Baby, I'll Find You

by Jennifer Skully

  Mrs. Bagotti’s mouth drooped in a frown, and she shrugged. Then she raised just her eyes to look at Jami. “She’s never any trouble, you know. We’ve never had to worry a moment about her. But she’s become so willful lately.” Biting her lip, her gaze slid toward the hallway down which Darryl had disappeared. “We had a bad fight with her last night.” She dropped her voice as if she were about to share some terrible secret. “She says she doesn’t want to be an accountant. She wants to be an artist. Her father’d told her to throw out that silly doodle pad of hers, but there it was, right in her backpack.”

  Jami cringed. She’d given Andrea the silly doodle pad before the girl went home last night. Did Jami have a hand in creating this current problem? Maybe she should have dealt with things differently. It might not have been such a hot-shot idea to go on and on at the donut shop about making your own rules and living your own dreams.

  She’d get all freaked out and guilt-ridden later. Right now she needed to figure out what happened and convince Mrs. Bagotti to call the police. She’d seen a show on A&E about what could happen to teenage girls at truck stops, and granted, she came from a long line of drama queens, but Andrea was sixteen, and Jami hated the thought of her out in the big wide world all alone.

  So did her mother. All Jami had to do was get her to do the sensible thing and contact the police.

  “Mrs. Bagotti, try to think, where would Andrea have gone?”

  Dropping her face into her hands, the woman muttered into her palms. “We just wanted her to see what Fresno State was like. My sister’s girls go there, and they could show her around.”

  “But why would you do that in the middle of the school week?” Jami didn’t understand the rationale.

  Raising her head, Mrs. Bagotti’s eyes misted, tears spilling over and trailing down her cheeks before she wiped at them. “It was the fight. My husband doesn’t like to be contradicted. It’s a tiny fault.” She winced as she said it. “He’s normally a very caring man, and he only wants the best for her. He just wanted her to see how nice the university was, how she’d fit in when the time came. So she’d stop thinking about this whole art thing. It’s no good for her.”

  Yes, such a caring man, bullying his daughter into doing what he wanted, without regard to her desires or needs.

  The lady hiccupped. “Andrea was so whiny about it. I don’t understand. She’s usually such a good, mindful girl. She knows how much Darryl needs from us, and she’s always tried not to be a burden.”

  It was as Jami thought. Though the Bagottis loved their daughter, they expected her to toe the line, cause no trouble, and avoid being an additional burden. That’s what she’d tried to tell Cole before they...got distracted. For Andrea’s sake, she had to put aside her feelings about that night. She glanced at him. Tall, filling the small room, he wore a forbidding frown and a grim set to his mouth. He darn near vibrated with tension, and she knew he was having trouble keeping his mouth shut. Oddly, her stomach fluttered with the thought that he actually trusted her to handle the situation.

  “Let’s focus.” She dipped her head to meet Mrs. Bagotti’s gaze. “She was supposed to go to Fresno, your husband put her on the bus, but she never got there. Where would she think about going?” She wasn’t about to mention foul play and cause greater concern. “Was there any place she talked about? A friend who moved away?” She covered the woman’s hand. “You’ll need to give the police all these details to help find her. Your husband checking the bus stops along the way isn’t enough.”

  “I know, I know,” the woman whispered, wiping her eyes. “He just doesn’t want people to think he’s a failure and can’t handle problems.” Then she sat straighter, sniffed one last time and pulled herself together. “She doesn’t have a lot of friends, and I can’t think of any who’ve moved away that she would have run to. Her grandparents are all gone, there’s only my sister in Fresno. We don’t have other relatives she’d turn to.”

  Jami bit her lip, thinking.

  “Do you know what she took with her, ma’am?” It was the first thing Cole had said since entering the house, and Mrs. Bagotti jumped at the deep sound of his voice.

  “I”—her hands fluttered in the air—“she took her backpack filled with a couple days’ worth of clothes, I guess.”

  “What happened to her sketchbook?” He was a few feet away, but without even the hint of a smile to soften his face, Cole’s blue eyes looked black.

  “Well...I suppose it’s in her room.”

  “She put it in her bag, Mom.” The boy Darryl stuck his head around the corner of the hallway wall. Cole must have known he was there. “I saw her.” He clutched a brightly colored Rubik’s Cube to his chest.

  She shushed her son. “I told you to go to your room.” Punctuating that with a flap of her hand, she turned back to Cole. “What difference would her doodle pad make?”

  Jami wished she’d stopped calling it that. The drawings meant so much more to Andrea.

  “Was there an art college she was interested in attending?” Cole persisted.

  Mrs. Bagotti made a face. “We couldn’t afford an art college.”

  The discussion was starting to take on the tone of a browbeating. “Is there anywhere else—” Jami cut herself off and gasped.

  “What?” Cole barked.

  “The list.” Two pairs of eyes focused on her. “Remember, Cole? The Great Wall of China?” He nodded, and she turned back to Andrea’s mother. “I helped Andrea come up with a list of things she wanted to do before she—” Okay, saying it was things they wanted to do before they died wasn’t appropriate. “Once-in-a-lifetime things she wanted to do or places she wanted to visit.” That sounded better.

  Cole rolled his hand in the air. “And this is important because?” He finished with a raised brow.

  “She wanted to go the Louvre and the Smithsonian and the Anasazi cliff dwellings at Mesa Verde.”

  “The Anasazi cliff dwellings?” Andrea’s mother repeated. “Whatever for?”

  “She said it would be a sweet trip.”

  Cole made a face. “Sweet?”

  “It’s like neat or cool or awesome.” At least that’s what Jami thought it meant.

  “So you think she’s gone to Colorado?” Cole just shook his head.

  “No—”

  “She said she’d take me with her,” Darryl said over the top of Jami’s voice.

  “Darryl, please, go to your room. This is adult talk.”

  Jami put her hand on Mrs. Bagotti’s arm as the woman shook her finger at Darryl. “Maybe he can help. Andrea might have said something to him.”

  His mom relented and signaled for him to enter the room.

  The boy shuffled out from the hallway where he’d been hiding. He was almost a man, but with his endearing sheepish smile, she still wanted to think of him as a boy. Clutching his Rubik’s Cube tighter, he gazed at Cole with big, beautiful brown eyes.

  “Darryl,” his mom snagged his attention, “Did Andrea say anything about where she might be going today?”

  Shaking his head, he looked at Cole again.

  “Where did she say she’d take you, Darryl?” Cole kept his voice low and dropped the glower he’d used on Mrs. Bagotti.

  “Everywhere.” Darryl smiled at them, then turned the full wattage on Cole as if he’d accepted him in the blink of his eye. It was the most marvelous sight, and Jami could swear Cole melted under that adoring gaze.

  “Did she mention San Francisco, Darryl?” Jami had an idea.

  “No.” He rubbed the Rubik’s Cube on his arm, almost like a talisman. “Just all of ‘em, that’s what she said, she’d take me to all her special places.”

  That could be anywhere, not merely the ones Andrea had listed.

  “Why San Francisco?” Mrs. Bagotti clasped her hands in her lap, perhaps to avoid fidgeting.

  “She wanted to see the Salvador Dali painting in the Legion of Honor,” Jami answered.

  The woman’s eyes went wide. “What
ever for?”

  Whyever not? Because Andrea had done a lot of research on the museum. Because the girl loved art. She was an artist, not a doodler. Her mother obviously didn’t have a creative soul. Neither did Jami, yet she understood how gazing at something beautiful could feed an artist’s imagination. Jami was absolutely sure the Bagottis had never nurtured Andrea’s unique artistic soul, so she couldn’t adequately explain to this woman why Andrea might have gone to the Legion of Honor.

  “There’s a taste of Dali in Andrea’s work, ma’am.” Ah, but Cole understood right down to his very bones. Must be the music connection. “If seeing that painting, being this close to it”—he held up his thumb and forefinger half an inch apart—“was at the top of her list”—he spared a glance for Jami—“then Jami could be right.” He allowed several beats of silence to sink in. “Isn’t it worth a try?” he asked softly.

  Mrs. Bagotti worried the inside of her cheek, something she probably did often. She was the nervous type. “I suppose,” she whispered. “I could call her father.”

  Dammit, why did she leave everything up to Mr. Bagotti? Make a decision, call the police, do something. Jami held the words in. Belittling her wouldn’t do Andrea a bit of good. Jami’s decision came easily. She’d go to the Legion of Honor herself. It was the least she could do. She hadn’t been wrong trying to bolster Andrea’s flagging self-confidence, but she should have learned about her family dynamics before jumping in to coach the girl.

  “I’m from the Bay Area,” she said. “I can make a quick trip back to check it out. But...” She squeezed the woman’s arm gently, waiting until Mrs. Bagotti raised her gaze. “You have to let the police know she’s missing. You can’t wait until your husband gets home. She’s been gone almost the whole day.”

  “I—”

  Jami didn’t let her finish. “Please.”

  Drawing a deep breath, Mrs. Bagotti closed her eyes. “You’re right. I’ll call. I promise.”

  Relief flooded Jami’s chest. “Thank you.” From her purse, she pulled out one of her old business cards that still had her cell on it. “Here’s my phone number in case you need me. May I have your number so we can check in? I’ll leave right away.”

  “Can I come with you?” Darryl asked, bouncing on his toes like an excited child.

  Cole reached out to ruffle his hair despite the fact that Darryl came almost to chin height. “Your mom needs you here. While your dad’s out, you’re the man around the house, ya know.”

  Jami’s heart literally skipped several beats. This was how he would have been with his daughter. Caring, gentle, building up her psyche, not tearing it down.

  “Right,” Darryl agreed, smiling proudly. “Mom needs me.”

  “You bet.” Cole nodded in return. God, what a father he must have been. Her heart ached for what he’d lost. She’d been so angry with him earlier, but now, she couldn’t summon an ounce of it.

  Jami stuffed her heart back in her chest and rose. “I better get going then.”

  “Wait.” Darryl rubbed her arm with the Rubik’s Cube. “This is to protect you.”

  “Well, thank you, Darryl.”

  “Andrea said it was very special because she grabbed it especially for me.”

  The Rubik’s Cube had been in the grab bag. For Darryl, the gift was a talisman because it came from his sister. Jami smiled. “It’s very special. Thank you for sharing its power with me.”

  “Do you think she might try going to the cliff dwellings?” At least Andrea’s mom was starting to sound proactive.

  “Tell the police about it, but San Francisco’s a better bet.” Jami tipped her head. “How much money did she take?”

  “I think her father gave her a hundred dollars.”

  “I’m sure the police will want to know that, too.”

  Mrs. Bagotti gave a last sniff. “I’ll call them right away, I promise.”

  If she didn’t, Jami would call them herself. “Do you have a picture I can have?”

  Snagging a framed photo off the TV entertainment center, Mrs. Bagotti pulled out a school picture.

  Jami tucked it into her purse. “Thank you. I can ask at the Legion if they’ve seen her.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Cole said on the front path after Mrs. Bagotti had closed the door behind them.

  Jami didn’t miss a stride. “Don’t be silly. I can check out the place.” She stopped at the side of his truck.

  He stood just beyond the pool of light from the street lamp. “I said I’ll come with you.”

  “Why?” She didn’t care why. She wanted him with her in a pathetic hopeless way, as if by having him in the car with her for three hours, she could make him see his life differently.

  They’d had sex, slept in his bed, exchanged intimacies, but he’d been living in his own hell for so long, it had become his way of life. He wouldn’t know how to give it up for more than a few moments.

  “Does it matter why?” Cole said.

  It had taken him so long to answer, she’d almost forgotten her question. “No. It doesn’t matter. If you want to come, you can come.” She opened the truck door. “But I play music while I drive, and I like to sing, too, so you’ll have to deal with it.”

  “I can deal.”

  He rounded the tailgate and climbed in beside her, then stopped with his key midway to the ignition. “What if she’s already come and gone?”

  She covered her ears. “I don’t want to think negatively before we even start.”

  But really, what if...

  * * * * *

  Frank sat in the dark, slouched in his easy chair. On his lap, Ruby snored softly, snuffled, wriggled, then settled again.

  It had been a lark. Getting Cole and Jami worked up about Andrea would bring them together. He knew Jami could be good for Cole if the dumbass gave himself half a chance.

  Only catastrophe had come true. That’s what happened when you messed with things. He said Andrea had a problem, and boom, he’d actually created one. He couldn’t get over that his meddling had somehow gone from step A to B to X, Y, and Z. Something bad had happened to the cute kid, but that phone call from her dad just felt wrong. Big-time wrong.

  The cell vibrated in his hand. He’d turned off the ringer so it wouldn’t disturb his precious darling as she slept.

  “Yo?”

  “Frank, we’re going to San Francisco so you’ll need someone to fill in for Cole tomorrow. Maybe even a couple of days if we don’t find Andrea right away.”

  He held the phone away from his ear and looked at it as Jami went on explaining something that didn’t make any sense.

  “What the hell are you going there for?”

  “Didn’t you hear me? Andrea’s missing. She didn’t go to Fresno.”

  Okay, he’d heard that, but... “What happened to her?”

  “If we knew that, Frank, she wouldn’t be missing.” Her tenuous hold on patience came over the phone clearly. Jami sighed just as Ruby snuffled again. “It’s too hard to explain everything, but we think she ran away, probably to San Francisco, and her parents are calling the police, while we’re getting a jump on getting up to the City, okay?”

  “Uh...yeah. Get a replacement for Cole.” He didn’t have to understand why to at least do that. “When are you leaving?”

  “Tonight. I want to be there first thing in the morning. Gotta go,” she said, “Things to do.” The phone’s digital display showed she’d disconnected.

  Frank couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Andrea was missing, she’d run away, and Cole and Jami were going to San Francisco.

  He held the phone to his chest with both hands and closed his eyes. “Dear God, please keep Andrea safe, let them find her and while you’re at it, if you could see your way to getting Jami and Cole together, I’d really appreciate that, too.”

  In his lap, Ruby sneezed.

  “God bless,” he whispered.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Jami jogged down the stairs in Isadora Winter’s ho
me with her notebook computer under her arm and a small canvas bag Isadora had lent her for the short trip.

  Cole slugged the rest of his green tea out of a precious Tom Jones teacup. He’d been afraid of breaking the delicate china in his big hand. On top of that, the honey he’d added hadn’t helped the bitter taste, but his hostess had insisted he needed a cup to fortify him for the long trip.

  He needed something to fortify him after agreeing to spend several hours trapped in a confined space with Jami. Her scent, her voice, the proximity with no way out would drive him insane. Except that he was already insane for having touched her.

  “Thanks for the tea, Isadora,” he said.

  “You’re welcome, young man.” She turned to Jami. “I still think you should leave in the morning. It’s dark out there.”

  “I like night driving,” Jami insisted. “And we can make better time with only semi-trucks on the road. Besides, we’ll be there just after midnight if we get a move on.”

  “You should let him drive. That’s the only thing men are good for,” she whispered so loudly Cole could hear every word.

  “You know they’re good for other things,” Jami replied, and he saw the moment the sexual innuendo in that occurred to her. She glanced at him, then Isadora, and forced out a breath.

  “Whatev-ver,” Isadora replied with a definite teenage lilt to the word. “Take this.” She slipped a CD case in the opening of Jami’s canvas bag. “It should keep you awake. I mean, no one can listen to Tom Jones and fall asleep.”

  Jami kissed her cheek. “You’re a doll. I’ll call in the morning so you know we’re safe.” Then she set down her bag and shook her finger. “And if you hear Mr. Rogers again, I want you to promise to phone the police, got it?”

  Isadora cupped her hand to her ear. “Hark, I hear Betty calling the exorcist now,” she said in singsong, then lowered her voice to whisper, “They’re coming to cleanse the house tomorrow.”

  Cole decided not to ask.

  Outside, Jami stowed her computer and bag in the SUV’s cargo space. After waving good-bye once again to Isadora, she climbed in, and followed him over to his place. They’d take her 4Runner since his truck hadn’t seen a road trip since the odometer flipped over to two hundred and fifty thousand miles.