Desperately Seeking Dad (5 page)

“I thought we agreed neither of us wanted this to become public knowledge.”

She glanced at the baby, and her mouth softened. “I don't relish publicity any more than you do. But I have to find out about Tina.” She looked back up at him, and he could read the fear in her eyes. “If you're telling me the truth, then I don't have much time.”

“I know.”

He felt the clock ticking, too. It must be much worse for Anne, with three to four weeks to get back the DNA test results he knew would prove him innocent. And about the same time until her hearing. No wonder she wanted to launch into an investigation.

His steps slowed. “We'll find out. I don't expect you to trust me on this, but I'm telling you the truth. We'll find out.”

She nodded, and he thought he saw a sheen of tears in her eyes. “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “The café…is it near here?”

“Right across the street.” He gestured toward the Bluebird Café. “Let me buy you that cup of coffee.”

The baby seemed to enjoy bouncing down over the curb and across the street. She pounded on the stroller tray with both tiny fists.

The Bluebird Café, its façade painted a bright blue to match its name, was one of a series of shops that staggered down either side of Main Street. They were like so many dominoes, looking ready to tumble to the valley floor, but they'd stood where they were for a hundred years or so.

A bit different from Anne's usual setting, he knew, a vision of that luxury high-rise flitting through his mind. What did she think of Bedford Creek in comparison? Of him?

Whoa,
back up and erase that. It didn't matter
what Anne thought of him. Not as long as, in the end, she accepted the fact that he wasn't Emilie's father.

Anne held open the frosted glass door, its placard advertising Cassie's chicken-and-dumpling soup. He lifted the stroller up the two steps from the street and pushed it inside, not wasting time looking up for either admiration or approval in those sapphire eyes.

“Not especially crowded,” Anne observed, unzipping Emilie's snowsuit.

“Empty, as a matter of fact. It's too late for lunch and too early for supper.” He gestured. “So you have your choice of seating.”

She picked a booth halfway back, and by the time they were settled, Cassie had appeared from the kitchen.

“Afternoon, Chief.” She twitched her bluebird-trimmed apron and shot Anne a suspicious glance. “What can I get you?”

“Coffee?” He raised his eyebrows at Anne, and she nodded. “Two coffees.”

“That's it?” Cassie made it sound like a personal affront that they didn't order anything else.

Again he looked at Anne, and she shook her head. “I had lunch on the way.” She gave Cassie a hundred-watt smile. “Another time I'll try your chicken-and-dumpling soup.”

That smile would have had him picking himself up off the floor, Mitch thought. Cassie just jerked
her head in a nod, but her usual grim expression seemed to soften slightly as she plodded back toward the kitchen.

“Does she give all her customers such a warm welcome?”

He leaned against the blue padded seat. “I told you she wouldn't be very forthcoming.”

“A clam is more forthcoming.” She took an animal cracker from her bag and handed it to Emilie. The baby pounded it once on the stroller tray and then stuffed it into her mouth. “Why did she open a restaurant, of all things, if she didn't want to be around people?”

He shrugged. “Not that many ways to make a living in Bedford Creek. You either work at the furniture factory or you make money off tourists. And Cassie is a good cook. You'd better come back for that chicken-and-dumpling soup.”

“I guess I may as well sample the local cuisine while I'm here.”

“And chat with her about Tina while you're at it?” That was obviously in her mind. “Maybe you should let me bring the subject up.”

She pierced him with an intent look. “Would you, if I didn't push? Or would you ignore it?”

“I said I'd work on it, and I will.” He couldn't keep the irritation from his voice. Persistence was a good quality, but he didn't appreciate having it turned on him. “I've already started a couple of lines of inquiry.”

She looked as if she'd like to believe him. “What did you find out?”

The
clink
of coffee mugs announced Cassie's return, and Mitch shot Anne a warning glance. Cassie might not be the yakker Wanda was, but he still didn't want her knowing his business.

Cassie slapped down the mugs, more bluebirds fluttering on the white china. She took a step back, then looked at Anne.

“Fresh apple dumplings tomorrow. Get here early if you want it.”

He suspected laughter hovered on Anne's lips, but she didn't let it out. “Thanks, I'll remember.”

When Cassie was safely back in the kitchen, he shook his head in mock amazement. “Apple dumplings. Believe it or not, you've made an impression. Cassie doesn't offer her apple dumplings to just anyone.”

Amusement lit Anne's eyes. “Dumpling soup and apple dumplings? I'd look like a dumpling if I ate like that.”

He let his glance take in her slim figure, sleek in dark slacks and a sapphire sweater that matched her eyes. “You don't look as if you need to worry.”

She couldn't meet his eyes. “I didn't know investigating was so calorie-intensive.”

“Maybe you ought to leave it to the pros. I can tackle the apple dumplings for you.”

She shook her head, smiling but stubborn. “What
were you going to tell me before Cassie came back out?”

Right. The message was clear: he'd better keep his mind on business.

“I did some preliminary checking on Tina Mallory. She lived in town for six months, worked for Cassie from June to October. Once the tourist season ended, Cassie let her go. Far as I can tell, she left sometime the following month.”

“Why Philadelphia, I wonder? She never told me that.”

So, he could tell her something she didn't know about her friend. “Turns out she lived awhile in Philadelphia. I'd guess when she realized she was pregnant, she wanted to go somewhere familiar.”

“Familiar? Do you mean she still had friends or family there?”

Fear probably put the sharp edge in Anne's voice. Maybe it hadn't occurred to her that Tina might have family. Family that could possibly have a claim to Emilie. He shook his head quickly.

“Not that I can tell. Apparently it was always just her and her mother—no father in evidence. And her mother died about four years ago.” He curled his fingers around the warm mug. “She'd apparently lost touch with any friends she once had. But there certainly had to be more job opportunities in Philadelphia than anywhere around here.”

“That makes sense. I just wonder why she never
told me she'd lived there. In fact, I'm sure she said she was from Los Angeles.”

“Sounds as if Tina was a little careless with the truth at times.”

She gave him a level look, one that said she knew just what he meant. “She was young,” she said finally. “She tried to make herself interesting. But that doesn't mean I should discount everything she said.”

He'd better not let himself enjoy the way Anne's eyes lit up when she smiled, he thought. Or try to figure out a way to prolong moments when they laughed together across the table as if they were friends.

They weren't friends, and Anne obviously intended that they never would be.

B
y the next morning, Anne had nearly succeeded in convincing herself she'd imagined that unsuitable attraction to Mitch. It must be a product of emotional stress. She'd ignore the feelings—she'd always been good at that, thanks to her parents' example.

She maneuvered Emilie's stroller over the curb. One thing she knew about parenting without a doubt: Emilie wouldn't grow up in the kind of emotional desert she had. If she and Terry had had children… But she'd finally realized her husband had no desire for a family. In marrying him, she'd just put herself in another emotionally barren situation.

No, not for Emilie. She bent to tuck the snowsuit hood more closely around the baby's ears, since the weather had turned cooler. Emilie would have love overflowing from her mother. If…

The Bluebird Café, she hoped, might provide some answers. At least today she wouldn't have Mitch sitting across from her when she dropped Tina's name into the conversation. If Cassie did know whom Tina had dated, and if that person was Mitch, she might not want to say anything in front of him.

The hardware store carried a display of window boxes and planting tools. Anne hurried past. Not even the most rabid gardener would be buying window boxes today, she thought. But it was easy to imagine the narrow wooden houses, tucked along the steep hillside, decked out with flowers in every window. Bedford Creek would look like a village in the Swiss Alps.

She pulled the café door open, to be greeted by a wave of warm air scented with apples and cinnamon, and accented with chatter. It wasn't noon yet, but the Bluebird was crowded already. It was obviously the place to be when Cassie made her famous apple dumplings.

She glanced around, aware of the flurry of curious looks sent her way. The only empty table, a small one set for two, was in the front window. She maneuvered the stroller to it. Bringing up Tina's name in a casual way wouldn't be easy with the number of people in the café. She would have to linger over her lunch, hoping to outlast most of them.

“Hi. Can I help you?” The waitress was younger
than Cassie, with a name tag showing her name: Heather.

Anne felt a spurt of optimism. This girl, close in age to Tina, might remember more about Tina than Cassie did, assuming she'd worked at the café then.

“I'll have the chicken-and-dumpling soup.” She put down the plastic-coated menu and smiled at the girl, whose spiky hair and multiple mismatched earrings had to be a fashion statement in a small town. “I've heard it's your specialty.”

“You bet.” Heather's hazel eyes ticked off every detail of Anne's slacks, cashmere sweater and gold jewelry. “Cassie's famous for it. Anything for the baby?”

“No, that's it.”

She'd wait until the girl came back with her food to build on the conversation. Maybe by then she'd have lost the feeling everyone in the place was listening to her.

She bent to pull a jar of baby peaches from the diaper bag. As she straightened, the door swung open again and Mitch walked in.

Her cheeks were warm because she'd been bending over, that was all. She concentrated on Emilie, aware of Mitch's voice as he exchanged greetings with what sounded like everyone in the place. With any luck, he'd be joining one of them for lunch.

Apparently luck didn't have anything to do with it. Mitch made his way, unhurriedly, to her table.
The chair scraped, and he sat down across from her as if they'd had a lunch date.

“Somehow I thought I'd find you here.” He bent to greet Emilie, who responded with a crow of delight when he tickled her.

“Probably because I mentioned yesterday I wanted to come back for the chicken-dumpling soup.”
And a private conversation with Cassie.

His smile told her he knew exactly what she was thinking. “Good day for it.” He waved across the room to Heather. “Another bowl of the chicken soup here, Heather.”

The girl nodded. “You bet, Chief.”

“You guessed—” At his warning glance she lowered her voice. “You guessed I wanted to talk with Cassie myself. I'd rather do it in private.”

“You mean without me around.” His face kept its relaxed expression, probably for the benefit of anyone who might be watching, but his eyes turned to stone. “I have an interest in this, remember?”

“I remember.” She could so easily see his side of it. If he was innocent, naturally he'd want to protect himself by knowing anything she found out. Unfortunately, if he was guilty, the same thing applied.

“Then you can understand why I'm here.” His square jaw seemed carved from granite.

“All right.” She didn't have much choice. She needed his cooperation, whether she liked it or not. “Let me bring it up.”

“Go ahead. But don't be surprised if she can't
tell you much. If you haven't been here during tourist season, you can't imagine how crazy it is.”

The soup arrived in huge, steaming pottery bowls. Heather put down a basket of freshly baked rolls nestled in a blue-checked napkin. She looked from Anne to Mitch.

“Anything else I can get you? Chief, don't you want a sandwich with that? Cassie made pulled pork barbecue.”

“I'm saving room for a dumpling. You've got one back there with my name on it, haven't you?”

“Sure thing.” Heather smiled, touching one earring with a plum-colored nail.

Anne could so easily imagine Mitch having this conversation with Tina. Could imagine this sort of encounter, day after day, leading to an invitation, then to an involvement he might later regret.

“Sounds as if you've been waiting on the chief for a long time.” That probably wasn't the most tactful way into what she wanted to ask, but she couldn't think of a better one.

Heather shrugged. “Almost a year I've been working here. You get to know the regulars, believe me.” The girl frowned at the sound of a persistent bell from the kitchen, then spun away, bluebird-trimmed apron rustling.

“I could have told you Heather didn't work here when Tina did.”

“I'd rather find out for myself.”

He shrugged. “I figured.” He dipped the spoon into his soup.

“Attorneys prefer to ask the questions.” She took a spoonful, and rich chicken flavor exploded in her mouth, chasing away the chill. “It's in my blood, I'm afraid.”

“A whole family of lawyers?” He sounded as if that were the worst fate he could imagine.

“Just my father. He has a corporate practice in Hartford.”

“Your mother's not a lawyer, too?”

She tried to imagine her mother doing anything so mundane, and failed. “My mother's social life keeps her occupied. And I don't have any brothers or sisters.” The last thing she wanted to discuss right now was her parents. Their reaction to Emilie had been predictable, but it had still hurt. “What about you? Big family?”

She'd thought the expression in his eyes chilly before; now it had frozen. “One brother. My mother died when I was in high school. My father was long gone by then.”

“I'm sorry.” She suspected pain moved behind the mask he wore, but he'd never show it, not to her, probably not to anyone. “That must have made you and your brother very close.”

He shrugged. “Link works heavy construction, mostly out west. He hasn't been back to Bedford Creek in a couple of years.”

Anne's heart constricted. Loneliness. She recog
nized the symptoms. He probably wouldn't believe her if she said she knew how he felt. He probably wouldn't believe having wealthy parents who'd stayed married to each other didn't guarantee a happy family life. Didn't guarantee you wouldn't marry someone just like them. She felt the familiar regret that her marriage hadn't been…more, somehow. Deeper.

By the time their apple dumplings arrived, most of the crowd had filtered out of the café. Anne took one look at the immense dumpling, served in its own small iron skillet, and swallowed hard.

Her face must have given her away, because Mitch chuckled. “Somebody should have warned you, I guess. But you have to make a stab at it, because Cassie will be out to see how you like it.”

“That's more dessert than I eat in a month.”

Mitch plunged his fork into flaky pastry, and apple syrup spurted out, mixing with the mound of whipped cream. “Live dangerously. It's worth it.”

The first taste melted in her mouth. By the time Cassie appeared, ready to accept applause, Anne had made a respectable dent in the dumpling.

“Wonderful, absolutely wonderful.” She leaned back in her chair. “I couldn't eat another bite.”

Cassie's thin lips creased in what might have been a smile. “I'll wrap it up for you. You can finish it later.”

There was nothing to do but smile and nod. “I'll do that. It was just as good as I'd heard it was.”

Cassie smoothed her apron. “You hear that from Mitch?”

“It might have been Mitch who told me. Or it might have been a friend of mine who used to work here. Maybe you remember her. Tina Mallory?”

Cassie frowned. “Little bit of a thing? Big blue eyes?”

“Yes, that's Tina.” She held her breath. Was she about to find out something?

“Let's see…it wasn't this past season. One before, I guess. Good waitress. What's she up to now?”

“I'm afraid she passed away a few months ago.”

“A kid like that?” Cassie shook her head. “You just never know, do you? I'm sorry to hear it.”

“I'd hoped to meet her friends while I'm here in Bedford Creek. Do you know of anyone she was especially close to…a boyfriend, maybe?”

The woman sniffed. “Got enough to do without keeping track of the summer help's boyfriends, believe me. Can't recall anybody offhand. She came in, did her job, got along with the customers. None of my business who she hung out with after work.”

Anne's hope shriveled with each word. It looked as if this would be a dead end, like so much about Tina. “If you think of anyone, would you let me know?”

“If I do.”

Cassie's tone said she doubted it. Apparently Tina
had passed through Cassie's life without leaving a trace.

She picked up the dumpling pans. “I'll put this in a box for you.”

When she'd gone, Anne met Mitch's gaze. His look was unexpectedly sympathetic.

“Sorry. I know you hoped she'd remember something.”

“It's a small town. I thought everyone knew everything in a small town.”

“They do, believe me.” There was an edge to Mitch's words. “But that's only regarding the other locals. When the town is flooded with tourists and summer help, you might not notice your best friend on the street.”

She still found that hard to picture, but apparently it was true. If so, the chances of finding anyone who remembered anything about Tina had diminished.

“You think I ought to give up.” That was what he had in mind; she was sure of it.

He shrugged. “I think you ought to leave it to me. But I suspect you're not going to.”

“If you—” She stopped, realizing Cassie had emerged from the kitchen with the leftover dumpling.

“There you go.” Cassie deposited the package in front of her, patting it as if it were a pet. “And I thought of something. About that friend of yours.”

Anne struggled to keep the eagerness from her
voice. “Did you remember someone who knew her?”

“In a manner of speaking. Seems to me she roomed with another one of the summer waitresses—girl named Marcy Brown.”

“Is she here?”

Cassie shook her head almost before the words were out of her mouth. “Summer help, that's all she was. Went off at the end of the season. None of those girls stick around once the season's over. No jobs for them.”

Anne tried to swallow her disappointment. “Do you know where she went from here?”

“Seems to me she was headed someplace warm for the winter. Key West, I think it was.” Cassie's expression showed disapproval. “Those kids…they just flit from place to place. I might have an address for her, if I had to send her last check, but she's probably long gone by now.”

“I'd like to have it just the same, if you can find it.”

The woman nodded. “See what I can do, when I have the time.” She frowned. “There was one other thing.”

“What's that?”

“Seems to me both those girls got into that singles group Pastor Richie had at Grace Church. Maybe someone there kept up with her.”

“Thank you.” She was past worrying about what Cassie thought of her interest. “I appreciate it.”

It was something. Not much, but a little something that just might lead somewhere.

And as for the frown in Mitch's brown eyes…well, it wasn't unexpected, was it. She'd just have to live with his disapproval, because it probably wouldn't change.

So, it looked as if he'd been wrong about how helpful Cassie might be. But then, Mitch had been wrong about a lot of things since the moment Anne walked into his life.

Those blue eyes of hers were intent on her prize. This lead to Tina's friend would encourage her. If he didn't get control of her search, she'd be chasing it all over Bedford Creek. And sooner or later someone would find out why.

“I suppose you want to rush off to Pastor Richie right now.”

“Maybe not this precise moment. But it is a lead to Tina's roommate.”

“That was eighteen months ago. The chance that Pastor Richie knows where to find this Marcy Brown isn't very great.”

“I have to try.”

A stubborn look firmed her mouth, and he suppressed the urge to smooth it away with his finger. That would really be counterproductive.

“Look, I know Simon Richie. Why don't you let me talk to him?”

“How do you know him?”

She'd probably think this coincidence suspicious, but it couldn't be helped. “Because I go to Grace Church.”