Beach Baby. Joan Kilby
these days. His blond hair was graying but his blue eyes were still sharp; his work shirt was worn but his shoulders were still broad. He took a can of beer from the fridge and popped the tab.
Nina rose to greet him with a kiss on his cheek. “Mom was telling me about Amy.”
Leo took a long drink of his beer then pressed the cold can against his sweaty neck. “I’d think twice before you interfere in the girl’s life. She’s not your responsibility.”
“I don’t want to interfere,” Nina said. “She wants to meet me and I’d like to meet her.”
“This isn’t about obligation, Leo,” Dora said. “It’s about connecting with your own flesh and blood.”
“Amy’s upset with the Hockings for lying to her,” Leo said. “How do you know she’s not angry with Nina for giving her up as a baby?”
“You’ve got a point,” Nina conceded. “Amy might feel I abandoned her.” What if Amy rejected her? She didn’t know if she could bear it.
“If Amy was angry she wouldn’t come looking for you, Nina,” Dora countered. “She deserves to know her biological family. Jim and Elaine never should have kept that from her.”
“The Hockings are her real parents,” Leo said. “With Nina the link is only genetic, bits of DNA she has in common with Amy.”
“You don’t mean that,” Dora protested. “Family is family.”
Leo put his arm around Nina’s shoulders and pulled her close. “I just don’t want Nina to get hurt.”
“And I want her to know the joy of having a daughter.” Dora’s face softened into a smile. “And a granddaughter.”
Nina broke free of her father’s embrace and raised her hands to halt the exchange. “Dad, I know you want the best for me but if I can do anything for my daughter at all, even if it’s only to satisfy her curiosity, then I want to make up for the lost years. Mom, do you have her address?”
Dora rose and went to the notepad beside the phone and tore off a slip of paper. “Here it is.”
Nina raised her eyebrows when she saw the street name in the upmarket beachside community where she’d met Reid so many years ago. “Is she renting? How can she afford that area?”
“I, uh, believe she’s staying with a friend of Jim and Elaine’s,” Dora said. Leo choked on his beer.
“Are you all right, Dad?” Nina asked.
“He’s fine.” Dora thumped him on the back and threw him a warning glare.
Nina wondered briefly what that was all about but she didn’t have time to find out. She stuffed the paper into her purse and glanced at her watch. “I’m going to be late for my show.”
“Call me as soon as you’ve made contact.” Dora put her arm around her daughter’s waist and walked her to the door. “I can’t wait to meet them.”
Nina paused on the steps and turned to her mother. “Do you think she’ll like me?”
“Of course she will. Everything’s going to be okay,” Dora said, hugging her. “Call me soon, okay?”
When Nina had gone, Dora went back to the kitchen and sat in front of her chocolate box, pretending to study the guide on the lid.
“As if you don’t know what’s beneath every swirl and squiggle,” Leo said. He straddled a chair and lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Why didn’t you tell Nina that Amy’s staying with Reid Robertson?”
Dora shrugged, averting her gaze. “She didn’t ask.”
“Dora.” Leo shook his head. “That’s as bad as a lie.”
“Oh, Leo.” Dora laid a loving work-roughened hand on his leathery cheek. “Nina will find it hard enough to face her daughter. You know perfectly well she’d never go out there if she knew she might run into Reid.”
CHAPTER TWO
LUKE MANN WAS LYING wounded in an abandoned warehouse next door to the safe house, the envelope undelivered. Reid hadn’t the foggiest notion how the agent was going to get out alive. Ever since Amy and Beebee had arrived a week ago, neither he nor Luke had made much progress.
Reid’s gaze kept drifting from the monitor to the window overlooking the beach and the broad curving bay. The tide had receded a mile or more; children waded in pools between sandbars, and shorebirds with long narrow beaks prodded the sand for worms and mud shrimp.
Beebee’s strawberry curls popped up from behind a log. The little girl’s chubby limbs beneath her pink sundress were bare and already turning brown after a week in the sun. She toddled a few steps before crouching to pick up a shell embedded in the coarse gray sand.
Reid smiled when she sat down abruptly to examine her treasure. Beebee was adorable—until she was frightened or thwarted, then look out. The kid had a pair of lungs an opera diva would envy.
A moment later Reid was frowning, scanning the beach. Where the heck was Amy? It wouldn’t be the first time Beebee had gotten out of the house and wandered off by herself. Keeping a watchful eye on the little girl, Reid moved to the side window from where he could see another angle of the beach. Still no sign of Amy.
Beebee stood and continued her meandering progress down the sandy beach. Muttering under his breath, Reid thrust his bare feet into sandals and went through the family room and out the open French doors to cross the lawn. As he dropped over the retaining wall onto the sand, Daisy overtook him and galloped ahead.
Reid caught up to the toddler in a few strides. “Beebee!”
A sunny smile lit her round face. “Weed!”
Dropping to a crouch, Reid nudged Daisy and her slurping tongue aside and brushed off the grains of sand stuck to Beebee’s cheek. “Where’s Mommy?”
“Me find shell,” Beebee said happily, thrusting the broken cockle under his nose.
“Very nice,” he said. “Let’s go show your mom.” Getting to his feet, he took her hand and started leading her back to the house.
Beebee followed, chatting away. He lifted her over the low concrete wall and carried her through the house, calling to Amy. He came to the ground-floor bedroom she shared with Beebee and pushed open the door. Amy was pacing between the crib and the bed, speaking to someone on the telephone.
“So I have an appointment this morning?” she said, her eyes alight with excitement. “Cool! Thanks again.” Amy hung up and turned to Reid.
“Look who I found wandering down the beach,” he said.
“Beebee, you naughty girl,” Amy scolded gently and tried to take her daughter.
“Me find shell,” Beebee informed her, showing no inclination to leave Reid’s arms.
Reid readjusted his hold on the sun-warmed little girl and she snuggled into his side. “I’ll put a hook on the French doors,” he told Amy. “In the meantime, you should keep a better eye on Beebee. She could have been lost or drowned.”
“I put her in her playpen in the living room. She must have climbed out.” Amy twined one long golden lock around her finger. “Can you do me a big favor?”
“Maybe,” Reid said warily, thinking he could guess what was coming after overhearing her phone conversation.
“Can you look after Beebee for a couple of hours?” Amy asked. “I have a job interview.”
“How long will you be?” His publisher’s deadline was looming and he was way behind on his weekly page quota.
“A couple of hours, three at most,” Amy said. “Please, Reid, just this once. An L.A. production company is filming a movie