Surrender to Love

by Adrianne Byrd

  Frankie shrugged. So the little princess missed ballet class. Big deal. Convinced that he’d learned all he could in the Kelleys’ home, he tried to think whether he had a contact down at the Department of Motor Vehicles. He needed to know whether the Kelleys owned another car.

  He scratched his head when he couldn’t quite dig up the buried info—but he knew he would eventually. And he would find the doctor as well; he had no doubt about that.

  Virginia Jacobson was a beautiful African-American woman whose smooth complexion gave her the appearance of a thirty-year-old, but her eyes told a different story, and Paul guessed her age to be in the mid-forties.

  She welcomed her colleagues into her office with a sweep of her hand. “Please come in.”

  Paul’s observant gaze swept over the immaculate office.

  “I’m glad you came by to see me this morning. I was kind of anxious to meet with you both to see how you’re coming along in the investigation.” Her intense gaze swung between them.

  “Actually, we’re working with very little,” Tony informed her in a tone of regret.

  She nodded slightly as she moved behind her desk. “Walt has already been by this morning questioning me about Newman. All I know is that he and Pittman went to check out a claim from an anonymous caller.” She reached for the blue folder on her desk and started rattling off information. “On May twenty-seventh we received a call from a woman who claimed to have information on a felon listed on our Most Wanted list. She’d seen his picture posted in a local postal office, but she wasn’t one hundred percent sure that it was the same guy. To make matters worse, she suspected the man was her ex-husband.”

  Paul frowned. “So what—Newman went to check this claim?”

  Virginia nodded. “We arranged for the woman to bring her husband to an open place so we could try to get a positive ID on him.

  “I was supposed to go with him, but I got called away on a family emergency, and Newman asked Pittman to go in my place. It was supposed to be a simple job. We go in, try to make an ID, then a possible arrest.”

  Tony and Paul exchanged puzzled looks.

  Virginia expelled a sigh of frustration. “I keep thinking that my partner might be alive if I had gone to that mall instead of Pittman. I mean, Walt’s a nice guy and all, and he usually works as a part of our team, but I was Rodney’s partner.”

  Paul nodded. “I think Walt is battling his own demons over what happened.”

  “I know,” she said. “But I can’t help the way I feel.”

  Paul wanted to say something encouraging. “We’ll get who’s behind all of this. Trust me.”

  Virginia met Paul’s steady gaze. A glimmer of sadness crept into her eyes, but her composure remained intact.

  “I want to help you guys on this. I know that, technically, it’s your case, but he was my partner—and my friend. Let me help.”

  Paul admired her loyalty. “We welcome your assistance.”

  When she smiled, Paul was not unaffected.

  Robin finished her breakfast, convinced that she’d never tasted pancakes as good as Ms. Lilly’s.

  Bobbi, meanwhile, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and jumped up from the table. “We’d better get going if we’re going to make it to the ballpark in time.”

  Robin got up.

  “And I’ll make sure I point out Stanley Forrester to you. You have to watch him. He thinks that girls have cooties or something.”

  “Ah, don’t let that worry you none,” Sheri Higginbotham drew her attention away from Carson long enough to comment. “Boys grow out of that nonsense soon enough. Isn’t that right, Carson?” She batted her eyes.

  Robin frowned. “Is there something in your eyes?”

  The adults snickered.

  Robin sensed that she had said something wrong and clamped her mouth shut.

  “Weren’t you two leaving?” Sheri snapped with her eyes flashing.

  Carson, still smiling, stood from the table. “I think I’ll come with you girls, I want to see my baby pitch.”

  “Dad, I’m not a baby,” Bobbi whined.

  “You’re my baby,” he said firmly, but his eyes twinkled.

  At that moment, Robin thought that Bobbi was the luckiest girl in the world. It was obvious her father cared a great deal about her. When was the last time her father had attended her dance recitals? Of course, David was her stepfather. She’d never known her real father. She’d only seen old pictures of him that were stuffed in her mother’s closet. His name was Kevin Henderson.

  Her mother never wanted to talk about him, but it hadn’t stopped Robin from wondering what her real father was like. One time she’d caught her mother crying while holding an old wedding picture, and Robin had the feeling that she missed him.

  So did Robin, if it was possible to miss someone you couldn’t remember.

  Of course, there was David.

  Robin hung her head guiltily. She’d never really cared for her stepfather, though he’d never actually done anything to her. But he’d always seemed to make her mother cry. When her mother told her of their divorce, it hadn’t come as much of a shock, as her mother had feared. In some ways it was more of a relief. Now Robin wondered if this sudden road trip had something to do with another one of David’s hateful threats. He was always making those; maybe this time he’d actually scared her mother. Maybe that was why her mother was acting so strangely.

  “You two ready?” Carson asked.

  Bobbi slapped a baseball cap on her head and beamed up at her father. “Ready when you are. Come on, Robin.”

  Robin hesitated.

  “Go on,” Lilly encouraged. “I’ll tell your mom where you are.”

  It wasn’t that, Robin wanted to say. It was that she really wasn’t in the mood for watching baseball. She almost preferred to watch grass grow. But given the looks on Mr. Webber’s and his daughter’s faces, she knew she couldn’t let them down.

  She took a deep breath. “All right.” It wasn’t as though she had anything else to do, anyway, she reasoned.

  Tony followed Paul to his office. Each was submerged in his own private thoughts when Special Agent Larry Evans rushed up to them.

  “There you guys are. I’ve been looking for you all over the place.”

  “What’s up, Larry?” Paul asked with a frown.

  “We got an ID on the last body down at the morgue. You’ll never guess in a million years who it is.”

  “Try me.”

  “Eric Mercer.”

  The name seemed vaguely familiar to Paul, but in the end he drew a blank.

  Tony, on the other hand, snapped his fingers. “Wasn’t there an Eric and David Mercer on the Most Wanted list?” He looked to Paul for confirmation. “I believe they’re wanted for racketeering, extortion and possibly murder.”

  “Possibly?” Larry asked. “Try eighteen counts. And yes, they’ve been on our list for the last decade. Not to mention, the Montello Mafia has contracts out for both of them. Last I heard the price was two million.”

  In sync, Paul and Tony emitted a low whistle.

  “And that’s per head,” Larry added, crossing his arms and rocking on his heels. “They apparently double-crossed them on something, and the Montellos are carrying a grudge.”

  “So what are we looking at—the mall shooting was an execution by the Montellos?”

  “We shouldn’t rule it out,” Larry said.

  “What in the hell was Eric doing there?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” Larry patted Paul’s shoulder as he moved away. “Seems like you two have one hell of a case on your hands.”

  “This case is getting stranger by the minute,” Tony commented, closing Paul’s office door.

  Paul made his way behind his desk.

  “What are you thinking?” Tony asked.

  “About what Virginia Jacobson said.”

  “She didn’t really say much.”

  “True. But remember she said something about the ph
one call her partner had received?”

  Tony thought for a moment. “Something about a frantic call from a woman and something she had seen about her husband.”

  Paul nodded. “She had seen her husband’s picture posted somewhere.”

  “Are you thinking that there is a Mrs. Eric or David Mercer out there?”

  “Not unless the Mercers had her silenced by now. But frankly, I think it fits our puzzle.”

  The men stared at each other before Tony asked, “You think it was a hit by the Montellos, then?”

  “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  “Then where is David Mercer?”

  “Now that I would love to know.”

  Chapter 7

  Robin watched the ball game from the bleachers with surprise and excitement. She’d never seen a game quite like this before. The pitcher, Bobbi in this case, purposely tried to hit the batters she didn’t like. The result was a lot of fights.

  Of course, none of the action took place when Mr. Webber watched the first two innings. During that time, Bobbi was an ideal player—but now…

  Stanley Forrester stood inside the batter’s box with a fierce glare aimed at Bobbi, almost as if he were daring her to hit him again.

  He was a cute boy, Robin assessed. His complexion looked more yellow than brown, and he had a deep set of dimples that made him look as if he were smiling even when he wasn’t.

  There was a small part of Robin that wondered if Bobbi’s outrageous behavior toward him was because she secretly liked him more than she cared to admit.

  Robin leaned forward and pressed her elbows against her knees as she watched Bobbi prepare to deliver the next pitch.

  Stanley crouched, seemingly ready to knock the ball out of the field if given half the chance.

  He had no such luck.

  Bobbi sent the ball careening inside the batter’s box.

  Stanley ducked, dropped his bat and covered his head.

  “Ball,” the umpire called, then waved a warning finger in Bobbi’s direction. “Another one of those, Miss Webber, and I’m going to have to take you out of the game.”

  Stanley, now covered in red dirt, stood with both fists planted on his hips. There were no words exchanged, but the heated glares exchanged between him and Bobbi spoke volumes.

  Robin glanced over at the tattered scoreboard. Bobbi’s team, the Wildcats, was still ahead three-to-two in the top of the ninth, but with a runner on first and second, the last thing Bobbi needed was to walk a batter to load the bases.

  The next two pitches sailed perfectly over the plate, and each time the umpire declared strikes.

  Robin crossed her fingers and prayed for another strike to end the game, but instead the next pitch beaned Stanley on his left shoulder.

  Stanley yelled and was awarded first base.

  Amazingly, Bobbi simply shrugged apologetically at the umpire, but in Robin’s opinion she hadn’t looked too sorry about the pitch.

  Now the bases were loaded. Other members of the Wildcats groaned aloud and shouted at her not to lose the game.

  And she didn’t. The next batter, Jordan something or other, swung at the next three pitches and struck out. Snobby Bobbi had won the game.

  From first base, Stanley removed his cap and threw it down in the dirt.

  Bobbi cast him a smug smile as he stormed off the field.

  Robin climbed down from the bleachers and went over to congratulate Bobbi on winning the game, but Stanley cut her off.

  “Hi,” he said.

  Robin blinked, startled by the boy’s sudden appearance. “Hi.”

  “Are you new in town?” His dimples deepened as he smiled down at her. His earlier anger seemed to have disappeared.

  “N-no. Me and my mom are just passing through.”

  “Oh. Well, what’s your name?”

  “Robin.”

  “Leave her alone, Stanley. She’s with me,” Bobbi announced, appearing at her side.

  Stanley’s smile disappeared. “I can talk to her if I want to.”

  Bobbi grabbed Robin’s arm and pulled her back.

  Robin was amazed at the girl’s strength.

  “Leave her alone if you know what’s good for ya.”

  Stanley shook his head, but decided to give up the fight. He looked at Robin one last time. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  Robin nodded with a coy smile.

  To Bobbi, Stanley stuck out his tongue, then stormed off.

  “What a loser,” Bobbi declared once he was out of earshot.

  “I don’t know. I think he’s kind of cute.” When Bobbi’s eyes narrowed on her, Robin’s smile grew. “Really cute.”

  Julia’s head felt as if it were ready to explode. When she finally managed to open her eyes, she was surprised to find the spot next to her empty.

  “Robin,” she called, and shot up in bed. Fire rushed down her throat, and the fast movement caused the room to spin. She opened her mouth to call for Robin again, but erupted into a coughing frenzy.

  She lay down again and waited for the throbbing in her temples to stop. What time was it? The question surfaced somewhere in the groggy haze of her mind. And where was Robin?

  She looked around and found the clock on the nightstand. She squinted at the numbers in hopes of bringing them into focus.

  “One forty-five,” she slurred, then shook her head in disbelief. “It can’t be.” Had she truly slept away the morning?

  Still determined to climb out of bed, she swung one leg over the side, then rested before attempting to move the other. Why was every limb so heavy?

  A loud pounding echoed in the room, and subsequently Julia instinctively cowered.

  “Julia, may I come in?”

  Julia moaned.

  The door cracked open and a familiar head poked through. What was the woman’s name again—Lizzy…Linda? She couldn’t remember.

  “My goodness. You look like something the cat dragged in.” The woman marched over to her and laid her hand against Julia’s forehead.

  Was her name Lori?

  “Lordy be. You’re burning up.” She flung the sheets back from the bed. “Now you get yourself back in bed. I’ll take care of everything.”

  “M-my daughter…?”

  “Now don’t you worry none. Li’l Robin is just fine. She went down to the park with my niece to watch her play ball. They should be back any minute. Meanwhile, I’m going to get you something that will help you with that fever you’re running and get something in that belly of yours. You’ve already missed breakfast and lunch.”

  “B-but we have to get on the road today.”

  “Carson is looking over your car right now. And don’t you worry none. When it comes to cars, there’s nothing my brother can’t fix. Besides, you can’t drive in this condition.”

  Julia eased back down onto the bed. Why was it so hot in the room?

  Lilly pulled the covers over her, but Julia quickly pushed them off.

  “Oh, dear.” The woman rushed out of the room.

  Julia frowned. Was it Lisa? She exhaled and gave up trying to recall the woman’s name. She had more important things to do—didn’t she? Suddenly she wasn’t too sure of anything.

  The woman returned and pressed something against her mouth. “Okay, honey. We need to get some fluids in you.”

  A cool stream of water slid between Julia’s parched lips and coursed down her throat. She couldn’t remember ever tasting anything so good. Greedily she tilted the cup up but started to choke.

  “Careful now. There’s more where this came from. Here, take these.” The woman pressed two pills into Julia’s hand.

  “It’s just aspirin. It should help bring down your fever.”

  Without hesitation, Julia tossed back the small pills, then drained the rest of the water. Unfortunately, it didn’t immediately relieve her headache.

  “I’ll put some soup on for you. It won’t take but a minute to fix. I wish I’d come up here sooner. I thought
that after the night you had you were just tired. I even asked your daughter not to disturb you.” She headed toward the door. “I could just kick myself. I should have been up here sooner.” She slipped out of the room again.

  Julia frowned at the door. Was it Lacey?

  Carson pushed himself out from underneath the car and sat up. It was a shame how people treated their cars sometimes. Julia’s Impala looked as though it hadn’t even had an oil change in two presidential elections.

  He shook his head. That was the least of Mrs….well, Julia’s problem. Her car’s engine was ready for the old junkyard in the sky, which was probably the last thing she’d want to hear.

  “Daddy, Daddy.”

  Carson looked up to see Bobbi running into the shop. He stood and wiped most of the oil from his hands on a nearby rag before she bounded up into his arms. “Whoa.”

  “We won. We won.”

  A wide smile spread across his face as a jolt of pride filled his chest. “That’s my girl. So you still have your perfect record. That sounds like a reason to celebrate, if you ask me.”

  “Yeah!”

  From the corner of his eye, Carson caught a glimpse of Robin easing into the garage. He turned his smile in her direction. “Did you enjoy the game, Miss Robin?”

  The little girl crossed her arms and shrugged. “It was all right.”

  “She doesn’t like baseball,” Bobbi injected with a crooked smile. “She likes dolls.”

  Robin glared at Bobbi’s back. “I don’t hate baseball. I just like football better.”

  That statement grabbed Bobbi’s attention.

  Carson set his daughter down. “There’s nothing wrong with little girls liking dolls. You should give it a try sometime.”

  “Why?” Bobbi asked, dismayed.

  Carson laughed when he realized he didn’t have an answer. “Well, I can’t see how it would hurt. Can you?”

  Bobbi, probably for the first time in her life, was speechless.

  He laughed again. “I’d say today’s victory deserves the usual.”