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Authors: Janet Taylor-Perry

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Suspense

Heartless (7 page)

BOOK: Heartless
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♥♥♥

Finally at the house, Parker stood in awe as he looked
around the massive restored antebellum home. His mouth
gaped slightly and his eyes bulged. He blinked several times.
Have I died and gone to Heaven?

Larkin took his hand. "Are you hungry?" she asked.
Parker could not help but smell the chicken. He nodded.

"Yes, ma'am."
"Come in the kitchen. Ray and I didn't finish dinner. We'll
eat together."
In the kitchen dining nook decorated in autumn colors with
rust-and-gold-striped wallpaper, Larkin indicated a dark oak
ladder-back, cane-bottom chair next to Ray's at the polished
table with four placemats of a fall leaf pattern. "Sit down, and
I'll get you a plate," she said.
Parker was not sure how to respond to someone's waiting
on him.
She's serving my plate? I must be dreaming.
While he
waited, he picked up the baby shoes that remained on the table.
"What are these?"
"Baby shoes," replied Larkin.
Ray rubbed his head again as the migraine was being
persistent. He reached for the prescription that sat on the table
and popped another pill.
"You okay?" asked Parker.
"Migraines."
"Yeah. I get 'em, too, but I don't have any pills. I just get
sick."
"We'll take care of that," Ray said as he patted Parker's
shoulder. "At your age, a healthy diet will make a huge
difference. If that doesn’t get rid of the headaches, we’ll try
some herbal remedies before we even think about medication.
Drugs will be a last resort."
Parker nodded. "Okay." Then he cut his eyes back to the
shoes.
"Larkin gave me the baby shoes as her way of telling me
we're having another baby," Ray explained.
"Wow!" said Parker. "You've had a full day, finding out
about your eldest and your youngest back to back. I saw the
pictures on the wall. You have two more?"
Ray nodded as Larkin placed terracotta stoneware plates in
front of the two men and sat down to her own.
"Where are they?" asked Parker.
"Spending the night with Raif because I wanted to tell Ray
about the baby," Larkin answered.
Drooping one eyelid, Parker voiced his doubt. "So, you
didn't send 'em away because of me?"
"No, Parker, I didn't even know about you when I sent them
to Raif's."
"Okay." Parker took a bite of the broccoli. He looked down
at his plate and up peripherally at the two adults. Suddenly, he
picked up the chicken breast and devoured it as if he had not
eaten in days.
A hand flying to her throat, Larkin asked, "Parker, when
did you last eat?"
Realizing how uncouth he must have seemed, Parker tried
to swallow before he answered. "On the thirteenth just after I
saw Mr. LaFontaine. I stole the ten bucks that was on his
desk."
"Damn it to hell!" shouted Ray as he slammed his hand
onto the table. "Did your mother ever take care of you or teach
you right from wrong?"
Parker sat far back in the chair, waiting to be hit. "It's all
right," Larkin said as she took Parker's grease covered hand.
"No, it's not!" screamed Ray as he stood.
"Ray!" said Larkin. "Sit down and stop it. You're scaring
the hell out of the kid."
Ray sat down but still talked loudly. "I'm sorry, but it
makes me
angry
to know my son has to steal to live, to eat.
Parker, I swear to God if I had known about you, this would
not be happening to you."
"Are you mad at me?" asked Parker, eyes round as saucers,
a slight tremor in his voice. "I can go back to the shelter.
Honestly, I'm okay there."
"No. No. I'm sorry. I'm not angry with you." He clenched
his fist and let it go. "I do want to know what has happened to
you. Did Mia
ever
take care of you?"
"When she wasn't coming off a high." Parker nodded.
"High?" Ray took several breaths. "She was using drugs?"
"Off and on. She was in and out of rehab. The first time the
judge took me away from her, I think I was three." Parker took
a bite the roll on his plate.
Ray and Larkin tried to eat and encouraged Parker to share
his story as he ate in a more reasonable manner. He ate every
bite on his plate before he talked. He seemed reluctant to
speak.
How much do I tell them? What if Ray turns out not to be
my father? Will they really let me stay here in this beautiful
place?
He looked around the cozy room.
Larkin said, "Talk to us, Parker. You don't have to be
afraid."
How does she know I'm scared?
"I'm not afraid," he said.
Ray placed his elbows on the table and tented his fingers,
putting his index fingers to his lips. "I'd be scared shitless."
"Really?" Parker asked.
"Really." Ray laced his fingers together and rested his chin
on them. "You know, I can find out facts from court records,
even a minor, but I want to hear about your life from you. We
will welcome you into our home, but I want to know a little bit
about you. So, it's up to you. Tell us your story, or I can just
snoop."
Trapped. Okay. You asked for it.
A tiny lopsided grin
played around his mouth.
"Mom had this boyfriend for a while. He took pretty good
care of me. Then, he disappeared. Mom went to rehab, and I
went to a foster home. That was the second one. I've been in
seven, no, eight. The last one was only a few days before I took
off. Mom would get clean, and I'd go back to live with her.
Then, she'd get high, and I'd go to another home."
Parker held tightly to Larkin's hand as if holding on to her
would keep him safe. "Her boyfriend came back when I was
eleven. His name was Fritz. He used to say he was 'Fritz the
Cat.' When he came back, I didn't recognize him. He was
cleaned up and clean. He had cut his ponytail and wore decent
clothes. He told Mom if she'd get her act together, he'd take us
to New York with him. A few days later, he came to my bed."
"He what?" Ray interrupted, his voice an octave higher
than normal.
"No, no, not like
that
." Parker waved his hand. "There was
just a curtain separating my cot from the sleeper sofa. The
apartment was basically one big room and a bathroom. Mom
and Fritz used the sleeper. He came over and sat down on the
cot. He mussed my hair the way he always did. He told me he
was leaving. He explained that if he stayed, Mom would only
pull him back into the heroin. He left me a phone number. I
still have it." He pulled a ragged wallet from his pocket and
took out a scrap of paper. "He told me to call if things got
unbearable and he would come and take me away."
"Why didn't you call?"
"He wasn't my father." His eyes darted to the ceiling. "I
always wanted to meet my father."
A half-truth. Why lie now when he's been so honest?
Ray
closed his eyes to stop unwanted tears. "Go on," he whispered.
"Well, when Fritz left, I checked on Mom. She was high
again. That was the fifth time I went to a foster home.
"Not all the foster homes were horrible. Miss Maxi was
nice. She had four boys living with her. She took good care of
us."
"It’s good to hear some of them were decent," Larkin said.
Parker nodded. "The others were tough, especially the last
one, no next to last. The Byrds were awful—Guy and Mitzi. I
spent three months with them. I finally hit back and got sent to
juvey."
"They hit you?" asked Ray. "Define hit."
"Are you asking if it was spanking?"
Ray nodded.
"No. I got a few paddlings in school. This was not
spanking. I can show you if you want."
"There's something to
show
me?" Ray gripped the edge of
the table.
Parker looked at Larkin. He seemed to draw support from
her.
Weird
, ran through his mind.
"Show us," she said with a nod.
Letting go of Larkin's hand, Parker started to slip his t-shirt
over his head. "I'm not real comfortable with this."
"Just lift the edges. You don't have to take it all the way
off," Larkin said in an encouraging, coaxing tone.
Parked took a deep breath and lifted one side of the shirt. It
did not take much to realize he had been beaten with some kind
of strap that had broken the skin and left scars on his back and
rib cage.
Larkin could read the fury in Ray's face. "Ray, calm down,"
she warned.
"I'll kill the bastard," muttered Ray through clenched teeth.
"Ray, let Parker finish telling us his story. Parker, honey,
what did you do to get sent to juvey the first time?"
How much can I shock them? Do I want to get sent
packing? I have nowhere to go, but Ray will search my record.
At least if I talk, I can tell my side.
"Stealing. It was always
stealing. A couple of breaking and enterings."
Ray interrupted, "You weren't armed, were you?"
"No!" Parker shook his head. "Unless you consider the
crowbar I used to pry open the window a weapon." He began to
fidget. "Mom couldn't keep a job. I had to eat, and I had to help
Mom."
"You got money for her drugs?" Larkin asked for
clarification.
"Sometimes. Other times, I just raided people's
refrigerators."
"Oh, dear, God," moaned Ray, dropping his face into his
hands.
I'm too tired to deal with this shit.
"But I didn't steal the motorcycle," Parker declared. "I
really did buy her, and I really did fix her up. She sort of kept
me out of trouble."
"Yeah, a hobby will do that," said Ray, hoping Larkin
wasn't reading his mind.
I have every intention of tracking
down Mia Godchaux and wringing her neck.
Ray tried to keep
the conversation going. He asked, "Well, Parker, do I have any
grandchildren anywhere?"
"No. They don't put boys and girls together in juvey, and,
let's face it, I've never been Mr. Popularity."
Larkin had to cover her mouth not to laugh at the response.
"Well, obviously you're straight." She winked at Parker. "And
drug free," she added.
"You bet. I don't ever wanna be like Mom."
Larkin patted Parker's hand. "Good. Now, we have a nice
guest room with its own bath. You're not much bigger than
Christopher. I think his pajamas will fit you, even if they're a
little short. I'm going to raid his closet."
Parker became very self-conscious again. He raised his arm
and sniffed. "Do I stink, Larkin?" he asked.
"Actually, no, but a hot bath and a clean bed will make you
feel a whole lot better." She shook her head. "After you get
comfy, come back and have some anniversary cake for
dessert."
"When was your anniversary?"
"The thirteenth."
"Okay. Thanks. Lead the way."
Parker started to follow Larkin before Ray stopped him.
"Parker, wait a sec. Who was that awful foster family?"
"The Byrds."
"And you saw LaFontaine when?"
"The thirteenth—on your anniversary."
"Parker, who was your social worker?"
"Oh, that fat woman. What was her name?" He scratched
his head. "Ms. Vaughn. But not this last time. I had a nice
young lady, Miss Stamper. She put me with the Taggarts.
That's the one I ran away from."
"And who was your judge?"
"Salus,
every
time." He puffed out a long sigh. "I never got
lucky and got the lady judge. Ray, why are you asking me
these questions?"
"Don't worry about it." He waved his hand and shook his
head. "I just want to know."
"Okay. Can I go take a bath now?"
"Yeah, go ahead. I'll slice us all some cake with a glass of
cold milk. See you in a few minutes."
Parker left with Larkin, and Ray prayed
. God, please, don't
let Parker be the connection. He has had enough of a hardknock life. Lord, I know he's mine, but even if he's not, let me
take care of him now.

9
Acceptance

Very early the next morning Larkin tiptoed out the front
door as Ray got the morning newspaper. "What are you
doing?" Ray asked. "You look as if you still feel awful."

"
I’m queasy, but I’ll live." She held up a note pad. "I
confess—I went through Parker’s backpack. He’s still asleep.
Don’t leave until I get back, and don't wake him."

"Why?" He gave her a stern look.
"Let’s just say he was wearing his
best
jeans last night. The
stores are already opening early for the holidays at our little
outlet mall. I’m going shopping. Give me an hour."
"You’re going to spoil him."
"You bet." She gave her husband a quick kiss and rushed to
her car.

♥♥♥

Parker awoke in a warm, inviting room. He could not
remember ever waking up in a place so pleasant and felt certain
he was dreaming. There was no clock to tell the time, but he
smelled sausage frying. Getting out of bed, he realized there
were new jeans and a shirt across the back of the chair at the
antique dressing table in the room. He touched the clothes
carefully and checked the tags. They were his size and a brand
that he never had been able to afford. On the dressing table sat
a bag which contained more clothes, sneakers, personal items,
and a card which read:

Parker,
Ifyoudon'tiehem,we'lakehembck.
Larkin

"Not like them?" Parker said aloud.
What kind of woman is
this to accept me so readily? What kind of man is this that I've
been deprived of my whole life? They came to find me last
night
. He suddenly felt excited to get downstairs and see these
people. He dressed quickly and bounced into the kitchen.

"Well, hello," Larkin said, a broad smile on her face. "Did
you sleep well?"
"Yes, very. What time is it?"
"Almost noon, but that's okay. It's Saturday. Do you like
French toast?"
"I've never had it."
Her dark-chocolate colored eyes wide, she asked, "Are you
serious?"
He nodded, looking a bit sheepish.
"You're going to love it." Larkin placed the French toast,
sausage, syrup, and orange juice on the table. Parker watched
what she did and followed her example. The first bite was
heavenly. He moaned and closed his eyes. Larkin winked when
he opened his eyes again. "I told you."
"It's delicious."
"So, eat up."
"Thank you for the clothes. How could I not like them?"
"So, you do like them, then?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said around another bite.
"Good. We'll have to get you some more."
Parker looked around, a small disappointed scowl on his
face. "Where's Ray?" he asked.
"He went into the office. You know he
has
to be involved
in solving Robert LaFontaine's murder."
"LaFontaine's what?" He paused in putting another forkful
of breakfast in his mouth. Syrup dripped back onto his plate.
"Murder." She tilted her head to the side. Her wavy auburn
hair draped over her shoulder. "You didn't know he was dead?"
Parker shook his head. "No, ma'am."
"Yes. He was murdered the evening of the thirteenth."
His face blanched and his mouth dropped open. The fork
clattered onto the plate. "Does Ray think
I
did it?"
"What?" Larkin's brow knitted in concern. "No, honey.
Why would you ask that?"
"Because I went to see him. I told Ray he refused to have a
paternity test and he wasn't a nice person. I've been in and out
of jail." Parker’s hands shook. He pushed his long hair behind
his ears, his eyes darting around the room as if he might bolt.
"Robert
wasn't
a nice person," affirmed Larkin. "And he
was a fool to reject you. I agree with you. Ray doesn't think
I
killed Robert." She touched her chest. "No, honey." Larkin
patted his hand in motherly comfort. "You're perfectly safe
here. Ray will do everything in his power to protect you."
Sensing his distress, she changed the subject. "Parker, by
Monday we'll know for certain if Ray is your father. I think he
is. You have his eyes."
"Robert had blue eyes," said Parker his voice heavy with
doubt.
"Not like yours and Ray's. When we have proof, Ray wants
to file for custody of you. We need to get you enrolled in
school. Are you a senior?"
"Believe or not, yes. I somehow managed to keep up."
"Good. Do you have a problem with Ray's having custody
of you?"
"No." He shook his head. "I think I'd like that. But what if
he's not my father?"
"We would still like to have you come and live with us.
Robert was Ray's college roommate and fraternity brother. No
matter how much he hurt Ray, you deserve better. Ray is also
Kyle and Kim's godfather."
"Who are Kyle and Kim?"
"Robert's children."
"I don't want Robert to be my father." He dropped his eyes
to his plate. "I hope it's Ray. Why aren't you mad at him?" He
looked back up through his lashes.
"For something that happened before I ever met him?"
Larkin shook her head. "That wouldn't be fair. I knew Ray had
been in a serious relationship before we got together. Now, if
you were seven instead of seventeen, I'd kill him."
Parker laughed. "Thank you, Larkin. Nobody has ever been
this nice to me."
"It has nothing to do with me, Parker. It has to do with my
Savior."
"I don't understand."
"You see, I'm just as sinful as the people who have hurt
you. The only difference is that I've asked Jesus to live inside
of me, in my spirit, and to forgive me for all the sinful things I
ever have done or ever will do. When we ask Him for that,
He'll do it. Only then, can we do anything really good in and of
itself."
"I've been a pretty bad kid."
Larkin took Parker's hand. "That's why Jesus lived a
perfect, sinless life, died on the cross, and rose from the dead.
If we trust in His work, then, we're forgiven. That doesn't mean
we're perfect."
He nodded. "I like the sound of that. Does Ray believe that,
too?"
"Yes."
"He still gets mad pretty easily."
"Yes." She grinned. "Like I said, not perfect, just forgiven."
A chime indicated that the front door opened. Larkin
squeezed Parker's hand. "We'll talk more later if you want to."
Parker nodded.

BOOK: Heartless
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