Love Rekindled

by Serena B. Miller

  “So, she had no family that would take her in, as far as you know,” Rachel said. “Living at Tony’s doesn’t seem like much of a life. Did she ever ask to move in here with you instead?”

  “We talked about it,” Mabel said. “But we both knew Tony wouldn’t stand for it. We’d both have been in deep trouble with him.”

  “If he didn’t want the baby, and he didn’t want her, why would both of you have been in trouble?”

  This time, Rachel had to wait while Mabel finished her piece of pie. The old woman ate every bite, and then scraped at the plate until every crumb was gone. She placed her plate on the living-room table, carefully put the plastic wrap back over the remaining pie, and then looked Rachel in the eye.

  “You ain’t too bright.” She brushed more crumbs off her light blue, polyester pants.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You ever heard of Ghosts Incorporated?”

  “Ghosts Incorporated?” Rachel said. “No.”

  “It started out as a small street gang. Then it grew,” Mabel said. “Kinda like the Heartless Felons, only the majority of the Ghosts are white. They got a few thousand members. Half of ‘em probably in the prisons. Not been around as long as some of the others.”

  “And?”

  “Tony’s the head. Some people would call him the godfather.”

  Rachel’s heart sank.

  “Take my advice,” Mabel said. “And leave sleeping dogs lie. Don’t tell him he’s got a kid. Find a nice family to raise that baby girl. And whatever you do, don’t go straight from my house to his. Please. Tony will be mad if he finds out I was talking with a cop about him. Only reason he puts up with me now is I tried to be good to him when he was a kid. That mother of his is one crazy-rotten lady.”

  Instead of going next door to talk with Tony, Rachel took a trip downtown to talk to Bill Sherman, an old friend from her Cleveland days. They’d been partners once. She’d heard awhile back that Bill had been put in charge of the gang division.

  “Tony Maddox,” Bill said, when she found him in his office. “Yeah, I know the name. Never met the gentleman personally. What is your interest?”

  Bill was in his mid-fifties, stocky, and balding. He was genial, loved his wife, and had five children he was hoping to somehow get through college. He was also smart and could, if necessary, be deadly. That was an attribute Rachel remembered a couple of bad guys not anticipating.

  In other words, he was a man whom Rachel respected and trusted. She explained the situation with baby Holly while water gurgled through Bill’s ever-present Mr. Coffee machine he kept on top of his file cabinet.

  “That Amish midwife sounds like one tough cookie,” Bill said. “I don’t suppose she’d be willing to join the force? She could work undercover. No one would ever suspect an Amish grandmother being a cop. Tell her to think about it.”

  In Rachel’s opinion, Bill’s propensity to make lame jokes was one of the reasons he had not yet buckled under the pressure of his job.

  “I’ll make sure to give Keturah your message,” Rachel said. “Now, what can you tell me about Tony?”

  Bill swung his chair around, tapped a few keys on his computer, and then studied the screen. “Strong connections with Ghosts Incorporated. He has an attitude, but was never really written up for anything. He did spend time in juvenile detention, but that was before he turned eighteen. Those records are closed.”

  Bill’s chair creaked as he shut down the computer and swung back around to face her.

  “On paper, the guy looks okay. In reality, I’ve heard rumors that he’s one of the kingpins of the organization. Lots of suspected drug activity, but nothing we can prove yet.”

  The coffee machine gave a loud, steamy sigh, signaling that it was finished.

  He stood up, went to the file cabinet, and lifted the now-brimming carafe. “Fresh made. Want some?”

  “No thanks.” Rachel shook her head. “Already had my limit.”

  He poured coffee into a dirty red and white Ohio State University mug, took a gulp and sat back down at his desk.

  “Is Tony dangerous?” she asked.

  “Of course he’s dangerous. You don’t thrive on these streets without being dangerous, or at least having lots of dangerous friends.”

  “If you find out anything else about him, I’d appreciate knowing it.” She stood up, ready to go.

  Bill held his cup up in a salute as she left.

  Going to see Tony was out of the question today for more reasons than Mabel’s fear of him. Rachel wanted to talk this whole thing over with Ed before she made another move. The law was the law. A paternal father had rights with or without being married to the mother, but turning sweet baby Holly over to someone with Tony’s background was not something she wanted to do.

  Chapter 25

  Cassie had begun to feel uneasy within moments of agreeing to go out to dinner with Bradley. That feeling lasted all day. It was one thing to have an easy camaraderie with her boss at work. It was altogether another thing to agree to go out to dinner with him. At night. After dark.

  As she got ready for the dinner date, she thought through their conversation, examining each word trying to discover why she—a strong, independent woman—had agreed to go out with him in spite of not wanting to do so.

  He had caught her off guard, for one thing. He’d also made light of his invitation with his slightly demeaning, “It’s only dinner, Cassie,” remark.

  On closer inspection, she also realized in that moment that her instincts told her that it would not be wise to turn him down. He was a nice enough person, but he was her boss. His father was a partner. If she thought about it long enough, he did hold her career in his hands.

  It occurred to her that she had fallen into the same trap that so many other women had faced down through the years—saying yes to a boss when her common sense was yelling no.

  While they were at dinner, she would make certain to show no romantic interest. She would ignore the topic of his recent divorce, and instead ask about his three small children. She would discuss work throughout the evening as much as possible and pretend that neither of them considered this a date.

  Because it was not a date.

  “It’s only dinner, Cassie.”

  He’d said so himself. Then why did it feel like a date?

  Just thinking about the corner he had backed her into made her want to say a few very unladylike words.

  Instead, she chose her outfit carefully. More dressy than she wore for the office, but nothing clingy or low-cut. There was a tan, silk dress in the back of the closet that she no longer liked. It was an expensive brand and well-made but, the first time she caught a glance of herself in a store window, she realized the color washed her out and the cut of the dress made her look a bit matronly.

  So… the tan dress, plain gold necklace and earrings, tan heels, hair pulled back in a low ponytail, her black-rimmed glasses instead of her contacts—her eyes needed a break from contacts anyway at this time of night. Elegant, but not quite date-worthy. She cocked her head to one side and studied herself in the mirror and almost laughed. She would describe the look she had achieved as that of a well-paid librarian. Expensive outfit, very intelligent… but mousey.

  When the buzzer to her apartment complex went off, she took one regretful backward look at her dining-room table before she left. It was piled with work as usual. This evening was going to be such a waste of time.

  Bradley was waiting on the sidewalk for her. He looked good, was wearing a dark, perfectly-tailored suit, and was quite the gentleman as he opened the passenger door of his sports car for her. Unfortunately, as she was hunting for the seatbelt, before he closed the door, he leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

  “I’m so glad you decided to go out with me tonight, Cassie,” he said. “I’ve admired you for so long.”

  Well, that was interesting and unwelcome. She fought the desire to scrub the kiss from her lips. As he slipped into the drive
r’s seat, another vehicle drove in right behind them.

  He hit the ignition of the low-slung car. She was not overly educated about cars, but it didn’t take an expert to know that this one was special. The motor practically growled as it prowled away from the curb. The interior smelled of expensive leather.

  This was not the kind of vehicle one purchased to cart around three little kids. This was the kind of car a man drove to impress a client… or a dinner date.

  She couldn’t help but think back to the hundreds of times she’d ridden in Michael’s black, Ford truck over the years. He had always driven a truck, even in the city.

  As soon as Bradley pulled away from the curb, he once again put his hand over hers. It felt creepy and she tensed up.

  “Relax. We’re going to have a good time tonight.” He gave her a smoky look. “I promise.”

  She was grateful when he removed his hand in order to shift—his sports car was a manual, of course. Although he didn’t wear any sort of cologne during working hours since some of the staff had allergies, he had made up for it tonight. The scent made a good attempt at being masculine, but it also made her slightly nauseous.

  Michael had never worn cologne or any other sort of scent. He said the animals he worked with had such sensitive noses that strong, artificial smells were hard on them.

  She found herself missing Michael. Quite a lot, actually. Perhaps she’d been a bit hasty…

  As Bradley swung through the dark streets of Columbus, she felt her stomach start to churn and realized she had broken out into a cold sweat. As a kid she’d gotten car sick easily, and that’s what this felt like now, only it was fast becoming the worst car sickness she’d ever experienced. Her stomach spasmed.

  “I—I think you need to pull over,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “I’m going to be sick.”

  “Oh, good grief.” Instead of showing concern, he sounded exasperated.

  They were on a side street in downtown Columbus and he pulled to the curb in front of a boarded-up store front.

  She got out of the car in a flash, managed to walk toward the back of it for a little privacy, and then lost the contents of her stomach into the street gutter.

  Bradley did not get out of the car to help in any way. Instead, he recoiled a little when she got back into the car.

  “Do you want me to take you back to your apartment?”

  “Please.” She buckled her seatbelt back on, leaned her head back against the seat and cracked the window as he pulled away from the curb.

  “Well, that’s a couple reservations that’ll go to waste,” he said.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You should have told me you were feeling ill.” He was plainly irritated.

  “I wasn’t ill before you came.”

  “You’re blaming me for getting sick?”

  “I think there might be something in your cologne I’m allergic to.”

  This did not set well with him. He drove in stony silence all the way back to her home.

  When he pulled up to her apartment complex’s front entrance, even though she had been ill, he did not get out and open the passenger car door for her. She barely had a chance to close it behind her before he drove off, leaving her alone on the sidewalk searching in her purse for her keys.

  Tomorrow at work was going to be awkward, but she would handle it. She’d have to. If she was going to eventually make partner at this firm, she’d have to make sure to find a way to smooth his ruffled feathers.

  One thing for sure, tonight had made her feel sorry for his sweet ex-wife.

  As for her, she wouldn’t be accepting any more one-on-one invitations to go to dinner with her boss. Of course, she would be very surprised if any other invitations were extended. This did not feel like a hardship to her. It was a relief.

  Apparently, there was nothing like almost throwing up in a man’s expensive car to cool his interest. She’d have to remember that ploy if she ever found herself needing to get out of future, similar situations.

  Getting away from Bradley and the smell of his cloying cologne made her immediately feel better. As she rode up in her apartment’s elevator, she couldn’t help but compare Bradley’s actions tonight against what she knew Michael’s would have been. Had it been Michael tonight and she had asked him to pull over because she was sick, he would have been out of the car in a flash, holding back her hair, offering her his handkerchief to wipe her mouth, stopping at the nearest convenience store to purchase a bottle of water so she could rinse out her mouth. He’d probably even insist on purchasing a ginger ale to help settle her stomach as well. He would have made certain she got safely inside the apartment and well-settled before he left.

  He would have cared about her.

  She heaved a great sigh. Michael was a genuinely good guy in a world swimming with men like Bradley. Maybe there was some sort of compromise she and Michael could work out. If she worked extra hard at the firm during the week, maybe she could carve out some time on the weekends.

  Those were her thoughts as she opened the door to her apartment and saw Michael standing in the middle of the living room.

  He looked so good, so handsome, so strong… so right. There was no doubt about it. She had been a fool to let this fight between them go on so long.

  “Michael!” She wanted to throw her arms around him, to tell him how much she’d missed him and apologize. “I’m so glad…”

  His look of contempt stopped her cold.

  “Well,” he said. “I guess I know why you were so willing to stay here instead of coming to Sugarcreek with me. How long has this been going on?”

  She was confused. “How long has what been going on?”

  “I’m talking about your boss. I came to see if we could figure out a compromise of some kind; a way for us to be together. When I pulled up, I saw you getting into his car. He’s the real reason you want a divorce, isn’t it. He’s been the problem all along.”

  “Michael, you’re wrong, I…”

  “Don’t you dare say another word,” he warned. “You reek of that man’s cologne! I’m done. I’m finished. You two can have each other!”

  She tried to wrap her mind around what was happening. “How long have you been here?”

  “Why are you back so soon? Did you forget your toothbrush?”

  “Michael! I never…”

  “I saw him kiss you, Cassie!”

  It took a lot to shock her into silence, but she was so astonished that she didn’t even remember to close her mouth until he slammed the door behind him.

  Chapter 26

  It began to snow again as Rachel drove home from Cleveland. Big, messy, flakes that plopped onto to her windshield and clung.

  The rhythmic staccato of the wipers created a sort of mantra in her mind. “Don’t. Let. Him. Have. My. Baby.”

  Obviously, Lily had been referring to Tony, but how was Rachel supposed to keep the baby away from the biological father? Tony might be the suspected godfather of Ghosts Inc. but gang leaders were not necessarily the ones with the longest criminal records. They needed to be smart enough to command absolute loyalty from their followers, and manipulative enough to get their underlings to do what needed to be done when it came to breaking the law.

  As she entered Sugarcreek and drove down Main Street, the small downtown area looked like something from a painting. The street lights were all lit, the decorations still on display, the pretty buildings were covered in snow. All but one business was closed—her husband’s. As she pulled into a parking space, she saw that the restaurant was bursting with noise and customers.

  “Two Home Plate Specials,” Joe called over his shoulder to Darren as Rachel came through the door. Then he saw her and his face lit up. “Rachel, could you get some water to those people at table four? I’m sorry, but I’m really short-handed right now.”

  “Sure thing.” She shook the snow out of her hair, hurried to the backroom, tied on an apron and became an eme
rgency waitress.

  The place was hopping. After all the rich foods people were accustomed to eating during the Christmas holiday, it appeared that everyone in Sugarcreek was ravenous for a hamburger.

  “Any news about our Jane Doe?” Darren asked, as he brought out a tray of soft drinks.

  “Not much,” Rachel said.

  “The man at table two wants pumpkin pie and we’re out.” Lonny, one of the teenage waiters Joe employed after school, called out.

  “What kind of pie do we have?” Darren asked.

  “Apple,” the boy said. “We still have apple pie. Everything else is gone.”

  “Then go tell him.”

  The worried-acting teen rushed off.

  “Where is Bobby?” Rachel asked.

  Joe nodded to a corner table where their son was happily coloring pictures with “Aunt” Marge, his teacher from Sunday school.

  “Marge and Bill came in tonight?”

  “They brought Bobby a coloring book and new crayons as a Christmas present.”

  “Ah,” Rachel said. “That’s sounds like something they would do.”

  “Word is out, by the way. Everyone who came in tonight was asking about your Jane Doe.” Joe expertly flipped a dozen burgers on the grill. “What did you find out up in Cleveland?”

  “She’s no longer Jane Doe. Her name is Lily.”

  “Lily? Lily what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Let’s get through this crush, and then I want to hear all about it.”

  Rachel was tired, but she didn’t mind helping out. Most of the people there were regulars. Many were people she’d known most of her life. An hour later, the crowd had thinned, but Bill and Marge were still there. Bill reading a copy of The Budget, Bobby asleep on the bench with his head on Marge’s lap. Marge sat with a sweet smile on her face as she smoothed the little boy’s blond curls with her hand. With no children of her own, Marge poured her love into other people’s.

  Rachel was cleaning off the next-to-last table when Darren came staggering out of the kitchen. His face was pale, and his eyes wide, and he was holding the receiver to their restaurant landline.