A Kiss in Winter Page 27

  “The next morning, somehow, some way, they’d managed to have gifts wrapped and under the tree for me. One of them was the camera. Dad got me started right away, taking pictures.” She chuckled. “I still have those first pictures in the album that was another gift that morning. I started putting it together when I was stuck in bed with a broken leg.”

  He sat up. “I want to see.”

  She gave a pffft. “They’re awful. I couldn’t center anything. And I took pictures of the dumbest stuff.”

  “Come on!” He gave her a little shove to get her off the couch.

  “Okay, it might take me a minute. It’s in my studio.”

  “I’ve got all day.” He leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head.

  “Bullshit. You’ve got cows.”

  “They’re patient.”

  She harrumphed. “Really? Must be a trait of beef cattle, then.” She headed out of the room.

  “Well, they might not be so patient as a breed.” He raised his voice so she could hear him. “They just like me. I’m charming and they know I’m new at this. They give me lots of slack.” He was so glad he’d come here. Her straightforward, sparkling wit—which she’d held on to despite her difficult childhood—had a way of putting life in perspective.

  When she returned, she handed over a denim-covered twelve-by-twelve photo album. “There, feast your eyes on true art.” She sat back down beside him.

  When he opened the book the first photograph was of a Christmas tree, off center and leaning slightly to the right. “I see the early development of your unique perspective.” He traced the angle of the tree across the photo. “I presume these are in chronological order?”

  “Of course, that way you’ll be able to see my marked improvement in composition and style.”

  He pointed to the photo of the couple wearing goofy antlers with bells hanging off them. “Your parents?”

  “Never could get those two to grow up,” she said with a fond smile.

  “And this.” He pointed to a boy in PJs beside the Christmas tree, holding up a book on whales. He wasn’t smiling. “The foster boy?”

  “Yeah.” After a second she said, “James! That was his name.”

  “Doesn’t look very happy for Christmas morning.”

  Caroline leaned over and looked closer. She chuckled. “Again, my timing and perspective weren’t quite there yet—only I could capture a little boy on Christmas morning with a scowl on his face.”

  “James, huh? Remember anything else now that you’ve seen the photo?”

  She screwed her mouth to the side. “Nope.”

  “You said he was adopted right after this?”

  “Pretty much… It was after I broke my leg, so I’d guess maybe three weeks after.”

  Mick felt the touch of the icy finger of intuition at the base of his skull. “How did you break your leg?”

  “Fell down the stairs. I was on crutches forever. Still went out to milk the cows, though,” she said proudly.

  “So how’d you manage to fall down the stairs?”

  “Klutzy. James and I were racing in the upstairs hallway—there wasn’t any carpet, just hardwood then. It was great for matchbox cars and sliding in sock feet. I tripped and lost my balance—naturally at the top of the stairs.”

  Once the dominoes started to fall, they toppled to reveal the outline of a very clear picture. “Did you ever see James after he was adopted?”

  She shook her head.

  “You said your parents came up with gifts that morning. Do you suppose they could have been ones they bought for James?”

  “Hmmm, that makes sense. It was late when I arrived on Christmas Eve. The camera was definitely a kid’s camera.”

  A child on the brink of adoption would hardly be spending Christmas with a foster family. And if the Rogerses were in the market to adopt, why had they not taken him? The camera and boyish denim album most likely were originally meant for him. Did he know that? Had it been a special wish on his list? Was that frown Caroline had captured a freakish coincidence, or a jealous stare? Suddenly it appeared Caroline’s “accident” might not have been so accidental.

  Sitting forward in his seat, he put his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together. He was about to lay out his thoughts to Caroline, when Macie burst through the door.

  “Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said teasingly.

  When Caroline laughed, it became clear that things were improving between the sisters. “Mick is reviewing my early work.”

  Mick then noticed that lingering in the doorway behind Macie was “the boy.” The fact that he hadn’t bounced in on Macie’s heels said he wasn’t so sure of his welcome.

  “Caleb and I are going to study in the kitchen.” Macie grabbed him by the arm and towed him toward the back of the house.

  “There’s a pizza in the freezer if you guys want it,” Caroline said.

  Mick lifted a quizzical brow once the two teenagers were out of the room.

  “What?” Caroline said. “They’re studying—for the SATs.”

  “Good.”

  “The compromise is they have to stay on the first floor.”

  “Oh, yeah, nobody ever got pregnant on the first floor.”

  She socked him with a pillow. “I know that’s not what’s making the difference, but we had to have some boundaries.”

  He leaned over and kissed her nose. “Good work.”

  “I have to admit not all of my reasons are so altruistic. Now that she can be with Caleb, she’s hardly ever alone. I can’t be with her every second of the day. Until we have this guy figured out…”

  “Again, good work.” He looked back at the photograph of the little boy beside the Christmas tree. “I want to find out who adopted James.”

  “Why?”

  “What if he wasn’t adopted? Kids get moved from one foster home to another for lots of reasons.”

  Her expression began to sharpen.

  “Is there any chance that you were tripped by something other than your own two feet when you fell down the stairs?”

  She breathed, “Oh, my God.”

  He pulled out his cell phone. “I’m calling Detective Odell.”

  Chapter 21

  I’m not going,” Caroline said to Mick on the phone Wednesday evening.

  Initially, she’d been encouraged by Detective Odell’s response when Mick had told him of their conjecture. Odell had not dismissed the idea as far-fetched or unlikely. He started the search with an intensity that was reassuring. Unfortunately, he didn’t yet have any answers.

  “Of course you’re going,” Mick said. “I can take you to the airport.”

  “I don’t need you to take me. I can’t leave Macie alone, not now.”

  “Macie will be fine. You’re not even going to be gone a full day. She’ll be with the Bennetts—with me right down the road. I’ll drive her to and from school. The school knows the situation and has increased security. Besides, the professionals all agree, Macie’s not next.”

  “What if he breaks the pattern?”

  “The police say that’s very unlikely at this point.”

  “What about you, Mick? You’ve been working really hard to not express an opinion—”

  He cut her off. “I told you; I’m not—”

  “I know you think they’re better qualified, but I don’t trust them. I trust you.” She heard his muffled groan. “You figured out that it’s James.”

  “We’re not certain that I’m right.”

  “You’re right. It’s the only thing that makes sense. He thinks I took something from him, and now he wants to take something from me.”

  Once Mick had introduced the idea that James most likely wasn’t adopted and very possibly had been responsible for her tumble down the stairs, other things began to surface in Caroline’s memory. James had taunted her with the fact that he was being adopted, but since her dad wasn’t dead, she couldn’t be. And her fall down the stairs hadn�
�t been the only time she’d had an accident while they were playing; it just happened to be the most serious.

  Mick said, “There’s no way to be sure until we find him.”

  “Stop trying to get out of answering my question. I want to know if you feel certain he won’t skip the bridge and go after Macie first.”

  With a resigned sigh, he said, “No, he won’t. He’s been too methodical. He wants you to know he’s coming, but he also wants you to wait. The anticipation is feeding him.”

  She was marginally reassured. “You’ll keep close tabs on Macie?”

  “I’d have her stay here, but I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  She hadn’t considered Macie staying with Mick. She realized she’d feel a whole lot better if she did. “Because people will talk?”

  “No. Because he’s more likely to go after the house than Macie.” He paused. “He might not know it’s her in the photograph. She was much younger, was wearing a hat, and her face is only a sliver of profile. This house, this home, is one of the things he felt you took from him.”

  That wasn’t at all reassuring. “Maybe you should stay someplace else.”

  “I can take care of myself. Don’t worry.” She’d never heard vengeance in his voice before, but it sounded as if he might welcome a visit from James in the middle of the night. “Caroline, Macie’s going to be fine. You can’t miss this opportunity.”

  A need in her rose up and defied common sense. She did want this, more than anything. But leaving now was both selfish and reckless.

  “You’ll have your cell phone,” he argued. “Detective Odell promised he’d call the second he gets a lead on James—which most likely won’t be before late tomorrow. Go. National Geographic has had to wait a long time for you.”

  For a second she was so choked up that she couldn’t respond. Not since she’d lost her adoptive parents had she felt this kind of faith and support. “I’ll probably drive you nuts calling to check on things.”

  With a warm laugh, he said, “I’ll be looking forward to each and every call.”

  There would be no sleep here tonight, alone in this house. A small and weak part of her wanted to ask if she could stay with him. In his arms, she might find a few hours of rest.

  She silenced that needy whisper. This was her first step toward a career that would take her far from here. She could not run to him.

  “Good night, Mick… and thank you.”

  It was nearing one a.m. when Caroline drove back into Redbud Mill. She called Mick on her cell phone.

  “I’m here,” she said. “I’m pulling up to my house now.”

  “You were supposed to give me a forty-five-minute warning.” She heard him rustling around. “I’ll be right there. Don’t go in until I get there.”

  “I didn’t call forty-five minutes ago because you don’t need to come and check out the house. I’m fine.”

  “You’re not going in there alone. Not this late.”

  “Really, Mick. I’m sure it’s safe.”

  “So that’s why you’ve been calling about Macie every hour today, because you’re sure it’s safe?”

  “That’s different.”

  “Not to me.”

  She had to admit, it was sort of nice having someone worry over her. “Seriously, don’t come in! You have to get up in a few hours.”

  “So do you, if you’re taking Macie to school.”

  The very thought of getting up in time to pick Macie up at the Bennetts’ by seven was painful. “Mick, I’m not waiting. Don’t come in.”

  “I’m coming whether you wait or not. Or, maybe…” His voice rose with possibility.

  “Or maybe what?”

  “Drive on out here. You’ll be that much closer to Macie in the morning.”

  “Mick.”

  “It’s that, or I’m driving in.”

  What the hell. Throwing her reservations to the wind, at least for tonight, she said, “Okay, I’m coming.”

  “Stay on the phone while you drive out.”

  “I just drove from the airport—I think I can make it another twelve miles.”

  “Humor me.”

  His concern warmed her to her bones. “Okay. How’s your mother doing?”

  “I spoke to her today; she says she’s fine… but I don’t know.”

  “It’s hard to help someone who won’t open up.”

  He gave a dry chuckle. “Tell me.” Then he asked, “How was the interview?”

  “Hard to gauge. The honchos at the magazine played it close to the vest. They said they’d be in touch.”

  “They’d be fools to pass you up.”

  “I’m too tired to think about it anymore.”

  They chatted about things of no importance for the rest of the drive.

  “I see your headlights,” he said as she turned into the lane.

  “Can I hang up now?”

  “Not until I see the whites of your eyes.”

  He met her at the back door, flipped his cell phone closed, and opened his arms. His flannel shirt was open over a white T-shirt. She walked into his embrace, sliding her hands under the open shirt, realizing how long this day had been. The warmth of Mick’s hands on her was heaven.

  He held her for a long time, massaging her neck at the base of her skull.

  “That feels so good it should be illegal,” she breathed.

  He whispered, “I’ve got a few other moves that fall into that category, but you need to be lying down.”

  “Hmmm, sounds intriguing.” She kissed his neck.

  Once upstairs, he undressed her slowly, massaging away her tension as he did. When she reached for his belt, he said, “Nope. Tonight is just about you.” He tucked her in his bed, then stripped and got in beside her. By the time he’d demonstrated his “moves,” she was a puddle of wanton goo.

  He held her against his side and said, “Now go to sleep.”

  Her tongue was as languid as the rest of her, and she could only mumble, “I owe you one.”

  The warmth of his chuckle wrapped her even more tightly than his embrace, tying her soul just a little more securely to his.

  She awakened to the smell of coffee. When she opened her eyes, Mick stood beside the bed wearing only his jeans, holding a mug in each hand.

  Squinting, she asked, “What time is it?”

  “Six-forty. That gives you twenty minutes to down this coffee, get dressed, and drive half a mile to pick up Macie. Unless you’ll let me take her to school?”

  She sat up, took the coffee, and shook her head. “No.”

  “Okay, then, I’ll head to your house and wait there for you.”

  “It’s daylight. You don’t need to search the house.”

  He turned around and walked out of the room. “See you there.”

  Caroline was torn between tenderness and frustration. It was too damn easy to let him absorb the bumps in the road. She’d begun to need him.

  When she pulled up to her house, Mick was sitting in the passenger seat of the police car that was parked right in front of his truck. Detective Odell was in the driver’s seat.

  Her heart felt like it was pumping sludge through her veins. All of the tension Mick had drained away last night returned with interest. Had Mick found trouble when he’d arrived?

  By the time she was in the drive and out of the van, the two men were waiting for her on the front porch. She trotted up to them. “What’s happened?”

  “There we go again with the greeting.” Mick’s light tone reduced her fear.

  Detective Odell said, “Let’s go inside. Maybe I could bum some coffee?”

  The man looked as tired as Caroline felt. She unlocked the door. Mick kept a hand on her arm, allowing the detective to enter first. They made Caroline stand just inside the front door while they searched the house.

  Odell came down the stairs. “How about that coffee?” They followed her into the kitchen. “I was just telling Dr. Larsen how much time he saved us.”

/>   She turned from filling the coffeepot with water. “You found James?”

  “We haven’t found him. But we know who he is.”

  Caroline started the coffee, then sat down with the two men at the table.

  Odell said, “Dr. Larsen’s theory was right. James Kingery, that was the boy’s name, was never adopted—that year or any other. To quote the case file, ‘James had to be removed from the Rogers home after aggressive behavior toward the other Rogers ward.’”

  Mick clarified, “That would be you, Caroline.”

  She rubbed her arms, even knowing her chill came from inside. “James Kingery,” she echoed, as if saying his name might stir her memory. “I guess I never knew his last name.”

  “So what happened to him and where is he now?” Mick asked.

  Odell gave his head a sad shake. “Until he was eighteen he was in foster care, never in one home for more than a few months. Didn’t fit in; picked on younger children; threatened parents. You name the complaint, it’s in his file. We had some trouble tracing him after he left the system. He knocked around the state, never holding a single job for very long.” He looked at Caroline when he said, “Most of his jobs were at one-hour photo places and the like. He did a very short stint as a photographer’s assistant. The photographer said James had trouble remembering who was the photographer and who was the assistant.”

  Caroline said, “It all goes back to the camera that Christmas.” Sickness welled inside. The very thing that had brought her such joy had also brought destruction, and danger to Macie.

  Mick squeezed her hand. “Don’t oversimplify. The camera is just a symbol. That camera changed your life. He probably thinks it would have done the same for him. But also, you were adopted—by a family he’d considered his own. He was rejected everywhere he went. You’ve been successful with your career. He can’t hold a job.

  “He wants what you have. And if he can’t have that, he wants to take it away from you.”

  Odell said, “Dr. Larsen’s right. We were just discussing it when you arrived. I don’t think he’ll stop at anything to take what you have from you. If it takes robbing you of your life, he’ll do it.”