Catch of a Lifetime (7 page)

   Wouldn't that be a kick in the shins? The flake who'd all but dumped the kid and run was being pined for, while the father who was thrilled beyond belief to have his son live with him couldn't even get a "Dad" out of him?

   "I think you're right, Michael," Angel said. "Being in a cage would be horrible. You'd have to wait for someone to feed you and talk to you, and you'd be stuck with someone else directing your life. It must be awful. I don't think I'd like to see those monkeys like that."

   "It made me sad, too, like when Rainbow was in jail. She was crying when I went to see her with the social worker."

   Logan's entire body froze. He couldn't have heard right. Rainb—Christine had gone to jail?

   "When was this, Michael?" He worked very hard at keeping the anger from his voice.

   Michael shrugged. "I dunno. It was only for a night and she bought me lots of tater chips and soda and ice cream before she went, so I didn't mind. She did, though. That's why she took me to the zoo. To show me what it was like and to tell me never to do anything bad so I wouldn't be locked up like the animals. And I never did."

   
Never
. At six.

   Christ. The kid had seen more of the bad side of life than Logan had at that age. Yet there Michael was, shrugging it off like water off his back. How much was bravado and how much was childhood ignorance? And how much was the futility inherent in being six?

   "Well." Angel's voice was a bit too sharp, so at least she was with him on that subject. Good thing if she was going to watch his son—not that she could do a worse job than the child's own mother. He was appreciating her child studies degree more and more.

   "Why don't we decide what ice cream we're all going to have? What flavor do you think I should get, Michael?"

   It was almost as if she could read his mind. Not that it was too hard to figure out, but it boded well for her babysitting skills—which were obviously leagues be yond Christine's parenting ones.

   Logan went through the mechanics of ordering and paying for the treat, even ate one of his own, but for the life of him couldn't remember what flavor he'd ordered. Not that it mattered, because he didn't even taste it.

   With Michael and Angel discussing the merits of ice cream flavors as they strolled through the strip mall af terwards, the only thing Logan could focus on was that Christine had gone to jail and left their child in the care of a social worker. He couldn't believe it.

   And he'd thought the
circus
had been a hell of a life for a kid. At least no one in his family had gone to jail, and no social worker had ever shown up. They'd also had more than potato chips and ice cream to eat—what the hell kind of meal was that for a child? Thank God Christine had come to her senses and left Michael with him. She obviously wasn't cut out to be a parent, but he… he was going to give his son everything he'd need to lead a normal, lawful life.

   And if that included a well-educated babysitter who'd shown up naked on his boat, well, the money he'd just spent on her clothes was nothing compared to the security in knowing he had someone capable looking after his son.

   Red lingerie notwithstanding.

"ANGEL, WATCH THIS!" MICHAEL JUMPED OFF THE EDGE OF the pool in Logan's yard and did a half twist in the air before belly-flopping into the water. That had to hurt.

   Angel clapped when he surfaced. "Good job! You almost made it all the way around that time."

   "I'll get it. You'll see."

   "I'm sure you will, Michael." She leaned back on the chaise lounge to watch him practice as he'd been doing since lunch.

   Logan had disappeared into his study to handle some business, and she and Michael had had an interesting afternoon making paper animals with pages from his notebook, as well as figuring out how to make a peanut butter sandwich.

   Between the two of them, there'd been enough pea nut butter on their fingers that they hadn't needed the sandwich part, but Angel wasn't willing to pass up her first taste of
dry
bread.

   "I'm gonna do a handstand, 'kay, Angel?"

   "Go ahead." She hooked the pen on the notebook where she'd jotted her observations and impressions before lunch, then ran her fingers over the soft cover. She'd used a quarter of the pages already.

   "Didya see me?" Michael popped up out of the water and shook the hair out of his eyes. It was the first time since she'd met him that he wasn't wearing his hat, though he had given it a place of honor atop Rocky on the other chaise.

   "I did. Your legs were very straight."

   "Cool. Now count how long I can stay under." He took a breath and ducked back beneath the surface.

   Angel started counting and smoothed her dress over her legs. Such a cool feeling, to quote Michael. She hadn't bought many dresses at the Atlantis Salvager's Market, mainly because they weren't practical ev eryday wear in the ocean, but after being in this one all day, she might just have to spend a few hours on deserted islands wearing them. They made her feel so feminine and pretty, and Mers were, after all, ac customed to beauty. The oceans and the creatures in them, Atlantis, the reefs, their people… life was beautiful under the sea.

   She looked out over the water beyond the stone wall surrounding Logan's backyard to where the rays of the sun sparkled across the tips of the waves that were gently rolling ashore. A pair of pelicans flew in shadow against the sunlight in the distance, one taking a sudden dive. A pod of dolphins swam offshore, their fins breaking the surface—

   No. Those weren't dolphins.

   They were sharks.

   Hammerheads.

   Harry.

   Godsdammit.

   Just like that, her peace shattered. For all she'd like to think that she was here for a greater purpose, the truth was that she was stranded here—all thanks to Harry.

   And herself.

   Angel sighed. Right.
She
was ultimately respon sible for what had happened and where she was. Rod and The Council weren't going to let her forget that when she returned home—which was why she had to return triumphant.

   She brushed her fingers over the notebook again. This would be her defense when she faced them.

   "How long was that, Angel?" Michael sputtered as he surfaced, gulping in big breaths.

   "Uh, thirty seconds, Michael. Good job! But I think you should to take a break."

   "Yeah. That's a good record for today. Now I'm gonna see how long I can float on my back, 'kay?"

   Angel hid her smile. How well she remembered that recuperative tactic from physical education class. "Okay. Go ahead."

   She picked up her notebook and opened it to the page comparing Mer and Human offspring. Aside from the obvious differences of food, shelter, and legs, she hadn't listed much else. Treats, cajoling to get their way, being the light of their parents' lives… all the similarities sup ported her idea of using children to advance the purpose of the Coalition.

   She clicked her pen to add Michael's flotation tactic and paper animals to her list when, "Could it really be? Angel Tritone?" almost had her jumping out of the chair.

   She turned around. Then back. Who-in-Hades had said that?

   "Psst! My dear girl!" Something small and brown waved green front legs at her from atop the wall. A lizard. An anole, to be exact, the brown coloring camouflaging him against the stone. He must have turned his limbs back to green to catch her attention.

   "How are you?" The dewlap beneath his chin turned a vibrant orange as the green color slowly slipped over the rest of his body. "I'm Stewart. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about your studies. Is this one of them? I could help, you know. I have been living amongst Humankind for quite a few
selinos
." Stewart's gesticulating hand moved as quickly as his words.

   "They're not all as nice as this gentleman, if I do say so, and that child worries me. Why, before I ended up here, I'd gone through three tails at the hands of children. Three!" A shudder rippled down his body. "Vicious creatures, I tell you. Worse than any house cat. Well, perhaps not cats."

   Angel glanced at Michael, who was happily spouting water from his mouth like a whale, and opened her note book to shield the talking lizard. Bad enough Michael knew about Mers; the fact that animals could speak was just as top secret. "Hi, Stewart. I can't really talk right now." She motioned to Michael.

   "Ah yes.
Bipeds."
Stewart gave her a thumbs-up with a tiny digit. "But I can be of assistance, you know. I've had extensive fieldwork in the strolling habits of Humans and ways to avoid them. Plus, I did my disserta tion on escape tactics from the captivity their young find such delight in subjecting anoles to." He shuddered, a brown line of pigment zigzagging over his back.

   "I'll take up residence in this lovely gardenia bush for the duration of your stay." Stewart shook his elon gated head, then tapped the side of it with another bony digit. "But how silly of me. That won't be long at all, will it? You'll be leaving tomorrow because of that tail thing your kind has to deal with. I'm quite glad that doesn't apply to anolis carol
inensis.
I'd hate to think of my life being governed by tail issues. Whenever my tail becomes a problem, I simply leave it. How utterly horrifying to have to live your life according to your inability to do so. How
do
you stand it?"

   The tail was nothing compared to Stewart's loud, godlier-than-thou attitude and the threat of her study being interrupted by an overzealous, self-important lizard.

   "Hey, Angel!" Michael climbed onto the lip of the pool, and Angel flipped her hair back—and over— the stone wall, hiding Stewart from view. "Didya see me? Watch this!" Michael jumped in, shouting, "Cannonball!"

   Funny. Mer children did the same thing off buildings in Atlantis—though they were usually
holding
cannon balls. She'd add that to the list.

   Stewart coughed behind her and
pfft
-ed the strands of her hair out of his face. "As I was saying—"

   "Thank you for your offer, Stewart, but if you don't mind, the less interaction I have with wildlife, the less chance there is for one of you to slip up in front of the Humans and speak. Think of what that would do for your avoidance tactics around them."

   Stewart stroked his pink dewlap, his eyes hooded. "Hmm. Good point. I'll just keep an eye out for any thing interesting then and report in when I see it. Good evening, Your Highness." He straightened his tail, the tip turning brown first as he faded, limb by limb, into the background of stone. "Oh. A mention or two of my name in your report wouldn't be remiss, you know."

   A mention? For almost breaking another Mer rule? Angel didn't think so. She'd be in enough hot water when she got back; she didn't need Stewart's help. She was about to tell him so when Michael popped up by the edge of the pool again, saving her from breaking that rule.

   "How was that, Angel—oh cool! A chameleon! My friend Evan had one. Let's catch it so I can have a pet, too!"

   Stewart mumbled something about heathens and children in the same breath as the tip of his tail twitched up—a sure sign he was ready to take off. While it was an idea Angel heartily endorsed, it wouldn't teach Michael anything.

   "Michael, remember what you said about the mon keys in the cage? How you wouldn't like that?" She reached for the little boy's arm to stop him from rushing to the wall. "He wouldn't either."

   "But I'd make it just like his home."

   "Except he wouldn't be free."

   "Oh. You mean it'd be like he was in jail?"

   She hadn't meant to remind him about his mother, but no matter how self-aggrandizing Stewart was, liz ards deserved the same freedoms as other beings.

   And maybe, she grudgingly noted, even a mention in her report since he had—albeit inadvertently—brought about this lesson with Michael. "That's right, Michael. It would be like locking him up. And that's not fair since he hasn't done anything but walk on the wall. There's nothing wrong with that."

   She uncrossed her ankles and put her feet in the grass, scooting to the edge of the chair. "So let's just enjoy watching him in the wild. That way you get to see what an anole is like, and he gets to live his life how he wants and do his part for the environment. Everyone's happy."

   Michael licked his lips, his eyes darting from Stewart to her.

   Stewart tensed, his tail inching higher, his back legs flexing…

   "Okay." Michael shrugged. "He's kinda boring anyway. Just sitting there, looking scared. Besides, I'm gonna go play with my animals." With that, the little boy ran to the other side of the pool, grabbed Rocky, plunked the baseball cap on his head, then headed to the patio table for his paper menagerie.

   "
Boring
?" Stewart's dewlap morphed to a brilliant red. "I'll have him know I've verbally sparred with the best and the brightest of the lizard world. I've—"

   Angel managed to shush Stewart when she caught sight of Logan at his office door. She grabbed her note book and opened it, once more shielding Stewart from Human eyes. After all the strange questions she'd asked Logan today, the last thing he needed to see was her talking to a lizard.

   She could only imagine what he'd think of her then.

Logan took one look at Angel and changed his mind again; someone Up There
was
on his side after all.