Saving Madeline

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  “Okay.” Amy lumbered past Wyman.

  “Come in,” Caitlin invited. “It’ll just be a moment.”

  Amy had already found a vase, though they were on the top shelf. There was one advantage to her being so tall. “Is this one good?”

  Caitlin shook her head. “It’s very pretty, but I don’t think it’ll hold all those flowers. Is there a bigger one?”

  Amy reached for it. “I got it.” She did a little dance. “I can’t wait to show Gloria. And can I show them to Sarah? Will they still be alive when I go there again?”

  “I’m sure they’ll still be good by Monday.”

  Amy breezed into the living room and out the front door. By the time Caitlin and Wyman were off the front porch she was already at Gloria’s. The tall, dark-haired woman waved to them before taking Amy inside and shutting the door.

  “Thanks for that,” Caitlin said as they walked to Wyman’s gray car—a Lexus, she noted.

  He shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d mind sharing your flowers.”

  She stifled a retort that she hadn’t expected flowers at all.

  “Truthfully, I’ve never seen a woman so excited about flowers before,” he said as he opened her door.

  “Well, Amy’s not exactly a woman.”

  “I know.”

  She studied him as she walked around the car. He was different this evening, though she couldn’t tell exactly why. He wore a blue plaid sport jacket and solid blue pants that were more attractive than his typical dark work suit, but his hair was still thinning and his handsome face a bit on the fleshy side. So what exactly was different about him?

  He’d been nice to Amy. That had to be it. Despite the revulsion she’d clearly seen on his face earlier in the week, he’d been kind to her. Why? Was it a trick, a ploy to make her relax? She couldn’t afford to relax. Wyman was her enemy both in and out of court, and she couldn’t let her guard down even for a moment.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  She arched a brow. “A surprise?”

  “Hopefully.” He smiled, ignoring the coolness of her tone.

  Opera was playing in the car, and though Caitlin had developed a taste for the music since passing the bar, she didn’t want to enjoy herself. She held her body stiff and her lips together as she stared out the window in silence. She didn’t want to be here with him, and there was no use pretending.

  He drove to the Avenues in Salt Lake City, pulling up in the last open parking place before a squat, two-story stucco building that looked as if it might contain three or four offices. She couldn’t tell if the stucco was tan or gray, it was so nondescript.

  “There’s a restaurant here?” she asked.

  He pointed to a sign over one of the double doors. “Cafe Shambala. It’s Tibetan food. I hope you like it.”

  She’d tasted some once and hadn’t hated it, so she shrugged. “Yeah. It’s fine.” I’m really only here to find out what you want.

  Inside, large colorful posters and flags lined the walls, and there were several prominent pictures of an older man with dark hair. “The Dalai Lama,” Wyman explained. Besides the posters, the decorations were sparse. The clientele seemed varied, though most were relatively young. “Don’t let the place fool you,” Wyman told her. “They serve really good food.”

  There seemed to be only one server, but he came to their table before Caitlin had time to completely remove her leather jacket.

  “The chicken curry is excellent,” Wyman suggested as the server hovered over them with a pad and pencil. “Or the chicken and broccoli, if you like broccoli.”

  “Okay, I’ll have the chicken and broccoli.”

  “I’ll have the curry,” Wyman said. “And we’d like this mo-mo appetizer.” He lifted his eyes to Caitlin. “They don’t have a liquor license here, but they have a sort of yogurt shake called a lassi that’s nice.”

  Caitlin had tried lassi at another restaurant and hadn’t been impressed, but she agreed anyway to get the evening over with as soon as possible. “I’ll have that, then. And some water, please.” The server hurried away with their order.

  The kitchen was open to the restaurant, and they could see workers preparing the meals. Caitlin wondered if it gave customers comfort when they chose some of the stranger meals. “This is really cozy,” she said, settling back in her chair. “Nice.” Relaxing was actually a better word since the earlier tension in her body was gone.

  “You sound surprised.”

  She shrugged. She was surprised, but she wasn’t going to admit it. She’d expected a bigger show, something along the lines of Mace’s restaurant choice, but not this little place, with its sparse decorations and intimate atmosphere. If the food tasted as good as it smelled, she would at least derive some enjoyment from this forced expedition.

  “Something funny?” Wyman asked.

  She shook her head. “Not really. I’m just wondering why you asked me here.”

  “Ah. Business first. I get it.” His eyes narrowed. “Okay, I want to know if you’re involved with how we found the evidence against your client.”

  Caitlin considered him a moment. There had been a slight hesitation before he’d spoken. She wouldn’t be as good an attorney as she was if she hadn’t recognized it. “Are you sure that’s it? A few days ago you said something about working together.” She fixed an unwavering stare on him.

  He dropped his gaze first, and she had the distinct feeling he was hiding something. “You applied for my job two years ago,” he said. “There may be another opening soon. You could come and work for the good guys for a change.”

  He couldn’t possibly know how wonderful that sounded. “Strange,” she said, her voice flat, “I thought you were trying to blackmail me into giving you privileged client-attorney information.” Keeping the emotion from her words was the way to unnerve creeps. It worked every day with the hardened criminals she worked with, as well as the young attorneys, who seemed to spend at least half their time trying to find dates.

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Maybe to gain evidence against you.” Going on the attack was not a new ploy but one he apparently recognized.

  He smiled. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “Neither have I.” Her voice trembled ever so slightly, making her furious with herself.

  His gaze shifted to the kitchen and then back to her. There were still a few empty tables in the restaurant, and they were relatively isolated, but more customers were coming in. They would soon risk being overheard. “Look, let’s drop this for now and enjoy dinner. For what it’s worth, I’m betting you’re not involved in anything that could get you disbarred.”

  “I didn’t get that impression a few days ago,” she retorted icily.

  He was silent for several seconds. “Look, you need to be careful of Mace.”

  “Mace?” This surprised her. “What does he have to do with this?” Had Wyman somehow heard of her almost date with him yesterday? She’d have to be more careful.

  “I know everyone thinks Mace Keeley is God’s gift to the DA’s office. But I work with the guy, and I think a little caution in is order.”

  “He seems nice enough.” Not to mention gorgeous, hot, and the focus of more than a few of her dreams, though Wyman didn’t need to hear that from her.

  “He is. Right up until he stabs you in the back.”

  “His record for winning cases is unparalleled.”

  “Whereas mine is at the bottom?” Wyman smirked. “Interesting. Makes you wonder how the cases are assigned.”

  Caitlin pondered his words. This vein of conversation was completely unexpected. She’d thought Wyman might present some evidence of her breach of ethics, not act like a jealous suitor. Could it be possible that Wyman was attracted to her on more than a casual what-will-you-do-so-I’ll-keep-quiet level? The thought stunned her into complete and utter silence.

  “Ah, here comes our food.” Wyman’s sarcasm
was gone. “You’re in for a treat.”

  They ended up sharing the meals, dishing from the serving plates to other plates the server had brought them. Caitlin, who had never really enjoyed curry because it was too hot, loved the curry chicken so much that she forgot herself and ate seconds.

  They talked about the courthouse and people they knew, keeping the conversation away from current cases or anything serious. When they finally finished dinner, Caitlin was surprised to see that two hours had slipped away.

  Wyman saw her looking at her watch. “It’s about time, huh? You need to get back to Amy?”

  “Yes.” Caitlin grabbed at the excuse, not because she wasn’t enjoying herself but because she was. She still hadn’t decided if Wyman was out to get her disbarred or into a romance. Either way, he wasn’t a good candidate for Amy’s husband and baby scenario, and Caitlin had worked too hard to let a mediocre attorney get in the way of her career.

  They talked only occasionally on the way home, but the drive was comfortable. Wyman walked her to the door when they arrived at her house. The automatic light went on, and she bent to open the door with her key.

  Wyman didn’t take the hint. “I had a cousin like Amy,” he said, his breath turning white as it hit the cold air. “When we were young, I didn’t really notice any difference, but around nine or ten I started hating it. My mom and my aunt always wanted me to take him with me when I hung out with the guys. I thought it was embarrassing, so we used to play a lot of jokes on him.” He shook his head, not looking at her now. “I feel guilty every time I think of it. He never, ever caught on. He practically worshiped me.”

  “Did something happen to him?” Caitlin was visualizing a prank that went too far, something that might have scarred a younger Wyman.

  He shook his head. “He’s still alive, living with my aunt. I never see him. It’s just . . . when I met your sister the other day . . . well, let’s just say it wasn’t what I expected. I had an entirely different concept of you. At work you’re so . . . well, intent. You don’t hold back any punches or seem to have any love for your clients. You’re tough.”

  She knew what he wasn’t saying. He’d thought she was the kind of woman who might not care about ethics. “You asked me out because of my sister?” That was a first. Usually guys headed toward the hills when they sensed that kind of

  responsibility. His right shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “I don’t know how I feel about that,” she said.

  His face came closer, and she could tell he was going to kiss her. A part of her ached to be kissed, to be touched, but this was too much, too soon. She didn’t understand anything about this man and wasn’t sure if she even liked him. She stepped back, her hand reaching for the doorknob. “Last I heard, you had a wife. Unless you’re divorced now.”

  He nodded, his expression contrite. “We’re separated, but you’re right. I’m sorry. It doesn’t look good, but I really don’t know where that’s going yet. Until I know for sure—”

  She took pity on him. “Wyman, I had a good time tonight. I really did. Well, all but that first bit at the restaurant.” She smiled. “But I only went tonight because of our business relationship. You and I . . .” She shook her head. “It’s not going anywhere.”

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I meant what I said earlier about Mace. I know you think he’s a paragon, but consider this. Have you ever wondered why you and I try so many cases together?”

  Caitlin shook her head, not understanding his implication.

  “Think about it. Look at Mace’s cases.”

  When she didn’t reply, he lifted his right shoulder, turned, and sprinted to his Lexus.

  Caitlin watched him go, finding it difficult to reorder her previous impressions of Wyman. Was he what he appeared to be, or was he playing some game she didn’t yet understand?

  Chapter 7

  Grandma!” Madeline shot from the doorway of the rental house and into Norma’s arms. The two put their heads together and began chattering as though it was any normal Sunday at Norma’s house in Mt. Pleasant.

  Parker set down the boxes of clothes from his apartment and smiled. Madeline’s joy was worth all the subterfuge of getting his mother here. He’d packed early this morning and had driven to her house, his faithful police escort following behind. Carrying his boxes, they had gone through Norma’s back fence and over a few streets to the house of a family friend, who had loaned them a car. Then Parker had driven straight here.

  He’d thought about blindfolding his mother so the secret would be safer, but he might need her to check on Madeline if their departure from the state was delayed. Besides, she wouldn’t tell. She knew as well as he did the danger Madeline would be in if she was returned to her mother.

  “I weel be going then,” Carla said from the doorway of the kitchen. “Unteel tonight when you need me.”

  “Thanks, Carla. I appreciate your help.” He’d given her Monday and Tuesday off in exchange for coming in this morning for two hours and for another two later that evening when he took his mother home and jogged back from his apartment. She had been only too happy to agree. He felt a momentary pang of guilt that when she returned on Wednesday, he and Madeline wouldn’t be there. Well, he’d leave her as much severance as he could pay.

  Carla looked at him. “Eef Madeleen asleep tonight when you leave, you need me still to stay?”

  “Yes, I’ll still need you.” He was surprised at the question. Had Carla been raised in a home where it was okay to leave small children if they were sleeping? Or maybe she didn’t understand the distance and time involved. He couldn’t possibly explain his need for jogging back to the house. “She’s too young to ever be alone.”

  “Okay.” She smiled, nodded at him, and went out the back door.

  Parker returned his attention to Madeline and his mother.

  “I love your new hair,” Norma was saying.

  “It’s like yours, Grandma.” Madeline twirled around to show off her dark locks.

  “Look what Grandma brought you.” Norma took out bubblegum and two packs of cards from her purse. “Old Maid and Go Fish. Your favorites!”

  “Goody!”

  Parker felt grateful. Madeline could play these games forever, and that meant that he might just be able to take a little nap. With all the lack of sleep, the worry, and additional

  exercise, he was feeling decidedly exhausted. But Madeline was safe, and that was the most important thing.

  He sat on the couch and was dozing before he knew it, dreaming of Dakota when they first met at a bar. She was young and pretty and flirty and had her sights on him. He’d drunk heavily in those days, and she was just as eager to drink. They’d gone through the next days in a whirl of partying and semi-consciousness. She’d wanted to get married, so they did after only two months, living hand to mouth, working only when absolutely necessary. Parker had thought he was happy, but more often than not tears had wet his pillow at night. He’d been lost. Adrift in a sea. Missing his family. Seeing no sense to the world or a reason for his existence. Until Madeline.

  And then the terrible call that changed everything.

  Parker jerked awake, sweating. Madeline and his mother were nowhere to be seen. His heart constricted with fear that left him tingling to his fingertips. Had the police found them and taken Madeline away? Why hadn’t they taken him? He shook the thoughts away. Be sensible.

  He found Madeline in the kitchen making cookies with ingredients Norma had brought from home. Parker watched his mother and daughter from the doorway, enjoying Madeline’s enthusiasm. They interacted in a way that went beyond the casual, a way far beyond how Madeline interacted with her mother.

  Norma came over to stand beside him as Madeline was pouring the chocolate chips, a few at a time, into the batter, stopping to eat a few or to make the chocolate pieces talk to one another. “I’ve liquidated one of my investments,” she said calmly but in a painful way, as though she was barely holding everything together. “Here’s
my bank card if you need it. There’s about ten thousand so far.” She held up a hand when he looked as though he might protest. “No. I know you have a bit saved, and since I’m on your account, I’ll take that when I join you. But it’d be better if you didn’t take it all out now. If they’re watching you, they’ve probably got a finger on your bank accounts.”

  Could they really do that? Parker decided they probably could but only if they had a warrant, and what proof would they have for one of those? Maybe it didn’t matter in a kidnapping case. He took the card.

  “I’ll call you on this cell phone when we’re settled,” he said, handing her a new cell phone he’d bought for her yesterday on his lunch hour. As he’d done with his new phone, he’d made sure to use a false name and pay cash. It’d only work for a month, but that should be long enough. He’d also quit his job on Saturday night, saying he was heading up north to search for his daughter.

  Her gaze rested on Madeline. “So we’re really going to do this.”

  “Mom, you don’t have to.” Parker hated the idea of her selling her house and moving away from a lifetime of friends. It wasn’t fair for her to have to start over and live on the run.

  “Yes I do. You and Madeline are all the family I have, and you should know how important family is to me. Make no mistake; as soon as I’ve wrapped up everything here, I’m going to wherever you are.” She glanced at the phone. “I’ll be waiting for your call.”

  Parker’s emotion bubbled up inside him, threatening to spill over. “I’m sorry I haven’t been the son you deserve. I’d do anything to be him.”

  They both knew who he was talking about. Him. Vincent, the perfect older son, the one who’d been obedient to their demanding father, the one who’d studied diligently and worked for the future he would never have. Even in death, Parker felt envious of Vincent and his choices. He wished they’d been his.

  “I don’t want you to be Vincent,” Norma said softly. Her face was solemn and her brown eyes unwavering. “I never have.” She put an arm around his waist and leaned into him. “And neither did your father. He didn’t understand how to let you be yourself, that you needed to find your own way. And you did.”