by Karen Young
Michael nodded, walking along with his eyes on his feet.
“You say you know James?”
“I don’t know him. I just recognize him from school. Anybody would.”
“Recognize him, you mean?” When Mike nodded, he went on. “Big name on campus, hmm?”
Mike shrugged. “He’s got a hot car and there’re always a bunch of people hanging around him.”
“Girls, too?”
“Yeah. Yes, sir. Mostly girls.”
Jake looked at him, amusement in his eyes. “Amazing what a hot car can do.”
“I guess.” Michael turned and stared thoughtfully at the swinging doors. “But he didn’t look too cool wearing those handcuffs and kinda green around the gills like he was ready to barf all over everything, did he?”
Jake laughed. “No, son, he sure didn’t.” And simply because he couldn’t resist, he clamped an arm around Mike’s neck and ruffled his kid’s hair. Mike probably thought he was too old for hugging, but if he was going to say things that made his old man proud of him, he’d just have to take it.
“DON’T YOU EVER take a day off, Jake?”
Jake looked up and accepted the cup of coffee Jacky Kendall pushed across his desk. Kinard County’s petite juvenile officer looked a lot like a juvenile herself in her jeans and T-shirt. Her short red hair was a curly mop that defied any attempts to tame it. Her appearance was deceptive. When the occasion demanded it—and with juveniles, it often did—Jacky could be tough as old boots.
“Thanks.” Jake tasted the coffee, then made a face when he realized it was from the pot he’d made when he arrived more than three hours ago. “Am I the only one who knows how to make coffee around here?” he grumbled.
She sat down, curling one of her legs beneath her. “No, you’re just the only one who makes it on Sunday.”
He grunted, drinking it anyway.
“Here’s an idea. Since Michael seems to accompany you every Sunday, maybe he’d be willing to take the coffee detail.”
Smiling faintly, Jake looked at Michael in the outer office. He was standing over the fax machine waiting for a photo transmission on a suspect. “I wouldn’t count on it. First I’d have to pry him away from the front desk.”
Jacky grinned. “I noticed. He monitors every call. If I ever saw a rookie in the making, Michael’s it.”
“You think so?” Jake said, his eyes still resting fondly on Michael. He felt a rush of fatherly pride.
“I think so,” Jacky said, smiling. “He certainly has a super role model. Which is more than I can say for most of the kids I see.”
“You here about the Moody kid?”
“James. Yeah. His father’s Jay Moody. I just had the pleasure of a twenty-minute interview.”
“The Reverend Jay Moody.” Jake leaned back deep in his chair. “I didn’t make the connection. How’d he take it?”
“Not well. If James hadn’t been barfing up his socks in the toilet, I wonder if I could have convinced him.”
Jake looked confounded. “Isn’t a preacher’s kid supposed to be at church on Sunday morning?”
“That’s where his dad thought he was,” she returned dryly. “After he’d cooled down, the reverend admitted James has been cutting Sunday school frequently. They had words over it even though James was sick as a dog.”
“They say it’s tough being a preacher’s kid.”
“It’s tough being any kind of kid these days,” Jacky countered. “But it’s still no excuse to get high and then try to drive.”
“What did he take?”
“I’m not certain. Dempsey found a couple of capsules in his car. Designer stuff. More than likely that’s what brought on the nausea.”
Jake got suddenly to his feet. “Where are they getting this stuff! Did you talk to him?”
Jacky shook her head. “It wouldn’t have done any good, Jake. Not the shape he was in. He’s at Tidewater General right now. We’ll handle it as soon as he’s able.” She stood up. “We might get some repercussions from this. The reverend didn’t pull any punches. He claimed it was our responsibility to see that the kids didn’t have access to this stuff. He sent you a message.”
Jake held her gaze, waiting.
“He said he wasn’t going to hesitate to use his pulpit to let people know that unless they see some progress being made to apprehend the people who are dumping this stuff in our town, then maybe we need a new sheriff.”
“I WANT TO TALK TO YOU, Michael.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Here it comes. Michael hitched his gym bag closer to his middle and gave Rachel a quick, wary look. He would probably have the granddaddy of all stomachaches before this ride was over.
He kept his eyes glued straight ahead, nothing on his face giving away his thoughts. As they pulled away from the school, a couple of the guys he’d made friends with waved, but he didn’t notice. He’d worried for two days over what he’d overheard Jake and Rachel fighting about, but he hadn’t been able to come up with what they might do about it. Only thing he could figure would be to farm him out with a foster family, but somehow he didn’t see Jake doing that. Miss Rachel, now… She was one tough lady. She just might be that fed up with him. Truth was, he hadn’t realized how much of a pain he was to her until he’d overheard her words on Saturday night.
He realized he’d missed some of what she was saying. He pulled himself up to listen.
“…and sometimes even adults get carried away and say things they don’t mean.”
It was pretty stupid of him not to catch on before now, he decided, staring at a red light. These people really didn’t have much reason for wanting him dumped on them. Especially Miss Rachel. Even a dweeb would have caught on before now. The only excuse he had was that he’d been so blinded by the idea of having a real mom and dad. And so dazzled by all the things these people had.
“Michael? Are you listening?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Traffic was always heavy when school got out. Rachel kept her eyes on the road. “I thought if you were willing, we’d both just start all over,” she said. “Sort of wipe the slate clean and begin again.”
“Huh?” He couldn’t believe it. Was he going to get to stay?
She gave him a quick look. “I was saying that I regret what you overheard on Saturday night. The argument Jake and I were having wasn’t really about you, Michael.”
“You said it was.”
“I know. I’m sorry I said that. I’ve had some time to think it over, and I was wrong. I’m angry with Jake. And hurt. You can understand that, can’t you? I’m hurt because he turned to another woman, your mother, when we…he and I were going through a rocky time in our marriage.”
“Are you going to get a divorce?”
She drew in a quick breath. “That’s between Jake and me, Michael. It really doesn’t concern you.”
Michael wondered if she really believed that. If she walked out on Jake, it would be the end of their happy home. It would be the end of his hopes and dreams. Would Jake still care about him if he caused Miss Rachel to walk out?
“Michael?” She stopped at the last red light before their street and looked at him. “Do you think we could begin again? Put the words you overheard behind us and work on being friends again?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, relaxing his hold on his gym bag, and managed a smile. No disaster had happened today. If she wanted to be friends, he guessed he’d have to settle for that. She’d probably freak out if he told her what he really wanted. They pulled into the driveway and he let his gaze linger on the house. He let out a soft sigh. What he really wanted more than almost anything was for Miss Rachel to be his mother.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ON MONDAY MORNING, Jake had a message waiting for him from Rick Streeter with the DEA in Miami. According to Rick, the rumblings of a major drug connection along the Gulf Coast had materialized into solid evidence. A task force out of Miami was heading for Tidewater, and Jake’s depart
ment, as well as the city police department, would be expected to cooperate.
“This is all we need,” Frank Cordoba grumbled, scanning the notes Jake had taken while listening to Rick. “The county’ll be crawling with Feds. If they’d pass this information on to us, we could work up some kind of plan. We know our own territory, they don’t.”
“We both know that’s not the way they do business,” Jake said, settling into his chair after helping himself to coffee.
“Yeah, well, if the plan should happen to come together successfully, you can bet they’ll take the credit. Us local types will be tossed a token word of thanks, no matter how significant a part we play. You know the drill, Jake. Hell, you used to be one of those guys.”
Jake laughed ruefully. “Don’t remind me.” He gazed thoughtfully beyond Frank to a wall map of the entire county. After a moment, he said, “We’re not without a few options ourselves.”
Frank looked interested. “Such as?”
“Look here.” Jake got up and went to the map. “We know the drugs are getting into the county somehow. So far, they’ve surfaced mostly in the hands of juveniles…here—” he touched the site of Tidewater High School “—and here—” the middle school “—and here.” The Burger Barn, popular hangout for teens. “Why is that, Frank? Why haven’t we had more incidents with the adult population? Is that just a fluke or is there a reason?” He tossed a folder aside. “I’m assigning a couple of men to keep close watch at the high school and middle school. Call Jacky. Tell her I personally want to question every kid who comes to her if she suspects a drug connection.”
He went to his desk. “What about the preacher’s kid—Moody?”
“We tried, but I don’t think we’re going to get anything from James. He got his stuff from a friend of a friend of a friend. By the time we ran through all his friends there was so much hearsay we couldn’t be sure if we were getting truth or fiction. The kids might have been stonewalling, but I don’t think so. Whoever’s dealing doesn’t seem to have much organization.”
“Organization or not, he’s still putting dangerous stuff in the hands of kids.”
Frank finished his coffee. “I hear you.”
“If I read Brother Moody right yesterday, we aren’t going to get much cooperation there. He’s focusing more on calling attention to the shortcomings of my office than he is on helping us.”
“Way I see it, there’s an up side to that,” Frank drawled, getting to his feet.
“Yeah? I’d be interested to hear it.”
“Simple. There’re two law-enforcement agencies in Tidewater: city and county. As the sheriff, you have to take the heat for the county. But there’s a lot more drug trafficking inside the city limits, and that responsibility rests squarely on your challenger’s shoulders. So, as much as J. B. Gonzales would like to dump this all on you, Jake, he’s not gonna be able to weasel out of it.”
After Frank left, Jake stared hard at the map of Kinard County, filled with frustration and tension. It wasn’t just the job or his reelection, it wasn’t even the creeping influx of drugs into his territory that threatened to defeat him. What ate at him went deeper than that. He could handle the mounting problems in Kinard County a lot better if things were right in his family. If he didn’t find Scotty, would he lose Rachel, too?
The ding of a microwave sounded somewhere in the building, followed immediately by the smell of food. It was lunchtime. Although he wasn’t particularly hungry, he needed to get out of the office.
In the act of locking away the material on his desk, he glanced at the phone. What he’d really like would be to go home and have lunch with Rachel. That was what he’d really like. In fact… Just as he reached for the phone, it rang. Grabbing it, he barked his name into the receiver.
“Jake? You sound busy. Sorry. It’s Rachel.”
“No. I’m…” He sank into his chair and swiveled so that he could see outside. The frown on his face vanished. He could feel his frustration easing. “Hi, honey. I was just thinking about you.”
“Oh? Well, I hate to bother you th—”
“You never bother me, Rachel. I always have time for my wife.”
“This won’t take long. I—”
“How’s it going this morning at Tidewater General? Got your finger on the pulse of things?”
“Jake—”
He chuckled. “A little medical humor there, darlin’.” He squinted through the window, trying to tell whether it was drizzling rain or just dingy panes. “Have you had lunch yet?”
“No, but—”
“How about having it with me? We could try Santini’s. We haven’t been there in a long time.”
“I don’t think so, Jake.”
“Campbell does give you time to eat, doesn’t he?” Jake turned away from the view. The frown was back. “Jake…”
He heard the exasperation in her voice and cursed himself. Bad-mouthing Campbell was hardly the way to talk her into going anywhere with him. He swallowed the jealousy that made his fingers tighten on the phone and spoke softly. “Sorry, honey. I’m having a downer of a day. However, daydreaming about my beautiful wife keeps me up.”
There was a moment’s silence, then she chuckled.
Jake closed his eyes, savoring the sound of Rachel’s laugh. Idly, he polished his wedding ring along the top of his thigh. “If you can’t have lunch with me, then what can I do for you?”
“Michael just called from school. They’re out early and he forgot to tell me this morning. I can’t get away right now to pick him up, and I thought maybe you could send over a squad car or something. That is, if you can’t pick him up yourself.”
“No problem.” He stood up. “I won’t have to eat alone after all. We’ll grab something at the Burger Barn and then I’ll drop him off at the house.”
“Thanks. Tell him I’ll be home around three-thirty, as usual.”
“Got it.”
“Well…bye.”
He kissed her through the wire. “Bye, sweetheart.”
RACHEL REPLACED the receiver, feeling shaky and oddly flustered. She had always reacted to Jake’s voice. When he used that deep, quiet tone, it was like a caress.
“Hey, pretty lady.”
“Ron! Ah, hello.”
Ron gave her a smile that hinted of a familiarity between them that made Rachel slightly wary. He swept a look over her neat desk and tidy work area. “Hmm. It looks as though you have things under control here.”
“Don’t judge my efficiency by the way things look. You should see my In basket.”
He moved around so he stood at her shoulder, crowding her into the L of her work area. “Where is it?”
“Hidden,” she said. “I keep it in this drawer.” She pulled at a drawer that was blocked by his body so that he had to shift away from her.
“I’m sure you’ll handle it with your usual aplomb.” With that, he relaxed against the edge of her desk, crossing his ankles. “Helen Falco can’t say enough about the way you’ve settled in here.”
“Oh. That’s nice to hear.” She laughed ruefully. “There were a few times when I wondered if I should have remained a volunteer.”
“Don’t even think it.” He reached over and patted her hand. “It was our lucky day when you decided to take a real job.” He stood up briskly. “So, have you had lunch yet?”
“No. I’d planned to work through my lunch hour. I really am swamped, Ron. I brought some yogurt and an apple. I can manage on that.”
“We’ll just be in the cafeteria. A quick tray won’t take much longer.” He lifted one eyebrow. “All work and no play…as they say.”
“I shouldn’t…” She looked at the stack of insurance forms.
“Actually, you could consider it a working lunch,” he said, catching her by the elbow and gently pulling her to her feet. “There’s something I wanted to discuss with you.”
She reached for her purse. “Well, I suppose a few minutes won’t make much difference.”
; “Hardly.” His hand remained at her waist even after they reached the elevator. Feeling decidedly uncomfortable, Rachel stared hard at the call button. Finally, using it as an excuse to free herself, she took a step away from Ron and jiggled it.
“This thing is so slow sometimes.”
“You look delicious in that pink outfit.”
Delicious? Rachel felt the blush that rose from her neck. Her heart began to pound with a sense of danger, but while she was trying to decide what to do, there was a ping overhead and the elevator door slid open. With his hand once more at the small of her back, Ron ushered her inside.
The cafeteria was packed with the usual lunch-hour crowd. Rachel selected a salad and a hard roll, and after a small skirmish with Ron over who would pay—which he won—she followed him through the tables to the single remaining booth.
“What was it you wanted to discuss, Ron?” she asked as soon as they were seated.
He leaned back, studying her silently for so long that she felt heat bloom in her cheeks again. What was he doing? Suddenly Jake’s suspicions didn’t seem so farfetched. Her hands not quite steady, she broke the crusty roll in half. Crumbs flew everywhere—into her salad, onto the table, into her lap.
“Look at me,” she murmured, brushing at them clumsily. Was this the way affairs began? If so, she would never manage to have one. She was just too…too…
“I am looking and I like what I see.”
Her gaze flew to his. “Ron, I don’t think—”
He reached for her hand. “Am I going too fast?” He squeezed her fingers. “Okay. No problem.” He reached for his napkin and spread it on his lap. “So, on to business. How do you feel about coming to work as my assistant?”
She looked at him in amazement.
He grinned. “What?”
“I’m just…surprised.”
“What’s so surprising about my wanting to grab you before somebody else does? You’re wasted in Emergency. You’ve organized the paperwork, reduced the drag time between insurance claims dramatically, charmed the housekeeping people into making the place neater and cleaner than it’s ever been and acted as resident psychologist for the freaked-out cases who wander in from the streets. Call me selfish, but when I see someone with that kind of talent, I want that person at work where the hospital benefits most.”