Guarded, page 11
part #2 of Tidewater Series
“Why, I saw Colbert last week. He stopped in my shop on the way to his cabin. Told me to put that lovely carnival-glass butter dish aside for Janice. She’s been wanting it to complete her collection, you know,” Mrs. Blaney said. Her blond curly hair bounced as she bobbed her head. “Told me he’d be back yesterday to pick it up.”
“Oh, the blue dish? That was a nice piece,” Mrs. Hoffstedder said. She frowned, pushing her black horn-rimmed glasses up on her nose. “And he didn’t show? Curious. You know, Maureen said that Colbert Rush didn’t come to the barbershop for his monthly trim either. First haircut he’s missed in thirty years.”
“I tell you, it’s just like what happened last summer with John Wallace,” Mrs. Blaney said. “He went missing too.”
“Tosh. You read too many mysteries. Everybody knows John Wallace ran off with some woman he met on the Internet. And Colbert, that man has barely been a part of this town in twenty years. He’s some uppity jeweler in Tidewater. He only comes here for the antiques and his haircuts. He probably just forgot about your carnival glass.” Mrs. Hoffstedder waved away the other woman’s concern. “You mark my words, he’ll call next week wanting that dish. And when he does, you should charge him double.”
At that moment, the pair caught sight of Shelley with Lucy.
Shelley’s cheeks heated. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it was kind of hard to ignore them. Plus, they were discussing two missing men from Elkridge. “Good evening, Mrs. Blaney, Mrs. Hoffstedder.” Shelley pretended not to have heard their conversation just like the shop owners pretended they hadn’t been gossiping.
“’Evening, Dr. Morgan,” Mrs. Blaney said with a grin. “Lovely night for a walk.”
“Yes, it is,” Shelley agreed, stepping up her pace to get past the two busiest bodies in twenty miles. “Have a nice night.”
“Good night,” the two owners called out in unison.
Turning left at the corner, Shelley made her way up Zoo Lane. One more block and she’d be at her car. Good thing. Lucy’s pace had slowed considerably. “Hang on, girl.” Shelley bent down and scooped up the exhausted ferret. Lucy might love her walks, but she’d worn herself out attacking Dev this afternoon. “I should make you walk for trying to eat Dev,” Shelley groused teasingly, then tucked Lucy inside her coat.
The day had been unseasonably warm, but the moment the sun set, it definitely felt like November in Elkridge.
Once Lucy settled inside her jacket pocket, Shelley continued strolling. Her mind replayed the beginning of that interrupted seduction scene on her couch.
Oh my, just remembering the heat in his gaze as he’d stared at her. She’d licked her lips intentionally, just to see how he’d react. It had been the first time she’d been certain he was looking at her with that intensity. The few times she thought she’d seen it, he had looked away before she could be sure. And man alive, on the couch, he looked at her as way more than his old college buddy.
And that incredible, soul-melting kiss at the door.
Chances were, if Lucy, that little magician, hadn’t escaped her cage, Shelley would have pulled him back into her apartment and would still be kissing him. Maybe more.
Definitely more.
And suddenly her coat was stifling. Unzipping her blue fleece-lined jacket, she started to fan it. Lucy popped her head out of the pocket and Shelley froze. “Sorry, girl. Forgot you were there.” She zipped the jacket back up.
Dang, she needed a cold shower or Dev to come back and finish what he’d started. Next time, I’m locking Lucy in her cage in another room. Possibly on another floor.
Shelley crossed the street at the light, still lost in thought. She passed the squat evergreen bushes that framed the parking lot of the zoo and was nearly to the entrance when she stumbled over something.
She flew forward but managed to clutch Lucy to her with one hand. Tumbling down, her knees and right palm skidded along the cracked white sidewalk, but Lucy remained safely clasped against Shelley’s chest.
“You okay, girl?” Shelley righted herself and unzipped her jacket enough for the ferret to poke out her head. Her round pink eyes were wide and searching before she sniffed the air. Lucy sneezed, then burrowed back into the warmth of the coat. “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
Shelley turned her palm and blew cool air on the skinned heel of her right hand. She started to rise, still blowing on the stinging wound and searching for the source of her fall.
A pair of blue sneakers protruded from beneath a nearby bush. A very familiar pair of sneakers. Fear had her bolting to the shrub, her skinned hand all but forgotten.
“Beau?” She gently patted his leg through his threadbare jeans. “Beau, speak to me. Are you hurt?”
“Doc?” His voice sounded thick. Like he had a bad cold.
“Yes, it’s me.” Relief flooded through her at the sound of his voice. If he could talk, then he was conscious, breathing, and had a pulse. All good signs. “Can you come out from under there?”
“No, ma’am. I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He paused, then added. “Sorry I tripped you.”
“Beau, that’s okay. I’m not angry.” When he didn’t respond, she said, “I really must insist that you come out. You could get hurt lying on the ground like that.”
Beau made a derisive noise and muttered something that sounded like “Too late.”
The fallen leaves crunched on the ground, and the shrubbery rustled as Beau drew his legs farther beneath the bushes. More rustling leaves and branches. Then he slowly poked his head out. He lumbered to his feet with one arm wrapped around his midsection and awkwardly shuffled just beyond the reach of the halo of light cast by the streetlamp. In the fading strains of the sunset, he was mostly in shadow.
Even in the dimness, he kept his head down, his eyes not meeting hers. A chill sank into her bones. Then a Carolina chickadee hopped out from the bush he’d just been under. It made eye contact with Shelley and images washed through her mind like a rapidly rising river.
Beau, right eye swollen and lip bleeding, ran up the street. He raced past the shrub, past the zoo gate, to stare through the zoo’s chain-link fence, only to run back again. He dropped to his belly and army-crawled under the bush. His hair and shirt snagged on branches as he burrowed farther inside until his whole body was camouflaged. His head dropped to his knees.
A hand jutted through the bushes. Beau’s head snapped up, his eyes dark with fear. Red-tipped fingernails scraped across his face. He turned his head and bit the attacker on the wrist. A fist slammed through the bush, colliding with his left ear, knocking him sideways into the many branches.
The little bird flew out of the bush in a panic and into the face of Mama Margaret. Her eyes as wild as her wiry orange hair, she swatted at the chickadee. It jerked back and circled her head once before taking safety in one of the tall scrub pines dotting the zoo’s entrance. The woman reached for the boy’s legs, which were now sticking out from beneath the bush and yanked. When she couldn’t pull him out, she kicked the soles of his feet twice and stumbled away.
The images blinked out and for an instant Shelley’s mind was a white slate. The world and the chickadee came into focus once more. Caressing the bird on its tan breast, she whispered, “Thank you.”
The bird chirped once and flew up to perch in the scrub pine. Shelley turned to the boy who still hadn’t lifted his head. His shoulders were hunched forward and down, his chin and chest seemed to be one connected body part, and his hands were jammed into his pockets. It was as if he were trying to fold in on himself.
Fury and heartbreak warred inside her, but neither would help Beau. Shelley needed to examine him, get him to a safe place, and make another call to CPS. First, she needed him to talk to her. Just because she knew the old bitch had crossed the line didn’t mean she could make the call, because her only proof came from an avian witness.
“Why was Margaret so angry? Why did she hurt you?”
Beau’s head snapped up and he stared at her with the eye that wasn’t swollen shut. “How did you know?”
“A little birdie told me.” And wasn’t that the truth.
“Someone at the diner told her I came in with money. She wanted to know where I got it. She said I stole it from her purse and demanded I give it back. I told her I got it at the clinic. That you gave it to me. I had to tell her. She kept smacking me, saying I couldn’t steal from her. She said she was going to take away my dumb rat so I won’t have no reason to go back to the clinic. And . . . and I got so mad. I yelled at her. Told her Mr. Fuzzbutt was a guinea pig not a rat, and she was too stupid to know the difference.
“That just made her madder. Said she was going to drown Mr. Fuzzbutt and put him out with the trash. She went into my room and started tearing things up looking for him. When I wouldn’t tell her where he was, she hit me again and again. Said that’s what heathens get for being bad. I’d get a lot worse if I didn’t give her Mr. Fuzzbutt. So I shoved her and ran away.” Tears leaked from beneath the swollen eye and made his open brown one shine like polished stone behind the cracked lens of his glasses. “I know it’s bad and I’m gonna go to juvie now. But I think she would have really killed him. I couldn’t let her. If I get sent away, you’ve gotta keep him, Doc. Don’t let her hurt him.”
“¡Ay Dios mío!”
Shelley and Beau both jumped at the exclamation. Shelley turned to see Tomás running up the sidewalk.
“Beau! Venga aquí.” He shook his head and said in English, “Come here.” Tomás dropped to his knees in front of the child and opened his arms. Beau moved in short, painful steps until he stood in front of Tomás. The man placed gentle hands on his shoulders, examining the boy’s injuries.
Anguish gave way to fury in the man’s dark eyes as he took in each bruise and abrasion. “Mijo, who did this to you?”
“Mama Margaret.” Beau’s words were husky sounds, barely intelligible, but Tomás nodded as if he understood.
“Come inside,” Tomás said, taking Beau by the hand. Tomás glanced at Shelley, “Thank you, Dr. Shelley. I will take him.”
Without another word, Tomás and Beau headed to the employee entrance.
Shelley stood stunned. Tomás’s reaction seemed almost paternal. She knew he and the boy were close, but she’d had no idea how much of a bond they shared. Then the bird’s-eye view of Beau’s run for safety flashed through her mind. He hadn’t been standing near the fence. He’d been near the employee entrance. Searching for Tomás.
“Wait!” Shelley called out, catching up to the pair. Not missing the way Tomás stiffened, she said quickly, “I might be a vet, but I’m still a doctor. I’d like to tend those cuts and make sure he doesn’t have more serious injuries.”
Tomás seemed to wage an internal battle, then gave a curt nod. “Sí.”
Together, they made silent passage up the Tiger Monkey Trail. Around them, the nocturnal creatures chattered, chirped, or sang. She walked a few feet in the expanding twilight before asking Beau softly, “You were trying to get to Tomás, weren’t you?” He nodded. “Why?”
“He loves me,” Beau said simply, allowing Tomás to lift him into his arms. Beau snuggled against Tomás’s chest, while quiet tears tracked down his bruised cheeks.
Shelley followed. Her instincts were to take Beau into her arms. Hold him and comfort him. It was illogical, but deep inside her, the need burned. She didn’t act on it. She doubted that neither man nor child would willingly let go of the other. They seemed to share a bond she could only dream of. Here she’d thought she’d known both so well. Clearly, she didn’t know everything. And until she was certain Beau was safe, she wasn’t letting him out of her sight.
* * *
“KEEP YOUR HEAD down until we get past the cameras,” Tomás said, indicating one of the security cameras affixed above the employee entrance to the zoo’s visitor center.
Shelley lowered her head then realized the stupidity. “My hair is bright red. Everyone in town knows me.”
Tomás yanked a key from the retractable fob on his belt and unlocked the door. “You are right. I was not thinking.”
He moved through the dark hallway with a snuffling Beau in his arms. Tomás didn’t bother to turn on any lights. He clearly knew where he was headed, so Shelley followed them through the converted warehouse.
Tomás pulled out another key and opened a door on his right, this time flipping on the lights. The small office was neat and tidy. A sturdy wooden desk and chair were functional and solid if slightly chipped and showing age. The windowless space had probably once been a utility closet, but it appeared to serve Tomás’s purposes. The walls of the office were covered with paintings of desert sunrises, giving the space a warm, welcoming feeling. A brightly colored braided rug covered the floor. On it lay dozens of Lego creations, crayons, coloring books, and a very familiar-looking backpack.
Shelley and Tomás worked together silently cleaning Beau’s cuts and icing down his bruises. When the child yawned and blinked his good eye sleepily, Tomás pulled out a sleeping bag and tucked Beau in for bed. To a passerby, it looked as if Tomás had a room full of toys and stuffed animals shoved into one corner. The child was all but invisible.
Tomás whispered something to the boy in Spanish and kissed him gently on the top of his head before gesturing for Shelley to follow him back into the hallway. She couldn’t go without making sure for herself that Beau was okay with being left alone.
“Beau, are you going to be all right for a few minutes? Tomás wants to speak with me in the hallway. If you’d rather I didn’t leave you, I won’t. I can stay right here with you, or you can come home with me.” She reached out a hand and stroked his beautiful black hair.
“I’m safe here,” Beau replied. He didn’t smile, but his tone suggested confidence. He yawned again, then his eyes slipped closed. He mumbled, “As long as I’m with him, no one will hit me.”
Shelley’s heart broke. Her eyes stung as she replied, “And no one will hit you if you’re with me.”
“I know.” Beau’s bruised mouth curled slightly at the corners before relaxing into sleep.
Shelley stepped into the hall and Tomás closed the door behind her, unlocking another door across the hall. Again he flipped on the light. This time they stepped into a closet. A clipboard with a pen tied to it hung on one wall. Brooms, mops, buckets, and cleaners were jammed into every corner of the space. There was barely enough space for one person to stand, but Tomás squeezed in next to her. His brown eyes had the look of a haunted man.
“He’s your son, isn’t he?” She tried not to feel hurt when Tomás nodded slowly. Tried and most definitely didn’t succeed. “All this time. We’ve been friends all this time. We worked together every week for hours and hours, sometimes pulling all-nighters here. I trusted you with my private notes on the animals when you said the zoo’s files had begun disappearing. You trusted me with snakes and tigers but not enough to tell me Beau is your son. Why?” Then anger burned. “And how could you leave him with that bitch?”
“Do you think I want him with her?” Tomás snapped, his dark eyes full of fury. “He is not mine legally. I have petitioned to adopt him, but the courts are slow. Especially to a single man who only just became a U.S. citizen last year.”
Tomás scrubbed a hand down his face; weariness replaced the anger. “Beau is the son of my love, Claire. He is all that I have left of her. She died when he was three. I went to see her when she lay dying, and she told me that he was mine. Made me promise to raise him. But her parents hated me and him. They blamed us both for her death. Claire’s heart was always weak. Childbirth made her sicker.
“When I tried to take him after she died, her parents refused to give him to me. I don’t know why Claire hadn’t listed me as the father on his birth certificate. Without it, I could not claim my son. When they gave Beau away, I could do nothing. I was not a citizen. I could not foster him. But I did follow him to Elkridge. I became the zoo manager to be near him. I got my GED and I became a U.S. citizen for him.”
Realization dawned, and tension drained from her shoulders. “You changed your life to be with him.”
“Sí, yes.” He smiled. Hope glimmered in his eyes. “I find out next week if my petition has been accepted.”
“Does Beau know you’re his father? That you want to adopt him?” When Tomás nodded, Shelley echoed the head movement. “That’s why he ran to you when Margaret attacked him?”
“Margaret,” he spat on the floor, “that punta will pay for what she did to my boy.” Tomás’s eyes widened. “Lo siento. I am sorry for my language.”
“No, I think you’ve got her description about right.” Shelley waved away his apology, then it struck her. “You’re the reason why he won’t allow Social Services to remove him from her house. He’s waiting for you.”
It wasn’t a question, but Tomás answered anyway. “Sí, yes. He knows I’m trying to adopt him.”
“But can’t you prove paternity by taking a test? You shouldn’t have to adopt your own child.”
He stared at her as if dumbstruck. His mouth moved, but no sound came out for several seconds. Finally he said, “I could take a test?”
Her heart broke for this man. The same man who’d all but fed her to the proverbial lions earlier today. “It’s not a quick turnaround like you see in the movies. It usually takes six to eight weeks to get the results.”
Tomás shook his head. “The petition is being decided next week. I wish I had known about this test months ago.”
“I wish you would have told me. I could have helped you.”
Tomás straightened his shoulders, steel in his spine. “I thought you knew. He talks about you all the time. Why did you never ask him about his parents?”
Guilt pinched at her. She had kept Beau at arm’s length, hoping to avoid getting too close to someone who would likely leave her too. And in the end, he’d wormed his way into her heart. “I should have asked. You’re right. I’m sorry. But you could have trusted me too.”
