“It’s your decision.”
Another circle. “Ask me.”
She tried to back away, but he wouldn’t let her. He held her gaze and stroked her hand. “I can’t tell you what you should do,” Frankie muttered.
“Yes, you can.” He leaned forward. “Would you ask me if I kissed you?”
He watched her with half-closed eyes.
Bedroom eyes.
“Fine. Stay.” She took a breath. “Please.”
“Yes.” He squeezed her hand. “Why would I want to work with a tool like Bascombe when I could be here with you and the kids?”
Cal had made her forget about Bascombe, but now it all came rushing back. Frankie yanked her hand away. “The kids will be here any second. We should get ready.”
His eyes weren’t teasing anymore. They narrowed, and she knew what was coming next. Questions about Bascombe.
Questions she had no intention of answering.
“I have to make a phone call, Cal,” she said without looking at him. “Would you mind closing the door on your way out?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SHE FELT CAL HESITATE in the doorway, so she picked up her phone and pushed speed-dial one. When she realized her hand was shaking, she gripped the receiver more tightly.
“Hey, Nate,” she said when her brother answered. “How’re things going? How are you doing?”
“I’m fine, Frankie,” Nathan answered. “Sorry I dumped on you last week. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“I’m glad you did,” she replied as the door shut behind her. “Who else are you going to dump on?”
She heard the air-hockey puck crashing against the side of the table in the other room. Again and again. Then the clatter as it went into the slot. Cal was taking out his aggressions on the hockey game.
Better than on Bascombe.
“Not you,” her brother said. “You have enough problems of your own.”
He had no idea. “Actually, there’s something I want to talk to you and Marco about. You guys mind if I stop by tonight?”
“We’d love to see you,” Nathan said, his voice brightening. “Marco will be excited, too. He’s got a bunch of ideas for new dishes, and he’s always looking for a victim…I mean a test subject.”
She heard Marco say something rude in the background, and Nathan laughed. “See you tonight.”
“You will. Love you, Nate.”
“Love you, too, Bunny.”
WHO THE HELL was she talking to?
Cal carefully set the plastic disk on the air-hockey table. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop on Frankie’s conversation. But the office door hadn’t latched properly, and her low, intimate tone drifted out.
“Love you, Nate.”
Cal froze, his hand tightening on the side of the table. Then he relaxed.
Frankie wouldn’t have kissed him last night if she was in love with someone else. He was sure about that. But he still wanted to know who Nate was. What he was to her.
Cal cracked the puck into the slot again. He had no claim on Frankie. No right to know who she was talking to.
He wanted to, though.
And that was stupid. He couldn’t get tangled up with a woman like Frankie. She was nothing like the celebrity groupies he usually dated, women who knew the score. Frankie was real. Complicated.
The kind of woman he avoided at all costs.
Last night, he’d kissed her on a whim. Just because he’d wondered what she tasted like? How she would feel?
If she would kiss as passionately as she did everything else.
A couple of kisses in a filthy parking garage. That was all it had been. But once his mouth touched hers, he hadn’t cared where they were. He hadn’t thought about anything but Frankie.
He wanted more. A lot more. Today, at rehab, he hadn’t worried about the new safety the Cougars had drafted. He hadn’t noticed the pain in his knee.
The only thing he’d thought about was Frankie.
That was dangerous. He didn’t have room in his life for a woman like her.
He was happy with his life the way it was.
No more after-hours excursions with her. No more trading intimate bits of their lives.
No more letting her distract him from what he had to do, which was get ready for the football season. Finish this community service and go back to his real life.
Even if it was beginning to look a little barren.
When she walked out of her office, he was shoring up the short leg of the Ping-Pong table. He heard her approaching, but didn’t turn. Finally, she stepped into his space, her scuffed black boots less than a foot from his head.
He stood, moving so that the table was between them. “Hey, Frankie.”
She gestured. “Thanks for fixing that.”
“That’s why I’m here, right? My superior engineering skills.”
“Absolutely.” Her smile looked forced. “Listen, Cal. Before the kids come, I just want to make sure we’re clear on something.” She swallowed, and he watched her pulse jump in her neck. “If you need to work with Bascombe, I’ll understand. No hard feelings.”
Cal knew he should take what she was offering. It would be a lot easier than spending another three weeks here. He opened his mouth, but couldn’t force the words out.
Finally he shrugged. “If I had to work with Bascombe, I’d get arrested again. Because sooner or later, I’d knock the snot out of that pompous ass. So I’ll stick around here.”
She smiled, a genuine one this time, and her shoulders relaxed. “Good. Thank you. But it’s okay if you change your mind.”
“Got it.”
They stared at each other a beat too long, then Frankie spun around and hurried away. “The kids will be here in a few minutes.”
Thank God.
It would give him something else to think about.
“GODDAMN IT, FRANKIE!” Nathan jumped up from his chair at the corner table in Mama’s Place, and a diner at a nearby table dropped her fork.
Frankie yanked him back into his chair. “Settle down, Nate,” she said in a low voice. “I’m not telling you this to get you worked up. I need your help.”
“I’ll help. I’ll kick his ass for you, Frankie,” Marco said with gritted teeth.
What was it with her and aggressive men? “You settle down, too, Marco,” she retorted. “I appreciate the sentiment, but we need to solve a problem here. Not go off half-cocked.”
“Oh, I’d be completely cocked,” Marco promised.
“Dude! Focus!” She cleared her throat when another diner glanced at them. “Look, maybe we should discuss this later.” She’d timed this badly. She should have done it during the afternoon, when there weren’t so many witnesses. “I’ll come back tomorrow, before FreeZone opens.”
“No.” Nathan stood abruptly and pushed his chair back. “You’re right, we can’t talk about this here. We’ll go to the house.” He waved to one of the waitresses, a short, slender woman with auburn hair. “Hey, Darcy,” he said when she arrived. “You know my sister, Frankie, right?”
“Sure. How are you?” Darcy said with a smile.
“We need to go home for a while,” Nathan said. “Could you seat people for an hour or so and keep an eye on things?”
“No problem, Nate.”
She moved away, and Frankie looked at her brother. “You trust her to take over for you.”
“Yeah, she’s smart. Organized. Pays attention to every detail.”
“Maybe you should let her manage Mama’s while you take some time off.”
He stared at Darcy, who was leading a couple to a table with a smile. “I never thought about that.”
“You should.” Frankie watched Nathan track his employee’s progress through the dining room. “You interested in her?”
“God, no.” He turned horrified eyes on Frankie. “She’s like another sister. And don’t try to change the subject. Let’s go.”
Ten minutes later, they were home. Nathan’s home now. The cheerful yellow walls and old wooden table in the kitchen were familiar. Comfortable. Frankie inhaled a deep breath and outlined for her brothers what had happened. She didn’t give them details. She didn’t want to make them even more angry.
She didn’t want to think about the details herself.
She looked down and realized that Marco was holding one of her hands, Nathan the other.
“I went to see him a few weeks ago,” she said. “I told him he had to resign or I’d go to the media. He didn’t, of course. He showed up at FreeZone yesterday and demanded Cal. Just to show me who had the power.”
“Who’s Cal?” Nathan asked.
“My community-service volunteer.”
“Why would he want your volunteer?” Marco asked.
Frankie felt heat creep up her face and tugged her hands away. “He’s a football player. Kind of a celebrity. Bascombe thought he could use him for publicity.”
“Hang on. You’re talking about Cal Stewart,” Nate said, his mouth flattening. “That guy was arrested for breaking a guy’s jaw in a bar fight. And he’s working with your kids?”
“The guy was pushing a woman around,” Frankie retorted. “After he’d been hassling Cal all night.”
Nathan’s eyes narrowed. “You’re defending him? Ms. Peace and Nonviolence, Frankie Devereux?”
“Not the subject, Nate,” she said, her face burning. “Cal isn’t the issue here. Bascombe is.”
Marco leaned forward. “You can’t be the only one he molested. There are other women out there. You have to find them.”
“How do I do that? I can’t just put an ad in the newspaper.”
“Let’s talk to Patrick on Skype,” Nathan said. “I bet he would know.”
Ten minutes later, Frankie was telling the story again. Patrick’s expression got darker and his eyes glittered. “We’ll nail him, Frankie,” he said from his home in Detroit. “He’s not going to get away with this.”
“I wish I’d told you guys about this when it happened,” she whispered. “But I was too scared. Too ashamed.”
“That’s what sexual predators count on,” Patrick said. He looked every inch the dangerous FBI agent. “I’ll do some checking on him. Maybe he has a prior arrest or complaint.”
“Thanks, Paddy,” she said. “But Marco’s right. What we really need is to find other women he’s molested. Can you get some names of girls who were in juvie around the time I was?”
“Those records are sealed, Frankie.”
“I know the FBI can get them if they need them.”
“Not for personal reasons.”
“But he has to be stopped. I’d file charges if I could, but we all know it’s too late for that. Can’t you bend the rules a little?” she begged.
Patrick shook his head. “Sorry, Bunny, but I can’t do that. Not only would I be breaking the law, but those records are sealed for a reason. The women would freak out if you approached them with questions.”
“Then, what am I going to do?” she asked.
“Hold on for a while longer,” Patrick said. “Let me see if I can find anything through legitimate channels.”
“Because God forbid you take one step off the straight and narrow,” she muttered.
“I heard that, smart-ass,” Patrick said. “I’m sworn to uphold the law, and I won’t go against that unless every other option has been ruled out. I’ll call you as soon as I know anything, okay?”
“Thanks, Paddy,” she said. They turned off the computer, and she pushed herself away from the table. “And thank you, too, guys. Let me know if you think of anything else.”
Nathan enfolded her in a hug. “I wish we’d been able to protect you back then,” he said.
“You did protect me,” she answered, kissing him. “I put myself in juvie, but you got me out.”
A COUPLE DAYS LATER, an attractive blonde woman walked into FreeZone. It was the social worker Cal had met the other night at the hospital, the one who’d taken charge of Ramon. He hadn’t noticed much about her that night; he’d been too focused on Frankie.
Today, he saw that the woman’s hair was a wavy cloud around her face. She wore a colorful skirt, red Chuck Taylors and dangly earrings that looked like fishing lures. She swept Harley into a hug, then gave one to Frankie.
It figured that Frankie’s friends would be as unconventional-looking as she was.
The social worker—Emma, that was her name—spoke to Harley for a few moments, then absently smoothed her hand over the girl’s hair as she nodded toward the office, clearly signaling that she needed to talk to Frankie in private.
The two women were halfway there, heads together and talking, when Frankie grabbed Emma’s arm. Then she looked for Cal and jerked her chin, silently asking him to join them. When he arrived, Emma was perched on the desk, watching her pace.
“Ramon has disappeared,” Frankie said.
“He’s probably at the hospital.” The way the kid had acted around his mom the other night, Cal was surprised the social worker had been able to convince him to leave her.
“No, he’s not.” Frankie put a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. You remember Emma Sloane, right? She took charge of Ramon that night.”
“Of course. Nice to see you again, Emma,” he said, shaking her hand.
“Cal.” She glanced at Frankie. “Are you sure we want to—”
“Yes,” Frankie interrupted. “Cal is just as invested in Ramon as I am.”
He wouldn’t go that far, but for Frankie’s sake, he wanted the kid to be okay. “Yeah, I want to help. What’s going on?”
“I placed him in a foster home.” Emma’s knee jiggled beneath her skirt. “It’s a family I know well. I’ve used them before in emergency situations, and they’re good people.”
“And…?” Frankie asked.
“Ramon left this morning and said he was going to school. But he never showed up. I checked with Yolanda, and he was at the hospital early—probably right after he left the foster home. But he didn’t stay long, and she has no idea where he went.” The social worker’s mouth thinned. “Or at least nothing she’s willing to share.”
The two women exchanged a long look. Then Frankie sighed. “You think he’s gone back to the Vipers.”
“Where else would he go? He has no family other than his mother. I went to their house, but he wasn’t there. The attendance office made a few phone calls, but they couldn’t find a thing.”
“He promised me he wouldn’t.”
“Where else would he be?” Emma retorted.
“Okay, I’ll see what I can find out,” Frankie said.
Cal stepped in front of her as she paced. “What are you going to do?”
“Go to where the Vipers hang out, of course. We need to find him before he gets hurt. Or worse.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Cal took a step toward her. She barely reached his shoulder, but she didn’t back down.
“I know a few of the kids in that gang. They know who I am. It’ll be fine.”
“The hell it will.” He glanced at Emma. “Tell her she can’t do that.”
The woman gave him a strained smile. “Haven’t you realized no one tells Frankie she can’t do something?”
“This is whacked.”
“You have a better idea?” Frankie asked.
“Yeah. Do nothing. Or go wait at the hospital until he shows up to see his
mom.”
“That might be too late. He’s been trying to leave the Vipers, and gangs don’t like it when their boys leave. There’s no telling what they’ll do to him.”
“Then he’d be smart not to go there, wouldn’t he?”
Frankie paced again. “He’s upset. Lost. His mom is sick and he’s living in a stranger’s house. He might go back to the Vipers because they’re familiar.” She pressed her lips together. “If they get hold of him again, we won’t get him back.”
“Frankie.” Cal stopped her as she brushed by him. “If he really left, he won’t go back. He’d know what would happen.”
“If he left?” She bristled and yanked away from him. “You think it was all a ruse?”
“Until the other night, I was sure it was. Now? I don’t know.” Cal took her hand and absently rubbed his thumb over her palm. The calluses he felt reminded him again that she was nothing like any other woman he knew. “But barging into a group of gangbangers isn’t smart. It’s dangerous.”
“Frankie, I have to agree with him.” Emma acknowledged their joined hands with a tiny smile. Cal let go. “We’ll figure out where he’s gone without poking a stick into the Vipers’ hole.”
Frankie looked from one to the other with resolve. “I’m going to try and help Ramon.”
“I want to help him, too, but maybe we need to cool off and think this through,” Emma said, sliding off the desk and pausing with her hand on the doorknob. “I have to go. Don’t do anything rash, Frankie.”
She glanced at Cal, and the question in her eyes was easy to read.
He nodded once. He might not be able to stop Frankie if she was determined to do something stupid, but he’d make sure she didn’t do it by herself.
Emma’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m heading over to Ramon’s foster house. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”
Cal watched her leave, uneasiness stirring again. Emma had assumed he’d be able to reason with Frankie. Protect her.
“Listen, Frankie,” he began, but she held up her hand.
“Not now, Cal. The kids are waiting for us.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
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