Copper Lake Encounter

by Marilyn Pappano

  After exchanging looks, both girls trudged toward the hallway and the room Sophy had indicated.

  Sophy set two cartons of milk and a pitcher of tea on the counter, took four glasses from the cabinet and then sighed. “Oh, my God,” she whispered.

  “First time for you?”

  “Is it that obvious?” Sophy’s headshake was rueful as she filled two glasses with ice and then poured tea and slid one across to Nev. “I love kids, and all the kids I know love me. But these two...I don’t know why I thought I could handle them.”

  “They don’t know you yet,” Nev said gently. “They’re scared kids who apparently try to intimidate everyone they meet. When I grabbed that little girl, she was screaming bloody murder, and no one paid her any mind. None of them knew who I was. I could have been kidnapping her, and they didn’t care.”

  “They knew she was a Holigan. In this town, that’s enough.”

  “Tough family to be from?”

  “Very. Everyone looks down on the Holigans.” Sophy took a plate and saucers from the cabinet and then transferred the contents from a take-out box to the plate: cookies in a half dozen varieties, pastries, a few fruit tarts. Just the sight was enough to remind Nev that breakfast had been a while ago.

  Together they set the small table dwarfed by the window behind it and then sat down to wait for the girls to return. Sophy selected an oatmeal raisin cookie, broke off a few chunks and ate them, took a breath and then smiled. “So, Nev, tell me about yourself. And about you and Ty.”

  Chapter 5

  The day shift officially ended at four-thirty, but in the detective division, it was more a guideline than an actual quitting time. The patrol and traffic division and the services division had staff on all three shifts; anything they didn’t finish could be handled by the next one. Not so for the detectives.

  Usually it was closer to five, sometimes even later, when Ty left, but today he was out the door at four-thirty-one. Kiki looked up as he passed her desk and called, “Hey, Gadney, what’s the hurry? Off to see a pretty woman?”

  “Two of ’em, in fact.” He grinned but didn’t slow his steps. “See you guys tomorrow.”

  He ducked into the locker room to pick up his gym bag—he usually worked out on his lunch break—and when he came out, she was leaning against the wall. “Two? One of them wouldn’t happen to be named Nev, would she?” She fell in step with him as he headed for the door, matching him stride for stride.

  Ty warily glanced at her. “How do you know Nev?”

  “I met her at breakfast. She mentioned meeting Pops and you.”

  Irritation prickled the back of his neck, but he waited until they were outside to vent it. “Most people call him Mr. Gadney, his friends call him Obadiah and his grandchildren call him Granddad. No one calls him Pops.”

  She made a show of shrinking away. “Ooh, so sorry. I noticed Nev calls him Mr. Obadiah. Isn’t that old-fashioned?”

  “It’s respectful. It’s the way we were raised.” Ty had intended to leave his truck in the lot and walk over to Sophy’s, just to check on things, but with his luck, when he came back to get it, Kiki would still be here. Better to make his escape now.

  The beeping of the door lock was almost lost in Kiki’s voice. “So you knew her growing up?”

  “No.”

  “Then how do you know how she was raised?”

  “It shows in all of us. Trust me.” He tossed his bag in the back floorboard and then faced her. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Without waiting for a response, he climbed in and closed the door.

  She remained in the parking lot, hands resting on her hips, as he drove away. A couple of blocks later, he parked down the street from Sophy’s and stopped in the store. “She’s upstairs,” the clerk said, glancing up from her sewing.

  He wouldn’t stay more than a few minutes. Sophy was the closest friend Kiki had in Copper Lake, so it wasn’t unusual for her to drop by on her way home. Given her attitude toward kids, those visits would surely taper off while Daisy and Dahlia were there. At least, he hoped so. There wasn’t a cop in town whose disdain for the Holigan family matched Kiki’s.

  After taking the steps two at a time, he rang the bell and then heard the click of the lock. “Hey, Ty,” Sophy greeted in a soft voice.

  “Well, you’re still in one piece. No broken bones, no bleeding, no tooth imprints in your skin?”

  “I’m intact. Come on in.” She waited for him to enter and then locked the dead bolt again and pocketed the keys. She’d gotten caught in an attempt on her sister’s life last Christmas, with the lasting result that she was more safety-conscious now. That would come in handy with the kids. “Dahlia and Daisy are napping or being very quiet and pretending to nap. I’m not sure which. Either way, they’re in their room and not attempting another escape.”

  “How’re you doing?”

  She hugged her middle. “Okay. I knew it wouldn’t be easy. I just thought it would be easier than this.”

  “I never knew you were interested in fostering. What made you decide to do it?”

  Her smile was sweet to offset the eye-roll. “I’d shut a lot of stuff out of my mind until my sister came to visit last Christmas. I’d forgotten the foster homes and how scared we all were and that moment when I realized I would never see my brother or sisters again. I was lucky to wind up adopted by parents who really do love me as if I were their own. I just wanted...to give back. Sounds a little idealistic, doesn’t it?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being idealistic. Granddad would say we should strive to live up to our ideals.”

  “So this is my striving.” She shrugged. “Do you want to see if the girls are awake?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be quiet.”

  “They are, too.” She mimicked Dahlia’s posture, scowl and voice. “They don’t talk to nobody.”

  Ty followed Sophy through the living room and to the short hallway that led to the bedrooms, where the first door was open. Pale green walls, twin beds, bedding in white and green stripes, shelves filled with books, baskets with toys. Dahlia and Daisy shared the same bed, eyes closed, mouths parted, soft snores, each small hand clenching a bedraggled flower. They looked as sweet as any five- and six-year-old girls in the world.

  Lord, how that changed when they were awake.

  Once he and Sophy were back in the living room, he asked, “What’s up with the flowers?”

  “Your friend, Nev, had them in her shopping bag. Daisy saw them, recognized one as a daisy and asked for it. Nev gave them the whole bouquet.” She chuckled. “Dahlia was miffed that there weren’t any dahlias in it, not that she would recognize one if it bit her, but she finally settled for a carnation.”

  Something sweet curled around Ty—satisfaction that Nev had made such a kind gesture to two strays who wouldn’t even speak politely to her. The care she’d taken with them, with his granddad, even with Frank, said nothing but good about her.

  “She’s a very nice woman,” Sophy commented. “I like her a lot.”

  He was sure she couldn’t see his face warming, but she laughed as if she did. “You like her a lot, too. Good for you. Have fun this evening. Just keep your phone turned on in case I have to send out the superhero signal.”

  Puffing out his chest, he fisted his hands on his hips and lowered his voice to an exaggerated bass. “I’ll be here faster than a speeding five-year-old.”

  Sophy was still smiling as she let him out the door and then watched from the stoop as he went down the steps. He walked quickly to his truck, drove straight home and let Frank out and then walked over to Granddad’s. It was a habit: a glass of iced tea, catching up on each other’s day, sharing some treat that Granddad had made or, more likely, one of his many admirers had delivered. Women had been trying to hook up with him for forty years.
They’d kept him entertained and fattened up, but not one of them had gotten further than that.

  “You free for dinner, son?” Granddad asked as they settled on the porch underneath the paddle fan.

  “Not tonight. I’ve got a date.”

  Sharp eyes turned his way. “Not with that last girl, I hope.”

  “Nah. I’m showing Nev around town.”

  Granddad’s smile was so broad that his eyes practically disappeared in the creases. “Good, good. I like her. I don’t understand why she isn’t married with a passel of children.”

  Ty didn’t, either. He was just glad she wasn’t.

  He told Granddad about the morning experience with the girls, and the old man laughed. “I never thought I’d see the day when a five-year-old girl would get the better of you.”

  “A five-year-old Holigan,” Ty pointed out. “That’s the equivalent of a twenty-five-year-old felon from most families.”

  “I never understood that family. Just one generation after another of troublemakers who don’t care about nothin’ but themselves. Not even the babies they bring into the world.”

  “You ever hear from Sean?”

  Granddad shook his head. “I’d tell you if I did.”

  They sat in silence for a moment and then Ty pushed to his feet. “I’d better get going. You need me to bring you anything?”

  “Nope, I’m just fine. You have a good time.”

  Back at the house, he called Frank inside, put out fresh water and a bowl of food and then showered. At ten till six, he was ready to leave, except for one thing. That errand taken care of, he said good-night to the dog, sprawled on the couch watching TV, got in his truck and drove to the motel. When he knocked, a faint call came from inside, and then a moment later, Nev opened the door.

  She wore a white dress that clung to her rounded breasts, nipped in at her small waist and then flared over her hips to end a few inches above her knees. Her legs were bare, and she wore white sandals that must be her equivalent of walking shoes, with a heel of only two inches. Her hair was smooth, the ends curling under slightly, a white band securing it back from her face.

  She was gorgeous.

  She looked at him expectantly, and he realized she’d said something while he was taking in the view. When he met her gaze, she said, “How lovely. Are they for me?”

  Blankly he looked down and saw the flowers he’d cut from the beds at home. He’d chosen zinnias in bright reds, oranges and yellows, each one as big as his palm, and stuck them in a glass pitcher from his cabinets.

  “How did you know I love flowers?” she asked as he offered them to her.

  The duh-ness of the question broke the spell that seeing her had cast, and he laughed. “Aw, come on. You love old folks, kids, people in general, dogs and good home cooking. Unless you’re allergic, how could you not love flowers, too? Besides, I know you bought some for yourself today and then gave them to Daisy and Dahlia.”

  She set the pitcher on the dresser beside the television and then moved it to the nightstand. After turning it a time or two, she stepped back, satisfied, and picked up her purse. “Thank you so much. How are the girls?”

  “About what you’d expect from hellions-in-training. They’ve been through this too many times before, and they don’t give anyone an easy time of it, including themselves.” His jaw tightened as he waited for her to close the room door, and then he led the way to his truck. “This time they’ll be in the system long enough to learn some other ways to cope.”

  His pickup had four-wheel drive and was high enough off the ground to make getting in and out a challenge for anyone as short as Nev. He opened the passenger door and then extended his hand. She took it, her fingers so small and delicate compared with his, and balanced carefully on the running board, and then she slid into the seat. She swung her legs in last, and he couldn’t help but smile appreciatively.

  When he climbed behind the wheel, she picked up the conversation where they’d dropped it. “Is their mother going to lose custody?”

  “I don’t see how she can avoid it. This is her second time making meth in the house with the kids. She should have gone to prison the last time, but the judge cut her a break.”

  “Those poor babies. What about their daddy?”

  “Never been around. I’m not sure anyone knows who he is, including their mom.” He turned east on Carolina Avenue. “On a cheerier subject, you like barbecue?”

  “What Georgia-born-and-raised woman doesn’t appreciate good barbecue?”

  He kept to himself the fact that Kiki didn’t like the restaurant he’d picked for tonight. She thought it too old, too smoky, too dirty, too messy. The one time he’d taken her there, she had ordered a salad—in an old-fashioned barbecue joint, for Pete’s sake—and then complained about it. Granddad had warned him then: don’t date a woman who doesn’t know good food when she sticks it in her mouth.

  Man, he should have listened.

  “Good. We’re going to a little place outside of town that’s been there since Granddad was a boy. Been run by the same family all those years, too. Granddad took me there my first Saturday night in town, and every one after for years, until I was old enough to want to spend those nights with my friends instead.”

  “I love family traditions,” Nev replied with a dreamy look. “I’ve always intended to have a lot of traditions when I have my own family.”

  “How many kids do you want?”

  “Three’s a nice round number. Four’s fun. But five and a set of parents can fit in a minivan.”

  “Aw, man, you had me until the minivan. You know, you can get seven in some SUVs, too.” He turned off the highway onto a narrow road that became dirt a half mile before it reached B-Jay’s Smoke Shack. The parking lot was half-filled with everything from old trucks held together with baling wire and duct tape to a couple of Cadillacs and one Mercedes. B-Jay’s clientele included pretty much everybody.

  He helped Nev out of the truck—a habit he could get used to—and then walked inside with her. “Hey, Ty. Sit wherever you want,” a waitress called on her way to the kitchen.

  Ordinarily he would opt for any of the tables, but with Nev trailing behind him, he chose a round booth, barely big enough for two adults, maybe squeezing in a kid, too. It was in the corner, a little bit away from the occupied tables, and beneath a ceiling fan that lazily swept the incredible flavors of smoked meat through the air.

  After they settled in and ordered their drinks, he said, “I understand you met Kiki today.”

  She emptied fake-sugar packets in her tea and stirred it with the straw. “I did.”

  “And?”

  “She’s a little forceful, isn’t she?”

  His chuckle was rueful. “That’s like saying a hurricane is a bit of a breeze. She’s a good cop. She’s just not...”

  “Warm and cuddly?”

  “Yeah.” He’d always had a fine appreciation for warm and cuddly. He’d just headed down the wrong path with Kiki and found it tough to find the detour back to normal.

  “She seemed...nice enough. A little more blunt-spoken than I’m used to. Except, of course, with Marieka. They would probably hit it off.”

  Another waitress took their meal order and asked about Granddad, and then she angled for an introduction to Nev. Ty had known the woman most of his life; he could see the approval in her expression before she gave him a thumbs-up as she left.

  Nev saw it, too. Her pretty smile left no doubt.

  “How long will you be in town?” He’d talked to her a lot but hadn’t asked that one question. Maybe because he knew the visit was short-term. Her home, her job and her family were back in Atlanta. Vacations always ended.

  “I’m going back Sunday.”

  Damn. That didn’t leave a man a lot of time. It was a good thin
g he didn’t mind driving, because every time he saw her, he found more about her to like. He could see himself burning up the road between Copper Lake and Atlanta for as long as it took to find out what was between them. What could be between them.

  Because if they let ninety miles or so keep them apart without exploring the possibilities, Ty would seriously regret it.

  * * *

  After a wonderful dinner of pulled pork so tender that it practically melted in her mouth, a tangy smoky sauce that was dang near addictive, coleslaw with the perfect combination of sweet and tart flavors and baked beans that had simmered for hours, Nev needed the exercise provided by the stroll downtown. It was the perfect end to a perfect evening.

  They had made a couple of large loops around the business district, Ty passing on information and interesting bits of history, and were now approaching the square a half block ahead. “You said your granddad took you to B-Jay’s your first Saturday in town. So you weren’t born here?”

  “Nope. Lived in Macon until Mama died. We came here to visit every chance we got, though, so it was kind of like coming home when I moved here.”

  “Except your mother wasn’t with you.” How sad for the little boy he’d been. She’d been a grown woman when her daddy died, but it had still broken her heart. She hadn’t been sure she could live without him to turn to, to give her advice and hugs and unconditional love.

  “Granddad and I grieved together. She was the youngest of his four kids, the only one who’d moved away, the only one who died before him. He was strong, though. I couldn’t have made it without him.”

  She trailed one hand along the wrought iron fence that encircled River’s Edge, the antebellum mansion overlooking downtown. The street ahead was Oglethorpe, and just a few hundred yards to the left was Hanging by a Thread and, in the well-lit apartment upstairs, Sophy Marchand, Daisy and Dahlia.

  “You were blessed, you know. So many kids don’t have anyone.” Like those poor girls.

  Ty followed her gaze, studying the windows for a moment before asking, “Could you do it? Take in other people’s kids?”