A Father for Danny

by Janice Carter

  “Daniel Winston.”

  “Right. Why did you use an alias? Did it have something to do with the case?”

  “In a roundabout way. Frankly, I don’t want to discuss that at the moment. I just want to find out what your sister intends to do.”

  And that was the crux of the problem, Sam thought. “I don’t know. Skye is one of those people who—you know the saying—marches to the beat of her own drum. She and I haven’t been as close as we were when we were kids. And until she arrived a couple of days ago, I hadn’t seen her since Christmas.”

  “Really? Why is that?”

  “I don’t want to get into that right now.”

  “So we both have our secrets.” His dark brown eyes revealed no hint of irony.

  “I guess we do,” she said. “But the important thing in all this is Danny. He needs to know that he’ll have a father to look after him when Emily…”

  “Precisely,” he said. “Which is why I’m asking you to find out exactly what your sister is planning and to do whatever you can to prevent her from pursuing the case.”

  His face was dead sober. Sam had the feeling that the request was more of an order. Then Danny’s shout broke the spell. They both turned toward the cottage. He was standing just outside the cottage back door. “I’m finished,” he announced.

  Chase waved, signaling they were coming. He stood up and offered a hand to Sam, helping her to her feet. His grasp was strong and his fingers callused from his trade. He continued to hold on to her hand.

  “Danny wants us to go to the center of town with him. Perhaps we can get back to our conversation later?” He applied more pressure and Sam knew for sure that his request was an order.

  She wrenched her hand free. “Of course,” she said.

  Danny gave her a questioning look as she came up to him. Wanting to know if whatever had happened between her and Chase was now resolved? she wondered. Sam tousled his hair and said, “Let’s go do some sightseeing.”

  “You two go ahead. I should probably open up the shop again,” Chase said as he caught up to them.

  “Are you sure?” Danny asked.

  “Of course.” Chase looked from him to Sam. “Don’t forget to pop in and say goodbye before you head back to the city.”

  She almost saluted, but settled for a quick “sure” as she looped her arm through Danny’s and headed up to the street.

  They walked silently for a bit until Danny said, “I’m glad you came back, Sam.” He paused, then added hesitantly, “Did he say something to upset you?”

  “It was a misunderstanding,” she said, “and it had nothing to do with you.”

  “But I thought you hardly knew him.”

  “Well, that’s true. Oh, look, isn’t that cute?” She pointed at a window display of a miniature fishing village.

  Danny either saw through her diversionary tactic or wasn’t interested, because he scarcely glanced at the window. “I guess you must know more about him than I do, because you searched for him.”

  She knew right away what he was hinting at. “Danny, the best person to ask about Chase is your mom. And of course, the man himself.”

  “He’s pretty quiet,” Danny said. “He asks me stuff about myself and my mom, too, but he never talks about himself. Just about his business mostly.”

  “Where did he learn to carve and make furniture?”

  “He said he traveled around a lot after he and my mom broke up. He lived in Alaska for a long time and worked for a carpenter there. That’s when he learned how to make furniture.”

  Like Emily, Chase had apparently given Danny a version of the relationship that made him feel part of something real, not just the byproduct of a one-night stand. It was obvious the man was both insightful and sensitive—which certainly was a major contrast with the way he grilled her about Skye. Definitely a man of contradictions.

  “He must have told you something about his own family,” she said.

  “Only that his father is dead and his mother is in a nursing home.”

  “I see.” But she didn’t really. Why the mystery? Sure, his family business had been investigated for fraud, but hadn’t Skye said Chase wasn’t even questioned? That there hadn’t been enough evidence to take the inquiry further? What could the man possibly be hiding?

  “Sam?”

  “Hmm?” She looked down at Danny’s frowning face.

  “I asked if you’d like an ice cream from the best place in all of Seattle.”

  “Oh. Sorry, Danny. Yes, I’d love to. How sweet of you.”

  He gave a sheepish grin. “It was actually Chase’s idea. He gave me the money.”

  “In that case, I think a double is in order. Lead on.”

  They ate their waffle cones while walking back to Primrose Lane. Just as they reached the front of Chase’s shop, a woman from the adjacent store was saying goodbye to someone in a car at the curb.

  Sam recognized her immediately from her last visit to the island.

  The woman turned to them as the car pulled away. “Hello, there,” she said. “You must be Chase’s son,” she said to Danny and, smiling at Sam, said, “We haven’t officially met, but I’ve seen you a couple of times.”

  “Oh, right. I’m Samantha Sorrenti and this is Danny.”

  “I’m Marjorie Lawrence. Chase told me he had a son coming for the weekend. Such a private guy, isn’t he? I mean, we’ve been neighbors for almost two years and I just found out he had a son the other day!”

  Sam smiled, but said nothing, recalling Chase’s referral to the woman as the “neighborhood watch.”

  “How do you like Bainbridge so far?” Marjorie asked Danny.

  “It’s cool. Different.”

  “Not as much to do here as in the city, I suppose.”

  He shrugged. “The city can get boring, too,” he said.

  “True enough,” she said, laughing. Then turning to Sam, she said, “I know you like it because you keep coming back. That’s a good sign. I waved at you when you were here the other day, but I guess you didn’t see me.”

  Skye. Rather than get into a tiresome explanation—and she’d had enough of Skye for the day—Sam said, “No, I didn’t. Sorry about that.” She looked at Danny. “We’d better let your father know we’re back,” she said, ushering him up the sidewalk.

  Chase was in the back of the shop working and got up to greet them.

  “Thanks for the treat,” Sam said, holding up the remains of her cone.

  “Glad you enjoyed it,” he said.

  Rather than have to go through another question-answer period about her sister, Sam said, “I should get going. I have some work to do in the city. Thanks for inviting me. Lunch was great.”

  They walked her out to her car and while Danny’s attention was caught by a passing group of teens, Chase quickly spoke in Sam’s ear. “Don’t forget to talk to your sister.”

  Sam pulled her head back to look him in the eye. “As soon as I can.”

  He nodded. “And, uh…I’m sorry if I seemed a bit intense earlier. It’s…” He paused, as if at a loss for words.

  “A long story?”

  He gave a half smile. “Yeah. Someday I hope to fill you in on the rest of it.”

  The admission took her by surprise. She smiled back. “Good. I’d like that.”

  It was a strange end to a strange day, she thought as the ferry headed back to the mainland. She couldn’t say for certain that she knew Chase Sullivan any better, but she’d definitely learned more. As soon as the ferry docked she headed straight for her mother’s place to see Skye.

  Fortunately Nina wasn’t home. Sam knew how much Nina disliked bickering, especially between her daughters. When they were teenagers, she’d often remind them that friends would come and go in their lives—as would lovers, but a sister would always be there. Sam wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

  She got to the point as soon as she found Skye in the kitchen making a pot of coffee.

  “I’ve just com
e back from Bainbridge Island.”

  Skye looked up from the coffee machine. “Oh?”

  She sounded nonchalant, but Sam noted the quick flash of guilt. “You might have told me you saw Chase, instead of setting me up like that.”

  Skye set the coffeepot on its stand and pushed the start button. When she turned around, her eyes were blazing. “Why is it always about you, Sam? This has nothing to do with you, okay? There was no setup, no entrapment. I went to see him in a line of inquiry—”

  “That you established, Skye. You have no official backing for any of this. It’s your own personal obsession.”

  “Obsession? What kind of psychobabble are you spouting now?”

  “You didn’t find anything thirteen years ago, yet you still can’t let it go.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I came home to see Mom and hopefully patch things up with you—though I’m beginning to realize that’s an impossibility—and I decided to spend some of my free time reexamining an old file. Where does obsession fit into that scenario?”

  Sam counted to ten. Skye had always been an amazing spin doctor, and her rationale would have convinced anyone who didn’t know her as well as Sam did.

  “Skye,” she said, purposely lowering her voice, “you know very well that Chase Sullivan would never have entered your FBI radar if I hadn’t asked for some assistance.”

  “What are you suggesting, Sam? That I’m doing this out of some desire to get back at you? A personal vendetta or something? Do you realize how that sounds?”

  They were on the brink, but Sam refused to back off. She couldn’t now. “I know how it sounds and how it looks, Skye. We’ve been through this many times since we were teenagers.”

  Skye turned away to get a coffee mug from the cupboard. “Yeah, yeah. The old competition thing. I was the bad twin and you were the good one.”

  “You were the only person who thought that, Skye. No one else did. Not ever.”

  Skye remained silent, just poured the coffee and gestured to the pot.

  Sam shook her head but didn’t take her eyes off her sister. They were going to finish this years-old argument at last.

  Skye took a long sip, staring thoughtfully at Sam the whole time. “I am competitive,” she finally said. “It’s true. But I’m like that with everyone and everywhere. Not only with you.”

  “Okay, but there are times when you’re supposed to back off.”

  Skye set her coffee mug down on the center island counter. “I know that, too. But…I can’t explain it. I just can’t seem to back off. My life’s a constant race. Every situation I’m in, it’s as if there’s a guy waving a checkered flag in front of me.”

  “Come on, Skye. That sounds like the ‘just can’t help myself’ syndrome.”

  Her sister’s eyes flashed. “And you sound like Mom.”

  “That’s a low blow. Beneath even you.”

  Skye grinned. “We did promise never to quote Mom to each other, didn’t we?”

  Sam felt a rush of warmth for her sister, remembering suddenly the times when they giggled late at night in their bunk beds. Way back when. Then she remembered other promises they’d made. One in particular—thou shalt not steal your sister’s boyfriend—that Skye had blatantly broken. The surge of affection was instantly replaced by despair. Were they ever going to get on track again as sisters?

  “So where do we go from here?” Sam asked.

  “Regarding?”

  Us, Sam wanted to say. But there were other priorities. A twelve-year-old boy who’d just found his father. It would be too cruel if Danny were to lose Chase, as well as his mother.

  “Chase. His family’s business. That whole thing.”

  “Oh.” Skye moved away, flicking off the coffee machine and putting her empty mug in the sink. “Right. Back to that.”

  Sam heard the disappointment in her voice. Had she misread her sister? “There’s a time limit here, Skye. Danny’s mother. She needs to know he’ll be okay. That his father will be around for him. That he won’t have to go into a foster home.”

  “Sounds like a Dickens’ novel,” muttered Skye.

  “Don’t trivialize this.”

  Skye raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. What’s your point?”

  “I’m asking you to drop it. To forget about reexamining the case.”

  Skye kept her eyes on Sam as if waiting for her to change her mind or to back off. Then she abruptly spun around and left the room.

  Sam headed for the sink to splash water on her face. What was her next step if Skye refused?

  Seconds later Skye was back, holding a large brown envelope in her hand. She tossed it onto the counter by the sink.

  “Here,” she said, her voice sharp and decisive. “I’ll let you decide what to do. Read this and get back to me.”

  Sam picked up the envelope and pulled out the papers inside. The cover page was stamped with the FBI logo and file number. Beneath was a date from thirteen years ago. Sam looked up, but her sister had already left the room.

  SAM POURED HERSELF a second cup of coffee and sat in her favourite chair, staring at the thin sheaf of papers on the table next to her. She hadn’t had the nerve to read the photocopied file at her mother’s place, not wanting Skye looking over her shoulder. So she’d waited till today—Sunday—just to prove to herself that she, unlike her sister, was not obsessive and the file was no big deal.

  And after reading it, she thought perhaps it really wasn’t a big deal. The gist was that the FBI’s Seattle field office had received two anonymous phone calls from two different public phone booths. A male voice had suggested the office might want to investigate a local import-export company called Trade Winds, which had received several government contracts. The caller said the company was defrauding the government.

  A memo recommended that, in light of other recent cases of government fraud, the calls should be followed up on. A case number was assigned and the file handed over to the new recruit, Skye Sorrenti. The remaining reports on file belonged to her.

  Sam was fascinated by the terse, bureaucratic jargon that her sister had used. At the time, she’d only been in the Seattle office less than a year, and Sam knew Skye didn’t talk like that in her personal life. But somewhere in the past thirteen years her professional and personal styles merged, so that her speech and mannerisms at work and at home were the same now. The realization saddened Sam. Had Skye’s job changed her that much, or had the potential for such a change always been there in Skye? Perhaps it didn’t matter how the change occurred. The real issue was, could the old Skye—the one she remembered from their early adolescence—be resurrected?

  A few employees had been interviewed, along with the two men who owned and ran the company—Winston and Bryant Sullivan. Sam was intrigued by the notation that Bryant and his two sons actually ran the business. Though only in his midsixties, Winston was considered semiretired due to a heart condition.

  A sample of contracts, along with invoices and receipts, were also reviewed. People who’d signed some of the receipts were interviewed, but one person whose name appeared on a few papers had been unavailable. Chase Sullivan, only child of Winston. Sam picked up the file and shuffled through the loose papers until she found a handwritten note by Skye to contact Chase Sullivan on his return. It was dated two weeks before Skye was transferred out of Seattle. The last memo on file was a recommendation to take no further action in the inquiry.

  It didn’t take an FBI agent to see that there wasn’t much of a case. Sam knew her sister had been right to close it. So why all the fuss now? she wondered. And why was Chase so insistent that Skye drop it?

  Sam had no answers to either question. What she did know was that she needed a break from it all.

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHASE HUNG UP the phone. What rotten luck. A big order, one for a cabinet, and he’d had to turn it down. Mainly because of the timeline. Or so he’d began to tell himself as the customer described what she wanted. After he made his e
xcuses and rang off, he realized that time was indeed the factor. Only it was Emily and Danny’s time he’d been thinking about. The kind of cabinet the woman wanted would take at least three months. How could he devote himself to an intricate piece when Emily didn’t have three months? Not according to her doctor, whom he’d spoken with after introducing himself as Danny’s father.

  That was why he’d invited Danny for the weekend right away, rather than allow for a slow and steady period of adjustment. They didn’t have time for that, which was also why he’d panicked after Sam’s sister dropped in on him. If the whole thing had come up six months or more from now, he might have been able to deal with it. But when he’d promised Emily he’d take care of Danny—no matter what—he’d no inkling that all of his past was going to come back with a vengeance.

  He hadn’t heard a word from Sam since she’d left on Saturday. Okay, he told himself, it’s only been three days. She needed time to talk things out with her sister, and having met the sister, he figured that would be a challenge. She didn’t seem the type to capitulate easily. They might be identical physically in almost every way—except that Sam had green flecks in her gray eyes and her sister didn’t—but in personality they were different. He scarcely knew Sam, but could clearly see that difference. Chalk and cheese. Angles and circles. Maybe it was Skye’s career that had created that edginess, or maybe she was simply made that way.

  All he knew was that unless Sam could persuade her sister to drop whatever she was doing, his whole life could change. Again. And not just his, but Danny’s. He hoped that Sam had some luck. A lot depended on that. More than anyone knew.

  He’d realized almost at once that Sam hadn’t known about Skye’s visit, but something had driven him to keep at her, to find out exactly what was going on and how much she was involved. It was partly because he didn’t want to believe that Sam was in on it with Skye; but if she was working with her sister, he didn’t want Danny affected by it. Chase could see how much Danny liked her, and he didn’t want the boy to get hurt.

  The weekend had turned out better than expected, considering his stress after Skye’s visit. He and Danny had apparently made the same vow: keep things as neutral and friendly as possible. Danny had phoned Emily a few times, filling her in on what they were doing. He’d heard the excitement in Danny’s voice as he told his mother about their paddle along the channel and how Chase was going to teach him the J-stroke. It had seemed like a small thing to Chase, but he’d forgotten that Danny was a city kid who’d had little exposure to nature.