The Only Child. Carolyn McSparren
her arm and walked her to the BMW He held the door and she got in against her better judgment. He climbed in the other side and faced her without turning on the engine. “You’ve worked with abused children, you know the system.”
“So?”
“What’s going to happen if I find Tiffany and Dulcy in Moundhill? Let’s assume that instead of a decent life, they’re living in squalor. Whatever money Tiffany took from her trust fund must have run out long ago and there was no way she could get more. Maybe she paid it all to Youngman. She may be slinging hash or clerking at the grocery store—or worse. She wasn’t only into alcohol, Molly, she was into cocaine. Even Zoe doesn’t know that.”
“Oh, dear.” That changed things. Molly knew from the seminars she’d sat in on for her volunteer work what addiction to cocaine could do to women. They didn’t hesitate to sell their bodies and their children’s bodies when their need for the drug became too much to handle.
“Even Jeremy’s death didn’t stop her drinking or doing drugs,” Logan continued.
“Why did she take Dulcy along? It would have been easier for her to disappear alone.”
“Maybe she loves Dulcy the way a child loves a favorite toy. Maybe she took Dulcy to punish us, Zoe and Sydney and me.” He ran his hand down his face. “I don’t know anymore. Not after today.”
“I still don’t see how I can help. If you find Dulcy, surely they’ll give her to you.”
“Say I waltz in to the local police station with my order of custody executed before Sydney died. They’ll pick up Tiffany for extradition. Youngman was right. Tiffany may well tell them I’m a pedophile and after the child’s money. In today’s climate, they may believe her. Dulcy could wind up in foster care.”
“But I’m not a lawyer or a psychologist. I make dolls, period. And I’ve known you less than twenty-four hours during which you have acted about as stable as plutonium.”
“Touché. You, however, have ‘mother’ written across your forehead in letters the size of a marquee.”
“Oh, thank you so much. Just what every woman wants to hear.”
“Even though I’ve known you such a short time, I would trust you with my life, and what’s more, with my granddaughter’s life. Besides, you can identify her. I haven’t seen her since before she was two. You’ve got to come with me. And without letting anyone know where you’re going or why.”
“IT’S BEEN NEARLY eight hours since I left you. I need you to tell me you’ll go with me to Kansas so that I can make reservations.” Logan was breathing hard. He cradled the phone against his shoulder and ran the towel over his sweating face and chest.
“I only said I’d think it over,” Molly said over the line. “I didn’t agree to anything.”
“Look, let me come out to your house right now. We can talk about it all night if that’s what it takes to persuade you.”
“No.” She sat down on her bed. “I’m practically ready for bed.”
“So much the better.” He chuckled.
She tried to chuckle back, but to her ears, it sounded as if she’d just choked on a peach pit.
“All right, how about I take you to breakfast?” he offered. “I’ve already got a call in to my travel agent. It’s not that easy to get to Moundhill by plane. We’ll have to fly into Wichita and rent a car.”
“Logan, talk sense. I have animals to feed, a halfdozen commissions that I’m behind on, Quentin Dillahunt’s evil little head hardening in my refrigerator, and I am terrified of airplanes. Isn’t there somebody else you can take?”
“Nobody else has laid eyes on Dulcy. Sleep on it, please. I’ll see you at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.” He sighed. “Please come with me. In just two days you have become more important to me than you can possibly imagine. I need you. Don’t desert me now.”
Molly sat on her bed and listened to the dial tone. She’d lied to Logan. She wasn’t ready for bed. She still wore her jeans, though her feet were bare. She wandered into the kitchen. Elvis, ever-vigilant for a handout, trotted after her with his tail in the air. She opened the refrigerator, found a diet cola, and on impulse pulled out the meat drawer.
She’d give Logan breakfast here. He probably ate healthy junk, but if she did decide to go with him, she needed to finish the country ham before she left. She checked the freezer. Biscuits. There were always plenty of eggs. One overdose of cholesterol was unlikely to do irreparable harm to their arteries, and country ham beat bran flakes any day of the week.
Not that he needed the extra energy. He’d become a different person since he’d found a direction, a focus, something to do. He’d turned into a cross between a dynamo and one of his blasted bulldozers. At the moment, she felt like a very small sapling standing directly in his path. He was going to mow her down any minute. He was obviously used to calling all the shots and making all the decisions. If this was the way he treated Zoe, no wonder they had problems.
She knew darned well all his sexy innuendos were nothing but cheerful banter, but they really affected her. She shook herself and reached for Elvis. He eluded her and scampered down the hall. “Fickle cat!” she snapped.
She called Sherry and poured out the whole story to her. “And the worst of it is, he refuses even to discuss the possibility with Zoe and Rick that Dulcy is alive,” Molly said. “He treats her like a child.”
“He’s being an overprotective daddy,” Sherry said. “And, he’s never really gotten to know Rick. Do you know a plumber who doesn’t work twelve hours a day, six days a week? And Logan still goes gallivanting off for months at a stretch. Their orbits don’t match.” Sherry paused for a moment before going on, “Neither do their views of the world. I think Zoe may keep her two men apart a bit as well without realizing it. She demands Rick’s complete loyalty. I don’t think she’d be too happy if Rick and Logan suddenly started going fishing together.”
“Maybe they should. Rick is the dearest, sweetest, most sensible man I know.”
Sherry laughed. “He also has a scruffy beard and wears jeans to work. When Logan’s home, he prefers three-piece suits and red power ties. Besides, Rick became the most important person in Zoe’s life just when Logan wanted to become a full-time father to her. Bad timing.”
Molly snorted. “I refuse to get involved in any more dysfunctional families. It’s taken me years to get over my own.” She hesitated. “On the other hand, Logan may act like a field marshal, but he’s so damned sad. I hate to abandon him.”
Sherry laughed. “That’s my Molly—half of you wants to hide in your cave and make dolls, the other half keeps turning into Joan of Arc.”
“And look what happened to her.”
WHILE SHE WANTED for Logan to show up for breakfast, Molly called her daughter. “Anne, I’m going out of town,” Molly said. “I’ll have to renege on Elizabeth’s sleep-over Friday. Can the two of you look after the animals for a few days?”
“Where are you going? Why? How long?” Anne asked. Then she caught her breath. “Mother, are you involved with that gray fox?”
Molly heard the verbal quotation marks around that word involved. “Even if I were, and I’m not, I’m a grown woman. I’m sorry, Anne, I can’t tell you any more. I promise I’ll keep in touch.”
Anne sighed. “Mom, you know we’ll look after the animals. It’s time Elizabeth started getting Maxie ready for the Thanksgiving horse show anyway. I’ll even make Phil take off on Saturday afternoon