Desperately Seeking Dad (7 page)

“I met so many people last night. Your congregation is so friendly to a stranger. It made me feel at home.”

“You're from Philadelphia.” The woman made it a statement, as if docketing facts. “Kate told me that. But she didn't say why you're here.”

Anne edged an inch farther from that blatant curiosity. “Didn't she?”

Enid Lawrence shook her head with an affronted look, as if she had a right to every morsel of knowledge she could collect. “She didn't. It's not to see Chief Donovan, I hope?”

Anne weighed the probable results of outright rudeness in deterring the woman and decided even that wouldn't work. “Not exactly,” she evaded. “Bedford Creek is so charming. I understand you have quite a lot of visitors.”

“Tourists.” She sniffed. “But I'm glad you're not here to see that Mitch Donovan.”

The venom in the woman's voice startled her. Everyone she'd met thus far seemed devoted to Mitch. Enid Lawrence seemed to be the exception.

Enid apparently took silence for interest. “He's not really one of us, you know.”

“One of us?” She'd certainly had the impression Mitch had grown up in Bedford Creek. What was the woman driving at?

“He's a Donovan.” Enid sniffed again. “Everyone in town knows what the Donovans are like. Worthless, the lot of them. The father would steal anything that wasn't nailed down, and those boys were just as bad. Carousing, getting into one scrape
after another. Troublemakers, both of them. As for the mother and her drinking…”

The venom had spilled out so quickly that Anne hadn't had time to react. Suddenly revulsion ripped through her with an almost physical shudder. She got up quickly. “I'm afraid I have to go.”

Enid frowned. “I'm just telling you because you're a newcomer. I wouldn't want you to be taken in.”

“I don't care to discuss Chief Donovan with you.” Her anger surprised her. Shouldn't she be taking the opportunity to find out anything she could about Mitch? Instead, she felt the need to defend him.

The woman rose, bringing her eyes to a level with Anne's. “Fine, if that's all the thanks I get for taking an interest. Mitch Donovan wouldn't even be here if Alex Caine didn't owe him something.”

Anne managed to get the stroller out from beside the bench, her hands shaking a little. “Excuse me, please.”

She swung the stroller around and set off downhill, heels clicking in her rush to get away from the woman. No wonder Alex Caine had intervened last night. The woman was absolutely poisonous.

Her words trickled through Anne's mind. Mitch was not trustworthy—that was the gist of it. The woman was convinced Mitch was no good, apparently because of his father's reputation.

Unfair,
her instincts shouted. That was unfair. The
woman had no right blackening Mitch's reputation because of what his father had done.

But she'd also talked about trouble Mitch and his brother had gotten into, had implied that made him not trustworthy. Trusting him was what she was about to do. And it was something she didn't do easily.

Her impetuous charge down the hill had already brought her to the police station. If she saw Mitch while Enid Lawrence's bitter words echoed in her ears… Fair or not, she just couldn't do it. She'd have to go back to the house and think this over.

“Anne.” Mitch opened the door and held it for her. “I've been watching for you. Come in.”

She could feel herself flushing. “It was nothing important. I don't need to bother you now.”

His brown eyes seemed to frost over. He stepped onto the walk and closed the door. “Don't you mean you've just had an interesting discussion with Enid Lawrence?”

She felt as guilty as if she'd sought out the woman. “How did you know she was talking to me?”

He jerked his head toward the bench outside the pharmacy. “I was watching for you to come back. I saw your little chat.”

“I certainly didn't instigate it.”

“You didn't avoid it, either.” His jaw looked tight.

Her faint feelings of guilt changed to anger. “I
walked away from her, in case you didn't notice. I'm not interested in gossip, even if—”

“Even if it supports the things you'd like to believe about me?”

His expression froze as a passerby eyed them. She seized a chance to gain control.

“I didn't go looking for the woman.” She lowered her voice. “I'm not soliciting gossip about you, if that's what you think.”

That probably was exactly how it looked, and there wasn't a thing she could do about it.

Or maybe there was.

The words pressed on her lips, wanted to be said. She could take the woman seriously or not. If she didn't, there was an easy way to prove it, by asking for his help.

She took a deep breath. “Now can we forget Enid Lawrence?” She wasn't sure she could, but she wanted to try. “I need your help. I want you to help me find Marcy Brown.”

A few minutes later they walked back toward the house together, in tacit agreement that the subject was better discussed away from the station.

Anne looked carefully at her feelings. Could she forget Enid's poisoned words?

“Worried about it?”

She glanced up at Mitch, startled and guilty, then realized he was talking about the roommate, not about what Enid had said.

“No, not worried, exactly.” She could hardly tell
him she was trying to sort out her opinion of him. “Concerned about the time element, I suppose. How will you try to find Marcy?”

“Plenty of ways to track people down.” He frowned. “The trouble is, this isn't a police case. It limits what I can do.”

That hadn't occurred to her. “What
can
you do?” She hoped her question didn't sound as sharp to him as it did to her. If he couldn't or wouldn't use police resources, what good had it done to ask him?

“Believe me, if people knew how easy it is to get information on them, they'd be shocked. I can follow up on her social security number and credit reports, for a start.”

“That should lead somewhere, surely. It's not as if the woman is trying to hide from us. She doesn't know we're looking for her.”

“We'll find her.” He slowed while she eased the stroller over a bump in the walk. “I just hope she knows something useful.”

“Girlfriends do talk to each other.”

He nodded. “That's about what Alex said. He thinks Tina had to have confided in someone, and who better than her roommate.”

“I hope we're both right.” She stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets. “He surprised me last night. When I realized you'd told him, I mean.”

“We don't keep many secrets from each other.”

It was much the same thing Alex had said. “He told me he'd trusted you with his life.” She hadn't
intended to say that, and knew it sounded like prying.

“Ancient history.”

Enid had implied Alex's friendship was somehow owed to Mitch, and the thought left an acrid taste in her mouth. She didn't want to think that about either of them. She wanted to believe they were who they seemed to be.

“Is it something you can talk about?”

His gaze rested on her face for a long moment, then he shrugged. “If you want to hear it. It's not a big secret. Just some trouble we got into when—”

He stopped abruptly, then swung away from her. “Just a second.”

Before she could say a word, he'd vaulted over the picket fence in front of the house they were passing. He plunged into the shrubbery by the porch and emerged a second later with a wriggling captive. Davey Flagler.

Apparently Mitch's police instincts never shut off. That was something important to remember as she tried to understand him. He was always a cop.

G
reat.
As if things weren't already bad enough, now Davey had to act up again. Mitch tightened his grip on the boy, who wiggled like a fish on a hook.

He couldn't kid himself. Anne's opinion of him had probably taken a nosedive after her little chat with Enid Lawrence, and no wonder. He could just imagine what Enid had to say about him and his family.

Davey was going to make matters worse. Anne would go into her defense attorney mode; she wouldn't be able to stop herself. And they'd be adversaries again, armed with their own visions of what was right.

Well, it couldn't be helped. He had a job to do, and he was going to do it, regardless of what Anne thought of him.

“Trespassing, Davey?” He eyed the culprit. “You wouldn't have been thinking about that package on Mrs. Jefferson's porch, now would you?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Sullen black eyes stared up at him. “You're crazy.”

Over the boy's head he caught the flicker of surprise that crossed Anne's face. She hadn't noticed the package, any more than she'd noticed the kid. Being a cop had heightened his ability to register what other people didn't.

“Crazy?” He glared at Davey. “I'd be crazy to take your word for anything. Go ahead, tell me what you were doing in Mrs. Jefferson's yard.”

“I wasn't after any package.” Davey nearly spat the words at him. “I thought I heard a cat.”

He could almost see the wheels turning in Davey's brain as he tried to come up with a plausible story. At least the kid wasn't an accomplished liar—yet.

“It looked like it was hurt.” Davey put on a righteous expression that wouldn't have convinced the most gullible person in the world. “I was just trying to help. You always think I'm doing something wrong.”

“That's because you usually are.” Anger surged, and he shoved it down. A cop had no right to feel anger. That wasn't part of his job. Mitch didn't know why Davey set off a firestorm within him every time he dealt with the kid, but he had to stay detached.

“The boy didn't actually take anything, as far as I can tell.”

Anne's intervention didn't do a thing to douse his anger. “Only because I grabbed him first,” he said, tightening his grip as Davey wiggled again. “Guess I'll have to speak to the delivery man about leaving things on porches. Looks like that's just too much temptation.”

“You're declaring him guilty without any evidence at all.” Anne's eyes shot angry sparks. “You don't know what was in his mind.”

“Just stay out of it, Counselor. I don't need advice on how to do my job.”

“Maybe you do. You can't accuse someone of something that hasn't been done yet.”

“Look, this isn't the big city.” Anne would never understand what things were like in a small town. Or why.

“Believe me, I'm only too aware of that. You wouldn't get away with this there—not without someone filing a complaint, anyway.”

He counted to ten. It didn't help. “A cop in a small town is different. People expect us to anticipate trouble, and most times we can. And they expect us to prevent it, not wait around until it happens.”

He had a sudden mental image of himself explaining, talking too much in front of the kid, and knew it was because he wanted Anne to think well of him. And that was probably an impossible goal.

“You can't—” she began.

“Yes, I can.”

He turned to the still squirming boy. He had to concentrate on his job, not on what Anne thought of him.

“I want to see you and your father at the station tomorrow, right after school.”

“But my dad might have to work. Or maybe—”

“No excuses, just be there. Because if you're not, I'll come after you. Got it?”

Davey's mouth set, and he nodded.

Mitch released his grip. Davey didn't bother trying to act macho. He just ran.

Mitch watched him go, then turned back to Anne, knowing he'd see condemnation in her eyes.

“I suppose you're proud of yourself, bullying a boy like that.”

“What do you know about ‘a boy like that'?” His anger flared again, startling him.

“I know anyone would respond better to kindness than to threats.”

“Kindness!” She didn't understand. She never would. “Let me tell you what it's going to take for Davey Flagler to turn into a decent citizen instead of winding up in big trouble. He's going to have to work harder, perform better, be smarter than anyone else, because he's starting a lot of steps behind. And he won't do that if people make excuses for him.”

Anne looked at him for a long moment, blue eyes
blazing in a white face. “Are you talking about Davey Flagler? Or are you talking about yourself?”

She didn't wait for an answer. She walked away quickly, head high, pushing the stroller toward Kate's place and leaving Mitch fuming.

Hours later Anne slowed as she approached the front porch of Mitch's house. She stopped just beyond the pool of light from the street lamp. When she'd told Kate she needed to talk to Mitch, Kate had been only too eager to watch Emilie for her.

The windows of his small house glowed with a warm yellow light. She shivered, huddling a little deeper into her jacket. The temperature had dropped like a stone the moment the sun went down, and the stars were crystalline in a black sky.

She couldn't stand out here in the dark and the cold. She might as well march right up to the door and get this over with.

Her cheeks went hot in spite of the cold air. She couldn't believe she'd spoken to Mitch the way she had. Even if she had been right, they didn't have the kind of relationship that allowed her to say something so personal.

Lord, I'm sorry. I let my temper get the better of me again. I acted as if I knew what was right for everyone.

Confessing her mistake was one step in the right direction. Now she had to tell Mitch. She bit her lip. She had to tell him, because that was the right thing
to do. It was also the only way to get things back on an even keel between them. That was all she wanted.

She went quickly up the steps and rang the bell.

Mitch opened the door, a dark bulk against the light behind him in the hallway. She couldn't make out his expression, which might be just as well.

“Anne. I'm surprised to see you.”

He said the words in such a neutral tone that she didn't know what to make of his mood. “I came over to apologize.” It was better just to blurt it out. “I said things I shouldn't have this afternoon, and I wouldn't want you to…”

The sentence died out. The problem was that she really did think she knew why he reacted to Davey as he did. She just didn't have the right to say so.

“Forget it.” He stepped back, opening the door wider. “Come in. You don't have to stand out there in the cold.”

“I shouldn't. I left Emilie with Kate, and I wouldn't want to impose.” And going into his house felt like stepping too far into his life.

He moved under the light. “I'll bet Kate is having the time of her life. If you come back too soon, she'll be disappointed.” He gestured. “Come in, please. We can't talk with you hovering on the doorstep.”

He was probably right about Kate. She stepped into the tiny hallway, and he closed the door behind her.

“In here.” He ushered her through an archway on the right. “Make yourself comfortable. I have coffee brewing.”

Before she could protest, he'd vanished through the door at the back of the hall. She shrugged, turned to the archway, and stopped in surprise. Whatever she'd expected of Mitch's house, it wasn't this.

Pale yellow walls and warm wooden wainscoting set off a living room that might have appeared in a country living magazine. The room was brightened with chintz; braided rugs accented the wide-paneled wooden floors. A fire burned cheerfully in the brick fireplace. It certainly didn't look like any bachelor's apartment she'd ever imagined.

She crossed slowly to the fireplace. It took a moment to realize what was missing. There were no family pictures. Mitch had a family-oriented room without any hint of family. In fact, only one photo graced the mantel. She moved closer, holding out her hands to the blaze, and looked at it.

Mitch, Brett and Alex. She should have expected that. They couldn't have been much more than high school age in the picture, but she recognized each of them at first glance. The photo had been taken outdoors, with the three of them lined up on a log.

“Looking at the three monkeys?” China mugs rattled on a tray as Mitch came in with the coffee. He put the tray on the coffee table and came to stand next to her.

Too close,
that was all she could think. He stood
too close for her peace of mind. He was dressed as casually as she'd ever seen him, in jeans and a cream sweater that made his skin glow. She couldn't breathe without inhaling the faint musky scent of his after-shave lotion.

She forced herself to concentrate on his words. “Why three monkeys? You mean like ‘hear no evil'?”

“Something like that. It's what Brett always calls that picture.”

Something almost sad touched his eyes as he looked at it, and she found herself wanting to know why. “You were pretty young there, weren't you?”

“Teenagers.” He shrugged. “Thought we had the world by the tail, like most kids that age.”

He gestured toward the couch, and she sat, then wished she'd taken the chair instead. He left a foot between them when he sat beside her, but it was still too close.

Businesslike,
she reminded herself.
You want to get things back on a nice, businesslike basis.

Then he smiled at her over his coffee mug, and her heart thumped out of rhythm. They were alone together. Maybe she should have brought the baby, as a sort of buffer between her and Mitch.

“I really am sorry.” She hurried into speech, because it seemed safer than sitting in silence.

“Forget it.”

“Have you?”

“No,” he replied.

She met his gaze, startled, and he gave her a rueful smile.

“I decided I'd better not forget it, because I think you're right.”

That smile was doing such odd things to her that she wasn't sure she could say anything intelligible. Luckily, he didn't seem to expect anything.

“I've been sitting here going over it. Trying to be angry.” He frowned into the flames. “Instead, I kept seeing Davey's face, thinking about his family. Wondering if you're right about me.” He shrugged. “It would account for a lot.”

“Your family…” She stopped, remembering the unpleasant things Enid had said about his family. About him.

His face seemed to freeze. “I could never count on my family for anything.”

“I'm sorry.” It seemed to be all she could say.

He reached forward, picking up a poker to shove a log into place. The flames leaped, casting flickering shadows on the strong planes of his face.

“When I look at Davey, I guess I see the kid I was. Running the streets with no one who cared enough to make me behave myself.”

Maybe it was safer to keep the focus on Davey, instead of on Mitch. “Does Davey have anyone?” she asked.

“Just his father.” His expression eased slightly. He'd probably much rather talk about Davey than himself. He leaned elbows on his knees, letting the
poker dangle. “Ed Flagler doesn't mistreat the boy, as far as we can tell. He just doesn't pay attention to him. Davey's headed for trouble if something doesn't change.”

Obviously she'd been wrong. He did care what happened to the boy.

“You're planning to talk to the father. Do you think you can get through to him? Make him see the damage he's doing to his son?”

“It's worth a try.” His mouth tightened into a grim, painful line. “At least he's still there. That counts for something.”

Pain gripped her heart suddenly, but it wasn't for Davey. It was for Mitch. He betrayed so clearly the lonely boy he'd been. Maybe he still hadn't admitted to himself how much his father's leaving had hurt him.

This house—she glanced at the room with new eyes. Mitch hadn't just bought a place because he was tired of renting. He'd created a home here—the home he'd never had before.

She cleared her throat, trying to suppress the tears that choked her. “If talking to the father doesn't do any good, what will you do about Davey?”

“Guess I can't just throw him in a cell.” He sent a sideways glance at her. “Some smart lawyer would probably get after me if I did that.”

“Probably,” she agreed.

“So I'm going to put him to work.”

“Work? Isn't he kind of young for that?”

He shrugged. “Never too early to learn the value of work, especially for a kid like Davey. I figure I'll offer to pay him for doing some odd jobs around the station, maybe even around here. That might make him see he doesn't have to steal if he wants something.”

He understood the child better than she'd thought. He was going to a lot of trouble for Davey.

“Better watch out. He might start looking up to you.”

His mouth quirked. “That'll be the day. Far as he's concerned, I'm the enemy.”

“It's pretty obvious the boy needs a role model. Maybe he's found one.”

Some emotion she couldn't identify shadowed his eyes. “I'm not setting myself up to be a substitute father. With the example my father set for me, I don't know how.”

There wasn't anything she could say to that, was there? But it was pretty clear that her goal of getting things back to a businesslike basis between them was doomed to failure.

The pain in her heart for the lonely boy who lurked inside him told her she'd already started to care too much.

What was the matter with him? He was saying things he'd never said to a living soul. Not even to Alex, though Alex probably guessed most of it. Somehow in a few short days, Anne Morden had
managed to touch a part of him he'd closed off a long time ago.