Echoes (32 page)
"Honey, I don't know where you are, but I'm in California."
The weight of disappointment crushed her. "California?"
"Carly, are you in trouble? Is that why you didn't call your dad?"
She gulped. "Yes."
"Is he the trouble?"
"Yes."
"You need to tell someone at the school—"
"They won't believe me. He tells them I lie. They
always
believe him."
"Is there someone you can trust? Anyone you can go to?"
He'd made sure there was no one, scared them or hurt them, or made them believe she was bad. Who could she—Grandma Beth. She might not love her enough to give Daddy money, but she wasn't asking for money. "I could try my grandma."
Sofie's relief was obvious. "Okay. See if she can come get you. Call me either way." Grandma Beth wasn't in her phone. She had to dial information and ask for the city, then give them her name. She wrote the number on a scrap of paper, then looked at the nurse, busy with blood and Band-Aids.
Carly touched the number pads. Her grandma might say, "Sorry, you're not reason enough," but when her voice came on with a brusque "Hello?" Carly said, "Grandma, can you help me?"
Sofie closed the phone, overwhelmed with sorrow. Six years she had stayed in the neighborhood waiting for something she thought would never happen. Now it had, and she was too far away to help. She grabbed her phone as it rang again, but it wasn't Carly, it was Matt.
"Sofie, I'm sorry. I have bad news."
Bad news? She shook herself. "What news?"
"The judge has released Annie to her family. My supervisor's going to moderate, and they'll all find a solution together." His voice was tight, speaking the words but not buying them. "We'll be over in about ten minutes."
"Okay." She went out to the garden, where Star had amazingly gotten Annie laughing and playing. Elaine watched from the bench with a faraway look that might have been memories of her own little girl, though Rese was not blonde and fair.
"I hate to interrupt, but they're coming for Annie."
"Blast them for fools." Star held the one-legged pose as though she'd been frozen, then came stiffly to rest like a doll. Annie laughed. Such a magical sound.
"Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you changed and ready."
By the time they arrived, Sofie had Annie waiting with the stuffed bunny Matt had brought. She kissed the child's head and whispered through a throat that felt parched, "You are loved. You are beautiful. You are a child of God."
Annie raised her face and gave her a sweet kiss right on the mouth. Tears stung. She handed the toddler to Gail, a portly fortyish woman who'd been around this block before. Still, Sofie said, "If there's anything else I can do . . ."
Gail nodded. "Let's make this as smooth a transition as we can."
Sofie tucked the child into the car seat in Matt's Pathfinder, but he surprised them both by handing Gail the keys. "You go ahead. Swing back when you've delivered her."
"You're not on board?"
"It's your call."
"It's Judge Harrel's call. Personal feelings can't interfere with our decisions."
Matt nodded. "See you when you get back."
Her mouth formed a tight line. Annie's cries came from the car. When had she started to cry? Sofie pressed her hands to her head, loss overwhelming her as they drove away.
Matt caught and pulled her close. "Lance was right. I shouldn't have done this."
The two situations melded in her mind and she moaned, "Carly."
He stroked her hair. "That's not Carly, Sofie. It's Annie Price."
She shook her head. "Carly called. She's in trouble."
He moved his head back and studied her.
"I was waiting to hear back when you called."
"But you haven't?"
She shook her head. She should have. What if that call for help was the last she ever heard from her little girl? "She wanted me to pick her up at school, and she couldn't call Eric."
"That's hardly an emergency."
"She couldn't call Eric because something's wrong." It had been there in Carly's voice. Something raw. "I need to go."
"Sofie."
"I should never have left New York." She pulled away and went inside. "I'd have been there when she needed me."
"You didn't even know she was still in the state." He followed her inside without an invitation. "At least talk to Lance. See what he says."
She climbed the stairs. It didn't matter what Lance or anyone said. Carly's call was not a simple request for a ride home from school. Something had happened that was bigger than she could face alone. Sofie pulled one of her suitcases from the closet, hardly noticing which clothes she folded in.
"You have no legal recourse."
"I know where her grandmother lives." If Carly had gotten through, if Beth had picked her up, maybe, just maybe, she'd see her little girl again.
Expelling a breath, he raised and dropped his hands. "Okay. If you're set on this, I'll take you to the airport."
"That would be nice. Thanks." She flicked him a grateful glance.
"We'll stop by my place first. I'm going with you."
"What?" She scooped her cosmetics into a bag and straightened. "Why?"
"Maybe I can work with CPS out there."
"But you have all this business with Annie."
"She's Gail's responsibility now. Frankly some distance will be good."
Sofie looked for an argument, but if he could help her with Carly, she'd be so grateful. And more than that, she realized. "You can leave your car with Gail. We'll take my Neon."
He opened his phone and got the number for the airline, asked for a direct flight to LaGuardia. Two tickets. Family emergency.
————
"She should be here any minute," Carly told the nurse, pretending it was her make-believe caregiver on the way.
"You have to wait here until you're signed out." The nurse explained school policy, but what good were policies that gave all the power to adults who could do things like . . .
She gripped her belly. "My stomach hurts. I need to go to the bathroom."
"Okay. Let me give you the pass." She handed her the red cardboard cross that was the health pass, easily recognized through classroom doors so kids didn't get hassled on their way to throw up. Carly scooped up her backpack, hurried out, and headed for the bathroom, then passed it and went out the side door. She couldn't let grandma sign her out. Even if she was on the people-approved-to-pick-up-kids list—and she wouldn't be—even if they didn't double check, and they might not, if Grandma signed the sheet, Daddy would know. Carly hurried around to the front and ducked into a brick alcove to wait for her grandma.
After a few minutes, a car pulled up, the same silver car Grandma had driven before with the fuzzy steering wheel cover. Carly hung her pack over her shoulder and hurried over. Her grandma took a long look, then popped the locks and Carly climbed in.
Tears clogged her throat. "Thank you, Grandma."
"Do you need to go to a doctor?"
She shook her head. Had she really thought she was sick? But then, it was Sofie who had understood. "Can I please go to your house? I have to show you something." Before she lost her courage.
Grandma Beth reached over and squeezed her hand. "Okay, honey. I'm glad you called."
They drove in silence, but Carly couldn't help stealing glances. It had been at least three years since she'd seen her grandma, though she didn't look that different. Same blond hair, cut round on her head, same glasses, or maybe not. She didn't look mad. She might be sad. What would she think when she saw the pictures? What if she told Daddy?
Carly could not even think how awful that would be. Maybe this was a mistake. But what was she going to do? It took so long to get through the traffic to Grandma's house that her stomach was in a knot. One fingernail had started bleeding, and she hadn't even realized she was biting them. The box felt like lead in her lap. Why had she thought she could let anyone see?
She couldn't. It was too awful. And if Daddy knew she'd shown someone . . . Grandma didn't care about her. Why should she trust her with something this big? Oh, why wasn't Sofie here?
When they pulled into the garage, Carly started to leave her backpack in the car, but her grandma said, "Don't forget your bag."
Okay, so she'd bring it in. She slung the strap over her shoulder. The house was bigger and nicer than anything she and Dad had ever lived in. Soft carpets, and the yellow and cream furniture looked new. Everything was in place, but not the way Daddy kept his things with everything practically labeled. Grandma's house looked happy and comfortable.
They went into the kitchen, and Grandma took out a package of fig bars and poured her a glass of milk. She stepped back. "So let me look at you."
Carly shrugged. "It's just me."
"Eleven now?"
"Mm-hmm."
"I sent a card. It had twenty dollars inside. I don't suppose you got it."
Carly shook her head. Dad had taken her to a fancy place and worn a suit. She'd ordered spaghetti. He'd tried to get her to have something she couldn't even pronounce. Then he'd said it's your birthday, have whatever you want, and he'd looked like he wanted to give her the world. The spaghetti was . . . spaghetti.
Her grandma cupped her face and raised it. "You have your father's eyes."
She gulped, not sure that was a compliment. Everyone gushed over Daddy's eyes, but they didn't see them when they got scary. "Is that good?"
Grandma Beth smiled. "You've always been good."
Not a direct answer, but it made her feel better. She bit into a fig bar, suddenly hungry. The milk was cold and fresh. Maybe everything tasted better in her grandma's blue and yellow kitchen.
Grandma's mouth gathered into fine lines. "How is he?"
The cookie stuck in her throat. She choked down the rest of the milk, miserable again. "Um . . . fine."
Grandma sat back. "I haven't lived all these years to fall for that."
Heat crawled into her face. Carly wished she hadn't eaten the cookies.
"Honey, you didn't call me from school because everything was fine. And as glad as I am that you did, I'd like to know what we're up against."
Carly saw the warmth in her grandma's face, and the concern. "I found something. A box full of pictures . . . of Sofie. A lot of them were taken when she didn't know it." After seeing what was in the other box, she was pretty sure of that. "I think he's been watching her."
Grandma's brows raised. "They split up six years ago. Longer than they were together."
"I know. But I know he's seen her because I saw the pictures. And he told me he went to see her and she wasn't there. He was really upset."
"And that's why you called me?"
Her stomach turned. "No. I . . ." She wrapped her arms around herself. "I found another box."
They sat a long moment in silence, both knowing, she guessed, that once she brought it out, everything would be different. She had the crazy thought that if she had kept it to herself, put it back in the cabinet with no one knowing, it wouldn't be true. He'd just be the dad who loved her too much. Not . . .
"What was in the other box?"
"I'll show you." With leaden fingers, she reached in and pulled it from her pack, set it on the table.
Grandma was more confused than anything else at first. "Who are these people?"
"My friends and teachers. Some of my friends' parents."
She got to the picture of the car, then more people, then the icy stairs Mrs. Warren had fallen down when the rest of the sidewalks were dry. The ambulance. The pets. Grandma pressed a hand to her forehead. "Did you know this was happening?"
"Nobody knows. They think I'm the bad one, that I lie and steal things. But I don't." Grandma had to believe that. "Except I did lie about being sick, and I did take the box. But I meant to put it back until . . ." She'd seen the awful things it held.
"When you were here that last time, I had two little dogs."
She suddenly remembered them. Little tan and gray things that yapped and stood on their hind legs for a biscuit.
Grandma's eyes teared. Her hand slid down to her mouth. "I didn't want to believe . . ."
Carly gripped her stomach. "No."
The phone rang. They stared at it. Dad must have realized she wasn't at school. Maybe the nurse had called to say she'd disappeared. The whole place could be in a panic. Lockdown. Maybe even police.
Grandma Beth picked up the phone. "Yes?"
Carly held her breath.
"Yes, she did. I told her you were not getting more money from me." A pause, then a throaty, "No. She's not." She hung up, turned with a hand at her throat. "Now we're both in trouble."
L
ance stood up from the final knob he'd installed in the ladies' powder room door and pressed his hands to his lower back. All the crew had gone home, including Brad. Try as he might, he could not see the reason he and Rese had not.
"Lance—"
He shook his head. "We're done."
"Are you the boss now?" she asked, sitting back on her heels.
He reached down and raised her to her feet. "Yep."
She brought her hands to her hips. "Says who?"
"Says I. In case you haven't noticed, there's no one left to impress. You have proved you can work longer, harder, and better than any man standing. Me included."
She raised her chin. "I'm not proving anything."
"Get-outta-here. I know."
"No you don't."
He hung his hands on his own hips. "Okay, then what are we still doing here?"
"We're . . . I . . . there's something I want to tell you."
"And it couldn't happen in the truck on the drive home because . . ."
"I didn't think of that."
"Well. Now that—"
"Besides, I just want to say it."
It took a lot to rattle her, but she looked anything but comfortable. And if she'd wanted to say it, why hadn't she? "Okay."
She looked away. "After you broke up with me—"
"I didn't—"
"Don't say it, Lance. You told me we couldn't be together, and I couldn't run the inn without you, so I decided to go to work with Brad, and I needed to know that—He'd made a comment about . . . a crush, and I had to know whether . . ."
