The Guardian (Mended Souls Book 1) (12 page)

T
racy cursed
her gullibility throughout the twenty-minute drive to Hillside Park. One phone call from Scott and she was on the run, almost like she was scared he’d change his mind and tell her their affair had been a big mistake if she didn’t do as he asked. She might as well admit it; when it came to Scott Anderson, she had no backbone.

She adjusted her sunglasses, grateful she’d remembered them to protect against both the bright October sunshine and a certain man’s all-seeing eyes. At least traffic was fairly light. It gave her more time to question her findings before she confronted him with something she wouldn’t be able to take back later. At the moment it was little more than unsubstantiated evidence, so unless he confessed, or she found something a lot more concrete than a hunch, the prosecutors had nothing to take him to trial with.

Which was her big excuse for agreeing to meet him today—or so she told herself. Tracy reached down and nervously fingered the digital recorder she’d grabbed from the lab. She was no amateur sleuth. She’d be lucky if this whole thing didn’t blow up in her face.

And what if she were right?

Did she actually intend to turn States evidence on her lover?

Gah
. Her stomach was a mess of knots and her heart was threatening to jump ship and leave her to sort out her own screwed up head.

The turn to the park came sooner than she would’ve liked. She signaled and turned into the parking lot, her gaze skimming the cars until they came to rest on Scott’s Mustang. She had to fight the urge to whip a U-turn and leave before she destroyed the one really good thing in her life.

She pulled into a nearby spot and shut off her car’s engine. It was her job to find out the truth whether she liked it or not. The sooner she got this over with, the sooner she’d find out if Scott really cared, or if it had all just been a sick game for him.

She turned the recorder on and hid it deep in her cross-body bag, gathered up the files she’d brought to prove her point, and climbed out of the car feeling as though she were headed for the gallows.

The couples wandering the paths in the warmth of the sun were an insult to her mood. They only showed her everything she was in danger of throwing away. Maybe, just this once, she could let sleeping dogs lay. What was done, was done. Nothing was going to bring that family their father back. Indeed, she might even make everything worse by bringing it all up again just when they’d begun the healing process.

Her steps dragging, she rounded a corner in the path and then it was too late.

Scott had been sitting on the steps of a classic white gazebo, staring at the phone in his hand as though willing the thing to ring. She must have made a sound because he glanced up and stilled. A relieved smile lit his face and showed off his sexy dimple.
Damn him.

He stood and started down the steps, but then hesitated and glanced over his shoulder a moment, before continuing to her side.

“Hi. I was worried about you,” he said.

Her curiosity at his behavior went by the wayside when he tugged her close and lowered that perfect mouth to hers. She had to concentrate to hang onto the file when all she really wanted was to wrap her arms around his neck and never let go.

“What took you so long?” he whispered, feathering distracting kisses from her brow to her chin.

“Tr…traffic,” she muttered, not willing to give up the moment just yet. His hair seemed touched by the Gods in this lighting; an antique gold shot through with chartreuse. With his jacket missing, his shoulders seemed impossibly broad, highlighting a thick neck and prominent Adam’s apple. She ached to lean in and nibble him there. See if he tasted half as decadent as he looked.

“You need to quit staring at me like that or I can’t be held accountable for what comes next,” he said, his voice little more than a growl.

Warmth flowed through her veins. He desired her, it was there in the flush of his cheeks, the heat in his eyes, and the hard length brushing up against her belly. The urge to throw the files along with the recorder into a garbage can and take her man deep into the forest where no one would find them was overwhelming.

But then reality intruded.

“Hey, mister. This your coat?”

Tracy jumped back as though scalded.

A young boy stood where Scott had been sitting, his hair rumpled and expression nervous.

“Friend of yours?” she asked, lifting her chin toward the child, and hugging the file to her chest.

Scott gazed at her clutching those papers and his face turned inscrutable. “What’s going on, Trace?”

That was the million dollar question of the day, wasn’t it?

“Later.” She stepped around him and moved toward the stairs. “Why don’t you introduce me to your young friend?”

The kid didn’t look to be more than eight or nine. Red-blond hair stuck up in tufts around a dirty, freckled face. He wore dinosaur pj’s which seemed kind of strange, but then, what did she know about what kids were into wearing these days?

Scott came up beside her and said under his breath, “That’s why I called. I think he’s in trouble, or something.” Then, to the kid, “You better keep my coat for now, it’s kind of chilly out here. This is Tracy, she’s a friend. I asked her to come ‘cause I get lonely sometimes.”

Tracy’s heart squeezed as his gaze skimmed over her with warm blue eyes, then he edged a few steps closer to the child. “How about you, buddy? Where’s your family?”

The boy’s eyes flashed fear and he backed up into the gazebo. “I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers.”

“Well, that’s certainly true,” Scott reassured him. “But we’re not really strangers any more, are we? You have my coat.”

“Scott,” Tracy warned.

He glanced back. “I’m just trying to…”

“Look out,” she cried as the boy took advantage of the moment, dropped the jacket, and leaped down the stairs. He froze, looked up at Scott with eyes that filled his whole face, then spun and took off across the park heading for a thick stand of spruce trees.

Tracy exchanged a startled look with Scott, then they broke into a trot and followed after the child.

“Wait, we don’t want to hurt you,” she called. “We just want to help you.” The kid wasn’t buying it though, he disappeared into the forest faster than she would’ve thought those little legs could go.

“That went well,” Scott grunted, and Tracy could tell his ribs were taking a beating.

“Why don’t you wait here and I’ll find him,” she offered.

He gave her a get-real glance.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” she gasped.

They crashed through the undergrowth like a herd of buffalo and Tracy wasn’t too surprised when they didn’t see any sign of dinosaur tracks.

“Who is he?” she asked when they finally stopped for breath.

Scott hunched over and held his side. “Not sure. I found him sleeping back there. Should’ve just called the cops.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “I figured maybe you could talk to him first. Make sure he’s not from an abusive family, or some shit.”

Something in Scott’s expression told Tracy more than he probably wanted her to know. She’d read somewhere before that he and Lucas came from a poor background. She sensed it had also been a rough upbringing. Her eyes teared for the boy who’d grown into the successful, driven man standing before her now.

She was in love with him.

And why that should surprise her she didn’t know. He had so many admirable qualities; how she’d ever doubted him was a mystery. He’d done nothing but care for her since the moment they’d met. Someone with characteristics like that—those of a natural care-giver—would never deliberately hurt another human being. She had it all wrong. The relief was sweet.

“What are you smiling about?” His voice made her jump and she dropped the file. Of course the wind picked that moment to escalate and carried the pages topsy-turvy into the brush.

“Oh no,” she cried. The last thing she wanted was some kid finding pictures of Lucas Carmichael laid out in a morgue.

She swore under her breath and chased after the quickly disappearing papers. One caught in a bramble patch and she scraped the back of her hand yanking it out. She hissed and shook her hand to relieve the sting. Just as she was about to turn away in search of more, a scrap of white caught her attention.

Tracy crouched for a better view.

A set of wide, frightened eyes stared back.

“Hey, you had us scared. Are you okay?”

It took a few hold-her-breath moments, but he finally nodded, and she sighed her relief. “Good. Okay, we’re going to get you out of there. Just hang on, buddy, it won’t be long.”

Tracy stood and turned excitedly, “Scott, I fou…”

Scott was staring at her like he didn’t even know her. “What the fuck is this?” He waved a sheaf of papers in the air and Tracy could see her yellow post-it notes floating in the breeze.

“I can explain,” she whispered, her stomach dropping through her shoes.

His laugh wasn’t pretty. Actually it was downright terrifying.

S
cott looked
down at the tattered remnants of paper clenched in his hand and saw only shattered dreams. In thirty-two years of hard living he’d never felt as gutted as he did right now. How was it even possible that he could still breathe? The pain was indescribable. The betrayal unimaginable.

“Scott,” Tracy pleaded, her lying green eyes soft with regret.

He decided to walk away before he said something he might regret and almost dared her to follow. To give him an outlet for the anger churning inside. Snapshots of their time together flitted through his mind, driving a spike to his heart. How could she believe he would cover up such a duplicitous act? Even if it were true, which it sure as fuck wasn’t, he would never condone driving while under the influence. What did she take them for? Lucas wasn’t like that—and neither was he.

According to her little
investigation
, she’d decided guilty until proven innocent. This was such bullshit. She could have, should have, talked to him about her suspicions. Instead, she’d decided to pull judge and jury without a fair trial.

Un-freaking believable.

How could he have been so stupid?

As he neared the gazebo, Scott noticed his discarded jacket and it brought him up short. Shit, he was supposed to be finding that poor kid. He couldn’t just leave. Much as it grated to have to see her again right now, he’d better go back and join the search. But first he needed to call Ray to set him up with a lawyer.

“So you’re ready to get back to work? That’s great, man. I’ve got a line on a new action film being shot in Panama. What do you think?” Ray’s nasally twang reverberated in his ear.

“Hi, Ray, yeah, I’m great. And you?” Sarcasm dripped from Scott’s voice, but he didn’t care. The guy could take a second for common pleasantries, couldn’t he?

Ray choked out an ingratiating laugh. “Sorry, man. Just excited to be getting back to work, that’s all.”

Scott frowned. Why had he never noticed how desperate his agent sounded before? Maybe it had to do with losing his sister and Lucas, but suddenly everything to do with that lifestyle seemed repulsive. It was little more than a rat-race between the publicity and never-ending fitness regimes in order to stay at the top of the lists. He was tired of it.

“We’ll talk about that later. Right now I need you to find me a good lawyer.” He waited for the other shoe to drop…

“What? Haven’t you gotten yourself into enough shit for awhile?” Ray sputtered. “I barely managed to keep a lid on the last episode. C’mon, man, you’re killing me here.”

And there it fell.

Scott inhaled a harsh breath and noticed the vapor when it released. It was cooling down quick. Time to find the kid. “I gotta go. Just get me a name, okay? Can you handle that?” He thumbed the phone to off and shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans before reaching for his coat. Tracy would need it, she only had a light shirt on. And why he cared about that, he was damned if he knew.

Annoyed, and more than a little frustrated with a green-eyed brunette, he turned and retraced his path back into the woods. It had grown considerably darker, the canopy above blocking both light and sound. Everything was muted, the traffic, the sunlight, even the cries of unseen birds in the trees. There’d been a forest not far from their trailer when he’d been growing up. He and Lucas spent a lot of time there; building tree forts and imaginary worlds where they were the rulers instead of the servants. He remembered Natalya scaring the hell out of them one time. She’d been sent to bring him and Lucas home, but instead she got turned around and lost her way. Scott wasn’t sure what his mom had been thinking; Nat was only four years old. By the time the boys found her, hidden in a briar patch, she’d been scratched, bleeding, and petrified. She would only settle down after Lucas took her in his arms and rocked her.

Funny, he’d forgotten that until now.

Pine needles crunched under his feet, sending up a pungent scent that reminded him of the hospital. He rubbed the cast and hoped it wouldn’t hamper the search efforts. He must be close, but there was no sign of either Tracy or the boy.

“Traceeey,” he called, and didn’t want to admit to the worry that clouded his tone. “Hell… lloooo.”

He stopped moving and listened, but only silence answered him.

Maybe she’d found the child and walked out already. But if that were the case he should have run into her, there was only the one path that he knew about.

His gaze searched the shadows, desperate for some hint of movement, something to tell him a direction to take.

And then he saw it.

The wind had kicked up again, the trees swaying like lovers dancing a waltz. A piece of paper floated up, then down, a victim of the currents, and Scott lunged. It was a copy of the forensic report. The one he’d read earlier with Tracy’s notes along the side. The one that labeled Lucas with negligence and him as an accomplice.

He crumpled it in his hand and pushed it into his pocket, instead of ripping it to shreds as he would have liked. At least it gave him a direction; deeper into the forest.

T
racy trudged through the brush
, wincing as branches poked and scratched her tender skin. It had begun to drizzle about ten minutes ago and she was already soaked. And cold. If she’d known she would be spending the night in the woods she could have changed into some all-weather clothes instead of her flimsy suit.

She shivered and hugged herself for warmth. That poor kid. If she was this cold she hated to think how he was feeling in nothing more than a pair of cotton pajamas. If only she and Scott hadn’t had that blow-out. They’d scared him with their yelling and he’d run the moment he could. She should probably phone the police and let them handle it, but… Scott’s expression when he’d asked for her help stayed her hand. For now. But if she didn’t find him soon, she wouldn’t have a choice; night was coming.

If only Scott had given her time to explain. The more Tracy thought about it, the more she realized she’d gotten it all wrong. She’d jumped to conclusions because her own insecurities had led her down that road. There had to be another answer and she planned on finding out what that was; as soon as she located Scott’s missing child.

She broke through a tangle of bushes and nearly slipped into a creek. The water was high thanks to the recent rains they’d had, almost cresting the steep banks and Tracy’s stomach rolled. Panic set in. She frantically scanned the banks looking for those silly dinosaur pj’s… and oh my God, there he was. He must have tried to cross and was caught by the current. It had swept him downstream and under some low-hanging branches.

She skidded into the water, gasping as it hit her thighs. The mud sucked at her feet, hampering her movements, but she forged on, desperate to get to the facedown body of the boy.

Don’t be too late. Please, Lord, don’t let me be too late.

She grabbed the branch in one hand for leverage and tugged on the sodden pajamas with the other. There was an awful moment went it didn’t seem like he was going to move, but then he broke free and sent Tracy backward onto her ass, water spraying everywhere. She blinked and scrambled up, hurrying to turn him over, and cringing at the pale face and blue lips. There was no time to waste.

She leaned over that too-white face, tipped his head back, pinched his nose, and breathed into his mouth. It took a couple of tries before the kid coughed, choked, and spit up half the stream. Tracy had never been so relieved in her entire life. Guess those First Aid courses had finally paid off.

“Take it easy. I’ve got you,” she stuttered. “You’re going to be okay.” Or he would be as soon as they got out of this water and into dry clothes. “Hang on to me, I’ll get us out of here.”

Easier said than done. The embankment was muddy and the water kept trying to knock her off her feet. The kid had a chokehold on her neck, which was good, but it made movement that much harder. Tracy was starting to worry that she wouldn’t be able to get them out.

Finally, the creek widened and grew shallower, allowing her to gain a footing and climb up the bank with the help of some branches. She fell to her knees and hugged the child tight, sobbing into his shoulder now that they were safe.

“That was close,” she said.

“I knew we’d make it.” He leaned back and met her teary-eyed gaze. “My daddy told me so.”

Looking into those innocent green eyes, the weirdest feeling came over her as light broke through the canopy of trees and bathed them in an ethereal glow. Where seconds earlier she’d been shivering and frightened, now there was only peace, and a warmth that went to the bone.

“Who’s your daddy?” she whispered, though she had a feeling she already knew the answer.

“He’s an angel,” the boy replied.