Saving Madeline

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  “Daddy?” Madeline tugged on his hand. He always made sure to hold her tightly as the traffic in this part of the city was thick in the evenings. Around them people walked briskly to their destinations, faces hidden and bodies rounded by layers to stave off the cold.

  “What, sweetheart?”

  “Can we have macaroni and cheese tonight?”

  That would be a test of his limited cooking skills, given that he hadn’t yet bought any boxes of mac and cheese. “We can try. We have macaroni, and we can grate some cheese. It might not taste the same.”

  “That’s okay. I love cheese.”

  “I know you do.” They had reached the truck, and he opened the door, swooping her into the air with a flair that made her giggle. Emotion caught in his throat at how incredibly precious she was. No matter that leaving had split him in two, he had to be careful never to forget or play down the fact that Madeline had been in danger every moment she’d stayed with Dakota.

  Ten minutes later, as they rode up in the elevator in their apartment building, an idea occurred to him. An idea so intriguing that Caitlin might not be able to pass it up. At least not if she still held any feelings for him in her heart. And if he could just be with her, he knew he could convince her.

  “Can I open the door with the key?”

  “Sure, sweetheart.”

  If he was really careful, it might work. Madeline finally managed to open the door, and he went inside the furnished apartment to the drawer in the kitchen where they kept the phone book.

  “Daddy, what about the macaroni?”

  “This will only take a minute. Why don’t you get out the cheese?”

  The trick would be making sure nothing was traceable, not even to the credit cards obtained with his new identity. But maybe, just maybe, he had enough luck, or karma, or whatever they were calling it these days, to make his idea work. The rest would be up to Caitlin.

  • • •

  On Friday afternoon, Caitlin looked up to see Wyman Russell standing in her office doorway. She snapped shut her briefcase for what would be the last time in at least a few weeks and started toward him.

  “So, you’re really doing it.”

  “People do take vacations.” Though it was really a forced leave of absence, she was trying to stay positive.

  “Not people who are going to work with me.” He stood aside to let her pass. “Seriously, I came to tell you I’m officially not a deputy DA anymore, and that I put in a good word for you with your boss about what happened with Mace.”

  “I knew you would.” Caitlin reached out to touch his arm.

  He put his hand over hers and for a moment they stood there in the doorway, not moving or speaking. Finally, Caitlin said, “Wyman, I really appreciate everything you’ve done. I just don’t know what my plans are yet.”

  “I know that. But I also know you’ve been avoiding me.”

  “Your divorce isn’t final.”

  “Yes, it is. That’s what I came to tell you.”

  “Oh,” she said. He was nice and she enjoyed his company, and she had every intention of going out with him again. Still, there was nothing driving her to him, no heat that made her desperate to have him near.

  Truth was, she wanted what she had felt with Parker. I am such a fool.

  “Who is he?” Wyman asked. “It’s not Mace, is it?”

  She snorted in an unladylike manner. “Not on your life. Really, Wyman, it’s not anyone, or at least not anyone I can do anything about. I just need time to sort my life out. It’s been a difficult few weeks.”

  They walked to the parking lot in a comfortable silence. The truth was she was thinking more and more about working with Wyman, and maybe eventually, when the memories of Parker had faded, there could be something more between them. She wanted a family, and Amy hadn’t let up on the baby idea.

  The hurt of that night with Parker did at times seem to be lessening. She’d begun telling herself the separation made everything seem bigger than it had been—especially the attraction between them. How could such power be real? But several times a day something would remind her of him and the feelings would rush back, taking her breath away with their forcefulness, every bit as painful as that morning when she’d awakened at her house and discovered he’d really gone.

  Wyman opened her car door. He bent and kissed her, not on the cheek as he’d been doing these past weeks, but on the lips. He tasted warm and slightly of mint. Pleasant, comforting. Why couldn’t she feel more? Not only did he seem to have a genuine affection for Amy but he would be an attentive boyfriend. For an instant, Caitlin had a wild urge to grab him and kiss him silly to get Parker out of her mind.

  Ridiculous.

  Gently, she pulled away. “I have to go. I told Amy I’d be early.”

  “I’ll call you, then.”

  “Sounds good.” She waved as she left the parking lot. He was still standing where she’d left him.

  Snow lined the streets and there was ice on the road. Now that November was almost ended, and Thanksgiving decorations packed away, Christmas lights were beginning to appear. Amy would insist on putting up lights this year. Maybe Wyman would help. There was a comfort in not doing it alone.

  Except why couldn’t she seem to swallow that stupid lump in her throat?

  She picked up Amy and had scarcely arrived home when a messenger appeared at the door. He was a red-haired, scrawny kid with the gangly awkwardness of the teen years he hadn’t yet left behind. “Caitlin McLoughlin?” he asked, extending an envelope.

  “That’s me.” For a frightening moment, she thought he carried a subpoena that would force her to testify about what she had done in the Belstead case. With clumsy hands she opened the envelope, but inside she saw only the edge of what looked like an airline ticket. Relief flooded her. Of course this child wasn’t delivering a subpoena; he looked about the age to be delivering pizzas. Besides, her boss was taking control of the situation.

  “What’s this?” she asked. “An airline ticket? I don’t understand.”

  He shrugged. “I’m just a courier, ma’am. I pick up and take what they tell me to. There should be a note or something. I’m sorry about it being so late. We tried to deliver it two nights ago, but no one was home, and yesterday the courier who was supposed to bring it came down with the flu. Now if you’ll just sign here.”

  Caitlin signed, all the while her hands burning to investigate the full contents of the envelope. She turned from the boy as he ran out over the snowy yard, shutting the door with her hip. Slowly, she pulled out the ticket.

  Chicago. For tomorrow morning.

  Chicago?

  There was no note, just the ticket. Who would have sent such a thing? She hadn’t shared her dream of returning to Chicago with anyone. Except Parker.

  A sudden dizziness made her reach out to the wall to steady herself. Her breath was caught in her throat. It had to be him. But why? What had he to gain? He couldn’t expect that she would jump onto a plane at his whim. Yet even as she thought this, hope flared bright and strong, surprising her with its strength. She’d thought she was beyond that. Especially now.

  Just as quickly another realization fell like a dead weight on her chest, crushing the hope from her. He’d sent her a ticket. A single ticket. What did he think—that she’d leave her career, her home, drop all her life to go on the run with him and Madeline? And what about Amy? Maybe her home and job could be replaced, but he had to know she would never desert Amy.

  Of course he knew, so this obviously wasn’t an invitation to enter his life. That it was a dated ticket hinted he would be waiting at the other end, but what would that mean anyway? She wanted a relationship, not a weekend fling.

  More likely, and even more hurtful, was that he wouldn’t even be there, and the ticket had been the cheapest available, a way of throwing the police off his trail in Las Vegas where they’d at last tracked him to a certain hotel. Sobs caught in her throat. All at once the three weeks since Parker had left
seemed like three hours, and she was still waiting for him to come to her.

  The ticket fluttered to the floor. Leaving it on the carpet, she stumbled into the kitchen. She could hear the TV blaring from her room where Amy was probably ensconced in the big bed, her eyes fixed on the screen.

  Could Parker be in Chicago? What would make him go there? She wished desperately that she hadn’t shared her dream. The single ticket was a mockery of her trust.

  Worst was the knowledge that she wanted to hop on the plane and see if he was there waiting. What would it hurt? At the very least, she’d get a free trip to the city where she’d been born. The logical part of her mocked her, saying such an idea was ludicrous. You didn’t fly hundreds of miles for a man who’d left without saying good-bye, for a man you’d known less than a week. Yet part of her yearned to do just that.

  What was it her boss had said about going with her gut? What was her gut saying about Parker?

  Yet it really didn’t matter what her gut said. There was only one ticket, and that absolutely did not translate into a future together. Gut feeling or no gut feeling, she would never leave Amy to use his gift, not for any extended length of time. That was a fact, and the attorney in her would never let her forget it.

  Exhaustion made her mind numb and her body slow. What she needed was a good night’s sleep. Maybe she should start taking sleeping pills. Ha! Not as long as she was responsible for Amy. She tried to ignore the bitterness. Amy was her sister, and she loved her more than life. Parker was just a man. Soon she’d stop seeing him every time she shut her eyes. Soon she’d stop smelling him, remembering his kiss, how she’d laughed with him. Stop imagining lying in his arms and watching the stars in his little valley.

  Caitlin dropped her head into her hands, tears leaking between her fingers, as she replayed the events of the past weeks. Could she have done something more to convince Parker to trust her? Had he only been using her all along, hoping she’d work harder on his case if her emotions were involved? The thought made Caitlin want to curl up into a ball and die. At this rate, never dating again was beginning to look attractive.

  Amy wandered into the room. “Don’t you want these?” she asked, holding something out. “They were on the floor. Can I draw on them?”

  She was holding two tickets.

  Two?

  Caitlin grabbed them. Sure enough, there were two!

  “I hope I didn’t ruin them. They were stuck together. One’s ripped a little. I didn’t mean to rip it.”

  “That’s okay.” All at once choices stretched out before Caitlin, if not in endless combinations then at least more positively than before. He hadn’t sent her a single ticket; he’d thought of Amy, and that said a lot.

  There was still the chance he wouldn’t be there, and the tickets really were a simple thank-you for her representation. Or more likely for the help with his case. Her stomach churned. If he wasn’t there, it would mean there never had been anything real between them—anything besides the strongest attraction she’d ever experienced. There was also the increasing likelihood, given that Kenny hadn’t been able to turn up proof, that Parker had been lying to her about Dakota and the drugs.

  Still, Norma Hathaway had been pretty convincing.

  Caitlin debated for several long seconds, but when it came right down to it, none of this mattered. She needed to see Parker, and if these tickets meant a chance of that, she was going. She would choose to take the risk.

  “Amy,” she said, her voice shaking with barely controlled excitement, “how would you like to go on a trip? We could go on a plane and everything.”

  “A real plane?” Amy’s smile grew by the second. “I do want to go! Yes!”

  “Then let’s go pack.”

  She’d finished Amy’s suitcase and was halfway finished with her own when she heard the phone ringing. Caitlin answered it, not glancing at the number.

  “Hi, beautiful.” Kenny’s exuberance made her smile.

  “You have something?”

  “I found an old house owned by the boyfriend through some fake company. From what I observed of the comings and goings, it looks suspiciously like a meth lab.”

  “You think Dakota knows about it?”

  “She was there last night. Not long. An hour maybe. The little boy was screaming for some reason. That’s probably why they left so fast. This afternoon, I saw two known drug dealers leaving—people who were definitely involved with the suicide guy Dakota lived with at that other meth house. I’ve been following them for a couple hours, but I’ve lost their trail. Anyway, I’ll text you the address of the house when we hang up.”

  “Thanks. I’ll let Sally know.”

  Of course calling Sally meant the possibility of blabbing about the ticket, and Caitlin didn’t want to tell her, even if it was best for Madeline. Then again, if the information Kenny had found led them to the proof they needed, Parker would have been right all along.

  Quickly she dialed Sally’s number. “Sally? Listen. Kenny called. He says he has something. Maybe we weren’t wrong to trust Parker after all.” She quickly outlined Kenny’s suspicions. “I’m texting you the address he sent. Could you check it out?”

  “Yes, but I want to call Kenny for the particulars and then do a bit of checking on the house’s history. If I smell a rat, I’ll drive by with some of the guys on my way home. I have nothing better to do.” Sally spoke casually, though Caitlin could sense an underlying excitement in her voice. This case had nearly driven Sally crazy, especially when Parker’s trail had dried up in Nevada.

  “Thanks. And Sally, double check on the little boy while you’re talking to Dakota. If this turns out to be real, he’s not safe any more than Madeline was.”

  “I’ll take care of it. But look, don’t get your hopes up too high.”

  Too late for that. Caitlin was either headed for ecstasy or disaster. “Don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing.”

  “And what is that?”

  For the first time in three weeks, Caitlin felt real joy. “I’m going on a little trip.”

  Chapter 24

  The streets were already dark as Sally drove up to the house with five of her fellow officers. The house was small like those in the rest of the neighborhood but not in disrepair. In fact, it looked like an ordinary house on any ordinary street.

  For a moment, Sally saw what looked like a glimmer of light coming from a basement window, partially hidden by a metal window well. But no, that was most likely the reflection of the street lights.

  They had protective gear stashed in the cars against a possible need to shield themselves from toxic chemicals that might be lurking in the air. One whiff would signal the level of toxicity.

  She crunched over the unshoveled walk, praying they wouldn’t have to fire their weapons. You never knew how drug dealers would react. At least Kenny’s observations at the house that day had been strong enough to give them reason to

  conduct a search. Good thing Caitlin had kept him on the job, never mind what it must have cost her both emotionally and in cold, hard cash.

  She felt distracted as she considered her last conversation with Caitlin. Where was her friend going? It wasn’t like her to go on a trip without notice. Something was going on, either at work or in her love life. Caitlin had refused to divulge more information, though Sally had at least exacted a promise that she would call later with details. Sally had a sneaking suspicion this sudden trip involved Parker, not so much because of the timing but because of the happiness she’d heard in her friend’s voice, an aliveness that had been lacking the past three weeks. She’d been encouraging Caitlin for years to get out there and find a man, but if this really did have to do with Parker, Sally wasn’t sure it was a good idea.

  Maybe I should have her followed, Sally thought as they forced the front door open.

  “Clear!” shouted first one officer and then another as they searched each room in the house. Besides random pieces of furniture and a box of old pizza, th
ere was nothing to find.

  “Do you smell smoke?” Sally asked.

  Jim Clegg swore. “Where’s the basement?”

  They searched frantically for the door, hoping to save whatever evidence the basement might contain, but they barely made it down the steps before being overwhelmed by smoke. “No can do,” Sally screamed. “Get out!” That explained the light she’d seen in the basement, and judging by the swiftness of the blaze in the unfinished basement, it had an efficient fuel. Her lack of concentration had seriously cost them.

  By the time they made it outside to the snow-covered ground, they could see flames in the corner bedroom on the main floor, and the scream of the fire truck one of the officers had called was only blocks away.

  “Nothing,” Jim muttered, taking off his breathing mask, his face contorted with frustration. “From what I could see, the basement was empty. If there was anything here, they’ve moved it and torched the place to get rid of any evidence.”

  “They must have been warned.”

  “How? That PI was the only one who knew about this. You think he blabbed?”

  Sally shook her head. “Not a chance.”

  “We might still be able to lift evidence if we can get that fire out soon.”

  “Maybe. But you’re right; this doesn’t add up. Let’s take a drive.” She signaled to the other officers that she was leaving and headed down the drive.

  Jim jogged to keep up. “Where’re we going?”

  “To see Dakota Allen. And her boyfriend.”

  “You think they’re going to ’fess up?” His upper lip curled slightly, but Sally didn’t take offense. It was just a tick. She reminded herself to encourage him to wear a mustache. Many men with receding hairlines looked good with mustaches. Not as great as her Tony with his closely shaven head but good nonetheless.

  “No. But we might catch them by surprise.” Truth was, something was eating at her. Something that first Caitlin and then Kenny had mentioned on the phone. But what had it been?

  She revved the car as Jim slid into the passenger seat. “Hey, watch it.” He gestured to the growing crowd of people in front of the house. “We have company. Don’t want to be a bad example.”