Nancy Herkness (21 page)

Twenty-One

Charlie’s first impulse was to call Jack but she quashed it as selfish; he had enough on his mind, and this wasn’t his battle anyway. He did a good job of playing father, but dealing with the girl’s real father was her own responsibility.

The fury Don McGraw had evoked was so intense her hands shook.

She dialed Isabelle, then Rhonda, then Mike and called a council of war.

An hour later, everyone was seated in her living room, listening intently to her description of Don’s offer. “The worst part is, I actually considered accepting it,” Charlie finished. “I’ve gotten as sleazy as he is.”

“Honey, you’re not even close,” Rhonda said. “But I don’t think I can do much with the family court judge. Right now, it’s your word against his.”

“You don’t want to take this to court,” Mike said. “The girl would get dragged into it, and we don’t want her to be made any more miserable. Rhonda, I think you and I can get creative and handle this ourselves.”

Mike explained his plan. “McGraw’s a petty criminal, and he thinks he’s smart. But I don’t think he’s a match for an overpaid New York lawyer and a tough-talking New Jersey social worker.” Mike raised his brows and looked at Rhonda; she gave a single nod of agreement. He continued, “I’ll borrow the conference room at Haywood and Mayer in Spring Lake. Rhonda, you’re going to wear your most intimidating ensemble and bring a bulging briefcase. I’ll drag out one of my power suits.”

“What about me?” Charlie asked.

“You won’t be within ten miles of the place.” When Charlie opened her mouth to protest, he held up his hand to stop her. “If Don calls you before I call him, tell him to talk to your lawyer and give him my number.” Mike turned back to Rhonda. “I don’t know a damned thing about family law, so you’ll give me a crash course in the jargon. And we’ll need every form necessary for Don McGraw to sign over his rights to Sallyanne, so no court in the United States would hand her back to him.”

“Forms I’ve got,” Rhonda said.

“We’ll set up the meeting for tomorrow. I don’t want this character hanging around any longer than is absolutely necessary.”

“For a lawyer, you’re okay, Mike,” Rhonda said, rising majestically and handing him her business card. “Let me know what time, and I’ll be there.”

After ushering her to the door, Charlie came back and said, “Why can’t I be there?”

“Because we may have to use tactics that aren’t strictly legal, and you have to be able to deny all knowledge of them,” Mike said with a grin and a crack of his knuckles. “And you might be shocked by some of my language.”

“What about this afternoon?” Isabelle cut in. “Sallyanne will expect her father to be here. Surely you don’t want him in the house after—”

“We’ll go bowling,” Charlie said, decisively. “It’s public, and we won’t really have to talk to him. We can even eat at that new bowling alley. Will you come too, Isabelle?”

“I haven’t been bowling in years—”

“Please?”

“I was going to say, ‘so I could use some brushing up,’” Isabelle continued.

Sallyanne loved bowling, and never noticed Charlie and Isabelle kept their distance from her father. Don easily beat all of them, which put him in an affable mood so he carried the conversation at dinner. As they walked down the hall to leave, Charlie exchanged a congratulatory smile with Isabelle.

Just then, she felt a grip like a vise on her wrist, and she was jerked to a stop.

“You two go on,” Don said to Isabelle and Sallyanne. “I need to talk with Charlie for a minute.”

Charlie nodded to Isabelle. There were plenty of people within yelling distance.

Don kept his hold on her as he waited for his daughter to go out the door. Then he shoved Charlie against the wall. “What does your lawyer want with me?” he demanded, squeezing her wrist harder.

“Please let go of me,” Charlie said calmly.

“You tell me what that bloodsucker wants, and I’ll let you go.”

“Mr. McGraw, there are a lot of people around. If you don’t let go of me, I will scream.”

He stayed where he was for a long moment, increasing the pressure on her wrist until she could feel the bones grind together. Then he let go and took one step back.

Charlie pointedly massaged her wrist before saying, “My lawyer has advised me not to discuss the matter with you.”

Don flushed scarlet and stepped into her again. “I don’t like lawyers,” he hissed. “And I may just change my mind if you don’t watch it.”

“I’ll take that chance,” Charlie said, sliding away from him. “Don’t come in my home when we get back. Tell Sallyanne you’re expecting a phone call, then leave.”

“Watch yourself,” he said, and stalked out the exit.

Much to her relief, Don followed her instructions, but her heart almost broke at the disappointment on Sallyanne’s face as her father drove away. The telephone rang shortly after they got into the house.

“Charlie, it’s Jack.”

“It is so good to hear your voice.”

“Sugar, you sound like you had a really bad day. What’s going on?”

Charlie whacked herself on the forehead at her slip. “Nothing at all. I just missed you.” Weak, very weak, even if it was true.

Luckily, he bought it. “Any particular parts of me you missed especially?” he drawled.

So now he wanted to flirt. “No, just a general sense I hadn’t had my daily dose of smug, self-satisfied male.”

“Oh, I’m feeling very self-satisfied,” he said with a low chuckle. “For all kinds of reasons. Really, sugar, how many men have made love on a 34-ton iron? It’s a meteorite hunter’s greatest fantasy.”

“Actually, we did it on a display shelf between two much smaller meteorites.” She wasn’t going to give in to his telephone seduction. “Tell me another reason you’re feeling self-satisfied,” she said, trying to ignore the heat his words were stoking deep in her gut.

“All right,” he said. “I signed the contract selling Sahara-Mars to the scientists.”

“Can you retire now?”

“If I cut back on caviar.”

“That’s wonderful!” she said, smiling. “Any progress on the Mauritania issue?”

“Your buddy has gotten the right people together. Believe it or not, Burke has put some pressure on too; he’s working the angle that Mauritania doesn’t have the scientific expertise to analyze the meteorite properly.”

“I’m glad he’s on your side now. He’s a tough opponent, a lot like you.”

“Miguel just arrived,” Jack said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Give Sallyanne a big kiss for me. And sugar, this is what I want to give you.”

Before he hung up, he whispered two sentences that made Charlie’s cheeks burn scarlet.

The following morning, on her way home from school drop-off duty, Charlie’s cell phone rang. She punched the “hands-free talk” button and said hello.

“They’ve stolen Sahara-Mars.”

“Jack?”

“The bastards stole Sahara-Mars. Right out of the goddamn Museum of Natural History.”

“Who stole it?” Charlie swung the car into an empty parking place and killed the engine.

“According to the letter, an extremist faction from Mauritania.”

“Oh no! Have you talked to the police?”

“The police. The F.B.I. The C.I.A. And the State Department. I’m about to go over and watch the museum’s videotapes. Museum security says the thieves bypassed the alarm system and knocked out the guards with some kind of gas.”

“That sounds too professional for a political faction from Mauritania. They aren’t usually that organized.”

“They knew enough to take it in the case. So hopefully, the meteorite will still be intact.”

“What can I do to help?” she asked. “I could try and call—”

“There’s nothing you can do, sugar.” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Nothing at all. I’ll call you later.”

Charlie was surprised when she pulled into her driveway fifteen minutes later; she had no recollection of driving there. She rested her forehead against the steering wheel and continued to rack her brain for a way to help Jack. She knew a few people in the New York City Police Department, but they were mostly street cops…a case this high profile will get plenty of attention from the police anyway. Jack had said the F.B.I. and C.I.A. were involved already. I could do some research on Mauritanian politics…but Dyson Foley would know more than she would.

She banged her head once on the steering wheel. “Ow! I hate this. I can’t do anything for Jack. I can’t meet with Don McGraw. What can I do?”

Opening the car door, she sniffed the fresh spring air.

“Go for a run with Major. That’s what I can do.”

Soon she and the Kuvasz were speeding across the sand, scattering seagulls like confetti. As Charlie settled into her rhythm, she forgot the dog, the seagulls and the ocean.

If the meeting with Don went according to plan, she would be a mother much sooner than she had anticipated. Rhonda would never take Sallyanne away from her now, hazardous profession or no. Of course, she probably wouldn’t be able to adopt from China. Usually if an adoptive parent already had a child that disqualified them. She searched her heart for any lingering regrets about not having a baby to cradle in her arms and found none. Sallyanne was a real person with a real need. The baby was only a dream.

Now she had to get serious about finding another source of income. The Average Adventurer had two articles completed, one in draft form, and three sets of notes she’d written on expeditions taken in the last three months. Maybe Jack would consider that book now that he knew her better.

Jack. Somewhere in the back of her mind had lived a little hope that with time and some really great sex, she might persuade him their marriage could become real. He was wonderful with Sallyanne, but a child represented everything he claimed not to want, home, hearth, family.

He’d run the other direction now.

She stumbled as a physical pain lanced through her chest.

How stupid am I? First Nick, now Jack. “ ‘Love is a universal migraine…blotting out reason,’” she gasped as she hit her stride again. “I can’t remember where I read that but it’s accurate.”

Major barreled into her as he raced the surf up the beach.

“Watch it, boy!” she said, staggering. She stopped and gave his damp head a rub. “I guess I’m adopting you and Twinkle too. Since Jack won’t be staying, I need to keep the rest of the family unit together.”

That decision made, she started to run again, imagining her new life with Sallyanne. It will be fun to decorate her room with her…and take her to the library to pick out books. Summer was coming so they could build sand castles on the beach, play with Major, eat ice cream on the boardwalk…

She jumped three feet as her cell phone vibrated on the waistband of her shorts.

“Hello?” she panted.

“Charlie, it’s Mike. Don signed the papers. It took a little persuading, but he’s leaving for Tennessee tomorrow.”

“That’s great,” Charlie said, bending over to relieve the sudden cramp in her side. “How did it go?”

“He didn’t like being railroaded. He was quite angry—wait a minute.”

Charlie heard Rhonda’s voice in the background.

“Rhonda says she’s going straight to the school to meet with the principal and explain some of the situation. She’ll make sure they know only two people are authorized to see or pick up Sallyanne: you and herself.”

“Does she think Don would try to take her?”

“Most kidnappings are by family members,” Mike answered. “We’ve got to be careful. And Charlie, it’s not going to be easy, but you have to decide what to tell her about her father.”

“I know,” she said, the tightness in her chest now having nothing to do with her exertions. “Does Rhonda have any suggestions?”

“She’ll come by to talk with you about it after she stops by the school. Good luck. And congratulations on becoming a mother!”

“Thanks.” She hit the “disconnect” button. “I’m a mother!” she said to Major. “I’m a mother! Not exactly the way I planned, but I have a child.”

An elderly couple strolling hand-in-hand on the beach smiled quizzically at the tall young woman dancing a jig at the edge of the surf as a huge white dog capered around her, barking excitedly.

Twenty-Two

Charlie stared out at the channel through the kitchen window as she framed and reframed her discussion with Sallyanne. She heaved an enormously relieved sigh when Rhonda finally arrived.

“You’ve got yourself a daughter now,” Rhonda said without preamble as she stepped inside the door. “Are you sure you and Jack are ready for this?”

“What do you think?”

“I think if you aren’t, it’s too bad because that little girl needs you.” Then she enveloped Charlie in a bear hug that smelled of tropical flowers. “This story has a happy ending. I can feel it in my bones.”

“If I can get past this afternoon, I’ll agree with you,” Charlie said against the woman’s shoulder as she hugged her back.

Rhonda stepped out of their embrace. “Is Jack going to be here when Sallyanne gets home?”

“I’m afraid not,” Charlie said. “He’s got a major problem on his hands right now. Sahara-Mars has been stolen. He found out this morning.”

“When trouble comes, it always comes in threes,” Rhonda commented. “Let’s talk. There isn’t much time till school lets out, and you’ll be handling a tough conversation alone.”

She gestured to the couch, and Charlie nodded. They both sat, and Rhonda continued, “The best policy is to tell the truth. Up to a point. Don’t mention the money, but do tell her that her Papa just wasn’t prepared to be a father. When Jack comes home, have him tell her that he is. Don’t try to sugarcoat it too much. Sallyanne’s too smart.”

“I know. I’m so afraid of what she’ll ask me.”

“She’ll only ask what she’s ready to handle. She’s smart enough for that too.” Rhonda took an appreciative look around the room. “You know, I’m going to miss your place when this case is closed.”

“You’ll be coming back, won’t you?”

“As little as possible, and only officially. I don’t want to disrupt the relationship you’re building with the child.”

“I’m really touched by your trust, but I want you to come and see her … and me!”

“I can’t be spending extra time on a child whose future is secure. There are too many others who still need my help,” Rhonda said sternly. “But I’ll do my best to work you in occasionally.”

Charlie felt tears gathering.

“We have two other issues to deal with, young lady,” Rhonda said, pretending not to notice Charlie’s wet eyes. “And don’t think you can get me to ignore either one. The first is your Chinese adoption. Do you and Jack still want to go through with that?”

“Will we be able to? Isn’t it difficult if you already have a child?”

“I can’t guarantee anything but I believe a strong argument can be made for extenuating circumstances.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful. Thank you!” Charlie breathed, then hesitated, “but we’d want to talk to Sallyanne about it first.”

Rhonda nodded. “Good idea. Now what about your traveling? Can you cut back on that sooner rather than later?”

“I talked with my agent. She’s going to shop a few ideas I came up with. And I’m looking for a good topic for a book. Until that comes through, I’ve got several more Average Adventurer articles ready to go. I figure I can start up the column again when Sallyanne’s old enough to go rock-climbing with me.”

Rhonda started to sputter but caught the teasing glint in Charlie’s eye. The telephone rang and Charlie checked the caller ID. “It’s Sallyanne’s school,” she said, snatching the handset out of the cradle. She listened for a few minutes, asked a couple of questions, and hung up.

“That was the principal, Mrs. Falcone. Don came to the school to say good-bye just a few minutes ago,” she told Rhonda. “Mrs. Falcone explained she couldn’t allow it, and he went ballistic. It took two gym teachers, a custodian and the assistant principal to get him off school grounds.”

Rhonda pulled her cell phone out of her briefcase and scrolled through her speed dial numbers. “I’m going to make sure the police put a patrol car outside your house until that man is back in Tennessee.”

Charlie bit her lip. “Shouldn’t he be allowed to say good-bye?”

“Honey, I deal with this kind of thing all the time. It’s nasty, and you can’t get sentimental about it.” Rhonda stopped as someone answered her call. After she made the arrangements, she put the phone away. “You watch yourself. Don’s angry and that makes him dangerous and unpredictable.”

“I know, but it’s going to hurt her if he leaves without–”

“She has you and Jack now. You’ll make things right.”

After Rhonda left, Charlie made a quick survey of the cul-de-sac before she went out to her car. She wished she were as confident as Rhonda that she would say the right things.

“When is Papa coming by?” Sallyanne asked as she fastened her seatbelt. “I got a hundred on my math test, and I want to show it to him.”

“Mmmm, we have to talk about that when we get home,” Charlie said as she made sure all the car doors were locked. “That’s great about your math test!”

There was silence from the back seat.

“Did you get any other tests back today?” Charlie prodded.

“He’s not coming, is he?” a small voice asked.

Charlie sighed and swung the car into a parking space by the boardwalk.

“Let’s take a walk, sweetheart,” she said.

Sallyanne’s face was a mask of indifference over a world of hurt. When Charlie put her arm around the girl’s shoulders, she could feel her rigidity. She walked her over to a bench that looked out toward the ocean, and sat her down. Charlie perched sideways, but the little girl stared straight out to sea.

“Your Papa loves you,” Charlie started. “He just realized he can’t make a home for you. He travels a lot for his job, and he doesn’t have a wife to help take care of you.”

A tear flowed down the child’s cheek. “People shouldn’t say they love you when they don’t.”

“He does love you. He came all the way from Tennessee just to see you and to make sure you were safe and happy. He believes you’ll be happier here than with him. Real love sometimes means giving up what you love.”

“He shouldn’t have come.”

“He needed to come. He needed to see you.”

Charlie decided to turn the conversation in a different direction. “Would you like to stay with me and be my daughter? I think we get along well, and I’ve always wanted to adopt a little girl. You don’t have to decide right this minute. Take your time and think about it.”

Sallyanne swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I’d like that a lot.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” Charlie said, sweeping the girl up in her arms and onto her lap, tears of sheer relief spilling down her own cheeks.

“What should I call you?”

“Sweetheart, you can call me whatever you want.” Charlie hugged Sallyanne, then held her away so she could see her face. “I can’t take the place of your mama; her name will always be special. You can keep calling me Charlie.”

The girl shook her head.

Charlie tried to think of something else. “Why don’t you call me Ma’am?”

“But you always tell me not to.”

“Truthfully, I’ve gotten to like it when you say it. You have such a pretty accent.”

“Really?” Sallyanne said, looking at Charlie dubiously.

Charlie nodded. When Sallyanne kept on studying her, she added, “Ma’am has the same letters as ‘mama,’ just in a different order.”

Sallyanne’s face lit up. “And you’re my mama in a different order.”

Charlie’s heart leapt, then sank fast as Sallyanne’s face crumpled. “I’m not going to call Jack Papa because I don’t like that name anymore,” she whispered. “I’ll call him Daddy.”

Charlie winced. What a tangled web she had woven.

Just then, Sallyanne put her head down on Charlie’s shoulder and sobbed out her sorrow at losing two parents. Charlie forgot about Jack and wept with her. She’d give anything to take away such suffering. All she could do was resolve to bring enough joy to the little girl’s future to throw a softening haze over her memories of loss.

When Sallyanne finally lay limp and silent against her shoulder, Charlie picked her up and carried her to the car, carefully fastening the seatbelt across her lap.

“Let’s go home,” she said, brushing back the hair clinging to the girl’s wet cheeks. “To our home.”

Sallyanne insisted on doing her homework, even though Charlie said she’d write a note to the teacher if she didn’t want to. She asked to go to bed early, and went upstairs to put on her pajamas and brush her teeth. Charlie followed her upstairs a few minutes later, and discovered a large object wrapped in a garbage bag sitting at the top of the stairs. She touched it and realized it was the stuffed pink bunny.

Sallyanne came out of the bathroom and saw Charlie looking at it. “I don’t want it.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” Charlie said, taking her hand and leading her into her room.

The child knelt beside her bed and asked God to bless her new ma’am and daddy, Major, Twinkle, Isabelle, Rhonda, Mrs. Gencarelli from the apartment building, her cousins and grandmother in Tennessee, and her mama in heaven. Blessings for Papa were conspicuously absent. Well, Charlie didn’t blame her for the omission. And they could talk about forgiveness when Don’s desertion was farther in the past. She tucked her new daughter into bed, and kissed her good night, hoping the child was so exhausted she wouldn’t lie awake wondering why her own father didn’t want her.

She went downstairs and poured herself a glass of white wine to take out to the porch. She needed some quiet time to figure out how to deal with the suddenly complicated issue of Sallyanne and Jack.

The moment she closed the refrigerator door, the telephone rang.

“Charlie, it’s Jack. I want to bring the security videotapes from the museum down there for you to look at. There’s something nagging at me about them, and I can’t put my finger on it. I’m hoping you can catch it.”

“Anything I can do to help,” Charlie said with a flutter of pride; he considered her powers of observation better than his.

“Good. I’m on the turnpike already.”

“Um, Jack. I’ve…well, actually, we’ve adopted Sallyanne,” Charlie said, deciding it was better to tell him part of the truth immediately. “Don’s going back to Tennessee tomorrow.”

“The hell he is! What kind of father inserts himself back into his daughter’s life and then abandons her five days later?”

“A bad one. This is best for Sallyanne in the long run. I’m sorry to involve you in this, but you’re going to have to sign a few papers for the adoption. Don’t worry, it won’t affect our divorce proceedings later.”

There was a long silence. “Isn’t it going to be hard when her second father walks out on her?” he finally said.

“Yes, but by then she’ll be settled with me and secure that I won’t leave her,” Charlie said, knocking on the wooden kitchen table for luck.

“I’ll see you in an hour,” he said and disconnected.

Guilt at forcing Jack to walk in and out of Sallyanne’s life swamped her. She remembered all too vividly coming back to whatever bedroom had been hers temporarily only to find her suitcases neatly packed. Her foster mother of the moment—the women always got the job—would more or less gently break the news that she was being sent somewhere else. Somewhere nicer, of course. The desolation and the sense of failure—if only she’d been better they would have kept her—were so piercing that she often couldn’t even cry. Charlie pushed away the terrible memories.

Jack’s absence couldn’t be helped, but Sallyanne would never have any reason to doubt that Charlie loved her. Never.

She prepped the coffee maker before she escaped out to the porch. She sat in the rocker, soothed by the gentle brush of the night breeze against her cheeks and bare arms. She was still rocking when she saw headlights sweep around the cul-de-sac. She got up and walked around to the front of the house as the engine’s growl died into silence, and a car door opened and slammed.

The glow of the car’s interior light glinted on Jack’s hair as he reached into the backseat of the Land Rover to pull out a white bag and a briefcase. When he closed the back door, he looked up and saw Charlie.

“Sugar, you are a sight for sore eyes,” he said, a slow smile pulling the comers of his mouth upward.

In three strides, he was there with his arms wrapped around her. She slid her arms around his waist and leaned close against him. She could hear the uneven rasp of the breath in his chest and feel the strong pulse of his heart against her cheek just beneath the soft, skin-warmed cotton of his shirt. With each breath she drew in the faint scent of an exotic soap, the detergent used to wash his shirt and the warm, distinct smell of the man whom she wanted with all her heart and soul. Just as she was about to say something she’d surely regret, he sighed and loosened his grip.

“Was I suffocating you?” he asked ruefully.

“I was breathing by osmosis,” she joked, not wanting him to let go.

He did anyway, shifting his hands upward to cradle her face as he kissed her forehead. “Sorry. You just looked … welcoming… standing there in the moonlight.” He stepped back, bending to pick up the neglected briefcase and bag.

“I was sitting on the back porch,” Charlie said, leading him back around the house. “Would you like coffee, wine or something stronger?”