A Father for Danny

by Janice Carter

  “Skye might be able to steer you in the right direction or give you some advice.”

  Sam made a face.

  “What’s that for?” her mother asked.

  “Nothing. I thought I might call Skye, but I’m sure she’s far too busy for something like this. Besides, I have to talk to Danny’s mother first. She may have a problem with him searching for his father.”

  “Well, of course you have to do that.” Nina paused. “When was the last time you spoke to your sister?”

  “Christmas.” Sam leaned against one of the French doors separating the living room from the hallway and knew what was coming.

  “Samantha, that was five months ago. What’s happened between you two, anyway?”

  “Nothing, Mother. You’re reading too much into it. She lives in another part of the country.”

  “But you’re sisters. Twins. You’re supposed to be close.”

  “Is that what the psychology books say?”

  “Don’t be sarcastic, Samantha. It’s not becoming and I don’t deserve it.”

  “Sorry. But being twins doesn’t mean we have to be joined at the hip.”

  “Don’t exaggerate. You know what I mean.”

  “Yes, I do. It’s just that whenever Skye and I are together the whole competition thing kicks in, and I’m tired of it.”

  “It’s normal for siblings to be competitive. Especially twins, when they want to establish their own identities.”

  “I’m talking perverse competition, Mom. Obsessive. Whatever you want to call it. And Skye is always the one to initiate it.”

  “I’ve been hearing refrains like that since you both were twelve. And you’re still saying it at thirty-three.”

  “You’re right, Mother. There’s no point in belaboring the point. I have to go now, anyway.”

  “Anywhere special?”

  “Just meeting Dawn for a drink.” She turned to leave, but was held back by her mother’s next question.

  “Any word from Todd these days?”

  “Nope,” she said, fighting to keep her voice level. “I told you, it’s over. Finito. See you next week,” she said, waved goodbye and made a quick exit before her mother could ask another question.

  THE PHONE RANG just as Sam was removing the bubble-pack taped around a rare, framed Japanese print. She glanced sharply at the console but didn’t recognize the number. Her client, Jean Mawhinney, pointed at the phone. “Go ahead,” she said. “I can wait another five minutes.”

  Samantha gently set the package down on her desk and picked up the phone. It took her a moment to recognize the high-pitched voice. Danny.

  “My mother wants to meet you,” he said. “Can you come to Our Lady of Mercy Hospital at ten-thirty?”

  “I have a client right now, Danny. And it’s already ten. Can I call you back?”

  “But ten-thirty is good for Mom because she’ll be finished with her bath and stuff. If you wait any longer, it’ll be time for her morning nap and—”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be in school right now?”

  There was a pause, followed by a muffled response Sam couldn’t hear. She noticed Mrs. Mawhinney eyeing the package she’d been patiently awaiting for three months.

  “Look, Danny, this isn’t a good time. How about after lunch?”

  When he finally answered, he sounded as exasperated as she did. “I wasn’t going to be here after lunch.”

  “Do you need to be there when I talk to your mother?”

  “I guess not,” he muttered.

  “So what time does your mother have lunch?”

  “Noon.”

  “Okay, I can be there about one.”

  “She might be napping again.”

  Sam exhaled loudly and noticed Mrs. Mawhinney’s startled expression. She smiled an apology at the petite, middle-aged woman and said to Danny, “I’ll be there at twelve-thirty, Danny.” Then she hung up. “Sorry for the interruption, Jean. Shall we see what we’ve got here?”

  “Oh, yes, Samantha,” Jean said as she rubbed her dainty hands together in anticipation.

  hE WAS STANDING next to the information desk in the hospital lobby and wearing what Sam already identified as his trademark scowl. She felt a surge of annoyance. Wasn’t she the one being inconvenienced by this last-minute interruption in her workday?

  “She’s really tired so I don’t know how much time we’ll have before she’ll need her nap,” he said as Sam drew near. “You took a long time getting here. Now I’m gonna have to miss school this afternoon, too.”

  “Look, Danny,” she said as they moved to the bank of elevators. “Let’s clarify a few things. Number one, I am not working for you in any capacity. I am here as a favor, got that? Second, nobody told you to skip school. I could have met your mother on my own. And last of all, you are the child and I am the adult. I don’t know what your mother taught you in the way of manners, but you have no right to speak to me in that tone.” Then she stopped, realizing half a dozen people around them were cued to her every word. Fortunately the elevator door opened at that very moment, and the group trooped aboard.

  It was an uncomfortable ride up to the tenth floor. Samantha kept her eyes on the floor-indicator panel, wishing that she’d set Danny straight about helping him when he’d come to her office two days ago. The problem was, her resolve to say no disappeared the instant his dark brown eyes met hers.

  As soon as they stepped out of the elevator and the people behind them had dispersed, Sam said in a low voice, “Listen, I’m sorry if I sounded like—”

  “It’s okay,” he said. “You were right. Kinda.” Those same dark eyes bore into hers. He wheeled around and headed into a room diagonally across from the elevators.

  Sam had the unsettling feeling that the child-adult roles had been reversed, but she ceased caring about it the instant she entered Emily Benson’s room.

  Danny’s mother lay propped against two pillows that dwarfed her. Her hair—stringy and limp—might have been blond once upon a time but now was more the color of a mud puddle on a rainy day. Her head turned slowly toward the door as they walked in. The transparent oxygen line inserted in her nostrils moved at the same time. Sam’s gaze shifted to the large red tank on the far side of the bed.

  The dark-circled eyes, sunk deep in her small face, brightened when she saw Danny. Sam wondered how a simple glance could convey so much emotion. But what she knew, right then and there, was that she would not be leaving that room without making some attempt to help.

  The woman ran her tongue along her lower lip, cleared her throat twice and then spoke in a voice so faint Sam had to move to the chair next to the bed.

  “I’m pleased to meet you. Danny told me you offered to help him find his father.”

  Sam nodded.

  “Are you a private detective?” Emily asked.

  Sam hesitated before replying, “Not exactly, but I am experienced at finding things.” She quickly added, “To tell you the truth, I’m not certain I can be any help at all.”

  A frown settled over the pale face. “All this has taken me by surprise. Danny just told me the whole story yesterday. How he happened to find you on the Internet and your offer to help.” She paused to catch her breath.

  Not quite the whole story, Sam was thinking. She looked at Danny sitting in the chair on the other side of the bed, but he was engrossed in a magazine. Or at least pretending to be.

  “I don’t expect you to have much luck with this,” Emily added.

  Danny’s head shot up.

  “It’s been so many years. I haven’t heard from Daniel since just before I…” She stopped and glanced at Danny. “Hon, could you go get me a can of ginger ale from the nurses’ station? No ice and one of those bendy straws.”

  He looked as if he was about to say something but changed his mind. As he left he shot Sam a glance, as if it was somehow her fault that his mother wanted to speak privately.

  “I’ll try to be quick,” his mother said as soon as
he left the room. “Just that it’s embarrassing…you know…in front of my son. I met Daniel when I was waitressing at a diner up in Greenwood, not far from where Danny and I live now. You ever been to Woodland Park zoo there?”

  Sam shook her head. The north end of Seattle was foreign territory to her.

  “It’s nice. I used to take Danny there when he was little.” She broke off for a moment, her small front teeth biting down on her lower lip. Then she took a deep breath and went on, “The first time Daniel came in for coffee I was kinda put off by him, looking like a biker ’n all. But we got to talking after a while and I found out he was real nice. Different from what I expected. He talked like he was educated. You know? Anyway, one night he was still there when we closed up and he asked me to go for a drink at a bar down the street.” She stopped and turned her gaze upward. “One thing led to another—if you know what I mean. I didn’t even know I was pregnant until after he left.”

  “He left?”

  Emily shifted her head on the pillow. Her eyes looked sad. “He just vanished. Didn’t come in one day and I thought maybe he was sick or something. I waited a few more days before calling the phone number he’d given me. He was living in a rooming house. The man who answered said Daniel had up and gone. Didn’t pay his last week’s rent and he swore at me, thinking I was his girlfriend or something.” She smiled wistfully.

  “What was his last name?”

  “Daniel’s? Oh, he said it was Winston.”

  “Do you think that was a fake name?”

  “After a few days of calling every Winston in the phone book, I figured it musta been. I wish I could help you some more but…”

  “Do you have a photograph of him?”

  “No, sorry.” She broke into a spasm of coughing and tried to reach for the glass of water on the table next to her. Sam jumped up and held the glass for her. The very act of sipping seemed to exhaust her and she fell back against the pillows, panting as if she’d just finished a race.

  “I guess Danny told you I don’t have much time,” she finally whispered. “He’s been staying with Minnie Schwartz, our neighbor. But that’s only till…well…till none of us has to wait anymore.”

  Sam saw tears well up in her eyes and looked away, afraid she’d start to cry herself.

  “This is his idea—looking for his father,” she went on. “I don’t think he’ll find him. But I think he should try. No harm in that, is there? For him to have a little hope for a bit longer?”

  Sam blinked rapidly and shook her head. “No. No harm at all.” She waited a few seconds and then asked, “Is there anything else that you know about him?”

  Emily thought for a minute. “He told me his family came from Seattle. He was an only child, like me. That was one of the things we had in common.” She cast Sam a rueful glance. “There wasn’t much else, ’cept we had a couple laughs together whenever he came into the diner. Like I said, we only went out that one time.” She paused. “He was very attractive. There was something special about him. I could see that right away.” She stopped then, turning her head away.

  “How about his age?”

  “He was five years younger’n me. He used to tease me about being an older woman. At first, that’s why I thought he left. Especially after that night. Maybe he was afraid, you know, of getting trapped into something.” She gave a wobbly smile. “But looking back now, I think there was something goin’ on in his life.”

  “Like what?”

  Emily shook her head. “I dunno. Just that he didn’t like talkin’ about his past or his family, that kinda stuff.”

  “So how old would he be now, then?”

  “He was twenty-four then and Danny just turned twelve so…”

  “Thirty-six or -seven?”

  “Yeah, I guess. I sometimes wonder what might have happened if…”

  Just then he appeared in the doorway and his mother let her sentence trail off. He was holding a can of soda and he hesitated, staring first at his mother, then at Sam.

  It seemed like a good time to leave. “I have to go now,” Sam said, adding quickly at the alarm in Danny’s face, “but I’ll see what I can do to help. I have some contacts and people I can call.” She saw relief wash over Danny’s face. “But I can’t promise anything. There’s not a lot of information to go on.”

  “That’s wonderful, isn’t it, Danny?” Emily smiled at him.

  Danny nodded. His eyes were red and Sam guessed he didn’t trust himself to speak. Samantha watched the silent interchange between mother and son. She stood up. “I’ll call you here at the hospital as soon as I find out anything.”

  As she walked to the door, her single thought was how much she feared breaking that slender thread of hope she knew she’d just cast out to them.

  CHAPTER TWO

  SAM WONDERED how much longer she could sit and stare at the telephone. She’d put off making the call since returning from the hospital yesterday afternoon. And although she’d intended to catch up on some work, she’d been unable to do anything but sit, stare and think.

  As much as Danny’s attitude had annoyed her, she doubted she could have been as gutsy at twelve as he was, facing his mother’s death on his own and being placed in a foster home. Making a few phone calls, as she’d told him, might be all she could do for him. Yet here she was hours later, unable to make one particular call.

  Unnecessary office tasks had filled some of the hours. She’d calculated the time in Washington D.C., convincing herself that Skye would be at lunch. Assuming that she was even in D.C. and not out in the field “nabbing bad guys,” as her twin used to say—back when they were still speaking to each other. When Sam was still engaged to Todd, blissfully unaware of what lay ahead.

  Then she thought of Danny’s pale, brave face and his mother’s eyes. She picked up the receiver and tapped in Skye’s work number, rather than her cell phone. Keep this whole thing business, she told herself.

  The phone rang long enough for Sam to think the voice mail might pick up and she’d have a reprieve of sorts. Just as she was about to disconnect, Skye answered.

  “Agent Sorrenti. How may I help you?”

  Sam cleared her throat. “Uh, hi. It’s Samantha.”

  There was a moment of dead silence. “Sam?”

  “You know another Samantha?”

  “Well, this is a surprise. To say the least.”

  Sam hesitated, then plunged in. “I’m calling for a favor,” she said.

  “Oh?”

  The uplift at the end of the word told Sam her sister was not only doubly surprised but also apprehensive. “I met this boy—he’s twelve—and his mother is dying of cancer. There’s just the two of them, no other family, and he—Danny’s his name—is going to have to go into foster care.” She paused to catch her breath.

  “Uh-huh?”

  Sam quickly went on before Skye could ask what any of this had to do with her. “He wants to find his biological father and he asked me to help him.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “You don’t have to say it like that!” Sam blurted, in spite of her intention to avoid any digression.

  “Like what, Sam? I’m feeling a bit mystified.”

  “I was wondering if you could give me any tips on finding someone.” Sam pictured her sister’s grin. “I told Danny that I probably wouldn’t be able to do much for him, so I’m not expecting miracles. Just maybe a lead on some places I could call.”

  “I thought your business was finding things.”

  Sam closed her eyes, revisiting her first conversation with Danny. “He found me through my Web site and after I met his mother, I couldn’t turn him down. I said I’d see what I could do.”

  “So what do you want me to do?”

  Sam stifled her frustration. “As I said, maybe you could tell me who to call. Any agencies or places that might have records—besides the usual ones, of course.”

  “What’s this guy’s name? The father.”

  “Daniel Winsto
n. But Emily—the mother—doesn’t think it’s his real name.”

  “What else have you got on the guy?”

  “When Emily knew him, he rode a motorcycle, had long hair and a tattoo.”

  “Sounds like the real fatherly type.”

  Although her own immediate reaction had been the same, Sam resisted commenting, wanting to get to the point. “Emily thinks his family comes from the Seattle area.”

  “So if you’re in Seattle and he’s from there…”

  “Look, Skye, if you can’t help, just say so. I’ve already checked the phone directory and as I said, the name could be false.”

  “Frankly, Sam, I don’t know how much I can do.”

  “I already explained to them it might be impossible to locate him.”

  “Don’t suppose you got a DOB?”

  “A what?”

  “Date of birth.”

  “No, but he was twenty-four at the time and that was twelve or thirteen years ago.”

  “Does the guy have a rap sheet? A record?”

  “I’ve no idea. Emily never mentioned it.”

  “It’d make the job a bit easier anyway. So look, why don’t you see if this Emily thinks of something else and we’ll talk again in a couple of days?”

  “Sure. Great. Thanks, Skye.” The silence that fell between them was long and uncomfortable. How sad that I can’t think of anything else to say to my twin sister.

  “So how’s Mom doing?” Skye eventually asked.

  “Fine. Same as always. Her sixtieth is coming up next month. Remember? She’d love to hear from you.”

  “I’ve been busy,” Skye snapped. “Just got back in town a few days ago after six weeks undercover.”

  Sam pursed her lips. As always, the implied reprimand struck home. Finding rare art objects paled next to the dangers of her twin’s job. The weight of the many months of silence between them ground the conversation to a halt. There was nothing to do but get off the phone.

  “Well, I appreciate whatever you can do, Skye,” Sam said.

  “I’ll touch base with you soon.”