Barbara Freethy - Some Kind Of Wonderful (23 page)
Matt pulled up in front of Laree's Hair Salon in downtown Sacramento
and shut off the engine. The
salon was in a strip mall next to a thrift
store and a doughnut shop. He had no idea what Sarah had been doing in
Sacramento, which was an hour and a half's drive from San Francisco,
but he had a pay stub to prove she'd been there sometime in the last
year. It was the best lead he had, and he hoped it would be worth the
drive.
Matt glanced at Emily, who was entertaining herself by blowing drooling
bubbles out of her mouth. He took the edge of his sleeve and wiped her
chin.
She tried to push his hand away with her tiny fingers, but he simply
smiled. "I know you think you're
the boss, but I am. And Caitlyn says
you'll get a rash on your chin if it's always wet. I don't know how she
knows that, but I believe her. She's smart, you know. Not to mention
beautiful. Sexy." His body tightened at the memory of the night before.
"Pretty damn wonderful, in fact."
Emily blew him another bubble, and he smiled. He had never thought he
was a sucker for kids, but this child got to him, probably one reason
why he hadn't been able to leave her with a baby-sitter. How
could he
trust her with someone he didn't know? He couldn't, so he'd told David
he needed a few more days off work and decided he might as well
drive to Sacramento. At least he was doing something
instead of just
sitting around. And Emily had enjoyed the ride.
He took her out of her car seat and automatically checked her bottom
for any wetness. It was amazing how things he'd never anticipated doing
last week had become habit to him, like checking for a soppy diaper.
Fortunately, she was dry. So he got out of the car with Emily in his
arms and walked up the
path to the salon.
There were five women in the salon: two stylists, a receptionist and
two customers. All five turned to
look at him the minute the door
clanged. He cleared his throat, feeling uncomfortable in the definitely
female environment.
"Would you like a cut?" the woman behind the desk asked.
"Actually, I'm looking for someone named Laree."
"Hey, Laree," she called to the stylist who had just taken her customer
to the back room of hair dryers. "He wants you"
Laree, a tired-looking brunette with a blond streak through one side of
her hair, came forward with a towel in her hands and a wary expression
in her eyes.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
"I'm hoping you can. I'm Sarah Vaughn's brother. Do you remember Sarah?"
Laree didn't even blink. "Sure, I remember Sarah. Why?"
"I'm looking for her."
"She's not here.''
"Do you know where she might be?"
"No."
Matt forced himself to be patient. Laree looked like she was hiding
something; he just had to figure out what it was. But he
needed something to barter with—make that someone. "This is Sarah's
baby, Emily," he said. It was a gamble to share the information, but he
took it anyway.
Laree's whole face changed. "This is Sarah's baby?" She stepped
forward. "She's darling." A frown settled across her features. "Why do
you have her?"
"Because Sarah left her with me. She wanted Emily to be safe. But now I
want to make sure that Sarah
is safe. To do that I have to find her.
And I know that she worked here about six months ago."
"She worked here," Laree admitted. "But she left without any notice. I
figured Gary's band got a new gig somewhere. I didn't like the guy, but
Sarah wouldn't leave him, especially not after she got pregnant."
"Did you ever see him hurt her?"
"Not physically, but he had a nasty tongue. Sarah just took whatever he
said like she thought she deserved it. I hope she's okay, but I don't
know where she is."
"Do you remember exactly when she left? It might help me to pinpoint
some dates."
Laree thought about his question, then nodded. "It was mid-February,
right after Valentine's Day. I remember because it was the day the fire
truck blocked our driveway, and Sarah had to meet Gary
down the street
because he couldn't get his car in the parking lot. That's the last I
saw of her."
Matt's mouth went dry. Another fire? It had to be a coincidence. But
then he remembered Sarah's fascination with candles and matches, and
goose bumps ran down his arm. "Where was the fire?"
"In the doughnut shop next door."
Of course, that was easy to explain, donuts, ovens, fire.
Matt tried to shrug off the uneasy feeling that continued to cling to
him. "Do you know how it started?"
"I think someone threw a lighted cigarette into the trash. Why?"
"No reason. So that's the last you saw of Sarah. She didn't quit or
tell you where she was going?"
"Just disappeared. Her baby sure is pretty," Laree said. "I hope Sarah
comes back soon."
"So do I." Matt walked outside, stopping to take a look at the doughnut
shop next door. It looked freshly painted, all evidence of a fire
completely erased, just the way it had been erased at the old apartment
building, like it had never happened. But Matt couldn't erase the fire
from his memories. And he wondered how Sarah must have felt to see
flames coming out of the building next door. Had she panicked? Had she
run? Had she been responsible?
A part of him wanted to believe in his sister, in the good things he
remembered about her. Another part
of him was telling him to face the
facts: Sarah was just like his mother, a loser. She'd run out on her
baby. And she probably wasn't coming back. And even if she did come
back, how long would it take before she ran again? What kind of a life
could she give Emily?
His arms tightened around the small baby in his arms. He had to protect
her. But protect her from her mother? Could he really do that? He
hadn't been able to protect Sarah from her own mother. And look how
that had turned out.
Matt opened the car door and settled Emily in her car seat. By the time
he'd slid behind the wheel,
Emily was starting to whimper for the
bottle he'd packed earlier. He pulled it out of the diaper bag and
popped it in her mouth. Fortunately, she wasn't particularly fussy
about whether or not it was warm.
With one hand propping up her bottle, Matt opened
his cell phone and dialed information for Caitlyn's phone number. He
knew he shouldn't be calling her at work or anywhere else. But when the
number came up, he had the operator dial it for him. A second later he
heard Caitlyn say, "Devereaux's."
"It's me," he said.
"Hi me."
Her voice dropped down a notch, reminding him of the husky way she'd
talked to him last night, telling him how good he felt, how good she
felt. He swallowed, trying to remember why he'd called her.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"I'm fine. I'm in Sacramento. I found the hair salon where Sarah used
to work."
"Did they give you any more information?"
"Not really." He hesitated, not sure why he felt compelled to confide
in her. He'd carried stories of huge ramifications in his head for
days, weeks, months without needing to share. "There was a fire next
door
to the shop," he blurted out. "The day Sarah left. She never came
back."
"What kind of a fire?" Caitlyn asked quietly.
"It was in a doughnut shop. It had nothing to do with Sarah."
"Of course not. A kitchen fire could happen anywhere, Matt."
"Yeah. I think I just wanted you to tell me that. I want to believe in
her, Caitlyn. I want to believe in the sweet little girl whose image I
carry around in my head."
"You should. Innocent until proven guilty, remember?"
"I'm trying. I just don't like the way the puzzle pieces are coming
together. The way people talk about Sarah, it makes me remember how
they used to talk about my mother."
"Sarah isn't your mother."
"Maybe she is." He hated to say that, hated to even think it, but he
couldn't stop himself.
"Don't say that, Matt. You have to keep the faith, for Emily's sake if
not your own. How is she, by the way?"
"Fine. She's drinking a bottle and kicking her feet in the air. Oh,
great. Now she's dribbling formula
down the side of her neck." He
reached out with his sleeve and tried to wipe it off. Matt could hear
Caitlyn laughing on the other end of the line. "It's not funny," he
told her.
"Yes it is. You are so cute with her." She paused. "I better get back
to work. Jolie is giving me the
evil eye."
"Can I knock on your door later? I might need to borrow a cup of sugar."
"I've got plenty of sugar for you, sugar," she said with a laugh. "
'Bye now."
Matt smiled to himself as he ended the call. He felt better already and
even more determined to find Sarah. With that thought, he punched in a
second number.
"I've got another job for you," he said briskly when Blake answered. "I
want you to see what you can find on Kathleen Vaughn Winters. That's
right, Kathleen, my mother." It felt strange to say the word mother. He
hadn't said it in a long time, hadn't felt the need of a mother or the
love for a mother. But now . . . now he was thinking about her again,
wondering if the answer to Sarah's disappearance could somehow be tied
to his mother.
"You told me you didn't care where your mother was," Blake reminded him.
"I've changed my mind. She's the only other link I have to Sarah. It's
probably a long shot, but see if
you can find anything on her. Oh, and by the way, start checking the
hair
salons in San Francisco.
Sarah used to work as a shampoo girl. She
might be doing that now."
"I'm on it."
Matt closed the phone and turned to Emily. "Ready to go home, kid?"
Emily gave him a sloppy smile. Matt took a moment to pick her up and
burp her, then set her back in the car seat with an efficiency he'd
never dreamed he'd own. Just went to show you could never say never.
eighteen
Caitlyn flung open her apartment door later that afternoon as Matt
came down the hall. "You're finally back. It's about time." She grabbed
his arm, dragging both him and Emily into her apartment. "What
took you
so long? You called me hours ago."
"I stopped at the paper," Matt explained with a quizzical look in his
eye. "Has something happened?"
Caitlyn took the car seat out of his hands, planted a quick kiss on
Emily's cheek, then set the seat on the floor and backed Matt up
against the door. "Yes, something happened." She smiled helplessly at
him.
"I missed you." She pressed her hands against his chest and stood
on tiptoe to kiss him on the lips, a hungry, yearning kiss that
couldn't even begin to tell him how much she'd missed him.
Matt slid his arms around her and pulled her up tightly against him,
devouring her mouth with the demanding intensity she'd come to expect
from him. He wasn't a man to do anything halfway, especially when it
came to kissing a woman.
"Better?" he asked her a few minutes later.
"Slightly," she said breathlessly.
"Give me another chance?"
She'd have given him a dozen if Emily hadn't started to whimper.
Caitlyn looked over her shoulder to
see Emily's mouth puckered up in
dismay. "I think she's jealous."
Matt laughed. "I think she stinks. I didn't want to change her in my
car," Matt said, rescuing Emily from her car seat. He held her out with
a grimace. "You want to take over?"
"And ruin the bonding I see between you two—not on your life." But she
did follow him across the hall
to his apartment and stood by while he
changed Emily. When he was done, he sat back on the couch
and rubbed
his hand over Emily's bare stomach, bringing a coo of delight.
Caitlyn could hardly blame her. The man had magic hands. But that was
another matter. Right now, despite his earlier enthusiastic response to
her kiss, he seemed a bit distracted. "Did you find out something more?"
"Not really."
"You don't sound sure."
He shrugged. "Probably just another coincidence."
"What is another coincidence?"
"When I was at the paper David was following up on a suspected arson
fire in an apartment building in the Tenderloin. A woman was seen
leaving the scene."
Caitlyn frowned. "What are you trying to tell me, Matt? Do you think
Sarah is setting fires all over the city?"
"I didn't want to say that out loud."
"But that's what you think?"
He ran a hand through his hair. "How can I think that? It's crazy. I've
never been one to believe in coincidence."
"Maybe you need more information about the fire to assure yourself that
it has nothing to do with Sarah."
"Maybe," he conceded. He picked Emily up and set her on a blanket on
the floor. Then he got up and walked over to the window. "I hate this,
Caitlyn. I hate not knowing. I hate not having control over
when and if
Sarah comes back for Emily."
"I know." She walked up behind him and slid her arms around his waist,
resting her head on his back
as she held him against her. She wished
she could fix this for him. And the thought startled her. She'd never
been the fixer, just the fixee, yet here she was . . .
"Thanks for not saying everything will be fine. I hate platitudes that
don't mean anything," he said.
"Me, too." And she simply held him tighter, happy that he was letting
her into his life, not just into his bed. She knew she wouldn't be
satisfied with anything less. Although she couldn't tell him that.
Theirs was supposed to be a casual relationship. So why couldn't she
feel casual about him?
Even now their embrace was changing from comforting to caressing, the
air between them tingling with
a sense of anticipation as Matt turned
around, bringing her up hard against his chest.
"I just got a shock off you," he murmured.
"You shouldn't rub your feet on the carpet."
"I didn't get it from my feet but from your breasts. I want to feel
them against my skin without anything between us."
Caitlyn swallowed hard at that piece of information. "It's five o'clock
in the evening."
"So?"
"It's still light out."
"It is," he agreed, holding her slightly away so he could look at her.
"I want to see you in the light, Caitlyn. I want to watch your eyes
when we come together, when you can't take it anymore."
"You're really good at this foreplay stuff."
"I'm not even touching you yet."
"And you don't have to," she whispered. "The way you talk, it makes me
feel like . .."
"Like what?"
"Like taking all my clothes off," she confessed.
"I'll help you."
Her heart leapt against her chest as she wondered if she really had the
nerve to do this. "Uh, Emily,"
she said, suddenly remembering that they
weren't exactly alone.
They turned in unison to look at the baby.
"Asleep," Matt said in triumph, a wicked light coming into his eyes.
"Sometimes, the kid has good timing."
"If we do it again, it won't be a one-night stand," she warned him.
"Have you considered that?"
"I never thought it was a one-night stand," he replied on a more
serious noie. "And neither did you "
There was no humor between them now, only a quiet, purposeful passion.
"All I could think about today was you," Caitlyn said. "It's never been
so fast for me before."
"Hey, wait a second," he said in mock outrage.
She grinned. "I didn't mean that. I meant us, falling into bed
together, and not just making love, but sharing so much of ourselves.
You know more about me than people I've known my whole life."
"And you know more about me. But I think we should stop talking and
start. . ." He finished his words with a kiss that made Caitlyn
understand the expression "swept away." She was caught up in the
texture and taste of his mouth, the
feel of his hands, the beauty of his male strength and hard body
against her softness. He made her feel beautiful, feminine, and
wanted—unconditionally. There were no pretenses, just a naked longing
that was as honest an emotion as she had ever felt. This time she was
the one to
take his hand and lead him into the bedroom.
They made short work of their clothes, stripping each other with smiles
of delight and groans of pleasure as their hands roamed without
restriction.
"You are such a beautiful man," she told him, running her hands along
the muscles of his chest.
"These are beautiful," he replied, cupping her breasts with his hands,
molding the tender globes with his fingers. "And this is a beautiful
mouth." He traced her lips with the tip of his tongue as his hands slid
downways. "And this is a beautiful—"
"Sh-sh," she whispered, taking possession of his mouth. "Make love to
me, Matt." And together they
sank into the soft mattress, their bodies
merging so completely that Caitlyn had a feeling she'd lost
herself
somewhere in him.