by Jory Strong
Shane leaned over, touched his mouth to her cheek. “We’ve got your back.”
She turned, met his lips and pulled strength from the kiss. Whispering against that sensuous mouth afterward, “Let’s do this then.”
She got out of the Jeep, eyes meeting Tyler’s.
He pulled her in for a hug, brushed a kiss against her hair and said in a low voice, “Don’t get your hopes up, Madison.”
His concern created a burst of warmth in her chest. “I won’t.”
Could she even label what she felt as hope?
His lips touched her ear. “We stick together for this one.”
“Agreed,” Shane said.
A kiss and Tyler released her.
She said, “Let’s hit apartment twenty-one since he made a point of using that number when he talked about cantaloupe fields.”
They climbed to the second floor. In front of the apartment, Madison’s heart pounded even harder than it had at reading the latest clue.
It was hard not to think about the picture of Bio-mom holding her, both of them smiling.
Tyler’s hand cupped her neck. Shane’s settled at the base of her spine.
She dug her nails into her palms, lifted a fisted hand.
Don’t get your hopes up.
Knock.
Don’t get your hopes up.
Knock.
Don’t get your hopes up.
Knock.
When no one answered, the depth of the letdown revealed just how much she had hoped.
Tyler pulled a business card from his wallet and fished out a stubby pencil to scrawl a message requesting a call.
He wedged it between door and jamb.
Shane said, “Might as well start going door-to-door since we’re here. Could learn something useful.”
The first and second floors were a bust. Either no one answered, or those who did come to the door claimed not to recognize Bio-mom, either then or now.
“It’s still possible we’re in the wrong place,” Shane said after an elderly woman on the third floor said the same thing everyone else had.
Madison heard a phone ring twice three doors down. Tyler said, “We’re almost done. We can rethink it in the Jeep.”
No one answered at the next apartment. Or the next.
They stopped in front of a door with wooden planters on either side of it, each one holding plants heavily laden with cherry tomatoes.
The curtains in the window above the box to the right moved slightly.
Madison knocked on the door.
A stooped old man opened it and said, “Let me see the picture you’ve been showing around.”
Surprise skittered through her, until she remembered hearing a phone ring after talking to the elderly lady three doors down.
She held out the photograph.
He took it from her, his lips pursing, his gaze going from the picture to her face, then back again several times.
“So she gave you up for adoption. Probably shouldn’t be surprised but I am.”
Madison jolted and felt its echo in Shane and Tyler. “You knew her?”
“Enough to say hello if we passed coming or going. Thought she was doing a good job taking care of you on her own despite looking too young to be saddled with a baby.”
“What was her name?”
The old man frowned and handed the photograph to her. “If you don’t know it, it’s not my business to tell you.”
He stepped backward.
She stepped forward.
“Please. The name on the adoption paperwork is Suzanne Turner.”
His frown deepened. “That wasn’t it.”
He looked at the planter to his right. Reached out and prodded a bright red cherry tomato with a gnarled forefinger, then plucked it, picking a second and a third.
“Desiree Owens. That was her name. She moved in when you were about the age shown in that picture. Wasn’t here but two or three months before she was gone. Thought maybe she wanted to make a break from some of the kids I saw her with from time to time. Hoped that was true when her friend came around, asking after her, but… It worried me some when the girl said she might file a missing persons report.”
Madison’s mouth went completely dry.
Tyler asked, “What was the friend’s name?”
“Tanya something. Give me a minute and it’ll come.”
“What apartment did we live in?”
He looked down and to the left. “Twenty-one, beneath mine and over two.”
Had Bio-dad found Bio-mom and paid her off? Is that what she was supposed to learn here? Part two of the big revelation?
“Did you actually see her move out?” Shane asked.
“No. About that time I went into the hospital, had surgery on my gallbladder.”
Madison asked, “Do you know if she worked anywhere?”
The old man shook his head. “Don’t know for sure but don’t think so. She was usually hauling you whenever she left, and most of the time she was getting in someone else’s car. Didn’t seem like she was heading off to work. The other girl that came around was Tanya Meadows. That was her name. Knew it’d come to me.”
“Any idea where we could find Tanya?” Shane asked.
“No.”
He followed up with, “What’d she look like?”
The old man’s eyebrows lifted. “Way back then? Green hair one day. Pink the next. Black the following week. Red. No way of knowing what color it really was, and didn’t care. She was a scrawny thing, though. If she turned sideways she nearly disappeared.”
“Is there anyone that still lives here who might know more?” Shane asked.
“Can’t think of a soul. This place sees a lot of turn-over.”
“Who lives in the apartment now?” Madison asked.
“Another young girl with a baby. A Mexican.”
Shane handed the old man one of his cards. She said, “I should have asked your name.”
“Ryan Bergdorf.” His frown turned into a smile. “Can’t be sure, but I think Mary is what she used to call you.”
“It was probably Maddie. I go by Madison now.”
His gaze softened. “Good luck. I don’t know whether to hope you find her or not.”
“One last question,” Shane asked. “Who manages these apartments?”
“Tullis and Sons. They’re in the phone book. I mail my checks to an address on Orangevale.”
Madison reached out, touched the old man’s arm. “Thanks for your help. Please call if you think of anything else.”
He nodded and disappeared into his apartment.
In the Jeep, she said, “What do you guys think?”
Shane snagged her hand.
Tyler leaned forward from the backseat and cupped her shoulder, his hand warm against her skin. “Chances are good he paid her off to put you up for adoption. Pull out the clue.”
She did, putting it on the console between her seat and Shane’s.
Tyler’s thumb rubbed her shoulder. “Discoveries made as the past unfolds into the future. I think he’s talking about you here. Maybe he didn’t actually know you existed until this point in his life. It doesn’t really matter. But I’m guessing he’s clean and this is where he’s making amends to the people he’s wronged.”
“Or cleaning up his mess,” Shane said, immediately grimacing and squeezing her hand. “Sorry.”
She squeezed back. “No offense taken. Either way, it fits with a turning point fully embraced so unwanted destiny becomes welcome yoke, the first true steps toward it taken among cantaloupe fields that stretched for twenty-one miles. Pretty much all along we’ve thought he had to know where I was, or how to find me. If you look at it from his point of view, sending me on a quest, with guilt money offered up along the way, is a lot easier than telling me this in person.”
“Makes me wonder if at the end he’ll give you the choice of whether to meet him or not,” Tyler said.
“Nah,” Shane said. “He’s gone to t
oo much trouble. I can’t see him leaving it up to Madison.”
Shane’s gaze went to apartment twenty-one. His fingers twitched against hers.
Madison smiled. “You are not breaking and entering.”
He grinned, totally unrepentant. “It’s not like I haven’t done it before.”
Tyler muttered, “Many times.”
“We’re assuming he left something for me there.”
It was a pretty safe bet.
“But it’s also possible he doesn’t know where Bio-mom is and wants us to find her. Maybe that’s why he arranged for Crime Tells to be involved.”
More likely, this was her rationalizing, using Bio-dad as an excuse to dig a little deeper.
The look both guys sent her said that’s what they thought.
“Maddie,” Tyler said, soft voice trailing off, the use of the nickname along with the help me out here, I don’t want her hurt look he sent Shane, turned her heart into mush.
“I want to dig a little deeper,” she said, owning it. “We’re sitting here. We may be sitting here for hours if we’re going to wait for the girl in twenty-one to come home. I’m going to Google Bio-mom.”
Shane pulled his hand from hers. “I’ll take the friend.”
Tyler sighed. “That leaves me to work my magic on Tullis and Sons.”
He had an answer a few minutes later.
“Without a warrant, they’re not going to cooperate.”
Madison stopped scrolling through the links generated by the name Desiree Owens. “Most of what I’m finding leads to sites that require payment.”
Shane lowered his phone. “You’re better off waiting until we have more to go on than a name and a very short-term address where she lived twenty-one years ago.”
“Either of you have contacts in the Modesto police department? Maybe Tanya did file a missing persons report. That could give us a little more information.”
“Easy enough to check that out in person,” Shane said.
“Applying the same kind of charm you used at Oakhurst Prep?”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
His grin carried her thoughts to the library and his attempt to get into her pants.
“Maybe we’ll let Tyler apply his charm this time. Or me.”
Shane shook his head. “You know you’re bad for my ego, right?”
Tyler snorted. “As if anything could actually dent it.”
Shane half-turned, slapping a hand to his own chest. “Et tu, Brute?”
Madison snickered. “And that’s probably the only thing the big head retains from high school.”
“Ah man, ganging up on me. No fair.”
“Didn’t someone tell me, all’s fair?”
He grinned. “I have vague recollections.”
She reached over, tweaked the nipple ring.
“Stronger recollections,” he said, heat in his eyes and voice.
He used his cell to find the location of the nearest police station. “Head there?”
Tyler glanced at apartment twenty-one. “Might as well. If Bio-dad left something, we’ll get a call. And the longer we sit here, the more you’re going to be tempted to break-in.”
Shane wriggled his fingers. “True.”
He started the Jeep.
Madison watched Cantaloupe Springs Apartments disappear in the side view mirror. But what she saw was the picture of Bio-mom holding her, both of them smiling, their cheeks rosy, their blonde hair windswept. What she heard was Mr. Bergdorf saying, So she gave you up for adoption. Probably shouldn’t be surprised but I am.
At the police station a thin cop with a heavily freckled face referred them to an Officer Grimes.
She turned out to be a tall woman with steel-gray hair and a take-no-bullshit expression.
Shane gave her the sanitized version of looking for Bio-mom, one spun to imply that Crime Tells was working for Madison, and with no mention of the forged birth certificate.
Officer Grimes typed in the name Desiree Owens, shook her head. “Sorry, nothing. As far as I can tell, there was no missing persons report filed.”
“Is it possible that it didn’t make it into the computer system back then?” Madison asked. “Or was lost in an upgrade?”
Officer Grimes gave a small sigh, signaling she wished they’d accept there was nothing more to be gained by taking up her time, but she said, “Let me check one other place.”
She disappeared through a doorway. Tyler captured Madison’s hand, his fingers entwining with hers so it felt as if comfort pulsed into her with every heartbeat.
Shane pulled out his phone and took a picture of the photograph lying on the counter. “I’m going to check something. No point in being related to cops if you can’t use it to your advantage.”
Madison heard the sound of a text message going out. Then a few minutes later, as Officer Grimes returned, the ping of a message coming in.
Madison’s hand tightened on Tyler’s with Officer Grimes’ sympathetic glance.
“I did find a sealed juvenile record under the name Desiree Owens. It’s possible your biological mother gave you up for adoption and went back to hanging out with a bad crowd. Look, based on what I’ve seen when it comes to these types of searches, you’d most likely be better off not finding her.”
Shane checked his message. “According to DMV records, Desiree Owens was issued a driver’s license in Modesto when she was eighteen but didn’t renew it.”
The cop’s mouth firmed, then relaxed. “Is there some reason you believe a report was filed? Do you suspect someone in particular of having filed it?”
“No,” Shane said, and Madison resisted the urge to look at him.
Officer Grimes gave another small, this-is-a-waste-of-time sigh. “She could have moved out of state. Or not. There could be a hundred other explanations. But leave me your phone numbers and I’ll at least ask Officer Merrick when he comes on duty. He might have been working Missing Persons back then. I seriously doubt that he’ll remember a specific case or give me cause to think files have disappeared, but I’ll ask.”
Shane and Tyler handed her their Crime Tells cards.
Officer Grimes flipped Shane’s over and wrote Madison’s cell number on the back.
Madison held off saying anything until they were in the Jeep and she was once again in the front passenger seat. “Any reason you didn’t want to give her Tanya’s name?”
Shane shrugged. “No advantage in sharing the intel.”
Tyler leaned forward. “Probably another long shot, but I assume you got the address that was on Bio-mom’s driver’s license.”
“Yeah. We can check it out.”
“What about a lead on Tanya Meadows?” Tyler asked.
“That’s going to take a little more digging. I’m thinking we check out the address on the driver’s license then swing by Cantaloupe Springs Apartments, just in case. But if your card is still in the door, and you two are still vetoing me using my mad skills to get inside, then we head to your place rather than do a stake-out.”
“Still vetoing,” Tyler said. “Madison?”
“Veto still in effect.”
Shane sighed. “You two are cramping my style.”
“No pain, no gain,” Madison said. “A little suffering is good for you.”
“Besides,” Tyler said, “the girls are probably wondering when I’m going to show up and feed them dinner.”
Shane laughed. “And you miss them.”
“What can I say? They’re not manly man kind of dogs, but I love them.”
Warmth flooded Madison’s heart. “It’s not like you actually need a manly man kind of dog as a symbol of your masculinity.”
Shane shook his head. “How come he gets the ego stroke?”
“Poor baby,” she said, placing her hand on his tight abs.
Shane’s breath caught. He shuddered beneath her palm and there was no stopping herself from tipping forward and touching her lips to his.
He moaned and sp
eared his fingers through her hair. Plunged his tongue into her mouth.
Her nipples beaded. Heat blasted through her stomach and slid into her sex.
She was acutely aware of Tyler, still leaning forward, close, but not nearly close enough.
The kiss she’d initiated merged into another, and another, as if both she and Shane were hoping that if they kept doing it, Tyler’s mouth and tongue would seek out theirs.
He retreated instead, arms along the backseat, his body in a relaxed slouch, though she didn’t miss the slight flush across his cheeks before he turned his head to look out the window and his hair shielded his face.
It made her imagine tugging an old-fashioned slot machine handle and having the spinning wheels come up cherry-cherry-cherry. Whether Tyler or Shane knew it or not, they were getting closer to coming out.
She moved her hand lower on Shane’s stomach, felt his hips lift as if to speed her palm to the bulge at the front of his jeans. She couldn’t help herself, “You were saying something about wanting your ego stroked?”
A black-and-white patrol unit turned onto the street and headed their way.
Shane’s laugh was mostly frustrated moan. “I think I’ll pass on getting cited for public indecency.”
“Probably a good thing since we’ve got places to go and things to do.”
She returned fully to her seat, taking her hand with her and biting down on her bottom lip to prevent herself from smiling as a plan started to form on how to deal with these two men who were rapidly becoming her personal addiction.
Shane used his cell to locate the street that’d been listed on Bio-mom’s driver’s license.
When they reached the stand-alone house with a pink Big Wheel in the front yard, Madison said, “I probably lived here with her right before she moved to Cantaloupe Springs Apartments.”
Shane cut the Jeep’s engine. “Pretty sure bet. She looked sixteen in the first picture, holding you as a baby. Plus two years and she’s eighteen. Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be. Which I seem to be saying a lot.”
He laughed, took her hand, swinging it wildly on the walk to the front door and making both her, and Tyler at her other side, smile.
Shane’s stab to the doorbell brought a Hispanic guy with a black spider web inked across the front of his neck. He heard them out, shook his head. “Bank foreclosed on this place maybe fifteen years ago. It was empty when my uncle bought it.”