Bayview Heights Trilogy (43 page)

She got back into the car and, squinting
through the windshield, she drove slowly. Still, when she hit a
slippery patch in the road, the car skidded. Turning into the skid,
she gripped the steering wheel, muttered a prayer and managed to
keep the Honda on the pavement. Thankfully, there were no other
vehicles around.

Just as she reached the outskirts of town,
which usually took five minutes but today had taken fifteen, she
saw a car parked off to the side of the road, its hood up, its
flashers blinking in the semidarkness. Next to it stood a man. Even
though she couldn’t determine his identity, Lacey drew parallel to
the car. Bayview Heights was a small town and surely no mugger
would have chosen today to find a victim. Besides, she couldn’t
leave
anyone
stranded in this cold weather.

As she lowered the window, the man jogged to
her side of the car. It wasn’t a man. It was a teenage boy.

It was Seth Taylor’s son. There was a strong
resemblance to his father.

“Hey, thanks for stopping. Not a soul’s come
by but you.” Dressed in a heavy ski jacket, he had on gloves but no
hat.

“Can I help?” Lacey asked.

“I think my battery’s dead. You wouldn’t have
jumper cables, would you? Mine are in my dad’s Blazer.”

“Yes. I have some.”

Popping the trunk and the hood, Lacey got out
and circled the car. She took the cables and a woolen hat from the
trunk and rounded to the front. “Here, put this on.”

The boy accepted the hat and covered his
painfully red ears. “Why don’t you get back in your car?” he
suggested as he took the cables from her. “It’s cold out here. I
can do this.”

“I’m okay.” They hitched up the cables to
both cars. “Want me to start yours?” she asked.

Joey looked faintly surprised that she’d know
what to do. “Yeah, sure.”

Lacey got into his small car. She turned the
key. Nothing happened. She tried again. Still no juice. She got
out.

“It’s something else,” she told Joey.

“Yeah, I guess.” He frowned, the gesture
reminding her of his father. Seth had done a lot of scowling at
her.

“I can take you to a gas station.”

“I think both of them are closed.”

Lacey said, “I’ll drive you home then. Lock
up. Turn off the flashers.”

She got into her car, and in moments Joey
swung into the front beside her. He was a couple inches taller than
his father—about six feet—and had to move the seat back. He flicked
the seat belt closed as soon as he got in. “Thanks. I’m Joe
Taylor.”

“Yes, I know. I’m Lacey Cartwright.”

“Yeah, you run the paper. How’d you know who
I am?”

“It’s a small town.” She checked the mirror
and pulled out onto the pavement.

“But you haven’t been the
Herald’s
editor that long.”

“No, I grew up here, though.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me. You had
my dad for a teacher.”

She smiled at his youthful disgust. “No. I
was in high school when he taught English, but I didn’t take his
class. Why?”

The boy laughed good-naturedly. “It’s all I
hear—what a great teacher Dad was.”

She smiled weakly as she pulled onto the
road.

Joey eyed her carefully. “You sure about
taking me home? We could stop to call Dad.”

“No. I’m out and you only live about ten
minutes from us, I think.”

Joey was silent.

Lacey smiled genuinely this time. “Joe, these
are the nineties. I can handle a snowstorm, jumper cables and a
little ice. You seem pretty chauvinistic for what—an
eighteen-year-old?”

The boy chuckled. “I’m sorry. I was raised
that way. Dad’s got a real protective streak. The kids at college
razz me about it all the time.”

“Where do you go?”

“UCLA.”

“No kidding? That’s where I went.”

“For journalism?”

“Of course. You?”

“The same. Maybe I could talk to you about
working at the paper over—” Joey’s words cut off as the car hit
another patch of ice. The tires skidded again, only this time
Lacey’s Honda did a 180-degree turn. Her shoulders tensed and her
heartbeat speeded up, but she grasped the wheel and turned into the
skid.

When she righted the car, she looked at Joey.
“You okay?”

“Yeah. You did great.”

“We’d better not talk, so I can
concentrate.”

It took another fifteen minutes to get to the
Taylor house. Though Lacey knew where Seth lived, she’d never
actually been out to his place. The sprawling two-story cedar home
was on the edge of town, standing alone in a copse of trees and
backing onto a forever-wild park. As she pulled into the sloped
driveway, she noticed the snow blanketed everything. It was a
postcard pretty scene.

Lights blazed from inside and there were
lights shining from the porch and lamppost. “Oh, man, Dad’s gonna
be ticked,” Joey said as the car approached the front of the
driveway.

“Why?”

“He, ah, told me not to go out this
afternoon. He went to school for a few hours, but called and said
the roads were bad.”

“You went anyway?”

“I had to—”

Just then the door to the house flew open.
Seth stalked out, his jacket flopping open. Joey exited the Honda,
leaving the door ajar on his side. Lacey stayed where she was.

When Seth reached the car, Lacey heard, “Oh,
thank God,” and saw him give his son a bear hug.

It was obvious that Seth Taylor wasn’t
ticked
at all. He was petrified. “Get in the house,” he
said gruffly, but the underlying anxiety in his voice was
marked.

Joey leaned into the car. He looked
chagrined. “Thanks a ton, Ms. Cartwright.”

“You’re welcome.”

When Joey trotted away, Seth poked his head
in. “Lacey?”

Just hearing her name on his lips warmed her.
“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“I found your son stranded on Maple Street.
His car died and we couldn’t get it started with jumper cables, so
I brought him home.”

“Thanks.” Yanking his jacket together, Seth
asked, “You want to come in?”

“Excuse me?”

“I asked if you wanted to come in.” He slid
inside the car and shut the door. His wide shoulders spanned the
bucket seat and his chest took up much of the small space. “The
snowstorm looks like it’s letting up now, but, um, the roads will
probably be better in an hour or so…”

Lacey realized how lame the sentiment sounded
and she smiled at him.

His grin was sheepish, then it turned into a
scowl, as if he’d just thought of something. “Do you have plans
tonight?”

“No.”

“Any responsibilities?” He meant her
grandfather.

“No.” Philip had gone up to Leonard Small’s
cabin this morning for the rest of the weekend.

“Come in, then.”

Lacey thought about the empty house on Bay
Road and the loneliness she’d felt all weekend, especially after
Kevin wouldn’t see her. Because of this man. She should say no. For
Kevin.

She blocked her brother out of her mind. “All
right, for a little while.”

Lacey turned off the engine and climbed out.
Seth waited for her to precede him down the sidewalk that led to
the porch. The distance was only about ten feet to the house, but
by the time they made it inside, Lacey was thoroughly chilled. In
the foyer, she hugged herself to stop from shivering.

Seth removed his jacket and hung it on a hook
to the right. “Let me have your coat,” he said. “The fire’s going
in the living room. You’ll warm up faster there.”

Shrugging out of her snow gear, Lacey picked
her way around the wet floor and followed Seth Taylor into his
home.

She was enchanted by her surroundings. The
main room was spacious without being cold. Paneled completely in
cedar, it had a cathedral ceiling with two skylights, a fieldstone
fireplace and plush, dark carpeting that felt thick under her
socks. Two huge overstuffed beige sofas flanked the fireplace. One
whole wall sported floor-to-ceiling shelves that functioned as an
entertainment center, and a home for more books than Lacey could
count. Recessed lighting was everywhere, casting the room in a
mellow halo of light. Two leather chairs next to stand-up lamps
formed a practical reading area. The whole room looked as if it had
come out of a magazine on classy rustic living.

“This is gorgeous,” she said.

“Thanks.”

From his position by the fire, Joey spoke up,
“Dad did the interior himself. You should see his study.”

The comment drew Seth’s attention from Lacey
to Joey.

“Don’t try to distract me, young man.” Seth’s
voice was stern. “I’m furious with you for going out when I told
you not to.”

Sighing, Joey’s blue eyes locked on his
father, and Lacey braced herself for a tantrum like the ones Kevin
had always thrown.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” Joey said instead.
“The roads didn’t seem that bad, but I guess I shouldn’t have
gone.”

Lacey crossed to the fire and stood next to
it, watching the scenario with fascination. Seth went to Joey and
put his arm around the boy. “I was crazy with worry. Why’d you go,
son?”

“Sally Tyson.”

“What?”

“Sally called and was hysterical. Bill broke
up with her this morning. She asked me to come over.”

Seth rolled his eyes. “Joey, you’ve got to
get over this knight-in-shining-armor routine.”

“I will, when you do, Dad,” his son said
teasingly.

Trying to look fierce, Seth scowled. “It was
a dumb thing to do, just the same. You should have known
better.”

“I know.”

Seth ruffled Joey’s hair. “All right. Go
change. You’re wet.”

Joey threw Lacey a boyish grin, then took the
steps of the massive staircase two at a time. Lacey stared at Joey
and wondered if her father, had he lived longer, would have been
able to deal with a teenage Kevin so effectively. Philip was in his
late sixties when Kevin got to high school. He’d been a good
grandfather, but she wondered if...

“How can I thank you for rescuing my
son?”

Lacey smiled. “No thanks necessary. He’s a
wonderful boy.”

Pure bliss lit Seth’s face. “Yes, he is. If a
little too nice for his own good.”

Lacey glanced out the window, suddenly
uncomfortable. She bit her lip. “It’s pretty here.”

The small gesture zinged through Seth. Framed
by the fireplace, with her disheveled hair, in a thick ski sweater
and jeans and heavy socks, Lacey Cartwright looked young and very
vulnerable.

And very desirable.

Seth stuck his hands in his back pockets and
turned to stare out the window, too. Life was full of ironies.
Grateful as he was that she’d been there to help his son, Seth knew
that for his own good, and hers, the last person he should be with
tonight was Lacey Cartwright. He’d had to fight not to think about
her all weekend. He’d had to quell images of her holding Josh in
the day care, cradling the little boy to her. But when he’d seen
her in the car in his driveway, he lost the battle.

Now he looked over at her and said, “Please
sit down.”

Forgoing the sofa, she sank onto the floor,
her back against the couch. Seth did the same on the opposite
side.

She stared into the fire, the flickering
light revealing sadness on her face.

“You’re worried what Philip will think about
your being here, aren’t you?”

Lacey reached out to warm her hands in front
of the blaze. A heavy sigh escaped her. “I don’t think we should
discuss this right now. My grandfather will always blame you for
what happened to Kevin, and you’ll always believe you did what was
right.”

Seth felt the familiar guilt well inside him.
“I’m not so sure about that anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes I have doubts about what I did
with Kevin.” There, it was out. For her to use against him.

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ve wondered a thousand times if I made the
right decision. If I had listened to you that day you came to see
me eight years ago, maybe things would have been different.”

She studied him with troubled eyes. “Why
didn’t you?”

“You want the truth?”

“Of course.”

“Kevin was a powder keg.” Seth forked a hand
through his hair. “He’d been in so many fights, done so much
physical and emotional damage…”

“But he was going on new medication. And he
said he’d keep taking this one.” She raised her chin. “It could
have helped.”

“If he hadn’t hit a teacher, I might have
agreed.”

Lacey stiffened at the mention of Jerry
Bosco. “Tell me you honestly believe everything Bosco said.”

Seth frowned. He’d always prided himself on
being a teacher advocate, especially since he’d had the experience
of not being supported by an administrator in the past. And buried
deep was the knowledge that
that
experience made him take
a harder line with all students. “I...I’m not sure. Bosco had
bruises. He testified that Kevin had given them to him. I felt then
I had no choice.”

“And now?”

“I guess I’ve learned there’s always a
choice.” When she didn’t say anything, he added, “Which is why I
feel guilty…”

“What do you feel guilty about, Dad?”

Seth stiffened. Joey knew a little about
Kevin Cartwright, but was unaware of Seth’s doubts. That Lacey
Cartwright could tarnish him in Joey’s eyes unnerved him.

When Seth didn’t respond, Lacey looked up at
his son. “My brother, Kevin. He got in trouble and your dad feels
bad he couldn’t help him.”

Joey shook his head. “That’s Dad. He thinks
he can save everybody. Fix everything.” Joey scowled again just
like Seth. “I’m sorry about your brother, though.” He glanced from
Lacey to Seth then back to Lacey again. “Do you blame Dad?”

The color drained from Lacey’s face. The
phone rang, and Joey cocked his head at the fact that she hadn’t
answered his question. When she still didn’t respond, he went to
get the call. Into the receiver, he said, “Yeah...oh, hi, Bill.
Yeah, I talked to her. You what? Just a minute.” Joey looked at his
father. “Hang up for me when I get to my room, will ya, Dad? It’s
Bill. He wants me to call Sally to go sledding, and he’ll come,
too. It’s an excuse to see her.” He smiled at Lacey. “Sounds like a
soap opera, doesn’t it?”