Someone To Believe In (35 page)

“It was her, wasn’t it?”

“Who?”

“The Street Angel.”

They came on the website, Taz.

“Don’t know nothin’ about no Street
Angel.”

“We were on your computer.”

“So?”

“We know. Come back, Taz and we won’t do
nothin’ about it.”

You safe?
she’d
asked the Street Angel.

Yeah, my identity and the whereabouts of
ESCAPE are secret.

Still she should be careful. “What’re you
talkin’ about?”

“How you goin’ away if she ain’t helpin’?”
This time, Mazie’s tone was cut-glass hard.

“Got a cuzz in Florida. He sent me money to
come down.”

“Where are you now?”

“Nowhere. Look, I gotta go. I won’t be usin’
this number anymore.” Suddenly the enormity of what she was doing
overwhelmed her. “Take care of yourself, Maze. Tell Quinnie I said
that, too.”

“Fuck you, hater. You drop a dime, we’ll get
you.” The line went dead.

Hater
—the term
for snitch. Droppin’ a dime—to blow somebody in. Jesus Christ. Taz
shook her head and removed the battery from the phone. Then she
threw it in the bag and made her way out to the trash. As she
stuffed the contents of her gang life into the big steel
receptacle, she whispered, “God I hope I know what the fuck I’m
doin’.”

CHUCK STEWART NODDED to the clock. “I think
we can finish up today. I know everybody’s anxious to get back
home for the holidays.” It was three weeks before Thanksgiving, and
Clay would spend the majority of the next month and a half in his
home state, as most congressmen would.

The Youth Crime Committee had heard all the
reports each state task force had assembled. For the areas where
there was no disagreement, they pretty much rubber stamped the task
force’s recommendation. Where there were some concerns about
spending, the committee debated. Most instances they compromised.
No task force except New York’s had sent someone other than their
senator to report to Stewart’s committee. Bailey had been the only
one to come to D.C. Now it was time to decide the money for the
Empire State.

“Next up is Clay’s state.” Stewart shrugged.
“I have to tell you, Clay, Bailey O’Neil made a good case. I’m
nearly convinced that she should have this shelter.”

Clay kept silent, in order to let everyone
else speak. His views had been given loud and clear. Except that
now...

Carol Jenkins spoke up. “I feel the same as
Chuck. First, it’s not that much money we’d be risking. Second, Ms.
O’Neil’s shelter could be a prototype where we test out this kind
of housing. If it works, we’re on to something.”

Yeah, with Bailey as the guinea pig.

The
willing
guinea pig.

Others gave their opinions—mostly supportive.
Tom Carter, who was still angry at Clay about Jane, didn’t
comment. Stewart turned to Clay. “Since you’re the most vocal on
this, any last-minute points before we vote?”

Clay took in a deep breath. He’d given this a
lot of thought since Bailey had left last Monday. He scanned the
committee members then focused on Chuck. “Yes, I guess I do. Give
her the money.”

Startled, Chuck did a double take. “Care to
tell us why you changed your mind?”

Because I love her and want to make her
happy.

But it was more than that. “Well, for
one thing, she wore me down on the task force. She kept battering
me with good ideas. And they are good.” He sighed. “They just don’t
align with what I think. However, the money in our bill
is
for social agencies, and it’s
going to go to gang kids, anyway. She’s the expert. I guess we
should let her spend it.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Chuck put in.
“Except that maybe you can convince her to take the education post
if it comes to fruition.”

“I doubt it.”

The meeting broke up and as Clay hurried back
to his office, he thought of his conversations all week with
Bailey. They’d been tender, and not fractious at all, which was
surprising since she’d left in a huff.

When he reached his office, most of his staff
was gone. Closing the door, he went to his desk and punched out her
number.

She answered on the first ring. “O’Neil.” She
sounded harried.

“Bailey, did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Clay, hi. Um, yeah, I’m running out of here
any minute. But I’m glad you called. I probably won’t be able to
talk to you tonight.”

“Why?”

“We’re relocating Taz. I’ve been running
around like a chicken with my head cut off with details, but I’ve
got it all arranged.”

He struggled with his temper.
“
You’re
taking
her?”

“Me and Joe and Rob.” When he didn’t say
anything, she added, “Clay, Joe’s an ex-cop. We’ve done this
before. We’re safe.”

You’ll never be safe working
with those kids
. Instead, though, he said, “Okay,
go.”

“Was there a reason you called?”

“Um...yes. I have some good news.”

“Tell me. I could use it.”

“You got your money for Guardian.”

A scrambling of noise. “Bailey? Sweetheart,
are you all right?”

Rustling. “I...um, I dropped the phone. Clay,
I’m shocked.” She hesitated. “Didn’t they listen to you? I’m sorry
if they didn’t. Well, I’m not really, but if it hurts your
reputation, I feel bad.”

Hell, he was only human. “Bailey, they
listened to me.”

A long pause. “What are you saying?”

“I voted to give you the money.”

A longer pause. Then in a throaty voice, “Oh,
Clay, that means so much to me.”

“I know. It’s why I did it.” He told her
about the other voters.

“Just a sec...” She talked to someone off the
phone. Back on. “I have to go. The van’s ready to take off. I’m
sorry, I want to hear all about what happened. I’ll call you if I
don’t get back from Rochester too late.”

“All right. Good luck.”

“I love you, Clay,” she whispered. “You won’t
regret this.”

“I hope not. Now go. I love you, too.”

HER HEAD SPINNING, Bailey watched the
Interstate 90 green signs tick down their way from New York. Soft
soul drifted from the front CD and Rob hummed along as Joe drove.
Taz dozed next to her.

Albany ...

What on earth had possessed Clay to vote for
her shelter?

Because he loves you.

Had he really put her beliefs first because
of his feelings for her? Could he have really compromised like
that?

Utica ...

What was going to happen to them?

...creating a post in HEW that deals with
youth crime...would you be interested?

To be able to be with Clay every day was a
dream she hadn’t thought possible. But could she give this up? She
glanced over. Taz was sound asleep next to her. Today the girl wore
plain Levi jeans, a red sweater and nondescript boots. Her hair was
in soft curls, and she’d put on no makeup. She turned and the
sweater pulled up. In the light from the lamps on the road, Bailey
saw something on her stomach. She leaned over. It was a tattoo. A
pitchfork. She gasped.

“What’s wrong, doll?” Rob asked from the
front seat.

“Her tattoo. It’s the same as Moira’s.”

“Ah.”

Memories flooded her. Of her sister coming to
live with them. Sharing a room. Confidences, and secrets. And
finally, Moira’s demise because of gang girls.

Syracuse...

She looked around her. She loved this work,
loved helping kids. But something was missing. Something Clay had
filled.

“You guys ever get tired of doing this?” she
asked after a while to the men in the front seat.

“ ’
Bout every day,” Joe
grunted.

“It’s a tough life.” They exchanged glances.
“You?” Rob asked, turning around.

“Sometimes.”

Joe said, “You’re young. You got a great kid.
Nobody’d blame you if you left this all behind.” He checked the
rearview mirror and caught her look. “Not with him, though.”

Leaning back, Bailey closed her eyes. God she
was tired.

I hate to see you wear yourself out like
this. If you were mine, I’d tie you to the bed.

“Bay? Wake up.”

Bailey startled awake. “Clay?”

“Shit,” Joe said.

“Who’s Clay?” Taz asked.

“We’re here,” Rob announced.

“I must have fallen asleep.” She got out of
the car with the others. Under a canopy of crystal-clear stars in a
cool night, Taz studied the area. “Looks like suburbia.”

“It is.” Bailey took in the surroundings,
too.

The house was a sprawling split-level, white
with red shutters. The lawn was closely cut. The neighborhood was
a little older, but was well kept. In the small suburb of Gates,
Taz would go to a one-thousand-student school, with average, blue
collar kids.

“How come I ain’t in no city?”

Bailey slid her arm around Taz, surprised she
accepted the affection. “Because this is where you belong. Away
from temptation. Rochester has gangs, too, but the suburbs usually
don’t. Or at least they aren’t open about it. The Gates School
District is one of the best out here. Plus, there are two
counselors I know that have experience working with kids out of
gangs.”

“Thought you said this was anonymous.”

“It is. From now on, we’ll have no contact
with you. Only those two counselors will know your background, but
just generally and they’ll only know your new name. Tamara
Golindo.”

The front door opened. Out came a woman and
man, both about fifty. He was tall and bald, and she was smaller in
stature.

As they approached, Bailey whispered,
“They’re both school teachers, Taz. You’ll like them.”

Taz grasped on to her hand. “You know what
you’re doin’, Street Angel, right?”

“Yes, Taz, I do. Nobody up here’s going to
hurt you here. Now let’s go meet with the Conklins.”

NINETEEN

“I LOVE YOU. Thank you so much for this.”

At the moment, Clay was having trouble
remembering what
this
was.
“Hmm.”

She’d stopped kissing his abs and peered up
at him. Her sky blue eyes sparkled and her hair was a riotous mass
of curls around bare shoulders. The rest of her was beautifully
naked, too. “I’m stunned you did that for me, Clay, got the money
for Guardian. I...”

Playfully he pressed her head back down.
“Hell, not now woman!”

She chuckled—and got back to business, thank
God. Afterward, he brought her to climax three times before he let
her rest.

She cuddled into him, inhaling him, rubbing
her hand across his still sweaty chest. “Tell me why you did
it.”

They hadn’t had time to talk between her trip
to settle Taz in Rochester and his arrival in New York. They’d
rushed into bed, anxious for the connection. The confirmation.

“It’s essentially what I told the committee;
you wore me down. But most of all, I decided you’ve got a point;
and you’ve made me realize that one way—mine—isn’t the only way. I
think you deserve a chance with Guardian.”

“Oh, Clay, that means so much to me.”

“It’s just that...”

“What?”

He grazed her arm, running his fingers up and
down her biceps, loving the feel of her. “A lot of people know
about us. I had to tell Thorn. Your brothers know. Both the kids.
It’s going to come out, now, honey, all around.”

“I’ve been thinking. Maybe we could withstand
the publicity, despite my background.... Senators get elected all
the time without the ‘proper’ kind of woman in their lives.”

“You’re
my
kind of woman.” Sighing he kissed her head.
“Thorn called it a Cinderella story.”

“Maybe.”

“We still have the other problems, though.
I’m concerned about your safety if, because of your association
with me, people find out who you are. You’ve gotten a lot of kids
out of gangs. Their cronies can’t be happy.”

“Mostly we’d have to worry about Taz’s
homies. Many of the kids I’ve worked with have grown up and so has
their set. And a few gangs have been dispersed by the police.”

Silence. “Have you heard from her?”

“No. We don’t expect to. The host family will
communicate only if there’s a problem.” She stirred and came up on
her elbows. “Clay, I have an idea.”

“What?”

“If we build Guardian, no one will know of
its whereabouts like shelters for battered women.”

“Right.”

“Maybe I could work there. The Street Angel,
so to speak, can retire. She’ll just disappear and won’t be working
directly with kids. Then, after a time, if you and I go public, it
won’t be a big deal.”

“You’d do that?”

“Uh-huh. It would satisfy my desire to get
kids out of gangs, but I’d be safer.”

“Hell, it could work. Especially since the
cops are closing in on the GGs, as well as Anthrax.”

“Even if the cops don’t get them, maybe Mazie
and the gang will fade from our radar now that Taz is out of their
clutches. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

“All right. Until we can figure something
else out, we’ll keep this between us as quiet as we can.”

She nestled back into him. “I love you,
Senator.”

“I love you, too, Street Angel. No way am I
letting you go.”

“Good.”

THE COMPROMISE FELT terrific. For the first
time, Bailey believed she and Clay really had a chance. She
floated through the first week of November, feeling optimistic. And
she had extra energy. Of course she was sleeping like a rock at
night, mostly because she got to see Clay every day. Their
lovemaking was amazing.

Dressed in her favorite light blue cotton
sweater, a new pair of tan jeans, and a heavy fall jacket, she was
whistling when she came into ESCAPE the next morning.