A Father's Quest (11 page)

She crossed her arms and shrugged. “Maybe I’ll wander downtown and let some handsome tourist buy me a hurricane,” she said, naming the most alcoholic abomination she could think of. She’d tried one once and had been disgustingly sick so she’d never had one again. She drummed her fingers on one cheek, theatrically. “Yes, it’s true that an excess of alcohol can interfere with the brain’s usual nighttime activities such as dreaming, but…” She let the implication hang.

“We’re arguing about going to a place you may or may not dream about.” He let out a snarky hoot. “Is it just me? Or does that strike you as nuts?”

“Are you suggesting I’m crazy?”

“Absolutely not. I know crazy. But you are slightly cracked.”

She couldn’t say for certain whose scowl gave way to a smile first, but a second later they were both laughing. And a second after that, kissing.

She wanted to blame the Kraken—or the intensity of the situation—but she wasn’t a liar. She’d been thinking about kissing him from the moment he showed up on her doorstep.

He broke it off, first. “Damn. I promised myself I wasn’t going to do that.”

“Me, too,” she said, touching her fingers to her lips. She’d kissed a dozen boys and men over the years but not a single one had left the sort of impression on her mouth as Jonas Galloway.

He sighed weightily. “Jessie was right. The lust between us is like our invisible pet elephant—it takes up all this space and we waste a mountain of energy trying to ignore it.”

“Well said. I couldn’t agree more. The damn thing went on every date I ever had, too, after we broke up. Voyeuristic beast,” she muttered under her breath. “You think three in one bed is crowded, you should try it with an invisible elephant.”

She realized that was probably TMI—too much information—as Shiloh would have said, but if he could hold up his mistakes to the light, so could she. “As you’ve probably deduced, I’ve never been married. I was lamenting that fact this morning with Jessie. No long-term steady beau, as Mama would have said. My social life never really found its footing after you left town.” She smiled sheepishly. “Not that that’s your fault or anything. Merely a coincidence.”

“I’m sorry?”

His reply was halfhearted at best.

“One day at the hospital when Mama was still doing fairly well, the Bullies and I were sitting in the waiting room, talking. One of them—I can’t recall which—declared that if it weren’t for Jessie, they’d be almost positive I was switched at birth.”

“That’s mean.”

“Actually, I think they meant it as a compliment.”

They both smiled.

“I’m going, now,” Jonas said, waiting politely for Remy to lead the way to the door. She noticed that he left plenty of room between them.

“I’ll see you when I see you,” she said, remembering too late the phrase was one they’d used every time they parted—except the last time.

He paused and reached out to touch his finger to her nose. “Not if I see you first.”

He remembered.

She stayed at the door until he had backed his car out of the driveway and driven away. Her brain was mush, her insides as mixed up as the agitation cycle on her washing machine. Her first impulse was to call someone. Jessie or one of the Bullies. But she didn’t.

Instead, she dashed upstairs to change clothes. She had six gallons of the boldest and craziest colors of paint known to man—or woman—and she wasn’t afraid to use them. Her personal-image remodeling might be on hold, but she could still redo her home.

“Our Mother of the White Walls, you mean? Yeah, right.”

Remy squeezed the phone between her ear and shoulder as she finished cleaning her brush. Jessie was right, of course, and Remy had known she’d get flack from all of her sisters when she group emailed a photo of her finished product, but she didn’t care. She’d needed the distraction after spending nearly a whole day with Jonas Galloway.

“Where are you guys? Still on the road?”

“Nope. Shiloh found us a dog-friendly motel and we are hunkered down for the night.” She gave an amused chuckle. “The boys—Cade and Beau—are bonding. I’m looking out the window right now. It’s a hoot to watch Cade walking the dog, waiting for him to do his job. He—Cade, that is—says ranch dogs can do their business without any help from him, but of course, we’re not on the ranch. Yet.”

“Where’s Shiloh?”

“Playing pool in the lobby with a couple of girls her age. So far, so good. What’s happening with Jonas?”

Remy turned off the water. “He got a call this afternoon from his daughter.” She lowered her voice. “You should have seen him, Jess. It broke my heart. He loves her so much and there isn’t a damn thing he can do at the moment. It’s horrible.”

There was a pause, then Jessie said, “Okay. I don’t know if Jonas has a private investigator working on this or not, but Cade told me about a guy who is supposed to be really good. I can give you his number if you want it.”

Remy walked to the table where she’d left the map and lined paper she and Jonas had used. “Sure. Why not? The worst he can tell me is no. But, at this point, I think he’d jump at any help he can get. He hired me, didn’t he?”

“Hired you?”

Remy winced. She hadn’t intended on sharing that bit of information. “In theory. I agreed to let him match what I would have made at Shadybrook for two weeks. Mostly to keep things more businesslike.” So she didn’t feel as though she was using his situation as a way to spend time with him. Talk about opportunistic. Was she really that low?

Instead of commenting on Remy’s admission, Jessie rattled off a phone number. “Cade’s coming back, and, honestly, I’m trying not to look like a nosy, micromanaging sister. He likes you and all, but he wants us to focus on us.”

Remy smiled. “Good for Cade. Tell him I understand completely, and I’m fine. Really, I am. Jonas and I are adults. He hasn’t made a pass at me.” Surely one harmless kiss didn’t count—even if it did stir up all sorts of crazy memories on her part. “He only has one thing on his mind—finding his daughter.”

“Yeah. That’s what Cade said. He tried to imagine someone keeping him from Shiloh. That’s why he made some calls. That number I gave you belongs to a private investigator in Tampa, Florida. Supposedly he’s the best.”

“Thanks, Jess. Tell Cade, too. I’ll let Jonas know tomorrow.”

“Will do. Oh, here come my boys. Call me if anything breaks. Bye.”

Remy hung up, then stretched. Her shoulders were sore from painting. She’d draw a bath, take a nice soak, then go to bed. With any luck, she’d dream. About the little girl with red hair and a big smile. Not about the girl’s daddy.

Unfortunately, Remy knew all too well that dreams came from a person’s subconscious. Her reaction to the one, harmless kiss made it abundantly clear that she had never completely gotten over Jonas.

A fact she feared might interfere with her best intentions.

“Maybe. Or a stork. Those ears could be wings.”

“Is it true that a stork brings new babies? I want a brother or a sister, but Mommy says I can’t have one because Daddy doesn’t love us anymore.”

The lady dropped to her knees on the tall grass and put her hands on Birdie’s arms. “Oh, sweetheart, that isn’t true. Your daddy loves you very much. And storks don’t bring babies. Ask your daddy when you see him. He’ll tell you where babies come from.”

Birdie liked this lady. She made Birdie feel safe. And she liked knowing she’d see her daddy again soon. Talking to him had been worth what happened when Brother Thom found her and dragged her out from under the picnic table. He only hit her once before her mother saw them and came rushing to Birdie’s rescue.

Brother Thom looked ready to hit her, too, but his friend—the man who caught Birdie with the matches—stopped him. “Temper, temper, Brother Thom. Remember, thou shalt not be accused of child abuse,” the friend warned.

Mommy had hurried Birdie away and made her tell exactly what happened. “Oh, Birdie, please. You’ve got to stop looking back. Your father had his chance and he left us. God found us and now we are doing His work. We’re never going back to our old life.”

Birdie had cried herself to sleep. Her mother had tried to wake her up to eat, but Birdie wouldn’t open her eyes. She liked her dreams better than the world her mother picked for them. Maybe she’d just stay asleep forever. Safe and sound with the dream lady.

“Except maybe the one with the alligator. Birdie mentioned that yesterday, and alligators symbolize treachery and deceit. Some people think they’re a sign of needing to take a completely new approach to a problem. You know, like, if you keep on your current path, you might lose a leg.” Her laugh sounded forced.

“Have you ever dreamed of alligators before?”

“No. Never.” She paused a moment, then added, “I also bumped into the devil in a different dream. He looked like an ordinary man, but he was leading a donkey and they blocked the road so I couldn’t get past.”

He shook his head. “Does that mean something?”

“It might. Donkeys are stubborn. If you’re able to lead one, you obviously have the power to influence people. The fact that I could tell he was the devil and not the friendly salesman he appeared to be, gives me hope that I’ll be able to stay clearheaded and on task.”

“So, which one am I? The donkey or the devil?’

She didn’t answer right away. “Actually, you were in a different dream, and that’s all I’m going to say about that. Have you decided about the P.I.?”

Jonas was glad to get off the topic of dreams if she didn’t have anything specific to say about Birdie. He’d dreamed, too. Hot and steamy dreams that made him want the impossible.

“Actually, I checked out his website last night. I filled in a contact sheet and left a phone message this morning. His bio seems legit, and he claims to return calls within two hours. We’ll see,” he said, checking his watch. An hour and ten minutes to go.

“Good. I might have met him in my dreams last night, too. Not the man himself, but a symbol of him.”

“Are you trying to confuse me?”

She laughed. “No, but that’s the thing about dreams. They’re not an exact science. In fact, they’re probably the exact opposite of science.”

“This is what I hired you for,” he said, more to himself than her. “What was his symbol? A parrot? A baboon? A goat?”

“Stop it. You can make fun on your own dime. Oh, wait, this is your dime. Okay. Make fun all you want, but in most dream-interpretation circles, a stationmaster or gatekeeper is still a stationmaster or gatekeeper. You and I were climbing this long, winding staircase, and at the top we met a man who handed us two tickets. I don’t know where we were going or what sort of transportation we were supposed to take because the dream changed, but I do remember that. And I was left with the impression that this man will be of help.”

He looked at his cell phone. He’d called her from his mom’s line so that he didn’t miss the P.I. Time would tell.

“What happened when your dream changed?”

She didn’t answer right away. Long enough for him to get suspicious. “It’s not pertinent.”

He would have argued the point but his phone jingled. He picked it up, noting the area code. “It’s him. I’ll call you back.”

He hung up without waiting for her goodbye and pressed the receive button on his phone. His heart rate quickened, but he forced himself not to get his hopes up. “Jonas Galloway. Hello?”

“Mr. Galloway, this is Leonard Franey in Tampa. I just got off the phone with an old friend of mine by the name of Shane Reynard. The good news, sir, is you’ve got the right connections. The bad news is you need my help.”

“Did you read my email?”

“Yes, sir, I did. And one of the reasons I’m interested in taking your case is because this happened while you were in service to our country. As a veteran myself, I made the decision a long time ago to give priority to fellow vets.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“No thanks necessary. Let’s get this ball rolling. How soon can you be here?”

“Florida?”

“Yes, sir. I gave the name of this two-bit charlatan to two of my best researchers and I’m not liking what they’ve come up with—and that’s after less than an hour on the phone and the web. I won’t go into details on the phone because there are some aspects of this case that would be best addressed in person. Is that a problem?”

“No. I could grab a plane and rent a car or I could probably drive in it ten or twelve hours,” he said.

“I suggest you drive. That will give me time to narrow down the focus of our search. And, best-case scenario, you’ll have your own car here when we find your daughter.”

Jonas’s breath caught in his throat. The man’s confidence could be bullshit, but Jonas chose to believe otherwise. They’d found the gatekeeper, just like Remy predicted.

They talked for another ten minutes. Jonas gave him all the pertinent information he had regarding Birdie, Cheryl and the names of the authorities involved in his daughter’s case to date. He also agreed to email several photos of his ex-wife and daughter, along with the most recent video he had. The same one he’d shown Remy. “Would you have any objection to me bringing along a friend?” Jonas asked. “She has good instincts and I trust her.”

“You can bring along the Pope if you want. Makes me no never mind. Just plan on staying in the background. I don’t like civilians underfoot any more than the cops do.”

Jonas smiled, remembering his response to Remy the night before. Why had he changed his mind about taking her along? As bizarre as it sounded, he’d had a dream—beyond the hot and steamy ones—where he’d heard his daughter’s laughter. He’d raced down a poorly marked trail, losing his way more than once, until he stumbled into a meadow. There, not forty feet ahead of him, sat Birdie and Remy playing cards. Old Maid. His daughter’s favorite game. They appeared safe and happy and when Remy looked at him he’d felt a peacefulness that had been missing from his life for months, maybe years.

“Got it. We’ll be on the road inside an hour. Thanks again, Leonard. I can’t tell you what a shot in the arm this is. I look forward to meeting you.”

“Drive safe, soldier.”

He opened his laptop and sent everything the P.I. had asked for, then faxed copies of the reports he’d filled out with the Memphis P.D. He was on his way to his room to pack, when he remembered he hadn’t called Remy back.

She picked up on the first ring. “What did he say?”

“He said, ‘I am the gatekeeper. Come to Florida.’”

She made a sound of exasperation. “Stop making fun of me. Wait. He wants you to come to Florida? Really?”

Jonas pulled the suitcase he’d never completely unpacked off the chair and tossed it on the bed. “I told him I’d be on the road in an hour.”

“He’s going to help. That’s wonderful, Jonas. I’m so glad.”

“I want you to come with me, Remy. This is the first break I’ve had in a month. And it wouldn’t have happened if not for you.”

She didn’t say anything for a minute. “I’d like to come, Jonas. But I have to be honest. I’m afraid. Being with you has stirred up a lot of feelings I’ve spent a long time trying to deny. DNA test or no DNA test, I’m not sure spending more time with you is a good idea—especially considering your focus has to be on your daughter.”

Being with Remy was risky on more levels than she knew. But that same voice that told him Birdie was in trouble insisted Remy was the key to getting his daughter back.

“I know what you mean, Remy. I do. But you’ve breathed new life into this investigation. That’s why I promise you I will keep things aboveboard. No more kisses. No more trips down memory lane. This is all about Birdie, and I can’t do it without you. You saw the gatekeeper. And devil for who he really was. Please say you’ll come.”

“Mama used to say the worst thing you can do when something is troubling you is to overthink it. When are you picking me up?”

“Is half an hour too soon?”

“I’ll be ready.”