by Pat Warren
Fallon sensed his frustration at life’s inequities and shared it. “And they have you.”
He started the van. “Yeah, but some are too far gone to accept help, from me or anyone else. Some are into drugs, prostitution, con games. I hate that, but it’s a fact. It’s the others I work to bring around. The ones who can still be saved. Like Daryl and Wendy over there.” He motioned toward the pregnant girl curled up on one of the blankets he’d left. “Her baby’s due soon. I think I’ve got her talked into stopping by tomorrow and having Paul check her over.”
Again, Fallon felt a rush of anger. “She should be in prenatal care. And where’s the baby’s father?”
“She doesn’t know or care. She was raped.” Michael started the van and pulled away, very aware of Fallon’s stunned eyes on his face.
The ride back was silent and strained. He’d given her a great deal to think about, and wondered as he glimpsed her pallor if he’d overdone it. The trouble was that Fallon McKenzie had arrived here from her safe suburban world with no idea of what she would face in trying to locate her sister. There’d been no way to pretty it up or even to tell her and have her believe. So he’d shown her instead.
And shocked the hell out of her.
He pulled the van into the side drive close to the house and got out, walking around to help her down. She was pale as a ghost as he went with her toward the back. “Are you all right?”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever be all right again.” She felt battered, bruised, disturbed. She was angry, upset and frightened. Not for herself, but for the kids out there. And for her sister, wherever she was. “I can’t remember ever feeling so overwhelmed, so hopeless. How do you stand it?”
Michael paused at the back door. “The only way I can stand it is to know that I can make a difference. Not for everyone, but in some of their lives. We take it one day at a time. If we can help one kid get back on the right path, we’ve accomplished something. If not today, then tomorrow.”
Fallon looked up at him and studied his strong features in a patch of moonlight. “I know you believe in your work, and I’ve seen that you’re very good with kids. But I honestly don’t feel that Laurie’s like any of the teenagers I’ve seen—not here or in the park, thank God. She’s not alone and had no need to run away and live on the streets. She —”
“You’re doing it again.” Her eyes were a deep emerald green in the silvery light. She was very beautiful, and very stubborn. “You’re lying to yourself. You want to believe that your sister left on a whim, a small act of defiance because her parents changed her curfew or wouldn’t let her go to that private school.”
“You don’t know that that isn’t exactly what happened.” She was growing angry again at his stubborn insistence. Her mother hadn’t been able to come up with a reason, either. How could Michael know when he’d never met Laurie, or her folks, or seen the way they live.
“Let me finish. If that had been the case, if she’d left over a minor disagreement, she wouldn’t have stayed away more than a day or so. She wouldn’t have asked around and had the phone number of my house for runaways in her pocket. She’d have gone instead to a girlfriend’s home or taken a bus to visit you and poured out her story and been back home, safely tucked in her own bed by now.”
He shook his head, placing his hands on her arms to emphasize his point. “Laurie’s been gone three weeks. She ran away for a damn good reason and frankly, I don’t think she intends to go back unless that reason is removed.”
Fallon shook off his hands and turned away. “You don’t know that for certain. You’re guessing, conjecturing, just like me.”
“You’re right. But I’ve got eight years of experience working with runaways. I’ve yet to come across a kid who left a loving, comfortable home for a frivolous reason or over a minor squabble, and stayed away for weeks.” There was a question he’d been wanting to ask her, but he hesitated. She was tired, vulnerable and scared. Yet there seemed no point in waiting, for she had to face some hard facts soon. “Have you thought of this? Is it possible that your stepfather might have come on to her?”
“Good God, no!” Instead of feeling angry, Fallon almost laughed. Was she so exhausted that she was becoming giddy? she wondered. “Roy’s the most sexless man I’ve ever known. I don’t believe Madonna in the nude strolling into the room would affect him. I’ve often wondered how my mother could stand him touching her.” Suddenly appalled at all she’d revealed, Fallon shot a look skyward, groaning inwardly. “I can’t believe I just told you all that.”
“Is that how you really feel about Roy?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Then, why not say it? Besides, your opinion’s safe with me. But I don’t think too many men can be labeled sexless, even if you might find him so.”
Fallon shook her head. “This one is. Roy’s tall and skinny with half a dozen strands of hair he carefully combs over his balding head. He has pale blue eyes, thick glasses and no discernible chin. He’s a nerd, a bean counter at the IRS, about as interesting as last week’s newspaper. But more importantly, it’s his manner, his attitude, his idiosyncrasies, his maddening self-righteousness that make him so unappealing. No, Laurie wouldn’t have permitted any touchy-feely stuff. If Roy had so much as looked at her in a suggestive way, she’d have phoned me or told Mom.”
Michael wasn’t nearly as convinced as she. Fallon hadn’t lived in her stepfather’s house since she was eighteen. Many a young girl had been molested and the mother had been unaware or chose to not make waves by looking the other way. However, he could see that Fallon wasn’t able to even imagine that at the moment. “It’s late. We can take this up again tomorrow.”
Fallon checked her watch. Nearly eleven. “I’ve got to find a motel. Can you direct me to one nearby?” Apparently he’d decided he would help her begin the search tomorrow.
“I have a better idea. There’s a room with its own bath available up on the third floor. I’ve already put your car in the garage. I can get your bag and take it up. The room’s clean and comfortable, I assure you. It’s too late to go looking for a place tonight. Tomorrow, if you want to make a change, you can.”
He was taking charge again. Why was she constantly surrounded by men who wanted to take over? Fallon wondered wearily. However, for tonight, she was just too beat to argue with him. “All right, if you’re sure.”
“Absolutely. Go inside. I’ll get your bag.”
A dim light burning over the stove cast shadows in the spotless kitchen. The rec room was empty and a sign was propped on the entryway desk. It read: In Case Of Emergency, Come Get Opal In Room 12.
Michael joined her at the foot of the stairs and led the way up. “I didn’t know you had staff staying over,” Fallon said.
“Some do. Opal has no family, so we built her a sort of minisuite on the ground floor of the dorm. Then there’s Donovan, our handyman. He’s retired but sometimes stays over when he doesn’t feel like driving home. Brian, our bookkeeper, lives in the Hillcrest area not far from here, and so does Sukey who goes home to her cat most nights. Ramona does the laundry and cleaning and she has a little house in Chula Vista. Her husband’s dead, but she’s got several kids and grandkids. I’ve told them all they’re welcome to stay any night they want, provided we have empty beds, and they can eat here, as well. Every one of them works hard.” On the third floor, he paused outside the second door.
He was close, so close that Fallon had to tilt her head back to look into his eyes. “You’re very generous.”
“Just practical. Things run more smoothly because everyone’s treated like family. It’s not just a job for anyone. They’re all committed to the kids or they don’t last.” He swung open the door and went inside to switch on the bedside lamp.
The first thing she noticed was that there were cabbage roses on the wallpaper. “I didn’t figure you to be the floral type.”
Michael set down her bag and glanced at the wall. “My mother loved cabbage roses.
I thought it might make our female guests feel at home.” He shrugged, embarrassed. “There’re stripes in the boys’ rooms. Wallpaper’s easier to keep clean than painted walls.”
Sheer white curtains hung at the window and, although the twin beds and chest of drawers were an odd lot, she could see that he’d made every effort to make the room welcoming. “Very homey. I like it.”
“As I mentioned, the rooms up here are usually for unexpected guests and any overflow. I thought you might like this one especially. It’s where Laurie slept when she was with us. We were really full up that night. I put her and her friend up here.”
Fallon swallowed hard as she walked over and ran a hand along the yellow chenille spread. Oh, Laurie, where are you?
Michael pulled out the drawer of the nightstand and removed something. He held it in his hand as she turned to him. “She left this behind.”
“Oh,” Fallon gasped. It was a pink-skirted ballerina that danced when you wound it up from the bottom of the dome. “Our father, our real father, gave that to Laurie before he died. He...he used to call her his little princess.” She swallowed down a sob that caught in her throat. “I can’t believe she left it behind.”
He watched her struggle with her emotions and wanted to take her in his arms and soothe away her tension. But she held her shoulders erect and her spine straight. “Ramona found it on the nightstand tucked behind the lamp. Laurie and Emma left when it was still dark out that morning. She probably didn’t see it in her rush to leave before anyone was awake to question her.”
Fallon took it from him and held it to her, closing her eyes for a long moment. Finally, she set it down on the nightstand and brushed away a stray tear. “I’m sorry. It’s...it’s been a long day.”
“You don’t have to be tough for me, Fallon. You may not think so, but I know what you’re going through.”
She blinked back more tears, lifting her eyes to the ceiling, fighting for the self-control she valued so dearly. He probably did know, as empathetic as he was. And he’d dealt with relatives of runaways for eight years, so he’d undoubtedly seen it all. “If what you said earlier is true—that love isn’t enough — then what can I give Laurie?”
She got to him with that simple, heartfelt question. He turned her around to face him. “Let’s find her first and take it from there, okay?”
“Then you will help me?” She needed to hear him say it out loud.
Hadn’t he known he would from the moment he’d seen her standing by the basketball court, her hair being rearranged by the breeze, her green eyes studying him intently? “Yes,” he answered softly, and heard her audible sigh of relief. “Men have a hard time saying no to you, I imagine.”
“I can’t honestly say I’ve noticed that.” Despite the lateness of the hour and the emotional roller coaster she’d been on for days, she was suddenly very aware of his nearness, the solid strength in the hands that gripped her arms, the masculine scent of him tangling her senses.
Later, Michael was to remember that he hadn’t intended to touch her, although he’d wanted to. But she’d looked so lost and scared that the next thing he knew, she was in his arms and he was holding her, comforting her. She seemed a little stunned, a little slow to react. Then her arms encircled him, her touch tentative. He eased her fractionally closer, felt her cheek press into his chest. She felt soft, feminine, fragile. He bent his head slightly and inhaled the delicious scent of her hair.
Fallon felt Michael’s heart beating beneath her ear, strong and steady. She hadn’t thought she needed simple human contact until a moment or two ago. She drew in a deep breath, then let it out, feeling some of the tension flow from her. It seemed as if Michael, in agreeing to help her search, was taking a portion of the burden from her shoulders, lightening her load. She closed her eyes in gratitude, moving infinitesimally closer.
He liked the way they fit together, the way her breasts felt against his chest, the way her slender form pressed into him so unobtrusively. She was thinking of comfort, not sensuality, he was certain. He, on the other hand, had a little trouble separating the two. He tightened his hold on her and felt his arms tremble slightly.
When was the last time a woman had caused him to tremble? he wondered.
Finally, Fallon eased back and looked up at him, surprisingly unembarrassed. She saw him smile, the dimples deepening, and she smiled back. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Her response surprised him. No one had ever thanked him for a hug before. Reluctantly, he stepped back. “I’ll be in the room across the hall. The key’s in the door, so lock up.” Hand on the knob, he turned back. “Sleep well.”
“You, too, Michael.” After he left, she closed the door and turned the key. She felt drained, yet somehow better than when she’d come into the room. She walked to the bed and sat down, her eyes moving to the ballerina. Carefully, she wound it up and watched the figure spin and dance.
“We’re going to find you, honey,” she whispered into the quiet room. “I promise you.”
Chapter 4
Fallon was an early riser. By five, she was up and dressed, down in the kitchen making coffee. She wasn’t sure what time Sukey usually arrived. She hoped the friendly cook wouldn’t mind, but she badly needed her morning coffee.
In Denver, the newspaper was delivered early and Fallon loved to begin her day with coffee and the headlines. The first cup got her juices flowing while she cast a critical eye on the store’s ads featuring some of her buys. It was her habit to take another cup into the bathroom while she showered and dressed. Oddly, the second cup calmed her, although everyone she knew argued that caffeine wouldn’t allow that.
The last spurt dripped into the pot. Fallon found a mug in the cupboard and poured. Strolling into the dining room, she sat down at the big, empty table and sipped. Her thoughts were skittering every which way, another reason she’d gotten up early. She’d fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion last night right after her shower, yet her sleep had been restive rather than restful.
She wondered how things were going back in Denver. Craig Miller, the manager over all the buyers, had been polite and seemingly understanding when she’d called to request more time off. But he was new on the job and she didn’t know him well. She had no idea how to gauge his tolerance level. She certainly didn’t want to lose her job, and hoped she could keep her absence within the bounds of reason. Barring that, she hoped Craig would understand how important it was for her to find Laurie.
Taking the last swallow, Fallon rose to pour another cup. She expected that Michael would awaken ready to help her begin searching. She’d brought a good picture of Laurie from home. Probably they should go to a print shop first, have flyers made up using the photo and distribute them around to places like that park where teens gathered, and also drop some off with the sergeant.
Fallon glanced up at the wall clock, thinking she should phone her mother and update her. Too early, of course. Besides, she would rather call when she knew Roy had already left for work. Her mother always seemed repressed when he was around. For the umpteenth time, she wondered how Jane Gifford could live like that. Even the financial stability she’d so desperately craved after Dad’s death wouldn’t be worth it, in Fallon’s estimation. It was a trade-off, she supposed, with her mother getting the rough end of the bargain.
She stood at the window, looking out at the dormitorystyle building next door. She could see signs of movement, blinds opening, a shade rising. Naturally, she had no idea of the usual daily routine at Michael’s House. She guessed that the kids would have breakfast, then the instructors would arrive and classes would begin on the second floor. It was a big operation, when filled to capacity. And over it all presided Michael Redfield.
She barely tasted the coffee she drank as thoughts of Michael flooded her mind. She pictured him refereeing the basketball game, offering food and blankets and hope to the kids in the park, talking with compassionate authority to Daryl in the van and then hugging him on the porch.
The embrace hadn’t been sexual, although she would have to be dead not to be aware of him as a man. It had been brief and undemanding. But when she’d turned off the light and snuggled down on the pillow, she’d closed her eyes and felt his arms still around her, still comforting her.
Silly, Fallon told herself as she drained her cup. He wasn’t interested in her any more than she was in him. Michael had his hands full with his young guests and their many problems. And she had a few worries of her own, with a sister missing, a mother anxious and a stepfather highly annoyed at all three of them.
She turned back to the counter and was pouring her third cup when she heard a sound behind her.
“I see you share my addiction,” Michael said as he walked over.
“Good morning.” Fallon glanced over her shoulder. He was wearing scruffy running shoes, black jeans and a black knit shirt that made his hair look even blonder. His eyes were like blue pools in his tanned face. She felt her mouth go dry and found herself annoyed at her reaction to him.
Reaching into the cupboard, Michael grabbed a mug and held it out as he checked the time. “Sukey’s not here yet?”
“I haven’t seen her.”
Before he took the first sip, he angled his head and looked her over from head to foot. He knew she hadn’t had much sleep, yet she looked like something a man locked away for years might dream up. Her skin was the shade of a fresh peach with that terrific hair curving around her face. Her huge green eyes were cool, measuring. He gulped the hot liquid and nearly scalded his tongue.
She was wearing another silk blouse, this time with a skirt, and heels. Despite the fact that he thought her legs were sensational, she was dressed all wrong. “Did you plan on looking for your sister today?”
“I’d hoped we could start as soon as you’re ready.”
He put on a frown. “Don’t you own anything, you know, casual? I mean, that’s a great outfit, but we’re going to be doing a lot of walking, probably not in the best parts of town. You look like you’re dressed for high tea at the Del Coronado, not strolling the streets of the inner city.”