Forever Fall (5 page)

The hair on Mandy’s neck stood on end. This was the very thing she hoped the introduction of the baby simulators into the school’s curriculum would solve. “Has anyone tried to speak to her, make her see reason?”

“Oh my, yes. I have, her mother and father have, and even her clergy. Still she insists that she wants to have a baby. I don’t think she understands exactly why she feels the need for a child at fifteen, but I do. She and her parents are not getting along. Her boyfriend is most likely leaving for a West Coast college next year. She’s feeling abandoned, unloved. She thinks a baby will not only fill the void, but help her escape her unhappy home life. Little does she know that her parents, my daughter and son-in-law, would never tolerate the stigma
they
feel this would attach to their family.”

Glancing first at a thoughtful Luc, Mandy leaned forward. “
They
feel? I take it you don’t agree.”

“No. That’s the kind of reasoning that ruled decades ago. This is a new age, when things like that are no longer frowned upon. However, Shannon is underage, and she has no idea how the child would and could ruin her life. Nor does she understand that, aside from depriving herself of an education and a social life, she would have to endure the agony of having to give the child up.” She shook her head. “Her parents are about as straight-laced as they come. They would never insist on abortion, since neither of them believes in it, but they’ve confided in me that once the baby entered this world, they’d see to it that Shannon never saw the child again.”

Luc frowned. Leaning forward and propping his elbows on the table, he centered his gaze on Catherine. “Since the board and you seemed intent on secrecy, with which I totally agree, where then would this
experiment
take place?” He liked
experiment
better than
test
. It made this whole thing seem less like a final exam.

“My lake house,” Catherine said without hesitation. Once more, her gaze went to the lake. “Lake Hope is three miles long. At the far end, the least developed because I still own a fair share of it, there is a very comfortable house. I only use it on my birthday. The rest of the year, it stands vacant.”

Luc nodded and let his gaze drift to the lake.

Mandy kept her attention on Catherine. “There’s more to this than just saving your granddaughter, isn’t there?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Luc’s gaze snap back to them.

The older woman smiled at Mandy. “You are very perceptive, my dear.” She sighed. “Yes, there is a great deal more to it.”

Intuition told Mandy that what Catherine had withheld was personal. In which case, they had no right prying into it. “If you don’t want to share it with us, that’s fine. We have all the information we need.”

“Not quite. Aside from it ruining her life, I don’t want Shannon to have to bear the pain and regret of giving up a child.” Catherine hesitated for a few seconds and said, “Hope was my daughter. She was born at the lake house in 1959 on my seventeenth birthday. Back in the fifties, having a child out of wedlock was heavily frowned upon. And the humiliation would have killed my parents.” Her voice faltered, and her gaze clouded with memories. “They allowed me to hold her for a few minutes.” She flashed her luncheon companions a watery smile. “She was so lovely. So tiny. So
 . . . .
” She took a deep, fortifying breath. “I’ve searched for her for years, but I never saw her again.”

Luc had excused himself from the lunch right after they’d settled on the time and place for the test to begin—Catherine’s lake house, next Monday, four days from now. Catherine had assured him she would see to it that he got a two week leave of absence from his job, but that he would be on call for emergencies. Mandy would have to work over the weekend to get everything in her office in order, but if she could accomplish her goal, then it was worth every minute of overtime.

She and Catherine had lingered in the restaurant, sipped coffee, talked about trivial things and avoided the subject Mandy really wanted to discuss, Catherine’s daughter. When she decided that Catherine had said all she planned on saying on the subject, Mandy had gone back to work.

Unable to clear her mind of the look of unfathomable pain and loss on Catherine Daniels’ face when she’d talked about Hope, Mandy had driven the long way around the lake. By the time she parked behind the Social Services building, it was well after three, and she still hadn’t been able to shake the awful blanket of despondency that Catherine’s admission had cast over her.

When Mandy got to her office, she tried to concentrate on the work that needed to be finished before the test began, but found it impossible. All she could think about was the pain in Catherine’s eyes and voice when she talked about her daughter. If only she could do something to help her, but she couldn’t do it without help, and that would mean divulging Catherine’s secret. Maybe she could
 . . . .

“Ahem.”

Mandy roused from her thoughts to find her boss, Rebecca Hart, smiling down at her from the other side of her cluttered desk. She wore her usual casual attire, a pair of faded jeans and a white, Oxford shirt. But her sparkling green eyes and her cheery face, framed by cascading waves of red hair, held warmth and friendliness that drew an observer’s gaze and silently told of her warm heart and concern for their clients.

“So, how was lunch with the rich and famous?”

Mandy played it down. “It was lunch.”

“You eat in the most exclusive restaurant in three counties and all you can say is ‘it was lunch’?” Becky pushed aside a pile of folders, then sat on the corner of Mandy’s desk. “Okay, spill it. Why the frown?”

“Thinking.”

“Uh oh,” Becky said, shaking her head. “When you think, it always makes work for me. Last time it was finding that Morris girl a home.”

Mandy flashed her boss a smile. “You were just as eager to get her out of that house as I was. If we hadn’t pulled out all the stops to get her away from that abuse, they’d be fitting her for a body bag. Face it, boss, you’re a real softie when it comes to kids.”

Picking up Mandy’s pen, Becky clicked the point out and began drawing concentric circles on her memo pad. “I know what you’re doing, you know?”

Mandy froze. Had her boss heard about the test somehow? “You do?”

“Yup. You’re trying to make everyone think I’m a good guy, and it isn’t gonna work.” She scribbled through the circles. “The word is out that I’m an ogre. Just ask my husband.”

Removing her best pen from Becky before she adopted it as she usually did any pen she got her hands on, Mandy grinned. “He’s so in love with you, I’m sure he thinks you’re flawless.” She took a deep breath and voiced the question she knew had to come. “Becky, I’m going to need to take a couple of weeks off.” While Becky mulled her request over, Mandy thought about her boss.

No one had to make Becky Hart look good, either morally or physically. She ran a casual office, no suits or pantyhose required. Both she and Mandy usually wore jeans, a nice blouse and sneakers to work. But as casual as she was with her appearance, Becky ran an efficient office. The first one there in the morning and the last to leave at night, she could be called at any time in between to help a child out of a bad home situation or counsel a parent. While she worked tirelessly for the welfare of a child, she also worked to keep the family units in one piece. The difference between her and too many people working in Social Services was that Becky genuinely cared what happened to the people she came in contact with. That her paycheck did not finance Paris vacations didn’t enter her mind. Becky was special, somewhat of a rarity when compared to some of the other social workers Mandy had come up against.

“Becky?”

“I’m not sure I can say yes. I have to check the schedule and see what’s coming up. Where’re you going?”

Mandy shook her head. “Nowhere special, just taking a little R and R at a friend’s house out on Lake Hope.”

“Well, as long as you aren’t leaving town, I’ll give you a qualified yes. I still have to check the schedule. Would you be able to come in a day or two if needed?”

Mandy nodded. She’d only be on the other side of the lake. “Sure, and thanks.”

Hesitating before she went on, Mandy played with the pen, clicking the point in and out, until it even got on her nerves. Opening her desk drawer, she stuck the pen away, beyond both hers and Becky’s reach.

“I appreciate it
 . . . .
” She hated being evasive with her boss. Becky had been very good to her since she’d come to Carson. But the board had made it very clear that this test was to be kept strictly under wraps. No one was to know except the school board, Luc and her. She couldn’t risk messing this up because her conscience hurt.

Becky leaned down and looked at Mandy’s face half hidden behind a cascade of auburn hair. “Do I hear a but?”

Mandy glanced at her. “There
is
something else.”

“I knew it. Let me out of here,” Becky said, making as if to sneak out of the office.

It’s now or never, Mandy girl
. “Do you think you could find someone for me?” she blurted before her nerve could desert her.

Becky’s retreat came to a sudden stop. “Depends. Who exactly are you looking for?”

Mandy sat forward, leaning her forearms on the stacks of paper covering her desk top. “This has to be kept totally on the QT. You have to promise not to say a word to anyone, especially anyone in this town. I shudder to think what Laureene Talbot would do with it if she got a hold of it.”

“They don’t call me lockjaw for nothing.” Becky’s face transformed into a smile.

Mandy just stared at her. “Promise me, Becky. Please?”

“Okay, okay, I promise.” Then the smile vanished, and she leaned her palms on the desk. “But why so serious?”

“Because, if what I’m about to tell you leaks out, this could do irreparable damage to a very prominent citizen of Carson.”

“Oh, geeze, Mandy, what have you gotten yourself into now?”

Mandy shook her head. “Nothing bad. It’s just
 . . .
just
 . . .
just something I
have
to do, but I need your help.” She took a deep breath. “I need to find Catherine Daniels’ illegitimate daughter.”

Becky’s jaw dropped. She slowly straightened and chewed on her lower lip, a habit she had adopted when faced with a troublesome dilemma. Mandy’s heart plummeted. By her expression, her boss had reservations about helping in the search for Hope.

“Catherine Daniels has an illegitimate child?”

Mandy nodded.

“Of all people, I never would have
 . . . .
” Becky shook her head. “You do realize you’re walking into a hornet’s nest here?”

Mandy nodded again.

“Did she ask you to do this?”

After a slight hesitation, Mandy murmured, “No.”

“Then why are you doing it? I don’t like the idea of you butting into Catherine Daniels’ private affairs. She could have your job in a blink of an eye. Besides, this girl may not want to be found.”

Mandy met Becky’s stern expression. “I know that, and if that’s the case, we will abide by her wishes and drop the whole thing. Since Catherine has no idea that I’m doing this, and just in case this blows up in my face, and the girl could care less who her real mom is, only you and I will be the wiser. But Catherine told me she’s been looking for her for years, so, if we do find Hope, and she is willing to meet with Catherine
 . . . .
” She was babbling to keep Becky from saying no. “If she isn’t, we can at least give her the information about her mother, and, if she ever changes her mind, she can come on her own. If we don’t find anything at all, then no one will ever know we even tried. But if we do
 . . . .
” Mandy looked Becky dead in the eye. “If we do, Catherine Daniels will be one of the happiest women alive and
 . . . .
” She emphasized the
and
. “If you’d seen the look on her face, the pain when she told me about Hope, you’d know she’ll be eternally grateful.”

“Eternally grateful, huh?” Becky’s brows furrowed in thought.

Mandy knew Becky was mulling over the fundraiser they’d talked about last week to start a shelter for abused women. When her expression showed definite interest, Mandy knew the carrot she’d dangled before the hungry social worker had done its job. She held her breath.

Becky stared at her for a very long moment. “That’s a lot of
ifs
, Mandy.” She looked to the ceiling as though seeking divine guidance, then back to Mandy. “You’re sure Catherine wants to find this girl?”

“Trust me on this, Becky. She’s been searching for years. I saw her face when she talked about her. I don’t believe there is anything that Catherine Daniels wants more.”

Becky blew out a long breath. She propped both hands on her hips, a stance Mandy knew well as her let’s-get-this-show-on-the-road posture. Her heart lifted.

“I won’t guarantee anything, but
 . . . .
” Then she grinned. “Oh, what the heck, let’s go for it.”

Luc’s day hadn’t gone well
after he left Catherine and Mandy. He’d just sat down at his desk and started to make a dent in the pile of work awaiting him when the door opened. His secretary barely had time to announce the unscheduled arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Tanner, Jeb Tanner’s parents, before they pushed her aside and came rushing into his office.

“Michaels.” Jeb’s father, the town’s mechanic, and his wife brought with them the odor of motor oil. “We need to talk.”

Four words that always shot apprehension through Luc when coming from a parent. Luc extended his hand to the man. “Harry. Linda,” he added, nodding at Harry’s wife. “Please,” he said, gesturing toward the empty chairs facing his desk, “have a seat.” Once everyone was settled, he leaned back in his chair. “What can I do for you, Harry?”

“You can stop trying to divert Jeb’s attention away from getting that athletic scholarship. He told us what you said about his grades. Right now, with the UCLA scout hot after Carson’s star quarterback, Jeb needs to concentrate on his game. The grades can come later.”

Luc had to bite his tongue to keep from giving the man a quick lesson on scholastic priorities. When would the people of Carson learn that being able to run a football over a goal line didn’t qualify their sons for anything other than a career as a professional athlete. Didn’t they realize that with one injury that career could end as quickly as it had begun? That without an education, the benched athlete would have nothing to fall back on?

Harry Tanner leaned forward. “I’ll level with you, Michaels. If Jeb doesn’t get that scholarship, he can kiss college goodbye. There’s no way I can send him on what I make at the garage.” He glanced at his wife, then back to Luc. “I don’t want my kid working his fingers to the bone in some factory or some
 . . .
garage, then bringing home just enough to make ends meet.” His wife took his hand, squeezed it and smiled, as if reassuring him that what he did for a living was good, honest work. “If he gets the scholarship, then he has a chance of getting a decent job.”