Reckless Pleasures (11 page)

The girl grabbed her skirt and lifted it up, revealing her thick training pants.

Dorothy was on her heels, looking pretty herself in a light blue dress. “Daisy, put your dress down. How many times do I have to tell you it’s not polite to flash your underpants to total strangers?”

One of the male team members in the corner chuckled, “Actually, it makes things simple.”

The two women shared an eye roll even as Dorothy smoothed her daughter’s dress back where it belonged.

“Something special today?” Megan asked.

“No, just church,” Dorothy said. “We’re leaving as soon as I straighten up a little in here.”

“There’s nothing that can’t wait,” Megan told her. “Which church?”

She named the same church to which the Szymanski family belonged.

“Would you like to come along?” Dorothy asked, her face lighting up.

Megan intended to instantly refuse, then thought again. “Actually, that might be just what the doctor ordered,” she said quietly. “Can you give me a few minutes to change? I don’t have a dress, but I think I can scare up something suitable….”

14

DARI SHOOK HANDS with the sheriff last, nodding as Jason led the way out of the office, Linc following closely behind. Beyond learning which areas the volunteers had searched, and a follow-up interview with the girl’s mother that may or may not offer up any additional clues, the meeting hadn’t yielded much by way of evidence. As usual, Linc had remained quiet throughout, seeming to blend in with the background. Dari knew it was probably part of his training, but still, he marveled at how successful the big man was at disappearing in full sight. He suspected Linc could have gotten up and searched the sheriff’s desk drawers with the man sitting right there and no one would have thought anything about it.

Jason, on the other hand, had leaned toward the short-tempered side. Atypical behavior that had drawn Dari’s surprised stare on a couple of occasions. In fact, his friend had been acting strangely for the past couple of days. Was the case getting to him? Highly unlikely. Dari had seen Jason in circumstances much more intense than this and he’d never lost his cool. In fact, the more extreme the conditions, the better Jason seemed to function.

“Okay, man, what’s up?” Dari asked as they walked toward the SUV, the rain having slowed to a momentary trickle.

Jason shot him an irritated glance. “I could ask the same of you.”

Linc stared at them both.

“I’m not following you,” Dari said.

“Every time I tried to lead that clueless sheriff in a direction that might prove of some use to us, you cut me off at the pass.”

“Did I?” He had no recollection of doing any such thing. “Then why in the hell did you bring me if I’m such a liability?”

“You weren’t. Until today.”

They climbed into the SUV, Linc automatically getting into the back, once again disappearing into the background.

Jason started the SUV and put it into gear with an angry jerk.

“Whoa,” Dari said when he pulled into traffic without looking, earning them a horn blast. “Cool it before you get us all killed.”

His words seemed to jerk his friend back from whatever edge he’d been on.

They’d all faced much more dire situations. And in this case, none of them were on the line physically. It made Jason’s surly attitude all the more curious.

They finished the rest of the ride in silence. By the time they returned to the motel, the rain had picked up again, thick sheets that limited visibility and guaranteed you’d be soaked the instant you stepped outside into it.

That didn’t stop Dari as he climbed out of the vehicle and headed for the command center. He shook off the wetness and made room for Linc, who came in behind him. Jason, it appeared, had stayed behind in the SUV.

He greeted the two team members playing cards in the corner and scanned the rest of the room. “Where’s Meg?”

“I don’t know. She went someplace with that girl who cleans up after us.”

He frowned. Why would she leave without giving him at least a call to let him know where she was going?

He turned back toward the door, looking at the torrent and catching the taillights of Jason’s SUV as he sped out of the parking lot back into traffic.

Now where in the hell was he going?

He took out his cell phone and dialed Megan’s number. She didn’t answer.

“Damn.”

“Problems?” Linc asked.

“Huh? No.” He slid his cell back into his pocket and asked, “You any good at Texas hold ’em?”

Linc grinned. “I’ve been known to win a few.”

He chuckled. “I bet.” He looked toward the two in the corner. “Got room for a couple more?”

THE MISERABLE WEATHER didn’t keep churchgoers away from Sunday services. The chapel was bursting at the seams, with even more people spilling out the open doors, down the stairs and into the parking lot, umbrellas keeping them safe from most of the rain.

Megan and Dorothy arrived early enough to get spots in one of the back bench seats. While air-conditioning made the interior bearable, being near the open doors meant a swing back and forth from cool to warm and back again.

Megan plucked her white blouse from where it stuck to her chest, as much from sweat as from the rain that had soaked her in the mad dash from the car to the chapel, leaving the umbrella more for Dorothy and Daisy. She’d changed into the only civilian clothes she’d brought along to Florida, which consisted of a pair of black slacks, a white blouse and black pumps. She’d pulled her hair back into a twist and even now felt rivulets of sweat trickling down the back of her neck. She could barely make out what the pastor was saying over the sound of flapping papers as others fanned themselves. The service was full of hope that the retrieval of little Finley’s bike was a sign that she would be found alive.

The pastor nodded to the front seats. Megan craned her head to see that Finley’s mother and grandparents were there, heads bowed, the grandmother openly weeping at the pastor’s words.

Dorothy leaned into her. “That’s you, right? You found the bike?” she whispered.

Megan looked down. “My team, yes. Not me personally.”

“That’s great. I don’t know what I’d do if my Daisy went missing. They might as well take me out back and shoot me.”

Megan raised her brows as she looked at her.

Daisy fidgeted on her mom’s lap, a space made smaller yet by the sibling growing there. Dorothy winced and rubbed her very pregnant belly.

Megan turned her attention back to the audience, noticing a few familiar faces—the pastor’s family, some volunteer search members, and, to her amazement, a couple from Lazarus’s team. She felt a sharp knee on her leg and looked to see Daisy crawling into her lap, apparently finding her mother’s lacking. She was all big blue eyes and toothy smile as she looked up at her. Megan couldn’t help smiling back as she helped the child settle more comfortably, tucking her against her body, an arm around her to prevent her from falling. Dorothy took the opportunity to focus on the pastor, fanning herself with a church flyer.

The girl relaxed against Megan, popping her thumb into her mouth as she stared at the back of the woman’s hat in front of them. Megan tucked her chin in and took a deep breath, enjoying the scents of baby shampoo and little girl.

How long had it been since she’d held a child? She’d babysat for a couple of neighbors when she was a teen, but being an only child, a military brat, and then entering the military straight out of high school, she hadn’t been around a lot of kids. Certainly not enough to make her comfortable around them.

Yet it felt completely natural having Daisy on her lap.

She briefly closed her eyes, trying to imagine what it might be like to have children of her own. To have her belly as round as Dorothy’s. She hadn’t thought about it much before. Oh, maybe she’d entertained the thought every now and again during her relationship with Dari. They’d joked that she’d probably end up with a hyperfeminine little girl given to all things frilly and pink, but she’d never seriously considered having a child. Never thought about what she could offer one. What he or she might offer her.

And she’d never certainly factored in the protectiveness she’d feel. Welcoming Daisy onto her lap, and automatically wrapping her arm around her to keep her safe, inspired myriad emotions, the most prevalent being the need to keep her safe. She’d do anything to protect her.

Anything.

The sermon ended and everyone got up and began milling around.

“Oh, look, it’s stopped raining,” Dorothy said. “I’m going to take Daisy outside and talk to a couple of friends. Meet you at the car in a bit?”

Megan smiled. “Sure.”

She wanted to see if she could approach Finley’s family, maybe introduce herself. Her reasons for attending hadn’t been entirely personal, despite her growing attachment to the little munchkin and her mother.

She smiled as she wove her way around others trying to make their way out, a bit of a fish swimming upstream, everyone in their Sunday best, hats hitting her left and right, perfume threatening to choke her.

Finally, she was at the front of the chapel. The pastor immediately recognized her.

“Miss McGowan. How nice to see you.” He enfolded her hand in both of his, his smile genuine. “I’m glad you could join us for this morning’s sermon.”

“My compliments,” she said.

He turned toward Finley’s family. “Have you had a chance to meet one of the people responsible for finding the bicycle?” he asked.

Megan couldn’t have asked for a better introduction. She glanced upward, wondering if it was a bit of divine intervention during a time when she could use exactly that.

The first thing that struck her was how young Finley’s mother looked. Around the same age as Dorothy, she guessed, but with a seven-year-old daughter who was now missing.

Her parents, on the other hand, looked older than their years.

She greeted each of them one by one, explaining that her team had found the bike, not her specifically, and wishing she could share that they’d found a partial print. And that surprised her, since none of the three had actually been ruled out as possible suspects in the missing girl’s disappearance. Still, her gut reaction was that they weren’t involved.

Finley’s grandfather stepped forward. “I just want to thank you for continuing the search. Everyone else had given up hope, no matter how much we begged otherwise. You guys finding, um, Finley’s bike, sparked renewed interest.” It was clear he had trouble saying her name without choking up. “Thank God. I don’t know what would happen if everyone just gave up….”

Megan said words she hoped were reassuring, not completely at ease being on this side of the equation, but glad she’d played a small role in inspiring hope.

“Please,” his wife said, “stop by the house for some coffee or something. We’d like to discuss the details of what you found…”

She was surprised by their generosity and exchanged numbers with them—she already had the address, as did everyone within remote distance of a television set.

Promising to be in contact the following day, she said her goodbyes, thanked the pastor and made her way outside.

It was sprinkling again and the throng of people had dissipated, cars lining up to turn out of the lot into traffic that had grown heavier since they’d arrived.

She immediately spotted Dorothy talking to a couple of other women under three overlapping umbrellas in the corner of the parking lot near her car. She started in that direction, scanning the others who lingered chatting. One of them was familiar. Her steps slowed as she recognized Don McCain. He was crouched over, putting himself eye to eye with Daisy, who giggled at something he said.

Megan’s heart gave a triple beat. He had at least four other children in front of him but the image of him, with his hand out offering something to Daisy didn’t set well with her. She was filled with the urge to go over and guide the girl away, but suppressed it. Instead, she walked to Dorothy who was laughing at something one of the others had said but was keeping her eye on her daughter.

“Oh, hi!” Dorothy greeted her. “Megan, I’d like you to meet two of my dearest friends in the world.”

She made the introductions and Megan was pretty sure she made the appropriate responses, but her gaze was glued to Don McCain and Daisy.

The four of them chatted a bit and then the two women excused themselves, wishing Dorothy and Megan a good day in order to collect their own children and head home to fix dinner.

“What do you know about him?” Megan asked once they were alone.

“Who, Mr. McCain?” She waved a hand. “He’s harmless. He sometimes plays the organ for the church and is an elementary-school teacher. He loves kids.”

Megan tried to force herself to relax. To explain that all this was new to her. It was one thing to look at somebody objectively, another through the lens of a protective adult.

Or in her case, overprotective adult.

“Daisy?” Dorothy called. “Say goodbye to Mr. McCain. We’ve got to be going now.”

Daisy did as asked, giving Mr. McCain a big hug and a kiss on the cheek before skipping back to them.

Megan felt much better when she was near and was barely able to return the wave McCain offered before they all got into the car.