When Wishes Collide (26 page)

"I'll think of one in the shower." He leaned over and kissed her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said with a happy smile. "We're going to find her, Wyatt. I'm more convinced of that than ever."

* * *

As Wyatt took his beautifully rugged body into the bathroom, Adrianna threw on her clothes and walked into the living room. She put on some coffee and then pulled out her cell phone. She'd been running through the clues they had, and she had an idea.

"Hi Lindsay, it's me," she said when her friend answered.

"It's eight o'clock on a Sunday morning," Lindsay grumbled.

"Really? That late, then you should be up."

"What are you so happy about?" Lindsay asked suspiciously.

"I need a favor. You have a friend in a band, right?"

"You mean Danny, the drummer?"

"Yes. I need to find a San Francisco music promoter whose first name is Brad. He books acts into local clubs. Do you think Danny might know him?"

"I take it this has to do with your hot cop."

"Yes. Brad is linked to Wyatt's ex-wife."

"I'll call Danny. He may not be up yet," Lindsay warned.

"Get back to me as soon as you can. And call me on my cell phone."

"Because you're not at home?" Lindsay ventured.

She smiled to herself. "No, I'm at Wyatt's condo."

"Really?" Her friend's voice was filled with curiosity. "Did you spend the night there?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," she confessed.

"Oh, my God, Adrianna. You slept with him? Are you okay? Was it great? I hope it wasn't horrible. It couldn't have been horrible, or you wouldn't still be there."

She laughed as Lindsay rambled on. "It was amazing. That's all I have to say."

"There's no way that's all you have to say. I want details."

"Well, you're not getting any right now. Wyatt will be out of the shower any second."

"You left him in there alone?" Lindsay asked with disappointment. "You can have a lot of fun in a shower, Adrianna."

"I had a lot of fun last night – maybe a little too much," she said, feeling slightly guilty. She had pushed Will out of her mind the night before, but now he was back.

"No, don't do that," Lindsay said quickly. "Don't think about Will."

"It hasn't been very long since –"

"Since you were happy," Lindsay finished, cutting her off. "Will would want you to be happy. He was your best friend, Adrianna. Don't wreck this new relationship out of some misplaced sense of loyalty. You're not betraying Will."

"I'm trying to not think that way," she admitted. "It's just not fair that he's gone. He was so young. He had so much to live for. How can I be happy when he's dead?"

"Nothing about this situation is fair. But you're still alive, and you have to go on living. And that means you get to be happy, too."

"Well, this may turn out to be nothing more than a one-night stand. Wyatt's life is complicated right now. He has other priorities, and I'm okay with that."
 

"You say that now, but what about tomorrow or the next day? Do you really want to be in second place all the time?"

As she thought about Lindsay's question, her gaze caught on a hand-drawn picture hanging on the fridge, and the crayon markings took away any doubts. "Wyatt needs to find his daughter. That's all that matters now."

"And when he gets her back – where does that leave you? I'm just worried that he's using you."

"I don't know what will happen when he gets Stephanie back," she said, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach at the idea of never seeing or being with Wyatt again. But she couldn't go there. She'd gone into the night with her eyes wide open, and she'd live with the consequences. "I'll be okay," she said. "Whatever happens."

"I hope so. But I know you, and you don't sleep with people you don't care about. Your heart is in this, whether you want to say so or not."

She couldn't argue with that. "Call me when you reach Danny."

"I will."

As she set down her phone, Adrianna got up and walked over to the refrigerator. Stephanie had drawn a picture of a house with trees and flowers nearby. There were also two stick figures of a man and a child. The word
Daddy
was printed along the bottom of the paper.

Adrianna felt a twinge of physical pain at the sight of that one word.

She had to help Wyatt get back together with Stephanie. She wouldn't be able to let go of him until that happened.

A little voice inside her wondered how she'd be able to let go
after
that happened, but she pushed that thought aside.

Wyatt walked into the kitchen, barefoot, wearing low slung jeans, his chest bare, his hair still damp enough to leave drips of water along his shoulders.

Her breath caught in her throat. His gaze met hers. And the desire she'd thought they'd worked out the night before was back.

"Coffee," she sputtered, dragging her gaze away from his. "I made coffee."

"Thanks," he said.

She moved over to the coffee maker and poured him a cup. "I would make breakfast, but you don't have any food."

"I haven't been shopping in a while. I'll take you out to eat."

"You don't have to do that," she said.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

"Adrianna," he began, cut off by the ring of her phone.

"That's Lindsay," she said, grabbing the phone. "That was fast. Did you find out anything?"

"Yes. It turns out Danny knows Brad pretty well. His last name is Pennington by the way. Danny said Brad works out of his house and recently moved into a condo in Russian Hill – 1426 Hyde Street."

Her heart leapt into her throat. She had an actual address. "I owe you big time."

"I plan on collecting. Good luck!"

She ended the call and turned to Wyatt with excitement. "I found the music promoter --Brad."

"How?" he asked in shock.

"I remembered that Lindsay used to date a guy in a band. I took a chance that he might know Brad, and he did. Brad just moved into a condo in Russian Hill, not very far from North Beach or the fountain where I saw the girls."

Hope flashed in his eyes. "Let's go."

She ran into the bedroom, searching for her shoes, while Wyatt quickly threw on a shirt. Then they were in his car and headed across town. She prayed that this time their lead wouldn't turn into a dead end.

* * *

Brad Pennington lived on the first floor of a six unit building on a portion of Hyde Street where the cable cars ran. One was just clanging its way past his front door when Adrianna and Wyatt arrived.

"Security building," Wyatt said grimly, looking at the directory. "There's his name. He's not hiding."

"Why would he be?" she asked. "He may not have any idea what Jen is up to."

"Good point."

She glanced at her watch. "It's only eight-thirty. Do you think a music promoter is going to be up this early on a Sunday morning?"

"Let's wake him up," Wyatt said.

"Wait. If Jen is inside and you announce yourself as a cop, she might try to run."

He nodded, his expression grim. "Fine. You do it. Ring the bell, tell him something."

 
She thought for a moment. "I'll use Danny's name. I'll say I'm a friend." She pushed the doorbell.

No one answered.

Her nerves tightened.

She tried the buzzer again. She did not want this to end here on the street. Brad Pennington had to be home. It was too early for him to be anywhere else. And they needed a break – just one break.

She could feel Wyatt's tension as they waited. He had his hands on hips, his fingers clenched into fists. He was ready to fight.

She rang the bell a third time.

Finally, the speaker began to crackle. "Yeah?" a man answered.

"It's Adrianna. I'm Danny's friend. He said you could help me."

"Never heard of you. Come back later."

"Wait. It will just take a second. I work at the Vinyl Room," she said, naming a well-known club down the street from her apartment. "You'll want to hear what I have to say. Trust me. I wouldn't be here otherwise. It could be a great deal for you. Five minutes, that's all I need," she added, trying to sound as persuasive as she possibly could.

"All right. You've got five minutes."

"We're in," she whispered to Wyatt as the front door buzzed.

His answering smile was tight, his eyes determined. "You did good. I'll take it from here." He led the way up the stairs. The door to 3B was partially open. They could hear the TV on … and the sound of a child's voice.

Wyatt froze.

She put her hand on his back. "Go on," she said quietly.

She felt his body tense as he drew in a breath, and then he pushed the door open.

On the couch in the living room were two little girls eating cereal and watching cartoons.

A man came down the hall wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt. But Wyatt wasn't looking at him, he was staring at the girl whose blue gaze had swung to his.

"Stephanie," he breathed, surging forward.

"Daddy?" the little girl asked, shock on her face. Her spoon dropped into her cereal with a splatter.
 

"It's me," Wyatt said, moving across the room. Stephanie looked the same and yet different. Her blond hair was dark brown and longer than he remembered. He wanted to throw his arms around her, but someone stopped him. It took him a minute to realize that Brad had grabbed his arm.

"What the hell is going on?" the man demanded. "Who are you?"

"Wyatt Randall. You've got my daughter, and I'm taking her back," he said flatly.

"Hold on. She doesn't have a dad," Brad returned, refusing to let go. He turned his head and yelled, "Carly, get the hell out here."

"Yeah, get her out here," Wyatt said, feeling a rush of fury that gave him enough strength to shake out of Brad's grip.

As he turned back to Stephanie, he saw that she and the other little girl were cowering in the corner between the couch and the wall. They were clearly terrified.

It broke his heart that his daughter was looking at him with fear in her eyes.
Fear
! What had Jen told her about him?

"Carly," Brad yelled again.
 
"Don't you move," he warned Wyatt. "Not one more step."

"He's a cop," Adrianna cut in. "He's an inspector with the SFPD and that little girl was kidnapped."

Stephanie's eyes grew wider at the word
kidnapped
.

"It's me, baby," he said, holding her gaze. "You don't have to be afraid. It's Daddy."

Stephanie's lips curled in confusion, her expression a mix of confusion and uncertainty.

"I don't know anything about a kidnapping," Brad said loudly. "This has to be a mistake."

"It's not a mistake," he said, not even bothering to look at Brad.

And then he heard her voice, the voice of his nightmares.

"Wyatt?" she said.

He turned around and there she was – the woman he'd spent two years searching for. Jen was super skinny, all long limbs and bony angles. Her hair had been dyed dark brown and was cut very short. She wore black knit pants and a tank top, and she looked like she'd just gotten out of bed. As she gazed back at him, her brown eyes filled with fear and what looked to be defeat.

"You finally found me," she said. "I knew coming back here was a mistake, but I didn't know where else to go."

"What is going on, Carly?" Brad demanded.

"Her name isn't Carly. It's Jennifer," Wyatt bit out.

Jen looked at Brad. "He's right. My name is Jennifer, and this is my ex-husband, Wyatt Randall."

Wyatt couldn't believe she was standing there making introductions as if they were at a party. "You stole my child. How could you do that?"

"Our child," she said passionately. "You were taking her away from me."

"I had a good reason," he said.
 

"There's no reason good enough to separate a mother from her child."

"But there is to take that child away from her father?" he snapped. Anger burned through his veins. He wanted to hit her, shake her, scream at her, the years of frustration and fear and loneliness ripping him apart like a tidal wave hitting the beach.

But the sound of Stephanie's sob spun him around. She was clinging to the girl next to her, her eyes filling with tears. She obviously had no idea what was going on.

And suddenly he didn't care about Jen anymore.

He moved across the room and squatted down next to her so that she wouldn't be scared. "I missed you, Steph. Brown Bear missed you, too. He's still sitting on your bed waiting for you to come home."