by Karen Young
“I need a signature on this form,” she told Sims. “Isn’t there some way you can locate her parents? They’re bound to be somewhere in this area.”
“Unless she’s a runaway,” Helen Falco said.
Sims shook his head. “I don’t think so. This one’s county, I believe. According to Jerry here, she’s living with a foster family, but he doesn’t have a name or address.”
Rachel looked at the boy. He was pale and sweating. It was obvious that he’d taken something, too, but he’d been luckier than Regina. He was still on his feet. Barely. She pitched her voice low, sensing that any show of aggression would be the wrong approach. “Jerry, do you know anybody we might contact for Regina?”
“No,” he mumbled sullenly, looking at his feet.
“How long have you known her?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Couple of years, I guess.”
“And you’ve never met her family? Her mother? Anyone?”
He raised his eyes to hers. “She don’t have nobody. And it won’t do any good to call those people, because they don’t care about Regina.”
Rachel glanced at Ed Sims, whose look gave her no help. “You mean her foster family?” she asked Jerry.
“Yeah, I guess.” He was sullen again, his quick flare of temper spent. He looked at Sims. “Can I go now?”
“Yeah, you can go,” Sims said, clamping a hand on one of the boy’s thin shoulders. “You can go straight to Juvenile and sober up, Jerry. Then you can spend a little time with Jacky Kendall. You remember Jacky, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I remember her.” Jerry tried to shake Sims’s hold on his shoulder, but the officer ignored it.
“She’s gonna be disappointed in you, Jerry. Last time we busted you, you promised her that you were turning over a new leaf.”
“I tried,” he mumbled.
Sims swore in disgust, but Rachel sensed it was directed more at the world in general than at the boy.
“Go get in the car,” he growled. “That girl could have died just now, you know that?”
As Jerry faced off with Ed Sims, his eyes were suddenly too bright. His throat worked and he swallowed once, hard, but said nothing. Then he turned, stumbling slightly, and headed for the door.
Rachel’s heart twisted. “Ed…”
He released a sigh. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hassle him anymore. At least, not today. The condition he’s in, he probably won’t remember it anyway. Maybe Jacky can do some good with him this time.” He gave her a brief half smile. “Y’all take care of Regina. When we saw the shape she was in, we didn’t waste any time hauling her over here. Not even ten o’clock and they’re both wasted.”
“Where did you pick them up?”
“The roadside park on Route 6, right out in the open.” He shook his head.
The small park was just out Tidewater’s city limits, barely a mile from the high school. Rachel frowned. “Where do you think they got it?”
“Tidewater High, without a doubt.”
“How do you know? Did Jerry say that?”
“No, he wouldn’t name anybody, but he didn’t have to. We’ve been alerted to a new source there, except that we were told it was high-grade homegrown marijuana. Jake is going to be hot when he finds out there’s other stuff, and a lot worse.”
“What do you think they were taking?” Rachel asked, her head whirling with new insight into Jake’s world.
“I think Regina got hold of some angel dust.” Ed shrugged. “But I’m no expert.”
He looked up as Leon White appeared from the vicinity of the treatment room where Regina had been taken. “Hey, Leon. What’s the scoop, man?”
Leon rubbed a huge hand over his short curly hair and replaced his cap. “She’ll be okay. This time.”
“What was it? Did they say?”
“Angel dust.” Leon took out a cigarette pack but crumpled it in disgust when he found it empty.
Wondering what she’d gotten herself into, Rachel walked with them to the door and watched them climb into their vehicle. If she hadn’t misread the expression on Leon White’s face, he was truly concerned about Regina. And so was Ed Sims. Both were seasoned men who dealt with this kind of thing often, and in spite of the personal toll it must take, they managed to carry on. Ron Campbell had warned her when they first talked about this job, but his words had sailed over her head. This was not going to be like serving coffee to the families of surgical patients or passing out mail to new mothers. Before her doubts had a chance to defeat her, an ambulance pulled up at the entrance.
“Heart attack!” someone yelled.
She was too busy the rest of the day to think about failure.
CHAPTER SIX
“YOU LIKE THAT STUFF a lot, don’t you?” Michael wrinkled his nose watching Rachel selecting snow peas from a display of Oriental foods. It had been a little over three weeks since he’d moved in with his dad and stepmother, and he’d eaten a wider variety of food than ever before in his life. Some of it was great, but some of it wasn’t too good. Like those salads she made with little sprouts and things that tasted like grass.
“I like fresh vegetables, yes.” Rachel dropped two eggplants into a plastic bag. “It’s never too early to start watching your cholesterol.”
“Does Dad?”
Rachel tossed a bag of spinach into the cart. “He doesn’t. I do.”
“Oh. Okay.” If she was into this cholesterol-watching business, then Jake would no doubt go along with it whether he liked it or not. It hadn’t taken Michael more than a day in their house to see that his dad was crazy about Miss Rachel and that he’d do almost anything to keep her happy.
He studied her as she turned to select bananas. She wasn’t happy. Even a stranger could see that. He hoped it wasn’t because of him. He knew that alone was enough to cause a lot of trouble in a marriage, and he still hoped everything would work out, but he sensed there was more. It was probably their little boy, Scotty. Miss Rachel’s heart was broken over that. And his dad felt awful because he hadn’t found him.
He gazed beyond Rachel through the wide windows, where bright June sunshine cast a sheen over everything. He’d been asking around at school to see what he could learn about what happened to Scotty. Everybody in town knew all about it. Flyers had been put out. Television and newspapers and radio had been full of it. Volunteers had searched the whole state, just about. Still, nothing had turned up. No clues. Nothing. Michael picked up an apple and idly rubbed the smooth surface with his thumb. Wouldn’t it be neat if he could somehow figure out what happened?
“Rachel McAdam! Where have you been keeping yourself?”
As she looked up, Rachel stiffened. Joan Gonzales, wife of the city police chief and the most notorious busybody in town, was heading her way from the vicinity of the store delicatessen. “Hello, Joan,” she said politely. “I’ve been keeping busy. How about you?”
“Oh, swamped as usual. Just swamped.” Her gaze went from Rachel to Michael. As Rachel watched, the woman’s eyes narrowed with undisguised interest. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” She looked at Rachel.
Rachel wasn’t fooled. She saw the malice behind the saccharine smile. Joan’s husband was planning to run for sheriff. For obvious reasons, the Gonzaleses would be extremely interested in knowing that an illegitimate son had suddenly appeared in Jake’s heretofore exemplary life. What was she going to say? She looked into Michael’s face and saw with a shock that he understood her dilemma. There was no expression on his face, but he was tense, waiting.
Waiting to be denied. Or rejected.
Her chin went up a notch. “This is Michael,” she told Joan Gonzales. “Jake’s son. He has been living with his mother’s family in Iowa, but from now on he will be living with us here in Tidewater. Michael, this is Joan Gonzales. Her husband is the chief of police here in town.” Let Joan make of that what she would, Rachel thought, feeling a compelling urge to move closer to Michael.
Michael put out his hand.
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
“Jake’s son. My, my.” Joan lifted her eyebrows in malicious surprise. “I didn’t know he had a son. Iowa, you say….” Realizing Michael’s hand was still outstretched, she took it and gave it a brief shake.
Rachel rushed into speech. “I’ve been meaning to give you a call, Joan. I wondered if you would be interested in taking my place on the board at the country club. I have a job now and I’m going to have to drop a few things.”
“Well, I—” Joan’s eyes left Michael reluctantly. “The board? At the club?”
Knowing that the woman would kill to have her place on the board, Rachel gave her a bright, false smile. “I’ve just started working at the hospital in the emergency room. It’s fascinating, but it does take a lot of the time I used to devote to other things.” She was chattering, she knew, intent on preventing the woman from prying and consequently hurting Michael.
“I never thought of you as a career person,” Joan said.
“Oh, really?”
“Is it full-time?”
“Seven to three.”
“Gracious! That is a real job.” Joan shuddered. “Such early hours, too.”
“Yes. But I love it.” Rachel grabbed a couple of large pears. Michael held out a plastic bag and she dropped them in. “Thanks, Mike.”
“How will you manage the campaign and a new career?”
“I don’t think I’ll have any trouble.” Busy body. Rachel handed Michael a bunch of grapes to bag.
“Well, I know J.B. would have a fit if I were to do something like that right before the campaign starts.” Joan lifted a sly eyebrow. “Speaking of which, how did Jake react?”
“He’s very supportive.”
“Uh-huh. Well, lots of luck.” She looked again at Michael, her expression alive with speculation.
“I’ll mention your name to the board committee at the club,” Rachel put in quickly.
“Hmm? Oh, yes. Thanks, Rachel.”
“We’d better run, Michael.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Joan smiled with a show of perfect teeth. “Welcome to Tidewater, Michael.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Neither Michael nor Rachel moved for a moment as Joan wheeled out of the produce department.
“Her cart’s empty,” Michael remarked.
Rachel grimaced, then tossed back a head of cabbage she didn’t remember taking. “She wasn’t in this section for fruits and vegetables.”
“I guessed that.”
Rachel looked at him and found understanding in his eyes. She sighed. “I suppose we might as well get used to it, Michael. Jake’s a public figure and the election’s coming up in November. Things may get sticky.”
“I can take it if you can, Miss Rachel.”
“In that case, we’ll both be fine.”
Her voice was confident, but inside she wasn’t convinced. Joan Gonzales and her malicious looks were only the beginning. When Jake began making the public appearances that were so necessary during the campaign, she wasn’t certain she would be able to handle it at all.
JAKE HANDED RACHEL a glass of wine before settling himself into the patio chair beside her. Most of the evening, she’d been deep in thought. The underwater lights in the pool cast a soft blue-tinted glow over her features. The truth was, Rachel had been quiet every night since Scotty had disappeared. With Michael around to complicate things even more, Jake wasn’t sure what constituted a normal evening at home. And yet this evening he’d sensed something further.
It wasn’t Michael, he decided. In fact, Rachel and Michael seemed to have hit it off remarkably well, for which Jake gave heartfelt thanks. Rachel’s hours at the hospital just happened to coincide with Michael’s school hours. He rode in with her in the mornings and she picked him up in the afternoons. It was an arrangement she had suggested. Jake, ever alert to ways to cement the relationship between the three of them, had been elated. Ever since the boy’s arrival, Jake had been holding his breath, hoping and praying that Rachel would stay long enough to learn to like him. Now he wanted more than that. He wanted Rachel to love Michael as he did.
He wished other things would work out, as well. He and Rachel still slept apart. He missed her, missed having her close in the night. Over the years, they might have had other problems in their marriage, but they’d never slept apart before. Her presence grounded him, made his love for her seem like a tangible thing. Until lately, he had been confident that Rachel felt the same. Now he wondered. Could she just turn her feelings off at will? Was that her idea of love? Had she ever really loved him?
He leaned back so that he was slightly behind her, watching her. “Something on your mind tonight?” he asked.
She was still for a second before shifting in the chair and crossing her legs. “No, not really.”
“How’s the job?”
“Busy, interesting, hectic.”
He studied her, frowning. Two of his men, Ed Sims and Leon White, had rushed a pair of drugged kids to Emergency the very first day she’d been on the job. He hated for Rachel to be exposed to that kind of thing. “You don’t have to stay with it, Rachel. You can—”
“I like it, Jake.”
Jake didn’t want to argue, but he couldn’t just drop it there. “You always hated it when things got hectic here at home. How can you like it at work?”
“I don’t know. It’s just different at work. Challenging.”
“You see some bad stuff in Emergency,” he said, disapproval making him sound gruff.
“I realized that within the first hour.” She scooted her chair back a little to face him. “Jake, how is it that I’m married to the sheriff in this county and yet I feel as though I’ve been living in a dreamworld? I read the papers. I know we have a drug problem, every place does. I know about teenage pregnancy and homelessness and alcoholism. But my grasp of these problems was so superficial. Every day I go into the hospital and see these things firsthand, I wonder where in the world have I been? Would I have been willing to stick my head in the sand and pretend everything’s lovely forever?”
“Just because you weren’t on speaking terms with all the crime in the county or didn’t associate with the dregs of humanity doesn’t mean you’re a failure as a human being.”
“You’re missing my point,” she said impatiently. “I just feel that somehow I could have been more involved, especially since I’m the wife of the sheriff.”
He got up and went to the edge of the pool, his back to her. “It’s because I see so much of it that I want to shield my family.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be shielded anymore.”
Jake’s heart started to beat faster. Was she going to walk out now? Is that what she’d been brooding over all evening? His next words were forced. “What do you want, Rachel?”
She stood and walked over to a bright pink bougainvillea. “I’m not sure. I’m still confused and upset over…things.”
Holding his breath, Jake pressed a palm against the back of his neck. “Things” meant his infidelity and Michael and, maybe worst of all, his failure to find Scotty.
“Right now I’m just taking each day as it comes,” Rachel murmured. “My job helps. At least I’m doing something constructive.”
He relaxed a little. For one heart-stopping moment, he’d braced himself to hear her ask for a divorce. He felt like a prisoner handed an eleventh-hour reprieve. He didn’t know how much longer he could go on like this! He needed something from her, just some small sign that there was still some love left in her heart for him.
The distance of the patio separated them, but he turned, wanting to pull her into his arms and show her in the most basic way how much he loved her, needed her. He was taking the first step when she looked up, meeting his eyes.
“Jake…”
He stopped. “What?”
“Do you… Have you heard…”
Scotty. If only he could give her the answer she craved. He was glad it was dar
k and she couldn’t see the despair in his eyes. The failure. “No, nothing. I have feelers out everywhere, Rachel. My contacts are all alerted. His picture has been released nationwide. The—” He stopped. Excuses. Even to his own ears, it sounded like excuses.
She looked away. “It’s… I was just hoping…” She crossed her arms over her middle, shaking her head. He heard her draw in a quick breath, then somehow she dredged up a weak smile. “The campaign will probably start to heat up within a month or so.”
It was a second before Jake could reply. “Yeah.”
“How is Liz working out?”
“Super. She’s doing a fabulous job.”
Thank God for Liz, his campaign manager. Rachel’s oldest sister was a lawyer with a feel for politics. She’d been very active in his last successful campaign and was throwing herself into this election with even more enthusiasm. Michael’s sudden appearance in his life could have spelled political disaster, but Liz was determined to make the voters love the teenager as much as Jake did. Being family was a decided advantage in a campaign manager.
“Are you ready?”
“I’ve neglected it, what with everything else that’s happened. Unfortunately, I can’t have the job if I don’t campaign for it.”
Rachel said nothing. With her face in shadow, he couldn’t tell what she was thinking, either. He tossed the ice from his drink into the pool. “The chamber is having a kick-off rally next Saturday night. Meet the candidate. You know the kind of thing.”
“Already?” She didn’t bother to hide her dismay.
“We need to be there.”
She snapped off a pink bloom. “I don’t think so, Jake.”
“Rachel—”
“No. I’m not going. I can’t.”
“Is it Michael?”
She stared at him. “What do you think it is? Of course, it’s Michael! Everybody’s talking about it, Jake. How do you think that makes me feel?”
“I know it’s hard for you. I—”
“You know?” Jake heard the skepticism in her voice. “Then tell me, has anybody got up the nerve to ask you about it to your face?”