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  “I grew up in Flagstaff.” She straightened as he turned onto the road that led to Peter and Laura’s. “I was actually thinking of going there when I got in the car, but came here instead.”

  “Why did you change your mind?” One minute away. He never got this personal with a woman, even the superficial ones he usually dated who never threatened his marital status. Too risky.

  “I didn’t want to admit I couldn’t make it on my own. When Tim died, my parents wanted me to come home so they could take care of me. I haven’t even told them yet I’m in Cimarron City.”

  He pulled to a stop in front of Peter’s house. A sigh escaped his lips. “I’ll pick you up a little before nine. It shouldn’t take too long at the police station.”

  “I hope not. I don’t want to spend any more time than I have to on those three.”

  The urge to drive away quickly assailed him. But he couldn’t leave yet. He had to tell her who those three were. When she opened the door and the light came on, Noah twisted to face her. Fatigue dulled the green in her eyes while her forehead wrinkled in question.

  “You should know who Jake, Jeremy and Brent are before we go down to the station tomorrow.”

  Her mouth pinched into a frown. “I know they’re boys parading around as men. They need to be held accountable for their actions.”

  “I agree. But they’re the three star baseball players at the university here. Many of the townspeople have lived vicariously through their accomplishments.”

  She smoothed a wisp of blond hair back from her plain-looking face. “Are you saying they should get special treatment?” Fury invaded her voice.

  “No, I’m saying that the press may be all over this, and I want you to be prepared.”

  She slid from the front seat and leaned down to look at him. “Consider me prepared. Thanks for the ride and the help tonight.”

  The stiff way she carried herself toward the house spoke of her aggravation, some of it probably directed at him. He was afraid the justice she wanted wouldn’t happen, that she was going to be hurt further.

  He waited while she slipped inside the house, wishing he could take care of the situation without involving her. His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he pictured Cara, vulnerable, trying to act brave. Most of his adult life he had avoided commitment. What was it about Cara Winters that made him think twice about his decision years ago to go it alone in this world?

  * * *

  Saturday afternoon after reconciling his receipts from the night before, Noah came to the conclusion one of his employees was stealing from him—to the tune of forty dollars for the second time this week. That knowledge made his stomach clench. He had thought it was an honest mistake. After all, he treated his employees fairly. Now it was obvious that was wishful thinking on his part.

  In his youth he’d been tempted to steal in order to have money to eat. Instead, he’d gotten a job and, when that wasn’t enough, he’d gone out for a second one. When he got his hands on the thief, he would bring charges against that person.

  He made his way to the dining room, trying to decide what to do to catch the thief. His gaze lit upon Cara near the waitress station. The circles under her eyes stood out against her pale cheeks. For a split second he had an urge to smooth them away. Instead he walked over and took two of her drinks. “Isn’t it time for your break?”

  “As soon as I take care of table twenty.”

  He held up the water. “I’ll help you. Are these for them?”

  Her mouth formed a hard line. “I can do it.”

  “I know you can.” He grinned. “Indulge me. I’d feel better if I helped.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s been a long day, especially with having to go to the police station this morning. You shouldn’t be here at work and I let you come anyway.”

  She stepped close, her scent of vanilla wafting to him. “I’m not fragile. I won’t break.” She plucked the glasses from his grasp and put then on a tray. She scooted around him and walked toward the front of the restaurant.

  I guess she put me in my place. He watched her interact with the family at table twenty. A little girl about six said something to Cara. When Cara smiled, her whole face radiated joy. Her green eyes even twinkled. The child laughed and all traces of fatigue momentarily disappeared from Cara’s expression. Her plain features transformed in a beautiful countenance.

  What am I doing? I have no business standing here eyeing Cara when I have a thief to catch. Noah scanned the pizzeria, studying each employee who had worked the night before. Kalvin was cleaning off a table in the corner. Adam was ringing up an order. And Cara had finished with table twenty and was heading toward the kitchen. One of them was a thief.

  He couldn’t see it being Cara. She was a friend of Laura’s. Besides, she hadn’t worked the first time money was missing. If it wasn’t her, it had to be Kalvin or Adam. They were hard workers and had been with him for almost a year. He hated thinking the thief was either one of them. He pivoted toward the kitchen. All he could do was keep an eye on both teens. He would be there waiting when the thief made a mistake.

  Noah planted himself in the corner by the soft drink dispenser. He had a clear view of the cash register, but couldn’t be seen.

  Not twenty minutes passed when a commotion in the main dining room drew him out.

  “Watch where you’re going, lady.”

  Lisa, one of his waitresses, hovered over a dropped tray, shards of broken dishes strewn across the floor. “I’m sorry.”

  Grumbling under his breath, the man walked toward the entrance.

  Cara paused with two iced teas next to Noah. “He ran into Lisa. It wasn’t her fault.”

  He smiled at the woman who had haunted his thoughts way too much lately. “Thanks.”

  Cara placed the drinks in front of a couple, then made her way to Lisa and bent down to help the young woman clean up the mess.

  Satisfied everything was all right, Noah turned away. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Adam quickly stuffing some money into his pocket while he stood in front of the cash register. The teen looked up and their gazes collided. Adam’s nostrils flared, his expression guilt-ridden.

  He slammed the drawer close and spun around, hurrying toward the back. Noah followed. Halfway across the kitchen, the teen broke into a run and shoved out the door.

  Noah gave chase. Outside he checked the area and saw the teen sprinting across the side parking lot, toward the street. Noah rushed after him, thankful he kept in good shape with jogging.

  “Adam! Stop!”

  Throwing a glance over his shoulder, Adam changed course and darted to the left. Noah mirrored the teen’s action.

  Suddenly the boy altered his direction again, swinging to the right. He dashed across the street toward the park. Noah thought of all the hiding places in the wooded area and pushed himself even faster.

  In the park, Adam headed toward a grove of trees along an access road. He chanced a look back at Noah. Quickly turning forward again, the teen veered right into the path of an oncoming car speeding around a curve.

  The screech of the tires on the pavement reverberated through Noah as he witnessed Adam being clipped by the car and thrown forward into the dirt along the side of the road. For a second, shock slowed his pace. Adam lay sprawled half in the grass and half in the graveled shoulder. Not moving. Staring up at the sky.

  All thoughts of what happened at his restaurant fled Noah’s mind as he raced toward the youth, his heart pounding as fast as his feet on the ground. The car slowed for a few seconds while the vehicle’s occupants were probably checking out what had happened. Noah couldn’t tell for certain because dark tinted glass hid the car’s interior.

  As Noah neared Adam, the tan sedan gunned forward. Noah noted the first three letters of the license plate before the vehicle disappeared, nearly hitting a truck parked at the curb.

  Noah scanned the area for help. Empty paths and a deserted road gree
ted his inspection. Not sure what to do, he knelt next to Adam. The boy gasped for air, his eyes wide with fear. He peered at Noah, blinked, then tried to move. A cry pierced the quiet.

  Noah laid his hands on Adam’s shoulders. “Stay still. I’m getting you help.”

  “No! I can’t…” The boy shifted, his eyes fluttering closed before popping open again.

  Noah dug into his pocket for his cell. He called 9-1-1 and quickly told the dispatcher where to find them. “Adam?”

  The teen sucked in a shallow breath, a moan escaping from his lips.

  “Where do you hurt?”

  “My leg.” He clenched his teeth and struggled to prop himself up on his elbows to take a look.

  “Stay still. An ambulance is on its way.”

  “I need to get home.” Adam collapsed back to the ground, his features pale, his teeth chattering. “I can’t go to the hospital.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.” In the distance Noah heard a siren.

  Reassured help was on the way, he glanced around again to see if anyone else was nearby. He spied Cara jogging toward them about thirty yards away. Relief went through him.

  When Noah looked back at Adam, the teen had rolled over and shoved himself to his feet. The boy tried to hobble away, but fell after taking only two steps and screamed when both knees hit the dirt. Noah scrambled forward to ease him down onto the ground.

  “I told you not to worry about anything.” Although he was concerned about the teen’s injuries, Noah schooled his voice into a soothing cadence.

  Adam lifted a tear-streaked face to Noah. “I can’t go to the hospital. I have to get home. I have—”

  “I’ll call your dad and let him know what happened. He’ll need to meet us at the hospital.”

  The teen’s eyes grew even rounder, panic replacing the apprehension in them. “No!”

  “I won’t tell your dad about you stealing money from me. Let’s just forget that. What’s your number?” Noah could feel Cara’s comforting presence behind him; he could hear her panting as she caught her breath.

  Pain twisted Adam’s face. “He’s not home.”

  “Where does he work? I’ll call him there then.” Noah raised his voice to be heard over the siren blaring from the ambulance that came to a stop nearby.

  Adam clamped his lips together, tears continuing to run down his cheeks.

  “Adam?” Now kneeling beside them, Cara placed her hand on the boy’s arm. “We need to let your family know what’s happened.”

  The gentle tone of her voice erased some of the tension in the teen’s expression. Adam looked toward her. He started to say something, but instead snapped his mouth closed and averted his head.

  Two paramedics approached with the stretcher, stooped and began examining Adam. Noah and Cara rose and stepped back to give them room.

  A police officer approached. “Can you tell me what happened here?”

  Noah relayed the events to the man while keeping his gaze on Adam. This was his fault. He shouldn’t have chased the teen. He should have let it go.

  “I’ll report your description of the car and see if we can find it.” The officer walked back to his vehicle to call it in.

  The paramedics lifted Adam onto the stretcher and secured him. They started wheeling him toward the ambulance.

  “Wait! Mr. Maxwell,” Adam called out.

  Noah hurried toward the stretcher. “Yes? What’s your dad’s number?”

  “He’s gone. My brother and sister will be by themselves. They’ll get scared. Please…” He shifted as though he needed to sit up. He winced and groaned.

  “I’ll take care of them. Don’t worry about them. Where’s your dad?”

  The teen closed his eyes. The paramedics hefted the stretcher into the back of the ambulance.

  Noah heard the teen say, “Out of town.” Then the door shut.

  * * *

  With dusk descending, Cara stared down at the address written on the paper then back up at the number on the mailbox that leaned against the curb, propped up by several large rocks. “This is it.”

  Sitting in the passenger seat, Noah stared at the house that easily could be described as a shack. What paint remained on the wooden structure had turned a dull gray, and two of the windows were missing a pane while one of the steps up to the sagging porch was broken.

  Sweat coated his forehead and beaded his upper lip. Transported back twenty years ago, Noah remembered, that last time he’d come home as though it had transpired yesterday. He would never be rid of the memory. It would haunt him to his dying day.

  “This place doesn’t even look safe.” Cara pushed her door open.

  “We’ll get his brother and sister and take them to the hospital. We can leave a note for his dad. Adam said he was out of town. Hopefully just for the day.”

  “Have you met either of them?”

  “His younger brother. He’s come by the restaurant several times while I’ve been there. I let Rusty help out in the back until Adam was ready to leave.”

  “Good. Then he’ll know you.” Cara mounted the stairs, stepping over the one that lay in two pieces.

  Noah knocked. Sounds of a television competed with a dog’s barking. A minute crawled by. Then another. He started to pound on the wood again when the door swung open. A little girl, with big blue eyes and long blond hair, stared up at Noah. She held a stuffed bear with a missing button eye and part of his brown fur rubbed off in several places.

  Not knowing the girl’s name, Noah said, “Hi. Is your brother home?”

  She slammed the door in his face.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Cara stepped in front of Noah. “Let me try. You can be pretty intimidating.” She raised her hand to knock when the door opened again. This time a taller boy, maybe nine years old, with red hair and freckles stood in the entrance. “Rusty?”

  The child frowned at Cara. “We don’t want—”

  Noah stepped into view. “Rusty, do you remember me? I’m Adam’s boss at the restaurant.”

  The boy swept his gaze to Noah and nodded.

  “Adam has been taken to the hospital. He was hurt. We told him we’d take you and your sister to see him,” Noah explained.

  “He’s hurt? How?” Rusty asked, wide-eyed.

  “He was hit by a car,” Noah said.

  The boy blinked, all color draining from his face.

  Cara came between the two. “I’m Cara, Rusty. I work with Adam. He’ll be all right once he’s patched up at the hospital. Why don’t you get your sister, and you two will be able to see for yourselves.”

  “We’ll just write your dad a note in case he comes back,” Noah said over Cara’s shoulder.

  Rusty’s mouth twisted. “He ain’t coming back.”

  “What do you mean?” Cara asked, drawing the boy’s attention back to her.

  Noah moved into the house and surveyed the place. The inside was as bad as the outside. Off to the side in the living room, the little girl lounged on a brown couch with its stuffing spilling out of various tears. The only other furniture was two wooden cartons stacked together as a table, on which the television sat.

  Noah looked back at the boy in time to see him shrug.

  “Ain’t supposed to say,” Rusty said.

  Cara came into the house. “We’ll write him a note anyway. Can you get me some paper?” She rummaged in her purse and withdrew a pen.

  Rusty stared at Cara for a long moment, as though trying to decide what to do. Finally he dug into a backpack by the front door. He ripped a sheet from a notebook then gave it to her.

  While Cara scribbled a message to the children’s father, Noah walked into the kitchen and inspected the refrigerator. A quart of chocolate milk and a pizza carton from his restaurant were the only items on the bottom shelf. The top one held a few slices of American cheese and several pint-size boxes of apple juice.

  When he shut the door and turned, he found Rusty staring at him with wariness in
his eyes. “Not much in the fridge.”

  “Nope.” The boy dropped his gaze.

  Something was definitely wrong here. Noah opened a cupboard and discovered bare shelves. Some dishes were stacked in the next one. In the third cabinet one cereal box, a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread sent off alarms in his mind. Were the children living here by themselves? Was that why Adam had been in such a panic to get home? Why Rusty wasn’t supposed to talk about where his father was?

  Cara entered the kitchen; the concern in her gaze reflected his own. “I left the note on top of the TV.”

  Noah nodded. “Are you all ready to go, Rusty?”

  “Are you sure Adam is gonna be okay?” the boy asked, his teeth biting into his lower lip.

  “Yes, the doctor will take good care of Adam.” Noah strode to the child and clasped his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

  Rusty didn’t move, a serious expression on his face. “We ain’t got any money for a doctor.”

  Noah smiled reassuringly. “Don’t you worry about that. I’m taking care of the doctor. I told the paramedics that.” He felt a tug and peered behind him.

  Adam’s little sister tilted her head, her eyes huge, and asked, “Can I bring Molly?”

  “Molly?”

  “Our puppy,” the little girl said.

  Noah looked around. “Where’s Molly?”

  “Rusty put her in the back room when you knocked. We don’t want no one to take her from us.”

  “Can you show me where Molly is?” Cara asked, holding out her hand for the little girl to take.

  She fitted her small fingers in Cara’s grasp and pulled Cara toward a door to the left. “Molly’s in there.” A scratching sound came from the other side of the wood. “She’ll want out. She doesn’t like staying in there.” The girl paused, her hand on the knob.

  “What’s your name?” Cara stood behind the child.

  “Lindsay.”

  “That’s such a pretty name.”

  “My mama gave it to me.”

  “Where’s your mama?” Cara asked.

  “In heaven. That’s what Papa told me.” Lindsay slowly turned the knob. “I have to be real careful when I open the door. Molly likes to bolt.”

 

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