FOR THE BABY'S SAKE (15 page)

Howard put a hand over his mouth. “Oh, no. I completely forgot. Trust me, it’s fine. They’re great people.”

“I’m not comfortable with this,” Liz said.

“Come on. We’re both here. You don’t feel well. You surely don’t want to stick around while I run all the way across town to get them from my office. You won’t want to come back later. You’ll probably be sleeping. So, let’s just get this over with.”

Unfortunately, everything he’d said was true. “Okay. But fax them to me tomorrow. Please don’t forget. I need the information for my files.”

After a quick stop at the hospital gift shop to pick up a box of candy, they checked in at the nurses’ desk on the Maternity floor. They got the room number and walked down the long hallway. When they got there, they saw Melissa sitting up in her bed, watching a game show.

“Hi, Melissa,” Liz spoke softly from the doorway, not wanting to scare the young woman. “How are you?”

“Hi, Liz. I’m okay, I guess.”

Liz smiled at her client. Melissa Stroud had graduated from high school just three months earlier. She’d been the valedictorian of her class. Her gown had been big enough that the visitors, all the parents and aunts and uncles and grandparents proudly coming to see their offspring, probably hadn’t realized that she was six months pregnant.

They’d have all been shocked that a smart girl like that could have gotten herself in trouble.

The father of the baby had been the salutatorian. First and second in their class.

Two smart kids having dumb sex.

“I’ve brought Howard Fraypish with me. You’ve talked to him on the phone.”

“Okay.”

Liz wasn’t worried that the girl didn’t show more emotion. Generally, that was how most of the girls got through the adoption process. They simply shut off their feelings.

“How’s the baby?” Liz asked.

“Good. The nurses said she was real pretty.”

Liz thought she caught just the hint of pride in the girl’s voice. “You haven’t seen her?”

“No. They said I could. Even after I told them I was giving her away. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.” And suddenly, a tear slipped out of Melissa’s eye, running down the smooth surface of her eighteen-year-old face.

She brushed it away with the back of her hand. “It’s stupid to cry. I’m giving her away. That’s what I want. That’s what I planned on.”

Liz felt her own tears threaten to fall. She blinked her eyes furiously. No matter how right the decision was, it was always painful. “You’re a very brave girl, Melissa.”

The girl shook her head. “I’m never going to sleep with another boy again as long as I live.”

Liz smiled and patted the young girl’s arm. “Someday you will meet a fine man. He’ll make your heart race and your palms sweat.” Just like Sawyer did to her. “The two of you will get married, and you’ll have beautiful, brilliant children. Your heart will heal. Trust me.”

Melissa sniffed. “It’s hard to think about things like that. I hope she understands why I had to do this. I hope she realizes that it wasn’t because I didn’t love her.”

“She’ll understand,” Liz assured the young girl, whose circumstances had forced her to become mature fast. “After all, she has a very smart mother. She’ll understand all kinds of things.”

Melissa smiled. “Well, let’s get it over with.”

Howard pulled up a chair. He opened his briefcase and pulled out a stack of papers. In a matter of minutes, Melissa had officially given away her child.

“Do you want me to stay?” Liz asked.

“I think I’d rather be alone. But thank you. I don’t think I could have gotten through this without you.”

Liz knew from previous experience that Melissa wasn’t through it yet. She’d spend many hours sorting through the myriad of feelings, traveling down the dozens of paths her mind would wander around and through until she came to terms with her decision.

Liz hugged the girl. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Liz took the time to stop at the grocery store on the way home. She was anxious to get back to Mary, especially after seeing Melissa, and she was still feeling as if she’d gotten run over by a bus, but her cupboards were pretty bare. She needed to stock up if she intended to have a houseguest. She knew that Mary should have milk and fruit and vegetables.

Thinking about that reminded her of Sawyer buying her bananas, and she walked through most of the grocery store with tears in her eyes. Lord, she was an emotional mess.

She drove home and lugged her sacks inside. She set them on the floor next to the fridge.

“Mary,” she called out. “I got Double Stuf Oreos.”

No answer. The television was off. Liz listened for the shower. But nobody was running water in her apartment. In fact, she couldn’t hear anything. Her apartment sounded empty. The truth hit her, almost making her stagger backward.

Mary was gone.

Chapter Thirteen

She ran from the kitchen to the spare bedroom. The bed
was sort of made with the sheets and blankets pulled up, just not tucked in. A
white sheet of notebook paper lay on the pillow.

It took every ounce of courage that Liz had to close the
ten-foot gap. The message was short and sweet.

Liz, thanks for everything. You and that cop saved my life. By the
way, he’s not such a bad guy. I’ve talked to an old friend. She’s going to let
me share her place. I’ll call you soon. Love, Mary.

Liz wanted to rip somebody’s head off. Either that or sit down
and cry for about a week. Or something in between those two extremes. She felt
as if she was on a seesaw. She’d been high in the air, and the other person had
just jumped off, causing her to hit the ground with a thud. Every bone in her
body ached with the pain of betrayal, of abandonment.

She wanted to damn Mary to hell and back.

Why couldn’t the girl have stayed put? What possessed her to
leave? Why couldn’t she just accept Liz’s help?

Liz didn’t have any answers. All she knew was that she wouldn’t
be able to rest until she was sure Mary and the baby were safe. She got herself
off the floor, walked over to the phone and dialed Sawyer’s cell phone. She’d
given the number out so many times in Wisconsin that she knew it by heart.

He answered on the third ring. “Montgomery.” His voice sounded
so good, so solid.

“Sawyer?” she said. “It’s Liz.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately.

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. So much for trying to hide
anything from Capable Sawyer. “Mary’s gone. She left a note.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. She
realized that Sawyer wasn’t surprised. It made her angry with herself that she
hadn’t seen it coming, as well.

“You’re not surprised, are you?” she asked. “That’s why you
made her write down her statement. You knew she wouldn’t be around to do it
later.”

Another pause, although this one was shorter than the last. “I
didn’t know,” he said. “Not for sure. I had an idea she might run.”

“I didn’t see it.” It broke her heart to admit it. How could
she keep her girls safe if she didn’t anticipate, if she didn’t plan ahead?

“Liz,” Sawyer said, “don’t beat yourself up. She’s a fickle
kid.”

A kid living in an adult world with adult dangers. “I’ve got to
find her. I’ve got to know she’s okay.”

“No! That’s crazy talk. You aren’t going after her again. You
know what happened the last time.”

Sawyer’s tone no longer held sympathy, but now a warning. A
couple weeks ago she’d have taken offense. Now she could hear the caring behind
his harsh tone.

“I’ll be careful,” she said. “I won’t do anything foolish.”

“You’re not listening. You won’t do anything. It’s over. She’s
gone. Let her go.”

“I can’t do that.” She knew he didn’t understand. Knew that he
couldn’t. She needed to help him. “Sawyer, I told you that my sister, Jenny,
died. What I didn’t tell you was that I had the chance to save her.”

“What?”

“Two days before she killed herself, Jenny left a message on my
machine. ‘Call me,’ it said. I tried. No one answered. I wasn’t worried. She’d
left messages like that before. I got home from work the next night, and there
was another message. ‘Please call me,’ it said.” Her voice cracked, and she
swallowed hard, knowing she needed to get through this.

“Liz, sweetheart, it’s okay. You can tell me later.”

“No. I need to tell you now. I didn’t call. My friend and I had
tickets to the opera. I’d left work late. She was already waiting outside my
apartment when I got home.”

She heard him sigh. It made her want to reach through the phone
and hug him.

“I tried first thing the next morning. Couldn’t get an answer.
I remembered that my parents were out of town for the weekend. So, I drove to
the house. You know the rest.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s not your fault. There’s no way you
could have known.”

“Perhaps not. But what I learned is that people reach out for
help in different ways. I don’t know if Mary’s reaching out. Maybe she’s not.
Maybe she’s pulling away and I’m just scared to let go. But I can’t take the
chance.”

There was a long silence from his end. “Promise me,” he said
finally. “Promise me that you won’t do anything until I get there. I’ll leave in
fifteen minutes. I won’t stop for gas, for dinner, for anything. I’ll be at your
apartment in three hours.”

No doubt about it—Sawyer Montgomery defined good. “I’ll wait,”
she promised.

“Thank you,” he said, and then he hung up.

* * *

T
HREE
HOURS
and twenty-seven
minutes later, Sawyer pulled his borrowed car up in front of Liz’s apartment
building. He owed Sheriff Foltran a case of cold beer. That was the price the
older man had quoted.

After Sawyer had hung up with Liz, he’d called him, given him a
brief update and asked where he might rent a car. The sheriff had quickly set
him straight, telling him that wasn’t how it was done in the country. Within
fifteen minutes, Sawyer had been on the road in a 2004 Buick, courtesy of the
sheriff’s wife.

He knocked on Liz’s door. “Liz, it’s Sawyer.”

And when she opened it and walked into his arms, it felt right.
He held her close, his chin resting on her head, content to let the heat of her
body warm his soul.

“Thanks for coming,” she said.

Three simple words. But the way she said it, it didn’t seem
simple at all. It seemed huge, bigger than life itself. It filled his heart, his
whole being.

He bent his head to kiss her.

She jerked back. “I had a really sore throat this morning. It’s
better, but you still might catch it.”

He shook his head. “I don’t care.” He reached for her
again.

She slipped into his arms. “I knew you wouldn’t care,” she
said. “I just knew it.” She lifted her lips and kissed him.

He felt as if he’d come home. He wanted to consume her, to take
sustenance from her strength, her goodness, her essence.

When he slipped his tongue inside and swallowed her answering
groan, he knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that life would never be the
same.

He kissed her for a very long time then wrapped his arms around
her slim body and held her close.

“I missed you,” he said.

“I know,” she said, her words muffled, her lips pressed against
his chest.

“Are you okay?” he asked. He put his fingers under her chin and
lifted her face up for inspection. She had her long hair pulled back in a rubber
band, and she didn’t have a speck of makeup on. She looked pure and sweet and so
beautiful.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Now that you’re here, I’m fine.”

His chest filled with something that threatened to overtake
him, to humble him, to bring him to his knees. “What happened, sweetheart?”

She grabbed a sheet of notebook paper off the lamp table and
handed it to him. He turned it over and read it. “Damn kid,” he said.

He noticed Liz didn’t bother to defend her. But he doubted that
her resolve to find Mary had lessened.

“Any thoughts on where she might be?” he asked.

“I want to go back to the bookstore. On the way here, before
she went to sleep, Mary talked about getting more books for the baby. I don’t
know if that woman will tell me anything, but I have to try.”

“Okay. I’ll take a ride down there. I’ll let you know what I
find.”

“I’m going with you.”

“That’s not necessary. You stay here. You don’t feel well.”

She shook her head. “I need to do something. I can’t stay
here.”

He knew better than to try to argue. She had such strength,
such sense of purpose, such commitment to a goal. He respected that. It was one
of the things he loved about her.

Loved her. It hit him like a bullet against a Kevlar-lined
vest. Bruising him, shaking him, shocking him. No longer sure his legs would
continue to hold him, he sat down on the couch, hard.

“Sawyer, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Everything. Nothing. He shook his head, trying to make sense of
it. He didn’t want to love her. He didn’t want to love anybody. If you didn’t
love, then it didn’t hurt when you lost.

He needed air. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, standing up in
one jerky movement.

She cocked her head, clearly not understanding his quick
turnaround. Hell, he didn’t understand it, either. He didn’t understand much
anymore.

“Sawyer, you’re scaring me,” she said.

He scared himself. “Liz, let’s go. We’re wasting time
here.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

Oh, yeah, he was sure. Sure he loved her. Just not sure what to
do about it.

He nodded. “Let’s go. I’d like to get out of that neighborhood
before it gets too late.”

Sawyer called Robert from the car. “Hey, partner, where are
you?” he asked.

“I’m working,” Robert said. “Where the hell are you?”

“I’m working, too. Look, I need you to help me with a little
surveillance at the corner of Shefton and Terrance.”

“Are you in town? I didn’t think you were coming back until
tomorrow.”

Sawyer looked at Liz. He’d used the hands-free speakerphone
because of heavy rush-hour traffic. “My plans changed.”

“What’s at Shefton and Terrance?” Robert asked.

“There’s a porn store on the corner of Terrance.”

“That desperate, huh?” Robert laughed at his own joke.

“Funny. Mind your manners,” Sawyer said. “I’ve got a lady in
the car.”

“Hi, Robert,” Liz interjected.

“Hi, Liz,” Robert said. “Sawyer, you did say
porn store?
”

Sawyer shook his head. “We’ll be there in ten minutes. Meet us
at the corner of King and Sparton—that’s two blocks north of the target. I’ll
fill you in then.”

“Can you give me a hint?” Robert asked.

“Sure. We’re looking for Mary Thorton,” Sawyer said. “She’s
AWOL. The porn store is one of her old haunts. I don’t think it’s a trap, but I
don’t want to take a chance.”

Ten minutes later, Robert walked into the porn store while
Sawyer and Liz waited in the car, a block away. He returned ten minutes later
carrying a brown paper sack. They watched him get into the car. Within thirty
seconds, Sawyer’s phone rang.

“Store’s empty,” Robert said, “with the exception of a
greasy-haired old guy in overalls behind the counter.”

“No woman, about sixty with gray hair?” Sawyer asked.

“Not that I saw.”

Sawyer looked at Liz. “Maybe Grandma Porn only works the day
shift?”

“At night, she bakes cookies for her grandchildren,” Liz
replied.

“Anything is possible,” Sawyer said. “When it comes to Mary,
I’m beginning to expect the unexpected.”

“Let’s talk to the guy in the store. Maybe he knows
something.”

“Okay. Hey, Robert, we’re going in.”

“Take money. The guy will probably block the door if you try to
leave without buying something.”

Liz pulled a twenty out of her purse and stuffed it into her
shirt pocket. “Thanks, Robert,” she said. “By the way, what did you buy?”

Robert laughed. “None of your business. All you need to know is
that I’ll be right outside the back door.”

Sawyer pulled his car up in front of the store. When he and Liz
entered, the man never even looked up from watching the small television behind
the counter. Liz could just make out the familiar sounds of CNN.

They walked around the store for a few minutes. Finally, the
man looked up. “Can I help you find something?” he asked.

“You must be Herbert,” Sawyer said.

Liz wanted to smack herself on the head. She’d completely
forgotten that the woman had mentioned her man friend Herbert. But Sawyer
hadn’t. Once again, he amazed her.

“That’s me,” the man replied.

“We’re friends of Mary Thorton’s. She talks about how nice you
and Marvis have been to her.”

“She’s a great girl.”

“The best,” Sawyer agreed. “In fact, she called this afternoon
and left a message on our machine. She said she was back in town after being
gone a couple of days.”

Liz wondered how he did it. The lies just rolled off his
tongue.

“She was in Wisconsin,” said Herbert.

“That’s what she said. Nice time of year to go north,” Sawyer
added. “Anyway, she must have been having a blonde moment because she told us to
call her later, but she didn’t leave a number.”

“Let me think.” The man rubbed his whiskered chin. “I don’t
have her number. But Randy’s place is just a few blocks from here.”

Randy?
Liz desperately wanted to
ask, but Sawyer was on a roll.

“Good enough,” Sawyer said. “We bought a stroller for the baby.
We might as well deliver it.”

Herbert picked up a notepad and scribbled an address on it. He
held it in his hands. “You folks need anything as long as you’re here?” he
asked.

Liz pulled the twenty from her pocket. She walked over to the
stack of boxed condoms. She picked out the brightest, most garish design. She
handed Herbert the twenty. “Thanks for asking. These should last a couple days,”
she said.

She heard Sawyer make a choking sound behind her.

“Keep the change,” she said. “We’ll tell Mary hello from
you.”

“You two come back anytime.” Herbert handed her the slip of
paper.

The phone rang seconds after they got back to the car.
“Montgomery,” Sawyer answered, leaving the phone on speaker. Liz noted he still
sounded a bit hoarse.

“Everything okay?” Robert asked.

“Yeah. We got an address. Follow us.”

“No problem. By the way, what’s in
your
bag, Liz?”

“None of your damn business,” Sawyer said and hung up.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Liz scolded him.

“When this is over,” Sawyer said, his voice barely audible,
“when we don’t have the shadow of Mary or Mirandez or anything else standing
between us, we’re going to have a long talk.”