Homeplace (11 page)

Read Homeplace Online

Authors: JoAnn Ross

Tags: #Washington (State), #Women Lawyers, #Contemporary, #Legal, #Fiction, #Romance, #Single Fathers, #Sheriffs, #General, #Love Stories

BOOK: Homeplace
8.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Yet another example of how screwed up bureaucracies can get.”

She gave him a long look, appearing encouraged by the fact that Jack seemed to believe her. “But the next day his wife’s diamond ring went missing,” she continued. “When it was found in the bottom of the hamper in my room, they yanked me outta that home and plunked me back into juvie.” She shrugged. “When I found out I was pregnant, Randy wanted me to get an abortion. When I didn’t, he told his dad about the baby. That’s when his dad said he’d teach me a lesson I’d never forget.”

She took in a deep breath. “So I ran away and was living on the street. Until Mama Ida took me in.”

Unfortunately, during his time in Seattle, Jack had heard similar sordid stories. But he’d never gotten used to them.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. First thing on the agenda is to get tomorrow’s hearing out of the way. Then we’re going to take care of that creep once and for all.”

Any color that had returned immediately drained from her face again. “You’re not going to tell anyone about this?”

“You bet I am.”

“But it’ll only be my word against his.” Jack could see the scared child beneath the street-hardened exterior.

“We’ll work to get corroborating testimony.” His tone and his expression were meant to reassure. “You undoubtedly weren’t the first girl he tried to rape.”

“But—”

“You’ve got to trust me, Gwen.”

“Maybe I do. A little. I guess.” Jack thought she sounded surprised by that. “But all that stuff happened before I came to Mama Ida’s. I don’t want to stir things up again.”

“I can understand that. But I’m also willing to bet that you don’t want any other girl to suffer what you did. Or maybe even worse. We have to make sure the county doesn’t put any more kids in that dangerous situation.”

This time the silence was long and strained. Jack could practically hear the wheels turning around in her head.

“I hate the idea of any other girl having to put up with that shit,” she said finally. “Because most of them probably wouldn’t be as tough as me, so no telling what he might do to them.” She heaved a deep, resigned sigh. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Good girl.” This time he went ahead, followed his instincts and patted her knee in a purely paternalistic gesture. “It’s going to be all right.
You’re
going to be all right.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Sure I do.” He twisted the key, bringing the engine to life again.

They’d gone about a mile when she asked, “How?”

“Because someone I knew went through the same thing when she was growing up. Unfortunately, she wasn’t as quick with the knife as you were. But she got past it. And so will you.”

Gwen appeared to think about that for another long silent time. “Was she my age?”

“Not when it happened. But she was just a couple years older than you when she started dealing with all those feelings she’d kept bottled up. After she told me about it.”

Despite Peg’s tearful protests, he’d wanted to track down the bastard who’d raped a thirteen-year-old girl and kill him with his bare hands. Fortunately, he’d avoided prison when it turned out the guy had died in a hunting accident two years earlier. Jack’s only regret at the time was that pervert’s death hadn’t been long and excruciatingly painful.

“She must have trusted you a lot.”

“I guess she must have.” Even as he felt that familiar, bittersweet tug on his heart, Jack managed to slant the teenager a faint smile. “Since she married me.”

8

T
he minute she opened the front door, Raine knew that the sheriff had not come to the house on any social call. She drew back to study Gwen, who was standing a bit behind him. Guilt shadowed the teenager’s eyes.

“Let me guess. Your fingers got a little sticky again.”

The girl shrugged. If her downcast face were any longer, she’d be in danger of stepping on it. “I didn’t mean to. It just happened.”

“No,” Raine corrected firmly. Frustration made her voice sharp. “It didn’t just happen, Gwen. You made the choice to steal.” She turned toward Jack. “What did she take?”
Oh, please
, Raine thought,
let it be something small
.

“A pair of earrings. The tag said ten dollars, which keeps it from being a felony,” he said, answering her unspoken prayer. “And proving once again that God does indeed watch out over fools and kids, she got caught before she took them out of the store. Which doesn’t officially make her guilty of anything. But it’s sure not going to help your grandmother’s custodial case any.”

Raine had already figured that out for herself. “I suppose you have to make a report?”

“Yeah.” She reluctantly gave him points for looking nearly as chagrined as she felt. “The call from the dispatcher was already logged. Also, the shop owner is the mayor’s daughter. I couldn’t sweep this one under the rug, even if I wanted to. So, the thing we’ve got to decide now is what we’re going to do about it.”

“We?” Brows knit, Raine shot him a suspicious look. Life in the city, along with her litigious occupation, tended to make her unwilling to trust anything. Especially something as seemingly out of nature as she and Sheriff Jack O’Halloran being on the same side of any issue. “It appears you’ve already done your job, Sheriff. When you took Gwen into custody.”

“I didn’t take her into custody, dammit. I brought her home. There’s a huge difference. And believe it or not, Counselor, my goal in life is not to put every teenager in Coldwater Cove behind bars. The thing is, the kid’s going to need representation at her probation hearing tomorrow morning—”

“So soon?”

“Olympic County’s known for its rocket docket. As you’ve undoubtedly noticed, Coldwater Cove isn’t exactly the big city. We don’t get a lot of crime, which means the court calendar isn’t as jammed up as you’re undoubtedly accustomed to. Gwen’s case will be one of the first on tomorrow’s docket.”

“Damn. You’re right. She needs an attorney.”

Gwen turned toward her. “Why can’t you be my lawyer?” Her eyes turned harder than any sixteen-year-old’s should be. “Or maybe you’d just as soon have me in jail so I’d be out of your grandmother’s house.”

“Of course Raine doesn’t want you out of my house. And don’t worry, darling, none of us will allow you to go to jail.” A familiar voice entered the conversation.

Biting back a curse, Raine turned toward her grandmother. Today’s sweatshirt announced her to be
Director of Everyone’s Life
. Raine thought that to be about the most accurate statement she’d ever read. “I thought you’d agreed to stay in bed.”

The elderly woman’s initial response to that was a grunt and a steely gaze. “You and the doctor agreed. I don’t remember being a party to such a pact. Besides, when I looked out the bedroom window and saw the sheriff’s truck, I figured I’d better come see what was up.” She shook her head as she shifted her gaze to her young charge. “I thought we’d agreed that filching things was an inappropriate way of dealing with stress, Gwen, dear.”

The girl’s expression got even glummer. “I forgot.”

“Well, I suppose, that’s excusable, under the circumstances,” Ida agreed with a consoling smile that frustrated Raine all the more. Surely her grandmother didn’t believe such a blatant lie? “This has been a trying time for all of us. So, the best we can do is deal with it. And move on.” She turned to Raine. “Of course you’ll represent Gwen.”

“Dammit, Gram,” Raine flared, irritated by the way she was being steamrollered again. “I’ve told you time and time again today, I’m not licensed in Washington.”

“But you’re standing up for me.”

“As your granddaughter,” Raine reminded her firmly. “I’ll only be speaking to the court as a family member.”

“Gwen’s a member of this family.”

“Not legally.”

It was Ida’s turn to shake her head in disgust. “As much trouble as your mother gave me, there are times, dear, and this is definitely one of them, when I do find myself wishing you’d inherited a bit more of her free-spiritedness.”

Raine lifted her chin. “I wouldn’t be where I was today if I had.” Her voice remained calm, belying the inner turmoil she so often experienced when compared with her glamorous, flighty mother.

“I’m not certain where you are is exactly where you should be,” Ida grumbled.

“Not that I want to interfere in a family discussion,” Jack interrupted mildly, “but may I make a suggestion?”

“What?” Raine and Ida asked in unison.

“What about my cousin Dan?”

Raine blinked. “What about him?”

“He’s an attorney. With a private practice. I could give him a call.”

“I don’t know,” Raine vacillated uncharacteristically.

There was always the chance that the country lawyer could do more harm than good. She recalled Daniel Webster O’Halloran from the high school debating team. He’d certainly seemed intelligent, despite his unfortunate habit of making out on bus trips to various competitions around the state. While he might not have been the hellion his cousin was back then, the sheriff’s cousin certainly hadn’t lacked for female companionship, either.

“Dan’s not some hick ambulance chaser,” Jack said, as if reading her mind.

“I didn’t say he was.” But that was precisely what she’d been worried about.

“Daniel wrote up my will,” Ida volunteered. “Seemed like a real smart boy.”

“Writing a will isn’t exactly on a par with providing a criminal defense,” Raine pointed out dryly. “Or dealing with a custody case. No offense intended,” she said to Jack.

“None taken.” He shrugged again. “Since it was my cousin you insulted this time. But if it eases your mind any, before he returned home to hang out his shingle, Dan was a federal prosecutor in San Francisco. I figure he should be able to handle a simple case of juvenile shoplifting.”

“Well.” Embarrassed at having been caught in an act of negative stereotyping, Raine vaguely wished they could begin this conversation over again.

“I think you ought to call him,” Ida volunteered. “After all, dear, one should never look a gifted horse in the mouth.”

“He does sound like a solution to our problem,” Raine allowed. “But do you think he’d be willing to take our case?” she asked Jack.

“Sure. Just let me give him a call.”

Five minutes later, after sending Gwen upstairs to her room to think about the consequences of what she’d done, Raine was with Ida in the kitchen, listening to one side of a telephone conversation that didn’t begin all that encouragingly.

“I didn’t realize you were out of town,” Jack was saying.

Her spirits sinking even lower, Raine was forced to watch him listen to his cousin on the other end of the line, his occasional “uh huhs” and nods giving her not a single clue as to the direction the conversation was taking. “Just a sec,” he said finally. “I’ll ask her.”

He covered the mouthpiece of the kitchen wall phone and turned toward her. “He’s in Anacortes running down a deadbeat dad for a client. But he says it’s just a matter of waiting for the guy to show up at his favorite bar after work. So, he could meet with us later this evening, if that’s okay with you.”

“That sounds fine.” Evening meetings were a way of life in Raine’s legal world.

“Terrific.” He returned to the conversation. “She says that’s fine. So, how about meeting at my place when you get back to town. Say around eight? Okay. See you then.” He hung up, seeming satisfied with both the situation and himself.

“Your place?” Raine inquired coolly. “What’s the matter with meeting here? Or at your cousin’s office?”

“Because he wants me at the meeting for background.”


Your
office, then.”

“Your grandmother’s problems have already cost me one evening with my daughter this week. I figure if we get together at my place after I put her to bed, I can kill two birds with one stone.”

That was admirable, Raine admitted reluctantly. If any of the men she’d worked with at Choate, Plimpton, Wells & Sullivan had shared similar feelings, none of them had ever dared state them out loud.

“I suppose, since you put it that way…”

“Then we’re set. In fact, if you’re willing to settle for spaghetti, you can eat supper with Amy and me.”

Mental warning sirens sounded. Raine folded her arms. “Are you accustomed to cooking dinner for people whose cases you’re working on, Sheriff?”

“Not as a rule. Since most of the people I meet in my line of work aren’t the kind I’d want to spend all that much personal time with.”

“I’ve never believed in mixing business and pleasure.”

“Now why doesn’t that surprise me? And for the record, Harvard, I’m not planning to seduce you with pasta and a jug of red wine, then jump your bones the minute you let your guard down. The only reason I suggested you join us for dinner is that the farm’s a bit of a drive out of town—”

“You live on a farm?” Raine was distracted by that idea. There was no way she could picture this man wearing denim overalls and tilling soil. Not that he didn’t look strong enough to haul around plows, or bales of hay, or whatever farmers did all day. Farming just seemed too tame.

“A Christmas tree farm,” he divulged. “And since it’s off the beaten track, it can be difficult to find if you’re not familiar with the back roads, which is why you’d be better off making the drive in the daylight.”

“I grew up here,” she reminded him. “I’m certain I can manage.”

Another shrug drew her gaze to his shoulders, which seemed even wider than they had last night. Even as she assured herself that she wasn’t the slightest bit interested, Raine couldn’t but help notice how strong and hard his chest appeared beneath that knife edge-creased uniform shirt.

“Well,” Ida said, rubbing her hands together with obvious satisfaction as he sketched them a map to the farm on a notepad he’d pulled from his pocket, “now that we’ve got that settled, how about joining us for lunch, Jack? I was planning to rustle up some tofu chili and cold meatloaf sandwiches.”

“Thanks anyway, ma’am,” he said quickly. Too quickly, Raine thought. Obviously, he’d had occasion to sample her grandmother’s infamous meatloaf. “But I’d best be getting back to the office. A lot of paperwork piled up during yesterday’s little drama.”

With that excuse hanging in the air, he escaped out the door. Watching him leave, and thinking about the upcoming lunch, Raine was tempted to follow.

“Such a nice young man,” Ida enthused as they watched him walk across the driveway with a long, masculine ground-eating stride that Raine found reluctantly pleasing. “Did you know he’s a widower, Raine?”

“He mentioned that.” Instead of the traditional khaki uniform trousers, he was wearing a pair of Wrangler jeans. As he climbed into the truck, the denim pulled snug, causing Raine’s mouth to go a little dry. “And, although I know you can’t resist meddling in other people’s lives—”

“I never meddle,” Raine’s grandmother protested on a huff of breath.

“Of course you do. But any ideas you might have concerning Sheriff O’Halloran and me would be a waste of time.”

“Ideas?” Ida feigned innocence.

“Matchmaking ideas.”

“Oh, fiddlesticks,” Ida scoffed. “That thought hadn’t even occurred to me.” She waited just a beat, then added, “But if a woman were interested in finding herself a man, she could certainly do a great deal worse than Jack O’Halloran.”

“That’s a matter of opinion. Besides, my life is already full enough. I’m not in the market for a man.”

“Don’t be silly,” Lilith, who chose that moment to enter the sunny kitchen, stated. “Every woman’s in the market for a man, whether she admits it or not.”

“I’m not.”

Lilith gave her elder daughter a long, silent appraisal. “If that’s true, darling,” she decided finally, “you’re in even worse shape than I’d feared.”

Not wanting to get into an argument with her mother, Raine managed, just barely, to hold her tongue.

 

Jack was irritated as hell at himself. It wasn’t bad enough that he’d shaved twice today, when he found himself actually watching out the window for Raine, he knew he was in deep, deep trouble.

“She’s still got ten minutes,” his cousin, who’d arrived a half hour earlier advised.

“I wasn’t keeping track.”

“Of course you weren’t.” Barely repressed laughter thickened Dan’s deep voice. “You just figured it’d be good exercise to wear a path in that rug.”

“She could be lost.”

“True enough. But from what you’ve told me, I’d guess that the lady travels with a cell phone. If she has any problem, she’ll undoubtedly call.”

“She might not have the number.”

“So, she calls 911.”

Other books

Kill Switch (9780062135285) by Rollins, James; Blackwood, Grant
Frag Box by Richard A. Thompson
The Blood Ballad by Rett MacPherson
Double Blind by D. P. Lyle
The Jock by Leveaux, Jasmine
An Improper Seduction by Quill, Suzanne