Anytime Darlin' (11 page)

Go,
he thought,
knock on her door, crush your mouth on hers, bury yourself inside her, maybe right there against the wall in the living room with the curtains half open. Forget everything you’re thinking about for one hour.

He couldn’t move. His hands refused to release the steering wheel. What kind of man would he be if he used Janice like that? She didn’t deserve to be treated like a sexual punching bag. Jake was disgusted with himself for even considering it.

As he sat there looking toward the house, Janice drifted by the front window, a dark silhouette against the light. Jake wondered how she was feeling, what she’d done about the pregnancy. God, he hadn’t thought about her in days. He didn’t even know if she’d told her parents or said anything to Jim Peters. Jake was tempted to just talk to her, but he couldn’t. She was too vulnerable, and he was too raw. Better to let sleeping dogs lie.

Jake waited until Janice’s shadow passed out of the living room before he started his truck. He hadn’t gone half a block before he slammed on his brakes and threw the truck in reverse. Jesus Christ! How had he missed it? Janice’s mother—the Ice Princess, as Janice sarcastically referred to her—her name was Rebecca Matheson, but she went by Bitsy. Everyone called her Bitsy. He would never have known her real name was Rebecca if Janice hadn’t mentioned it. She was a mortgage broker, a mortgage broker who must have worked closely with the biggest title company in town, Franz Title.

Jake pulled into Janice’s driveway and turned off the ignition. He took a deep breath as he climbed out of the vehicle, trying to decide what to ask and how to ask it. It might be nothing. Then again, it might be everything.

Janice was already at the front door when he knocked.

“What are you doing here, Jake?”

She looked thin and pale. Jake noticed the dark circles under her eyes. She wore a pair of baggy sweats, and her hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail. This wasn’t the Janice Jake was familiar with. Despite his nagging concern for her well-being, he had other things on his mind right now. Right or wrong, he decided to file his concerns away for a later date.

Jake stood in silence for a moment, searching for the right words, wondering if Janice would ask him in. He remembered that he wasn’t supposed to know about the pregnancy, so that topic was off-limits. Janice stared at him, both defiance and defeat in her gaze, but she said nothing, seeming to enjoy his discomfort.

Jake decided to keep it simple. “I wondered what happened after I left you with your mom. I wondered how you are.”

“Why do you care? We’re not together.”

“You’re right. We’re not together,” said Jake, feeling awkward. He’d never seen this side of Janice. “Look, I’m sorry. I should have stopped by before to see how you are, but I’ve been busy.”

“Busy with what?” Janice intoned sarcastically. “A seventeen-year-old runaway? Got a sudden taste for little girls, Jake?”

Jake was shocked at Janice’s tone. His body tightened. If Janice had been a man, he’d have decked him. Jake had learned when he was a boy that you never hit a girl, or woman. Right now, Devlin, for all her youth, seemed a lot more of a woman than Janice did. “What I do with my time is none of your damn business anymore.”

“Then I guess it’s
time
for you to leave.” She turned to close the door.

“Janice, wait.” Jake forced himself to place a gentle hand on her arm. “I have a question, and your answer is very important.”

“Fine.” She sighed, the anger controlled. “What?”

“It’s about the runaway, Devlin. After I took you home, did you mention her to anyone? Talk about her with anyone?”

“Maybe. So what? I didn’t mention a last name. What does it matter? These kids are a dime a dozen. They show up in the ER all the time.”

“Who did you talk to? Do you remember? It’s important.”

“Why? What’s so important about whether or not I mentioned the girl to anyone?”

Jake suddenly noticed the stack of unopened newspapers by Janice’s front door. It appeared she didn’t know who Devlin was, or anything about William Franz’s involvement with her.

“Because somebody found out where she was, somebody who shouldn’t have,” Jake said.

“And you think I went out and told the guy who did it?” Janice was incredulous. “What kind of person do you think I am?”

“You were upset that morning. You might have inadvertently mentioned her name.”

“Yeah, to my mom, so what? Who’s she going to tell? C’mon, Jake, get real. We talk about our cases all the time.” Janice was furious. “What? Are you suggesting my mom beat and raped her? When did you start using drugs, Jake McKenna?”

Jake refused to lose his temper with Janice. She had no idea why he was asking about her mother, and he couldn’t tell her. But, if he was right, he’d just found out how Franz learned Devlin was in the hospital, that she’d already been pegged as the victim of an assault and the police were involved.

“No, I’m not suggesting anything of the sort. I’m not suggesting that you had anything to do with it. I’m sorry you misunderstood.”

Jake reached toward the side of Janice’s face and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She stood still, as if frozen by his touch. He felt sorry for her, and he was ashamed he’d been superficial enough to become her lover.

“Good night, Janice. I’m sorry I upset you.” Jake turned to go.

Janice called after him, “Jake, wait. What’s all this about?”

“I’m not sure. You take care of yourself.”

“You too,” she whispered.

Jake knew he should call Mike or Shauna, but he had to get out of the city. Janice’s harsh words had added to his anger. Devlin’s life had been stolen from her by William Franz. Now, depending upon how involved her mother was, Janice might find her family torn apart, but it would be nothing, nothing, compared to what Devlin had suffered. He pointed his truck west on I-80 and took the turnoff to Berthoud Pass. He was going to mention his suspicions and pass along the information he’d gleaned from Janice, but first, he wanted to inhale some clean, fresh mountain air. After listening to Devlin’s story and talking to Janice, he felt like some of William Franz’s filth had been scattered into the very air he breathed. A quick trip to the mountains would help.

It had begun snowing, but Jake barely noticed. His truck had all-weather tires and four-wheel drive, and he’d grown up in the mountains. Inclement weather didn’t bother him. A lot of people were afraid of weather. Not Jake. He’d always felt a powerful pleasure when surrounded by the electric energy of a thunderstorm or the furious, icy winds of a raging blizzard. The louder the thunder, the better he liked it. The more dangerous the lightning, the happier he was. He appreciated extremes, whether it was in weather or people.

It was why he’d been attracted to Janice. She wore her sexuality for everyone to see, but the truth was, she gave it up to very few. She looked like a goddess, all legs, pouting lips, and round, high, generous breasts that were impossible to ignore. She’d wanted him from the moment their eyes met, and she made no pretense about it. She wasn’t Jake’s usual type. She was too beautiful, too out there. She was attractive to many men. She knew it, and she used it. Jake had never before been involved with a woman like that, and as far as he was concerned, he never would be again.

Jake wasn’t into sharing. Up until he left for Montana, Janice had never cheated on him. He was confident of that. But he learned early on that she used her sex appeal to get what she wanted, from anyone, and it had rankled. Janice wasn’t a bad person—that’s how she functioned. It had always worked for her. In the end, it all came down to maintenance. Janice needed a lot of it. Jake wasn’t into that. He liked a confident woman, but he didn’t want to be the sole source of that confidence. He had his own goals, his own hopes and dreams, his own needs, and he wasn’t ready to drop everything and become something he wasn’t merely to suit someone else. He had a lot of living left to do.

Janice, and his recent relationship with her, was still on Jake’s mind when he pulled off at the trailhead. If he was right about her mother being involved with Franz, it could tear her family apart. Despite his current feelings about Janice, Jake didn’t wish that for her, but he didn’t see any alternative. He had to tell the police. Janice didn’t deserve it, but then, neither did Devlin. Her family certainly hadn’t deserved to die. If Janice’s mother could lead them to the bastard, well then, so be it.

Jake headed up the trail at a brisk trot. Within ten minutes, he’d warmed up and broken into a run. It was cold, and he was steaming after the first mile. Despite the snow, or maybe because of it, Jake started to feel better. He quickened his pace, and his head began to empty in the cold air.

Jake woke up starving. After a quick trip to the bathroom, he pulled on the pair of jeans he’d dropped on the floor the night before and headed to the kitchen. He’d run and hiked for three or four miles in the snow, hard and fast, working up a good sweat and feeling a hell of a lot better by the time he returned to his truck. The quiet and the solitude of the high, open country did him a world of good, and he felt like he had a better handle on things. He still needed to call Mike, but first he needed to eat. He hadn’t eaten well in days, not since Devlin crashed.

Jake was a decent cook, especially when the food was eggs. He could whip up a mean omelet. He hadn’t shopped lately, so he practically emptied the fridge, pulling out cheese, onions, potatoes, an overripe avocado, a container of leftover cooked potatoes, eggs, and cream. God, he didn’t think he’d ever been so hungry in his life. He folded the omelet onto a big platter and laid on the black pepper and Tabasco. Then, his stomach growling, Jake wolfed it down and immediately made another one. Finally satisfied, he was just finishing off a big glass of orange juice when the phone rang.

It was Mike, calling to check on him. He was coming off his shift. Jake asked him to stop by on his way home.

Devlin’s stomach woke her up. She was ravenous, hungrier than she’d been in a year. Amy answered Devlin’s call light.

“Do you remember,” Devlin began with a grin, “what we were in the middle of a week ago?”

“You mean sending me out in a blizzard for French fries?”

“Yeah,” laughed Devlin, “I would kill for a big plate of French fries.”

Amy winked at her. “I’ll see what I can do.” Devlin burst out laughing when Amy left the room shouting, “Hey, ya’ll, where are those French fries I got last week? The princess is hungry!”

Devlin heard a commotion near the desk, and within twenty minutes, a procession of staff members carried in a huge platter of French fries accompanied by an entire bottle of ketchup, two grilled cheese sandwiches, and an ice-cold, thick, chunky chocolate milk shake. Devlin thanked them and offered to share, but no one would hear of it. Amy plopped down in a chair and refused to leave the room until Devlin finished every bite.

Devlin made quick work of half the fries and both sandwiches. She and Amy were in the midst of a taste test to determine which they liked better, fries dipped in ketchup or fries dipped in the milk shake, when a voice said, “The shake,” and Mary walked over to the bedside. With a smile, she reached across the table, grabbed a French fry, dipped it in the chocolate shake, and chewed daintily. “Definitely the shake.”

“Oh, Mary!” Devlin climbed out of bed, throwing her arms around her friend, being careful of Mary’s pregnant belly. “I’m so sorry it was you, and I’m so very, very glad,” she whispered in Mary’s ear.

Mary kissed her cheek. She held her out at arm’s length to get a good look at her. “You look better. Thin as a rail, but better. How do you feel?”

“Alive, and very, very hungry.”

Mary laughed. “My mom’s already working on it. She’s stocking up my fridge for you.”

Devlin was taken aback. “I hadn’t thought about that. I honestly hadn’t thought about what I would do or where I would go. I guess I wasn’t certain…” Devlin’s voice trailed off.

Mary took her hand. “I didn’t mean to catch you off guard. It’s just that, well, my mom and I feel like we’re your family. And we want…we want you to be with people you know. You can’t go home yet, back to Iowa, I mean, and nobody wants you in foster care. I talked to the Social Services agent last night. She thought we could get a court order to take you home with us when you’re discharged.”Mary hesitated. “I guess nobody thought to ask you.”

“No,” protested Devlin, a slight hitch in her voice, “it’s not that. Really, I’d like to go home with you.” She squeezed Mary’s hand. “I just haven’t had time to think about my future. I didn’t think I’d have one. But Mary, I don’t know where to start, what to do. I know there are things I need to do.”

“My mom’s already handling some of it, and you have a lawyer, you know, back in Iowa. I have his number. You can call him anytime.”

“I think I need to sit down for a minute. This seems kind of overwhelming.”

“Then take it one day at a time, one thing at a time.”

Devlin thought for a moment. “I need a lawyer, here, in Denver.”

Devlin took her time responding. “I don’t want you to think me ungrateful. It’s so generous of you to open your home to me, you and Kenneth—that’s your husband’s name, isn’t it?”

“Jason told me about him last summer. And I’d definitely love to stay with you, but I think I need to take things a step further. I know I’m almost eighteen, and then I’ll legally be on my own, but for the next few months, I don’t want to be a ward of the state or have to fight the courts over foster care. Do you understand what I mean?”

Mary nodded uncertainly, a little confused. “But if you come home with me, Kenneth and I could arrange to be your foster parents and you could finish school.”

“I appreciate that,” said Devlin, “but I think I want to be emancipated. That’s why I need to see a lawyer here in Denver. I want to be declared an emancipated minor. I can still stay with you for a while if you like, but I don’t want anyone to have to take care of me. And I’ve”—Devlin flushed—“I’ve had enough of other people managing things for me, making decisions for me, controlling me. I want my mom and dad, but I don’t have my mom and dad. So I’d rather do it myself.” Devlin stared at the wall, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.