Finders Keepers (49 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Finders Keepers
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For an advance look at Fern Michael's next hardcover novel
from Kensington—YESTERDAY, coming in October,
1999—just turn the page . . ..
Prologue
The night was dark, warm and secretive, Brie Canfield thought as she opened the casement windows. She took great, heaving gulps of the honeysuckle-scented air, but it didn't help to alleviate the terrible nightmare she'd just experienced.
Behind her, the air conditioner whirred and wheezed, a sign the filter needed to be changed. The room was dark, too, because she hadn't changed the lightbulb. She hadn't done the dishes either or her laundry. For weeks. Maybe it was months. She simply could not remember.
Brie strained to see something in the darkness, something that would reassure her that things were right, normal—and that life was going to be the way it was before. Cars passed, like ghostly blue shadows. Why did they look like that? She should know. Maybe it was important. She swayed, and her grip on the windowsill tightened so that her knuckles snapped and crackled.
Maybe she needed to eat something—something more substantial than broth and a slice of bread. But the cupboard was bare, the refrigerator empty.
She panicked then. That meant she would have to get dressed and go out to the store. She also had to keep her appointment with the department psychiatrist. Maybe she could do both things on the same day. She took in more deep breaths.
She started to cry, knowing full well that tears wouldn't help. Unless . . . She backed away from the open window and sat down on her bed.
Unless . . . she gave in and called Bode Jessup. Bode would know what to say to her to make things right. She should have called him sooner. Why hadn't she?
Because
I
love him,
and
he doesn't love me,
that's
why. Because he loves
Callie
Parker, one
of my
oldest
and
dearest friends.
She tried to pep-talk herself, but it wasn't going to work because her stomach was tied in knots, and she was sweating profusely, even though the thermostat said it was only sixty-two degrees in the apartment. She began to weep again because there was nothing else for her to do. She couldn't call now—Bode would hear the tears in her voice. So, what was wrong with his knowing she was upset? Why else would she call him in the middle of the night? Although he might think she had called to talk about Callie Parker's wedding . . . to someone other than himself. So, who cared about that either?
Brie's hand stretched out. She didn't need to look up Bode's home phone number, even though she carried it on a slip of paper in her wallet. It was the first name in her address book under the A's. She didn't want his name in the middle of the book. Callie's number was right under Bode's, and so was Sela's. Her three best friends in the whole entire world. And she hadn't called any of them.
Brie snatched her hand back from the phone, howling her despair. Then the phone was suddenly back in her hand. She punched out the area code, followed by Bode's number. While the phone rang, she blew her nose. Five, six, seven rings . . .
She was about to hang up when she heard Bode's voice say: “This better be good, whoever you are, because it's three o'clock in the morning.”
“Bode, it's Brie,” she said, her voice hoarse with all the crying she'd done.
“Brie Canfield, the Brie who's supposed to be my best friend in all the world, the same Brie who says she'll call and write, but doesn't. That Brie?”
“Bode . . .”
His voice was alert now, all trace of sleep and mockery gone. “What's wrong, Brie?”
“Bode . . .” She was whimpering and hated herself for it.
“We've established the fact that I'm Bode, and I'm here on the other end of the phone. Do you want to hang up and call me back, Brie?”
“Bode . . . I . . . Bode, I killed someone. I'm having a real hard time with it.”
“
Whoa
. . . don't spring a hit on me like that. Start at the beginning—the very beginning, Brie. We'll talk. It'll be like old times. Two heads are better than one. Come on now, share. I'm listening.”
“It wasn't just someone. It was a boy. He was sixteen. He had a gun, and he was going to shoot my partner. I told him to put down his gun, but he didn't. I don't know who was more scared—me or him. We both fired. He . . . missed. I didn't.”
“And you decided that you're going to take the rap for this, right? Were there any witnesses?”
“Stop talking to me like the lawyer you are and talk to me like my friend. We are still friends, aren't we? Of course there were witnesses. The Board cleared me. There was a real big stink about it from the boy's parents and friends. They want to transfer me to another precinct. I have to see a shrink once a week, and I do, but I can't get a handle on it. I can't sleep, and I can't eat. All I do is cry. Do you think I'm having a nervous breakdown? I'm afraid to ask the shrink. That's the shape I'm in.”
“No, you are not having a nervous breakdown. Trust me, Brie. What you need is a good dose of Mama Pearl. You're coming home for the wedding, right?”
“Oh, God. Probably not.”
“You mean yes, you are. I'll pick you up at the airport. Did they give you a leave of absence? What do you mean, you can't eat or sleep?”
“Just what I said. Don't pep-talk me, Bode.”
“Do you want me to come out there and bring you back, Brie?”
God, yes, she did, but she'd never admit it. “No, of course not. Bode, I took a life. Kids shouldn't have guns. You should have heard this boy's mother. The kid was a saint, an altar boy, tops in his class, a loving son. The truth is the kid was a gang member, so high on crack his brain should have exploded. He didn't go to school, probably never saw the inside of a church, and beat his mother, who worked two jobs to support herself and five other kids. I killed him. Me.”
“And the alternative? You said he would have killed your partner.”
“Shot him in the back. He's got twenty years in. He was handcuffing another kid and didn't see what was going down. We had two witnesses who saw the whole thing. How can I make this right, Bode? You always had the answers. I need an answer now.”
“You just
thought
I had the answers. You always did give me too much credit. You go on, Brie, because life goes on. You have to put it behind you. That's a goddamn order, Brie.”
“You aren't God, you know.” Brie hiccupped.
“When did this take place?”
“Six weeks ago tomorrow.”
“And you're just calling me NOW! Are you telling me you tried to ride this out by yourself? Did you call Callie or Sela?”
“No. Just you, Bode.”
“I bet you're the best cop San Diego has,” Bode said.
“One of the guys brought over my gun and shield yesterday. They told me to take as much time off as I want. I said I'd let them know. By the way, I've been accepted into the FBI Academy.”
“Then there's nothing to stop you from getting on a plane and heading for South Carolina. Congratulations! Are you on disability or what?”
“Nope. Full pay. It's not the money, Bode.”
“You know what they say, kiddo—the past is prologue. Now, are you going to pack up and do what you have to do to get here?”
“I need some time . . .”
“You had enough time. Why didn't you call Mama Pearl?”
“Because hearing her voice would have done me in. I didn't want to cry again; I wanted to work it out by myself.”
“Is the shrink helping?”
Brie laughed ruefully. “We're up to the part where you're teaching us our numbers under the angel oak. It's very hard, Bode.”
“Life is hard, Brie.”
“Are you referring to—”
“Life. Don't try putting words in my mouth. Now, can I call Callie and Mama Pearl and tell them you'll be coming to South Carolina?”
“Yes, but I don't know when. Thanks for listening, Bode.”
“You should have called me on day one.”
“On day one I didn't even know my own name,” she said.
“See? You should have called me, and I would have told you. Sleep well, Brie. Today is a whole new day, and it's going to be whatever you make of it.”
Brie looked at the pinging receiver in her hand. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she curled up in the big double bed, Now she knew she would sleep. Bode always made things right.
 
In Summerville, South Carolina, Bode Jessup pulled on his jeans and sneakers. A hooded sweatshirt was next. A headache hammered behind his eyes as he wheeled his bike out of the apartment and into the alley. He climbed on, switched on his night-light, and pedaled away. He had a lot of thinking to do.
1
Brie Canfield removed her dark glasses at the same time as she turned off the engine of her rental car. She sat for a moment savoring this time, this place, her mind a crazy quilt of emotions. She climbed from the car, aware of her thin legs when her skirt hiked up to midthigh. She tugged at the elbow-length sleeves, trying to cover her equally skinny arms. She wondered if she looked as bad as she thought she did. How would the others view her? Would they comment on her appearance, or would they pretend she looked healthy and robust? Had Bode called them? Had he alerted them to her arrival? Were they even expecting her today? Hardly, since she hadn't called anyone to tell them what time she was getting in.
Perspiration beaded on her forehead and dripped down her cheeks. She'd forgotten how hot and humid it was in South Carolina in August. It felt good, the warmth seeping into her bones. She hadn't forgotten how beautiful Parker Manor was, though. A feeling of peace settled over her as she walked up to the split-rail fence that defined the perimeters of the Parker place. She could see now that the wood was old and rotted, the paint peeling. When she was younger she'd helped Bode whitewash it every summer.
Overhead, the sun beat down on her head and back. In the distance the main house beckoned her. She looked at it now with adult eyes. It wasn't just beautiful, it was magnificent. Despite the flaking paint, the soaring white columns stood sentinel to another time. The old brick, softened over the years to a warm, petal pink, brought tears to her eyes. She swallowed, a lump in her throat, as she stared at the banks of flowers in bloom, the emerald grass, greener than any jewel, where she'd romped and played as a child.
Yesterday
.
Yesterday was gone, tomorrow wasn't here yet. All she had was today. Today and a lifetime of memories. Bode, Callie, Sela and, of course, Pearl, were such a part of her life it felt like they were all attached by some invisible umbilical cord.
Brie dug her feet into the sandy earth as she propped her elbows on the rotted fence. This was home—maybe not in the legal sense of the word, but it was the only place where she had felt she truly belonged. And all because of Pearl and her childhood friends. She sank down on the turf and closed her eyes. When she opened them again she was a child, driving up the long brick-lined drive surrounded by the glorious angel oaks she was staring at now, twenty-five years later.
“Will I like coming here to play, Mama?” Brie had asked fearfully.
“You'd better like it, as I'm not coming to fetch you till six-thirty. Now, remember, if they ask you to stay for supper, you say yes, it's okay for you to eat with them.”
“What if you forget to come and pick me up? Will I have to sleep here, too?” Brie whimpered.
“If they ask you to sleep over, you can say yes. When Mr. Parker came into the café to ask if you could come out here to play with Miss Callie, he said there would be times when you would eat with Miss Callie and maybe sleep over. You mind your manners, missy, and don't be giving them any problems. You can get out now and walk up to the house.”
“By myself?”
“You're five years old, Brie. Act like it,” her mother said. “I have to get back to work.”
Brie slid from the car. She poked her head in the open window, and cried, “What if they don't like me, Mama? If they don't like me, should I come out here to the fence and wait for you?”
Mrs. Canfield worked her face into something that resembled a smile and a frown. “It's up to you to make them like you. I don't have the money to pay someone to watch you during the summer, Brie. You'll have to stay by yourself at the apartment, the way you did this last year. You need to be responsible. You went to kindergarten. You were supposed to learn how to get along with other kids. You did, didn't you?” She sounded like she didn't care one way or the other.
“Yes, Mama.”
“Go along now, I have to get back to the café.”
“Good-bye, Mama.” She stretched her head as far into the car as she could, hoping her mother would give her a kiss or a pat on the head, but she didn't. Brie backed away until her little body was pressed against the fence. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She wiped at them with the sleeve of her dress. She just wanted to cry and cry until she fell asleep in the bright sunshine with the umbrella of trees that dripped Spanish moss.
She looked down the drive then, at the big white house with its stately columns. It hurt her eyes to stare at it, pretty as it was. It was Callie Parker's home. She must be a princess, Brie decided. And her father, the king, asked Brie's mother if she could come here and play. She wondered if Callie Parker, the princess, had a magic wand that she waved around. Maybe she wasn't a plain princess, but a fairy princess. Miss Roland read stories about fairy princesses in school. Or maybe Callie Parker was like Cinderella.
Brie started to weep again as she allowed herself to crumple to the ground alongside the fence. What was she going to do if the princess didn't like her, or want to play with her‘
!
“I'm going to stay right here and wait for my mama to come and get me,” she said defiantly. Eventually she dozed off, the sun warming her trembling body. She didn't wake until she felt herself being picked up and cradled in strong arms.
“Chile, are you all right? How did you get here? Who are you?”
“My name is Briana Canfield. My mama brought me here to play with Miss Callie. Is she a princess? Are you her mama? My mama said I had to make you like me so I could stay. I don't know how to play with a princess. I was waiting for my mama to come back for me. How long is it till six-thirty?”
“Lord, chile, that's a
long
time. That's suppertime here at Parker Manor. We don't have any princesses here or even a prince. We have a little girl and a little boy. My name is Pearl and I take care of things here. I'm going to take care of you, too.”
“Truly you will?” Brie said, her eyes round with awe.
“Truly I will,” Pearl declared, hugging her so tight Brie found herself gasping, but she didn't loosen the hold she had on Pearl's neck.
“Does that mean you will love me? What do you want me to do, Miss Pearl? I can fold towels and dry the dishes. I know how to make my bed, and I carry the trash outside to the can.”
She got a second hug, this one even better than the first. “It feels good when you do that,” she whispered.
“Doesn't your mother hug you, chile?” Pearl asked in surprise, as she rocked the small body in her arms.
“Hardly ever. She's too busy making a living and going to town with people she says are my uncles. I don't think I have any uncles. Miss Roland at school said I didn't have any uncles. Am I too heavy for you, Miss Pearl?”
“Honey, you're lighter than a feather. You look tuckered out, so I have a mind to carry you all the way up this long drive, around the back, and into the house where you can have breakfast with Bode and Miss Callie. That's if you haven't eaten yet. Have you?”
“No, Miss Pearl. Mama gave me a donut. She had to drive me here and then go to work. She didn't have time to make me breakfast,” Brie said as she tried to mash herself closer to the large black woman holding her. She felt so good, so snug and secure, and the kisses Pearl was giving her felt better than anything she'd ever experienced in her young life.
The closer they got to the main house, the wider Brie's eyes became. “Is this a palace, Miss Pearl? It looks like a picture in my storybooks.”
“It's just a house, child. It looks big because it's white, and the sun shines on it. I think you're going to like coming here to play.”
“Will the children like me?” Brie asked, her face puckered in worry.
“Of course. Another little girl is coming out today, too. Mr. Parker made the arrangements. I thought you were both coming together. If I had known you'd be here this early and alone, I would have walked out to meet you. It's not nice to leave guests alone at the gates.”
“I don't mind, Miss Pearl. Did my mama make a mistake? I can tell her if she did.”
“No, chile. I'm the one who's at fault. I guess I didn't understand Mr. Parker's instructions. It looks like we have a welcoming committee.” Pearl set Brie down on her feet.
Brie hung on to Pearl's skirt, her face flushed, as she stared at the two children on the back porch. She felt tears well in her eyes at the sight of Callie Parker in her pink, ruffled dress with the matching hair ribbon. Her gold hair hung in ringlets about her ears, but it was the heart-shaped locket around her neck that drew Brie's eye. She
had
to be a princess; only princesses wore gold around their necks. With five-year-old wisdom, she knew she was dressed all wrong. Her frock was old and faded, her shoes scuffed and unpolished, her socks a grayish color. She didn't have a hair ribbon in her own dark hair; she didn't even have a barrette. Her hair was pulled back with a rubber band. Brie wanted to cry again until she felt Pearl's hand in her own. The woman gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“Miss Callie, Bode, this is Briana Canfield. I think she likes to be called Brie. Her mother brought her out here to play with you. There's going to be another little girl coming at lunchtime. I want you all to be friends, but first I'm going to make breakfast. You can all sit here on the back swing and get acquainted. Briana, this is Callie Parker and Bode Jessup.”
Brie's eyes followed Pearl as she walked through the kitchen door. The urge to cry again was so strong she pinched herself. This hurt so bad her eyes started to smart. She blinked hard and fast so the children wouldn't think she was crying. “I like Miss Pearl. A lot,” she said.
“You should like her a lot,” the boy named Bode said. “She's the nicest person in the world.”
“I love her,” Callie said. “Loving is better than liking, isn't it, Bode?”
Bode pondered the question. Because he was seven years old, Callie thought he knew everything. He always tried to come up with a response that made sense. He knew he could fib to Callie and she wouldn't know the difference because she was only four and believed everything she was told, but he didn't like to lie. “Today Brie likes her,” he said. “Tomorrow she can love her like we do. Today is the first day. Will you love her tomorrow, Brie?”
“Oh yes. Maybe by tonight even.”
“Push us, Bode,” Callie said. “Hold my hand, Brie. Then you move your legs in and out when Bode pushes us. He hops on after we get going good.”
Brie did as instructed, squealing with delight.
“Bode pushes better than Pearl. He does everything the best. I love Bode. Do you love Bode, Brie? Pearl says everyone loves Bode. If Pearl says it, then it's true words,” four-year-old Callie said importantly. “Do you love him?”
“Yes,” Brie mumbled as she worked her legs under the swing to pick up momentum.
“Tell Brie about your name, Bode. She needs to know that. Pearl said we have to 'splain things.”
Bode walked around to the front of the swing. He grinned at Brie. “You spell my name B-o-w-d-e-y Jessup. But,” he said, holding up his hand, “you pronounce it Bo-dee and you spell it Bode. My teacher figured it out for me. Mama Pearl said it was right, so it's right. Mama Pearl never tells a lie. Never!” he repeated solemnly.
“You have to love Pearl, too, but you can't love her as much as we do,” Callie piped up. “We were here first, and Pearl loves us first, too. That means she loves us more—isn't that right, Bode?”
“No, that's not right. Don't you be saying things like that to hurt Brie's feelings. Pearl has lots and lots of love.”
“She loves me most, she truly does. You came after me, Bode, and now Brie is here. She has to love me more. Pe-e-e-arll!” she wailed.
The housekeeper was out on the porch in the time it took Brie to take a breath. “What's wrong, honey?”
Bode shuffled his feet and Brie hung her head. Pearl repeated the question, her voice stern once she was satisfied that Callie was all right and hadn't fallen off the swing.
Hands on hips, head tilted to the side, Pearl said, “I'm waiting to see what that caterwauling was all about. Some chile on this porch better speak to me quick.”
“You love me best—that's true words, right, Pearl? I love you best, then I love Bode, and then I love Brie. Tell them the true words, Pearl.”
Brie stared at her new friend and saw how anxious the little girl was. Instinct told her it was very important for her new friend to be loved best. She looked at Bode, saw his miserable eyes. He wanted to be loved best, too—she could tell. So did she. She remembered how wonderful it had felt when Pearl picked her up and cuddled her. Childishly, she crossed her fingers and said under her breath:
“Let her pick me. Just for today. Please let it be
me.
”
Pearl's hands moved. Bode hopped on the swing, his eyes glued to Pearl as he waited.

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