To Protect Her Son. Stella MacLeanЧитать онлайн книгу.
Neill, and all the heartache she’d survived because of him, her miscarriage, her ill-fated marriage to another man, her return to Eden Harbor, all of it. Close friends shared their lives with one another. Should Sherri learn that Gayle’s fictional life back in California wasn’t true, she would be hurt, and the trust between them destroyed.
“Why don’t you give Nate a chance to help Adam? He is so good with teenagers. He’d be perfect.”
“How can you be so sure? Besides, he must have a full case load already.”
Sherri gave her a smug grin. “Doesn’t matter. Nate won’t say no to me. So what do you say?”
“Tell me more about him,” Gayle asked, realizing too late that she didn’t want to hear about the shooting of another police officer. She didn’t want to learn firsthand how a family as nice as Sherri’s had lived through Nate’s injuries. It would only serve to remind her of another family that had been devastated by the shots fired from Harry’s weapon.
Sherri grinned with pride. “Nate is the white knight in the family, always riding to the rescue whenever any of his cousins are in trouble. He’s been a rock that we’ve all leaned on at one time or another. Right now he’s helping out his sister, Anna Barker. She’s a single mom with two boys.”
Gayle knew Anna from the single-parents group she’d joined when she first moved to Eden Harbor. She really liked her, looked forward to the meetings. She considered Anna her closest friend after Sherri. “Anna’s a member of my single-parents group. We always try to sit together at the meetings. I had no idea...”
“Yeah, she’s Nate’s current project, now that he doesn’t have to look out for me. Anna told me the other day he’s beginning to hover. She was only teasing, of course. We’re all so lucky to have him.” Sherri chuckled. “I don’t know what Anna would do without him. I’m surprised she never mentioned him to you.”
“We mostly talk about our kids at the meeting. The couple of times we’ve gone out to coffee it’s been to discuss work and that sort of thing.”
“Well, ask her the next time you see her, and she’ll tell you what it’s like when Nate takes an interest in your welfare.” Sherri led the way to the kitchen table, cups of coffee in hand, and they slid into chairs opposite each other. “So what about it?”
“About what?” Gayle asked, stalling for time. She didn’t want to turn down her friend’s offer of support. She didn’t want anything to jeopardize her relationship with Sherri. She was looking forward to the wedding, to being part of her friend’s happiness. She’d never been to a wedding in her entire life, let alone a member of the wedding party. She loved the green dress with the tight bodice and scooped neckline, the full-length skirt that hugged her body past her knees before flaring out at the bottom. She felt so sexy in it.
Uncertainty filled her heart and mind. How was she going to turn down Sherri’s offer to have her cousin help Adam without Sherri feeling hurt? On one hand, she was well aware that Adam could benefit from the help of a professional. On the other, she didn’t want that help coming from someone so closely linked to Sherri and Anna. “I’m... Are you sure Nate would be willing to help? Have you asked him already?”
“No, of course not. I wanted to talk to you first.” Sherri glanced at her anxiously. “Gayle, are you all right?”
“I’m...fine.” She rubbed her sweaty palms together, and glanced at her watch. “But I really should get home. I promised Adam we’d watch a movie together tonight, part of my plan to get to the bottom of what’s going on with him.”
“That sounds good. We can talk about the wedding flowers another time.”
“Oh! Sorry! I forgot we were doing that this evening. I’ll call Adam and let him know I won’t be home for a while.”
Sherri’s smile was reassuring. “No. Don’t do that. The flowers will be really easy to decide. I’ve pretty well made up my mind about what kind I want. All I need you to do is help me pick out the actual arrangements from the florist’s book.”
Gayle said her goodbyes and headed to her car. She had to stop worrying about something that would never happen. She’d spent too much time worrying about the past. Getting help for Adam was all that mattered.
A WEEK LATER, Gayle was putting the last load of clothes in the washer and looking forward to watching The Comedy Network on television. She’d been ironing all evening, a tedious chore but one she insisted upon doing every week. Ironing her sheets, pressing the edges of her towels, ironing her jeans, gave her a sense of order. She’d always done the ironing, even as a child living in the midst of her parents’ disorganized existence. Tonight it was helping her remain calm.
Adam had gone out with a friend four hours earlier with the firm promise that he would keep his curfew of ten o’clock. It was nearly eleven, and he still hadn’t returned. She only knew the name of one of the other boys—Derrick Little. She’d called his mother to be told that Derrick had been home for over an hour, and she didn’t know where Adam could be.
She had just unplugged the iron, leaving it on the board to cool, when the doorbell rang. Relief mingled with anxiety, making her bump her wrist against the hot surface of the iron. “Ouch!” she muttered as she headed to the front door, holding her stinging wrist across her chest.
When she peeked through the sidelights of the wide wooden door she saw the clear outline of a police officer standing next to her son. Her heart sagged. Her mind stilled at the fear of what this could mean. Sucking in her breath, she lowered her injured wrist and opened the door.
“Gayle Sawyer?”
She nodded, her gaze fixed on Adam. His face was bruised, his eyes angry. There was a small cut on his forehead. “What happened?” She reached for her son, who immediately stepped back, out of her grasp.
She clutched the door frame for support. “Adam, are you all right?”
“I’m Officer Edwards. May I come in? Your son’s been in a fight with a group of teens. We need to talk to you.”
“A fight. My son doesn’t do that. We’ve talked about it many times. About how fighting is not the way to solve disagreements and how important it is to respect others...”
She forced herself to stop talking. If she didn’t she’d cry. She would not cry in front of a police officer. She would remain calm.
“Please come in. Can I get you a cup of coffee?” she asked, not knowing what to do once the tall young officer was standing in her living room. She couldn’t look at Adam, and let him see the worry in her eyes. As much as he was being difficult at the moment, he was a good kid. She would not prejudge him, certainly not with a police officer as a witness.
“Thank you, but no. May we sit here?” the officer asked, nodding toward the sofa and chair in front of the angel stone fireplace.
“Certainly.” Still unable to look at Adam, she led the way into the room and sat on the armchair next to the fireplace, leaving Adam and the officer to sit together on the sofa.
Adam slouched in one corner, his eyes fixed on the fireplace mantel. Was he not going to look at her, or volunteer even one word of explanation? “What’s this all about?” she asked the officer, but her gaze remained fixed on her son.
“There was a fight among a group of boys down along the waterfront this evening. Several of those involved were taken to the police station. I thought it more appropriate to bring your son home while we talked a bit.”
“What did Adam do?” Gayle’s heart crushed against her ribs as memories of another evening flashed across her mind. The police had shown up at the apartment where she and Harry lived, looking to talk to Harry. When they’d realized she was alone, they’d left. Before they did they told her that Harry was