"Hi, Dad," she said without emotion, despite her frazzled nerves.
"Kelly?" He recognized her voice immediately, and that surprised her. "Is your brother safe? Are you both coming home?"
He sounded sincere, and considering she'd caught him off-guard, he might not even be faking. "No, Dad. I'm sorry. But we hope to have him with us later today."
He released an audible breath. "Thank God. You don't know how much—" After a pause, he went on in a less steady voice, "I've missed him. And I've missed you."
She closed her eyes, the doubt swelling in her chest until it took up so much room her breaths became shallow. Time to ask her questions. "Why do you miss us, Dad? I mean, after the way you treated us as kids, the humiliation, the beatings, how can you suddenly make such a drastic change and expect us to believe you?" Her voice had risen on the last few words, and Sam shook his head, gesturing for her to calm down.
Her father didn't answer, but his breathing sounded labored, and she heard him swallow.
It would be easier to get through this if she wasn't so darn tense. Tilting her head from side to side to work out the stiffness in her neck, she jumped when Sam placed two roughened hands on her shoulders and began kneading the muscles there. It felt wonderful. As the knots loosened, so did her tongue, and she began to relax.
"Look, Dad. I called because I need your help. We need your help. I want to tape a message from you that I can play for Jake when we find him."
"What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to be honest," she said gently. "He won't believe your apology if it doesn't make sense. And that's why I—why we—need to understand what's changed to make you care about us now."
"I've always cared, Kelly," he said curtly.
She gestured for Sam to switch on the recorder.
"I was a proud man, and a stupid one," he went on, though he no longer sounded edgy. "I'm sorry for that. I realize now that my methods of discipline were more destructive than helpful, but I can't change what I did. I can only say how sorry I am and that I regret how I treated you kids. Can you forgive me?"
"I don't know. It would help if I understood what happened to make you change."
Another long pause before he said, "I'm afraid you won't believe me if I tell you."
Her anger started rising again. "Should I guess? Okay, how about you've come into an inheritance that won't kick in unless your kids live at home. No? All right, then you won a trip to Disney World, but it's for families only. Can't miss the Magic Kingdom when you don't have to pay for it, huh, Dad? Am I getting warm?"
"Kelly, I have cancer."
This shut her up. She glanced up at Sam, who had stopped his massage the second she started her tirade. His scowl was so deep it looked like a scar carved into his forehead.
She stared down at the phone, realizing her father had been right. She did find it hard to believe. "You have cancer?"
"Prostate. It's treatable, and my prognosis is good, but learning I have cancer forced me to reevaluate my life. If I beat this thing, I'll have a second chance to better myself and maybe even right the wrongs I've done. First on the list is to fix things between myself and my kids."
Blinking, she exhaled a labored breath. Her emotions waged a battle between anger and sorrow. If his mortality hadn't been threatened, would her father have bothered trying to make amends? "I'm sorry to hear this, Dad. I really am."
There was a smile in his voice when he said, "Just hearing you say that gives me hope. When you find Jake and convince him to come home, we can start over. Just the three of us. We can be the kind of family we always should have been."
It all sounded wonderful. She wanted to forgive him, but instant forgiveness wasn't possible. Too much damage had been done. He'd inflicted too many injuries, physical and emotional, for her to easily forgive and forget. But with time, she felt confident they could work things out and move toward a more amiable relationship, if not a loving one.
Now for the biggy. "Do you love Jake?" And do you love me?
"I love Jake with all my puckered old heart," her father said with a chuckle, though his voice had cracked. "And I love you, too."
Her eyes were suddenly wet, and she wiped them dry with the back of her hand. She had just heard words she'd never heard uttered by her mean-spirited father. He loved her. And he loved Jake. This was just what her brother needed to hear.
She swallowed and said, "Thanks, Dad."
"You're welcome. I have to leave for the airport now, but you be sure to call me at home just as soon as Jake's safe, you hear me? The next time we talk, I want him on the phone, too."
"No problem." And she hoped there really wouldn't be.
****
"Are you sure Star Mother's new campsite is at Joshua Tree?" Kelly asked.
Why did she feel the need to question him on every detail? Sam peered skyward, praying for patience, then refocused on the highway ahead. First it was the nine-millimeter Glock he'd brought with him, asking him why it was so small. Shouldn't he have a machine gun or one of those high-powered rifles like in the movies? Well, he did have such a rifle hidden in the Jeep's backseat compartment, but he wasn't about to tell her that. And why didn't he have a gun for her? Sheesh. He was in for a very long afternoon.
He shifted gears and said, "I checked the Internet sites you missed and found one transmission from a Star Mother member. My hacker friend traced the IP address to a diner in Joshua Tree. We'll find the new campsite there."
"It's a big desert," she said, sounding petulant. "How can you expect to find—?"
"I'll ask around. That's how it works. I check convenience stores where they would get supplies, gas stations where they'd refuel, and any rest stops and strip malls in the area they transmitted from."
"That'll take forever."
His eye began to twitch. "If you have a better idea, I'd like to hear it."
She ignored him and glanced in the backseat. "We could have gotten an earlier start if you hadn't picked up Cody from the vet. I thought you said he needed to stay there overnight."
He angled the rearview mirror to get a glimpse of the coyote, who lay sleeping on the backseat. In hindsight, maybe he should have left him at the vet, but he wanted to keep an eye on his progress. "Cody's my right-hand man, and I depend on him to create distractions while I do my job."
"I thought I'd be your right-hand man this time," Kelly said, pushing herself deeper into the seat. "Or should I say right-hand woman. I can create distractions if you show me how."
He reminded himself that bringing her along was a good idea. What had happened this morning in his cabin was too close for comfort. If Sam hadn't arrived when he had, she might have ended up back at Star Mother's camp and been subjected to whatever new means of mind control the cult had developed. The thought made him clench his jaw against his simmering, five-year-old rage.
He felt responsible for Kelly, but that wasn't all that raised his hackles. He cared about her. He'd been attracted to women in the past, even had a few meaningless flings while living in the dozens of towns his intervention operation had sent him to, but what he felt for Kelly was different. After their long talk this morning, his perception of her had changed. It pleased him to realize a friendship was developing between them. He admired her independence, even her willfulness, as aggravating as it was. And he admired the subtle sweetness that peeked through now and then. He enjoyed her company.
Sam understood her reasons for closing herself off, and he respected her for them. He was even grateful. Because if anything more intimate were to develop between them, it would have to be after a successful intervention with Jake, not before. This job required his full concentration, and they couldn't afford distractions. So until the time was right, he'd keep his feelings to himself. The invisible wall she'd built around herself would make that easy.
"How much farther?" Kelly asked.
"Not much," Sam said. "The diner's straight ahead. I see the sign."
She lea
ned forward and squinted. "You've got to be kidding. There's really a place called 'Bill's Eats'?"
"What amazes me is that a hole-in-the-wall diner out in the boonies would have an Internet connection." He pulled into the graveled parking lot, waving away the dust his tires stirred into a cloud that whirled through the open windows.
Kelly coughed. "Can I wait for you out here?"
"Not a good idea."
"Cody will protect me."
Sam peered in the backseat at Cody, who cocked his head at a quizzical angle. "I don't think so. He won't be protecting anyone for a couple of hours yet, so I'd rather you stay with me for now."
She offered him a flirtatious smile, looking pleased with his suggestion instead of giving him attitude. Kelly was a complicated woman. One minute she was mad at him, the next she seemed excited over everything he did.
"Madame?" He offered her his arm, half expecting her to slap it away. "May I escort you to the dining room?"
Her smile broadened, and she giggled, slipping her warm, soft hand in the crook of his arm. "My pleasure, monsieur."
Sam hardly noticed the hot wind that blew road dirt into a dust storm around them as they approached the diner's greasy front door. A twig from a tumbleweed landed in Kelly's hair, and he gingerly plucked it out.
She gazed up at him, smiling warmly. Her attention flicked from him to the door, and she slipped her hand from his arm. Her cheerful expression vanished, and the mischievous light left her eyes. "We better hurry. The day will be over before we know it."
The woman was like a light switch: on one minute, off the next. He'd be damned if he'd ever figure her out. He swung his hand toward the door and bowed. "After you."
Not waiting for him to open it for her, Kelly yanked it wide and entered, with Sam just a few steps behind.
He quickly identified the diner's owner, who was a slight man in his late fifties with thinning gray hair that hadn't seen a comb in days. The man's T-shirt appeared amazingly white against the grease-spotted apron tied across his paunch.
When Sam placed his hand at the small of Kelly's back to steer her forward, she jumped.
Why was she so nervous? "Are you okay?" he asked, genuinely concerned. He hoped she wasn't acting this way because of something he’d said.
"Fine," she said, using the same clipped tone she had used last night when they'd arrived at his cabin. "Bathroom."
He pointed at a restroom sign at the end of an aisle flanked by a dozen empty booths. "I'll go talk to this guy for a minute. You want anything? Hungry? Thirsty?"
"Diet Coke," she said, and walked stiffly down the narrow aisle toward the restrooms.
****
Once inside the bathroom, Kelly chastised herself for behaving like a lovesick teenager. She hadn't flirted like that since high school. How embarrassing.
She stared at her bedraggled reflection in the dirty mirror above a pair of ancient porcelain sinks. Tangles of chestnut hair hung limply to her shoulders, her tanned face void of makeup. It made her wide-set eyes look flat and unappealing. They'd left the cabin in a rush so she hadn't had time to fix her hair or makeup, which was why she'd brought her backpack along. She reached inside, digging past the small cassette player that held the tape of her father's message, and grabbed her brush from the bottom.
"You're hopeless," she said to her reflection while raking the brush through her tangled mop. An intelligent, handsome man like Sam deserved better than a plain Jane like her.
"You talkin' to me?" came a voice from the bathroom stall behind her.
"No!" Kelly spun around to face an old woman emerging from the stall. "Sorry. I didn't know anyone was in here."
"S'alright," said the woman, who teetered a bit as she made her way to one of the sinks. "I'd agree with ya if ya was. I'm 'bout as hopeless as they come."
"No, ma'am," Kelly said, embarrassment making her face hot. "I was talking to myself."
The older woman leaned close to the mirror to inspect her heavily penciled eyebrows and brightly rouged cheeks. "My word, but I wish I had your skin. And those eyes! Deary, God blessed you with the face of an angel."
Kelly's blush deepened. "Thank you."
"Now what's this about bein' hopeless?"
She shrugged and glanced at the bathroom door, worried that Sam would overhear even though she knew that was impossible.
The woman chuckled. "I seen you and your fella through the winda soon as you pulled up. My, but he's a looker. I gather he thinks the same of you."
Self-conscious, Kelly ran her fingers through her hair. "Not likely."
Frowning, the woman said, "Quite the gentleman, ain't he, the way he offered you his arm and bowed. I know a smitten man when I see one."
Smitten? Yeah, right. "I wish."
"You're sweet on him, ain't ya?"
She nodded. It felt odd to confide such things to a stranger, but why not? She had nothing to lose, and it wasn't like the old woman would say anything to Sam.
"I've been around men all my life," Kelly said. "Everyone in my family is male, but this man—his name's Sam—is different." Different because he cared and because she could trust him. Sam seemed to like her for who she was, and he even paid attention to what was important to her. He'd opened up and shared some painful parts of his past, as she had shared hers with him. It was too bad unhappy childhoods were about all they had in common.
She sighed. "I don't think I'm Sam's type."
"Nonsense," the old woman said, patting Kelly on the arm. "I seen the way he looked at ya. Just let him know how ya feel."
If only it were that simple. "You don't understand."
Unoffended, the woman gave her another friendly pat and said, "Give it a try, deary. You might be surprised." She shuffled out the door, leaving Kelly by herself.
Could Sam be as attracted to her as she was to him? Maybe the old woman was right. She should tell Sam how she felt and let fate take its course.
She stepped into one of the stalls to use the toilet, and while she was in there, she heard the bathroom door open and swing shut. More company. She listened for someone to enter the stall beside her, then strained to hear a sink running. But all was quiet. Maybe whoever it was had just come in to check her makeup and left.
Lugging her backpack off the floor, Kelly pulled the stall door open and stopped. Someone stood facing the mirror, and it wasn't a woman. It was Jake.
He turned to face her, his gaunt face looking peaceful and full of joy at the sight of her. "Kelly. It's about time you showed up. What took you so long?"
Her heart sped up as she glanced around the bathroom for anyone else. She crouched down to peer under the second stall.
"I'm alone," he assured her, but she didn't believe him. There had to be someone with him, someone who drove a beat-up blue van.
"How did you know I'd come here?" she asked, trying to mask the suspicion in her voice. She was thrilled to see him but couldn't ignore her trepidation after what had happened that morning.
"We know how The Arrow works." He stared at her, his blue eyes dull, sunken and unfocused. "I made sure to send a transmission from this IP address so that he'd track me here. And I'd hoped he would bring you along. Are you ready to go?"
"Go where?"
"To Star Mother's camp. The starship will arrive in a couple of days, and we must prepare for the voyage."
Hands shaking, she unzipped her pack and pulled out the tiny cassette player. This might be her only chance. "I have something for you, Jake. It's a message from Dad."
His expression suddenly changed to something more familiar. He looked curious, reminiscent of when he was a boy. "Dad has a message for me?"
"I recorded it so you could hear it for yourself." She pressed the play button and turned up the volume. His expression went from curious to angry as he listened to her challenge their father's reason for wanting his children back. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.
Jake's face reddened, his pale neck blotchy with the heat
of contained rage, which abruptly dissipated when he heard their father say he had cancer.
"Cancer," Jake said softly, leaning closer to the cassette player. She turned the volume up.
Jake's expression looked doubtful when their father said he loved him, but he perked up when the conversation sounded as if directed right at him.
"Jake, son," their father said, his voice sounding tinny through the tiny speaker in the cassette player. "Please come home, boy. I was an idiot for kicking you out of the house, and I want to make it up to you. Remember the computer college you wanted to go to? I have all the booklets and brochures waiting for you here, and I've talked to the counselor at your high school. You can take correspondence courses for the last few credits you need to graduate. It'll be great, son! Your room is just as you left it, and I even bought you a new computer. It has all your favorite computer games, and I got Internet cable that makes all that web stuff faster than a phone line. Listen to your sister now." His voice turned gruffer and a little hesitant when he added, "Jake, I love you. And I want you to come home."
Kelly watched, transfixed, as her brother's eyes welled. One tear spilled over and left a pale trail through the grime that darkened his cheeks.
"Jake?" she whispered in the wake of the player's empty hiss. "Are you okay?"
He dropped to his knees in front of her, his face screwed up in anguish, his chin quivering. He reached for the player in her hand, and she gave it to him.
"Dad," he said to it, his voice hoarse with emotion. "What you saw between me and Mike wasn't what you thought. I'm not gay. I really like girls and..." He broke down, silent sobs making his thin shoulders shake.
Kelly's heart swelled. She'd done it. Jake was coming home!
Now to get Sam in here.
The tiny bathroom window shattered, and two men dropped in through it, landing on their feet amidst shards of broken glass.
****
Sam glanced around the seedy diner, taking in the battered fifties decor that was probably the original stuff. The large picture windows were filmy with cooking grease, and the stained linoleum made him queasy.
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