that won't be today." She glanced around. "Have you seen any familiar faces?"
"Not yet."
"It seems like it would be a little too easy to have the girls just show up here."
"Nothing so far has been easy, maybe I'm due," he said with a sigh.
"You could make another wish," Adrianna suggested.
"I'll stick with my original one. What about you? Did you ever throw your coin in?"
"Not yet. I think I'll save it until I know what I want to wish for."
"So your wish has changed?"
/>
"Not entirely, but I did make it inside the restaurant yesterday, so that was a good first step. And I cooked last night. Second step."
"What's next?" he asked, keeping a close eye on the people coming in and out of the square.
"Still figuring that out," she replied.
"You're too good in the kitchen to quit being a chef."
"Thanks for the compliment," she said, a pleased note in her voice. "I am good, and I don't want to quit. I'm just scared."
He turned to face her. "Of what? That it will happen again? Because the odds are against that."
"I think I'm more afraid of reliving that night. Even though I've relived it a million times in my dreams."
"The fear might be worse than the reality," he suggested. "You've built it up in your mind."
"You could be right. You're probably used to seeing people who have been killed," she said, her voice a little unsteady as she hit the last word.
"I've seen a few," he said. "But it's worse when you know the person. It was just the two of you in the restaurant, right?"
She nodded. "Yes, Lindsay had just left. I came out of the break room. Will was in the kitchen. He wanted to talk to me, but I told him it would have to wait because I had promised the kids pizza. And I knew they'd be in the alley." She paused. "Will had asked me to turn the kids in, too. He was a little annoyed that I was being so stubborn about it. I never imagined that would be the last conversation we would ever have."
"What was he like?"
She seemed surprised by the question. "Why do you want to know?"
"Just curious."
"Well, he was fun. He was friendly. He always had a big grin on his face, and he was the life of any party he attended. Girls loved him, guys loved him … He was a good time." She paused for a moment. "We met at another restaurant called The Gardens. It was all vegetarian food, and while I love vegetables, I was eager to work on a broader menu. Will worked the bar there, and he decided to follow me to Vincenzo's. What if he'd never done that? What if we'd never met? He'd be alive now."
He heard the recrimination in her voice and knew that no amount of persuasion would change her mind. He'd gone down that same guilty path – hell, he was still there most days.
"Anyway," Adrianna continued. "We were friends for a long time, and then one day we were more. It was just right."
There was suddenly doubt in her voice, and he wondered why. "Was it?" he questioned.
She bristled at his question. "Of course it was. What could be better than falling in love with your best friend?"
He shrugged. "I guess nothing."
"Was it love at first sight with your ex-wife?"
"I don't remember. I was twenty-one years old. We met in college. Life was one big series of parties, finals and hookups. Reality was way in the distance. Love was a romantic fairytale, and somehow I got caught up in it. We got married after graduation. Ten years later, here I am – in my own private hell."
"You were very young to get married."
"Obviously too young."
"Maybe if your wife hadn't gotten addicted to drugs, things would have been different."
"I don't do maybe anymore," he said firmly. "I've spent too many months thinking maybe if I'd done something differently, I wouldn't be in this position. But there aren't any do-overs. It is what it is. And frankly, I don't want to talk about Jennifer right now."
"I don't want to talk about Will either."
For the next twenty minutes they didn't talk. They watched opposite sides of the square as groups of children walking home from school passed by them. Unfortunately, none of those kids were the ones they were looking for.
"Are we just going to stand here all afternoon?" Adrianna asked.
He let out a sigh. Stake-outs had never been his favorite thing to do -- too much waiting, not enough action. "I have another idea. Why don't you show me the alley where you first saw the kids?"
She immediately shook her head, a dismayed expression appearing on her face. "I never agreed to that. I don't want to go near Vincenzo's."
"You went in yesterday."
"I know, but the alley …"
"Is where you saw the kids," he finished. "Nothing bad happened there. It might help for me to see what else is around there, and it might help you, too. It's one step closer to getting you back into the kitchen."
"You could go on your own."
"I could, but if the kids are around there, they'd be more likely to show themselves to you."
A debate went on in her eyes. Finally, she gave him a short, quick nod.
"All right. Come on, before I change my mind."
* * *
As Adrianna led Wyatt into the alley behind Vincenzo's, she felt a familiar surge of panic. Wyatt was wrong when he'd told her nothing bad had happened in the alley. That's where she'd been standing when her whole life had been shattered. But as her steps faltered, Wyatt's hand centered on the small of her back, and his reassuring, solid strength behind her kept her walking. She paused when the back door of the restaurant came into sight. It was closed, and she felt immense relief that she would not catch a glimpse of the busy kitchen.
"This is it. Nothing really to see," she added, sweeping her hand around. Several other restaurants and stores backed up to the alley. There was a van parked down the street, but no one in sight. With several smelly dumpsters, it wasn’t a popular place to hang out.
Wyatt's gaze moved down the alley. "What direction did the kids come from?"
She had to think for a moment. "From there," she said, pointing her finger toward the back doorway of a clothing shop. They just sort of materialized out of the shadows. I think they might have hidden behind one of the dumpsters until I came out the back door."
"Did anyone else at the restaurant see them or talk to them?"
She licked her lips. "Will saw them the first time they came around, but I was the only one who spoke to them, and the only one who saw them that night. I'm not sure if anyone else in the kitchen had contact with them on nights that I didn't work. No one mentioned it, but that doesn’t mean it didn't happen. They're not the first homeless people to come knocking on the back door."
"I thought you said they weren't homeless."
"That's what Ben said," she corrected. "I wasn’t sure."
She saw the annoyance on his face, but thankfully he didn't put his irritation into words. She was tired of defending herself. Maybe she hadn't made the right decision, but she'd done what she'd thought was best at the time.
Wyatt started walking down the alley, and after a moment, she followed. He seemed to be making note of which door led to which business, pausing occasionally to check the stairs of a fire escape. There were some residences on the upper floors of the buildings as evidence by the curtains blowing in some of the open windows.
"Maybe they live in one of the apartments," she suggested.
"It's possible," he said. "You really didn't see them come out of any particular doorway?"
"I wish I could give you a different answer than I don't know."
"So do I," he muttered.
When they reached the corner, Wyatt looked in both directions, his gaze settling on a run-down motel a block away.
"The Fantasy Inn," he murmured, casting her a quick glance. "Doesn't look much like a fantasy to me."
No, but it looked like a lot of places she'd lived in.
"Let's check it out," he suggested. "Maybe someone there has seen the kids."
She followed him down the street to the motel, and when they entered the building, she felt like she had stepped back in time. The small lobby boasted nothing more than a chair, a half-empty snack machine, and an old coffee maker surrounded by paper cups.
The last time she'd been in a motel like this had been with her mom, just a few weeks before she'd died. Every day she'd collect loose change from the streets in order to buy a candy bar out of the machine. Every night she'd split the candy with her mom. That sweet was their midnight
treat, her mom used to say, never questioning how she'd come up with the candy or the money. There were a lot of things her mom hadn't wanted to question. Even as a little girl, Adrianna had known better than to share too much.
Shaking the memories out of her head, she watched Wyatt approach the counter. The clerk looked like a hundred other desk clerks she'd seen in her childhood, a middle-aged, balding, overweight man, who didn't look too closely at anyone or anything. The kind of guy who wouldn't get involved if someone was being hurt right in front of him.
Wyatt flashed his badge, which made the guy stand up a little straighter, and then Wyatt showed him the photograph of the kids leaving the liquor store. "Have you seen these children?" he asked.
The clerk nodded. "That's Ben. Nice kid. Comes in to get candy, doesn't talk too much. I've seen the girls in the parking lot."
"Who are they with? What room are they in?"
"They were with a woman. But she left about a week ago."
"Do you have a name?"
"We don't take names here. Everyone pays cash."
"Look, I've got some kids in trouble. Help me out here."
The clerk hesitated. "The woman said her name was Delilah, but I'm a hundred percent sure that wasn't her real name. She was here off and on for about four months." He paused. "And then there was another woman, a real looker, great legs," he said, blowing out a long whistle. "She came by a few times. Always had a big, sweet smile when she asked to use the phone."
Wyatt frowned, and Adrianna could see his patience wearing thin.
"Did you get her name?"
"Carly."
"What did she look like?"
"Dark hair, brown eyes, I think, long, long legs, the kind that could wrap –"
"Yeah, I get the picture," Wyatt said grimly. "When did you last see her?"
"A couple of weeks ago."
"Did they leave anything behind?"
"Housekeeping takes whatever is left."
"If they come back, call me," Wyatt said, handing him his card.
"I don't want any trouble."
"Then don't forget to call me, or you'll have all kinds of trouble," he warned.
When Wishes Collide Page 6