A Change in Altitude (26 page)

Unable to look at the bereft lilacs any longer, she returned to the library front desk. Though the library opened at ten, she seldom saw a patron much before noon on Saturdays. This left plenty of time to devote to the exhibit about the Eureka Women's Society she planned for the front display case.

But she had scarcely opened the case when the front door opened and a tall, thin young man sidled in. He had a big backpack on his back, his nose was sun-burned, and his jeans and T-shirt were gray with dirt. Cassie wrinkled her nose. Occasionally these young vagrants passed through town, on their way to Denver or some other place where they could camp in the parks and panhandle for beer or drug money. She'd let him know quick enough that the library was not a public rest stop and he had best move along.

She moved out from behind the front desk and met him halfway across the room. “We do not have public restrooms or a phone you can use,” she said.

He blinked at her, brown eyes shining from beneath the curtain of his shaggy blond bangs. “Do you have a newspaper I could read?” he asked. “And a local phone book?”

“Who do you want to look up? The town isn't that big, and I know most of the residents.”

His gaze remained steady, undaunted. “Maybe just the paper, then.”

“The newspapers are for our patrons. People with library cards.”

He glanced over her shoulder, toward the front desk. “This is a public library, isn't it?”

“That doesn't mean any vagrant off the street is free to loiter here.”

“What makes you think I'm a vagrant? Maybe I'm a tourist. Or maybe I'm a new resident.” He drew himself up taller, as if his dirty jeans and worn backpack were merely a costume he'd put on as a lark.

Despite the bravado, Cassie realized he was young. His cheeks were smooth, the barest peach fuzz glinting above his lip. Dark half-moons shadowed his eyes, and he had a pinched, hungry look.

Which didn't mean she was going to let him take advantage of her. “Where did you spend the night last night?” she asked.

“That's none of your business.”

“I doubt you walked all the way from Montrose this morning, so you must have camped somewhere nearby. You were probably waiting for the library to open. Did you see who took my lilacs?”

“Your lilacs?” Confusion replaced bravado.

“Someone sneaked up here last night and cut every bloom off the lilacs in front of the library. Did you see them? Do you know anything about the crime?”

“I didn't think it was a crime to cut flowers.”

“So you
do
know something!” She leaned toward him. “Did you take them?”

“What would I want with a bunch of lilacs?” He started to turn away, but she grabbed his arm. He tried to shake her off, but she held on. Wynock women had always been strong, and she was no exception.

“I'll let you see the phone book,” she said. “Just wait right here.”

She retreated to her office and pulled the phone book from the bookshelf above her desk. Through the glass overlooking the main library, she watched the young man look through the display of newspapers in the reading area. Stealthily, she lifted the phone and punched in Sergeant Miller's number.

“Sergeant Miller, Eureka County Sheriff's Department.”

“Sergeant, I have a suspect I want you to question.”

“A suspect in what? Who is this?”

“This is Cassie Wynock. I have a young man here I believe knows something about the theft of the lilacs.”

“Who is it?”

“I don't know his name. He's a stranger here. He looks like a hobo. But I'm sure he knows something.”

The sergeant sighed heavily. She'd have to talk to the sheriff about Officer Miller's attitude. “I'll be over in a few minutes,” he said, and disconnected the call.

She returned to the young man and offered him the phone book. He checked the cover. “This is from last year.”

“Things don't change that quickly around here.”

He set the book aside. “It won't have what I want.” He shouldered his backpack once more. “Maybe you can just tell me how to find the nearest café. Someplace that might let me wash dishes in exchange for a meal.”

“The Last Dollar is two blocks over. The owners, Janelle and Danielle, are softhearted enough they might let you do a few chores for them.” And they would keep him occupied until Sergeant Miller bothered to show up.

“Okay. Thanks.”

She let him leave, and stood in the doorway, watching for the sergeant's car. She had such a strong feeling about the young bum, as if his showing up here this morning was significant in some way. Obviously, her keen sixth sense had pegged him as the key to solving the mystery of her vanished lilacs. It paid to listen to that kind of intuition.

Ten minutes later, long after the young man had slouched off down the sidewalk, Sergeant Miller's cruiser turned the corner. “What took you so long?” Cassie asked, greeting him on the sidewalk before he had even fully exited the vehicle.

“I went on another call.” He straightened to his full six foot two and regarded her over the open car door. “Where is this dangerous suspect?”

“I never said he was dangerous. Why? Do you think he's dangerous?”

“I don't even know who we're talking about. Is he inside?”

“He went over to the Last Dollar to see if the girls would let him wash dishes for his dinner. That's as good an admission as any that he was broke.”

“Being broke isn't any more of a crime than cutting flowers,” Sergeant Miller said.

“They took every blossom! That's vandalism.”

“What makes you think this guy knows anything?” the sergeant asked.

“Because when I asked him if he'd seen anyone messing with the flowers, he stopped looking me in the eye and changed the subject.” She drew herself up taller. “And because I have very good instincts about these things.”

“Uh-huh.” Frowning, he lowered himself back into the seat.

“Are you going to question him?” Cassie asked.

“I might.”

“Then I'm going with you.” Without waiting for an invitation, she opened the passenger door and settled into the seat.

“Cassie!” He lowered his voice. “Miss Wynock, I really don't need your help with this.”

“If I don't go with you, you're liable to just blow me off. Besides, I can point him out to you.”

“What about the library?”

“No one comes this time on a Saturday morning. If they do, most of them know how to check out their own books, and the loafers don't need me there for them to read the paper and nap.” She fastened her seat belt and looked at him expectantly.

He glared at her a long moment, then clicked on his own safety belt and put the car in gear.

He parked the patrol car in a no parking zone in front of the restaurant. Cassie had to wait for him to unlock her door, but then she led the way into the Last Dollar, where a few tourists—and Bob—lingered over late breakfasts. “We're looking for the young man who just came in here,” Cassie said. “The one with the backpack.”

“What do you want with him?” Danielle folded her arms across her chest, a stubborn set to her chin.

“The sergeant needs to question him about a crime,” Cassie said.

“Miss Wynock thinks the young man may know something about the lilac blossoms that disappeared from the bushes in front of the library sometime last night or early this morning.”

“Janelle is fixing him a plate,” Danielle said. “He was waiting here when we came from the wedding. The poor boy was starved. He told us he'd walked all the way from Montrose yesterday.”

“I don't have any reason to think he's done anything wrong,” Sergeant Miller said. “Could I talk to him a minute?”

Danielle softened. “All right. I'll go get him.”

“Would you like to sit down?” The sergeant motioned toward an empty booth.

Cassie slid into the booth and he sat across from her. A moment later, the boy she'd seen earlier, minus the backpack, emerged from the kitchen, flanked by Janelle and Danielle. “This is Josh Miller,” Danielle said. “He just wants to talk to you a minute.”

The sergeant's face changed when he saw the boy. He actually smiled. “Welcome to Eureka, son,” he said. “I know someone who's going to be very glad to see you.”

The boy halted by the table and looked confused. “I don't think we've met.”

“No, but I've looked at your picture often enough. A lot of people have been looking for you. Your mother's been beside herself with worry.”

“You know my mom?” The boy looked wary, ready to bolt.

“Sharon has been worried about you. I told her you sounded like a smart, resourceful kid. Did you hitchhike all the way from Vermont?”

He nodded. “I walked a lot, too. Not many people want to give a guy a ride.”

Cassie fidgeted. What were they talking about? And didn't they know it was rude not to include everyone in the conversation? “Are you saying you know this boy, Sergeant?” she asked. “Who is he?”

Sergeant Miller stood and clapped the boy on the shoulder. “This is Adan Franklin. Sharon's son.”

“Oh, how wonderful!” Danielle clapped her hands together. “Sharon will be so relieved.”

“I thought you were living with your father,” Cassie said.

“I was, until we had an argument. He told me if I didn't like the way he did things, I could leave. So I did.” He turned to Josh. “The judge at the divorce hearing said I was old enough to decide who I wanted to live with, and I decided I want to stay with Mom.”

“She'll be glad to hear it.” He patted the boy's shoulder. “As soon as you've eaten, I'll take you to your mom.”

Adan grinned. “I already ate.” He glanced at Janelle. “But I promised to wash dishes.”

“Put the boy's food on my tab.” Bob spoke up from his table. “Tell his mom I'm glad her prodigal found his way home.”

“Thanks, mister,” Adan said.

Bob waved away the thanks. “Go on. Sharon's been worried about you.”

“I guess we'd better go,” Josh said. “Does anybody know if Sharon's home? I could call ahead, but I'd kind of like to surprise her.”

“I think she's at the hospital with Jameso and Maggie,” Danielle said. She turned to Adan. “Your uncle got married this morning and his new wife went into labor right after the ceremony.”

“Then I'll take him to the hospital. He can meet the whole family.”

“Aren't you going to ask him about the lilacs?” Cassie asked.

Sergeant Miller gave her a stern look. “Give it a rest, Cassie. The lilacs will bloom again next year.”

She started to protest, then clamped her mouth shut. All this fuss over one boy who'd obviously done a fine job of looking out for himself.

“I'm sorry about your lilacs, Cassie.”

She looked up to find Danielle standing over her. “They were beautiful flowers,” the young woman said. “I smiled every time I drove past them. I know you're going to miss them.”

“Yes, they were beautiful,” Cassie said. “Thank you.” The girl's thoughtfulness surprised her, especially since Cassie had never been particularly nice to her.

“It's too bad there's no way to get the flowers back now,” Danielle said. “But at least Sharon can get her son back. That's a little miracle worth celebrating, isn't it?”

Cassie didn't believe in miracles, or in celebrations, for that matter. But she got the point. “I'm sure this will be a huge relief to Sharon,” she said. “I'm glad the boy is safe. I mean, I'm not completely insensitive.”

“Of course you aren't.” Danielle patted her shoulder. “Would you like some coffee? And how about a cinnamon roll? There are still a couple of fresh ones left.”

“I really should get back to the library,” she said.

“I can wrap it to go.”

“That would be lovely, then. Thank you.” She doubted if she'd be able to walk up to the library for the next few weeks without a pang of sorrow for the lost lilac blossoms, but the sergeant was right. They would bloom again next year. That was the wonderful thing about a heritage. You never really lost the gift your ancestors had left you. People who didn't have that connection to history didn't understand that. They could celebrate births and weddings and reunions, but without the richer context of history to imbue those events with meaning, they must be left feeling a little shallow, shouldn't they?

S
haron couldn't stop smiling at her brother. Jameso looked like an awkward giant, cradling his baby daughter in his arms, an almost comical expression of besotted love transforming his rugged face. He stroked his finger across one tiny cheek. “She's so perfect,” he breathed.

“She is,” Maggie agreed. She wore the smile of weary exhaustion Sharon remembered from her own deliveries. The birth had gone smoothly, the baby arriving only five hours after Maggie arrived at the hospital.

“What are you going to name her?” Alina asked. She perched on the side of Sharon's chair in the corner of the hospital room. Like everyone else in the room, her gaze was fixed on the red-faced, swaddled infant. She hadn't asked to hold the baby, but Sharon guessed by the way Alina sat on her hands and fidgeted, that she wanted to.

“We're going to call her Angela, after my mother,” Maggie said.

“Angela.” Alina repeated the name. “I can't wait to babysit her.”

“We'll both look after her,” Sharon said. She patted Alina's arm. “At least at first. After all, an infant is a big responsibility.”

“Don't remind me,” Maggie said. “I'm terrified of taking her home.” She looked at Jameso, who was cooing to his daughter, oblivious to anyone else in the room.

“Don't worry,” Sharon said. “You'll do great. I was only fifteen when I had Adan and I knew absolutely nothing about babies, but we all managed to survive.”

“Everyone tells me instinct will kick in,” Maggie said. “But I've never been one to trust my instincts.”

Instinct was all Sharon had had to rely on with Adan—that and frantic phone calls to her mother. As a girl, she'd never even played with dolls; then suddenly, she had a real-life doll depending on her for everything. Joe was no help. At the first sign of a dirty diaper or baby whimpers, he'd disappear. But somehow they'd survived.

She hoped her boy was surviving still. He was the type who would take to the woods and avoid the police—just as his father had taught him. No telling how long before the police found him or someone responded to the missing child posters authorities had distributed.

“I guess we'll have to move all of that nursery furniture from my house to the B and B,” Maggie said.

“Junior Dominick is doing it this afternoon,” Barb said. “Don't worry about a thing. I even got that baby animal wallpaper border you picked out and the white eyelet curtains and everything.”

Maggie shook her head. “I can't believe you've been planning all this for months and never even breathed a word.”

Barb fluffed her hair. “There's nothing I like better than plotting.”

Maggie turned to Sharon. “I'd offer you my house, but it's the same size and configuration as Jameso's, so it wouldn't give you any more room. Besides, I'm pretty sure the landlord already has it leased to summer visitors.”

“You don't have to worry about me,” Sharon said. She sat up a little straighter, unable to keep a smile from her face. “I've found a new place—a great apartment with two bedrooms, within walking distance of the library even.”

“Where did you find that?” Jameso asked. “Maggie and I looked for months and didn't turn up anything.”

“It's one of the apartments over the hardware store. Gerald Pershing was living there. As soon as I heard he was moving out, I called the landlord and asked to rent it.”

“I'm impressed,” Jameso said. “How did you know who to call?”

“Josh Miller told me. He has the apartment across the hall.”

“So are you and the handsome deputy an item?” Barb asked.

Sharon's cheeks burned. “We're friends. That's all.” She reached over and took Alina's hand. “I want to spend time finding out who I am before I get involved with anyone else.”

“I always knew you were smart,” Jameso said.

A knock on the door interrupted their laughter. Josh Miller, dressed in his sheriff's department khakis, leaned into the room. “Sorry to disturb y'all,” he said. “I'm looking for Sharon.”

“Me?” she squeaked. Her heart pounded and she felt dizzy. She couldn't help it; the sight of a law enforcement officer these days produced an instant mixture of hope and fear. Hope that they had found her son, and fear that they hadn't. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing is wrong. I just brought somebody I think you'll want to see.”

He stepped aside and a young man appeared in the door behind him. A tall, blond, shaggy-haired young man. “Adan!” Sharon spoke the word on a sob and tried to stand, but her legs refused to support her.

Instead, her son came to her and hugged her tightly. “Hey, Mom.”

“Where have you been? What happened? How did you get here?” She cradled his face in her hands, scarcely able to believe he was really here.

“I didn't mean to upset you,” he said. “I couldn't live with Dad anymore, and I took off. I couldn't remember your phone number, but I remembered the town name—Eureka. So I just decided to come to you.”

“I can't believe you came all that way by yourself. You must be exhausted. And starving.”

“The ladies at the Last Dollar—Janelle and Danielle? They fed me. And an old man—Bob—paid for my meal. Josh—Sergeant Miller—gave me this shirt. He said I couldn't come to you in the one I had.” Adan smiled shyly. “I guess it was pretty dirty.”

“But how did you find Janelle and Danielle and Bob and Josh?” She marveled at all the people who had seen him before she even knew he was back in town.

“I tried to find you in the phone book at the library, but the old lady there called the cops on me. But that worked out okay, because Officer Miller knew you and brought me here.”

Sharon laughed. “Of course Cassie called the cops.” But in this case, it had been the exact right thing to do. “I'm so glad to see you.” She hugged him tightly again. “I'm not going to let you leave again. Not for a very long time.”

“That's okay, Mom. I'm ready to stay for a while.”

“Hello, Adan.” Jameso came to stand beside him and offered his hand to the boy. “I'm your uncle Jay—but everyone calls me Jameso now.”

“Pleased to meet you, sir.”

“And this is my wife, Maggie. And our brand-new daughter, Angela.”

“We're all happy to meet you,” Maggie said. She tried and failed to suppress a yawn. “I'm sorry. It's been a big day.”

“Aunt Maggie and Uncle Jameso got married this morning,” Alina said. “She went into labor right after the ceremony.”

“And now she needs to rest.” Sharon stood and put one arm around each of her children. “Come on, kids. Let's go home.”

“That sounds really good,” Adan said.

“Yes, it does.” Home. The people who said it was the place where they had to take you in were wrong. Home was the place that welcomed those who were dear to you. Where the people who mattered to you mattered to those around you as well.

She had felt she didn't fit in Eureka, that she would always be separate and outside, a woman without a family who was too damaged to know how to have a family.

But the people here had showed her differently. Family wasn't merely the people related to you by blood. Family was made up of all the people who cared about you and those you loved. For so long she'd believed her family was lost to her—but she'd found them in Eureka.