Читать книгу How To Steal The Lawman's Heart - Kathy Douglass - Страница 12

Chapter Five

“I’m not going.” Alyssa said, folding her arms over her chest. Still dressed in her pajamas, she walked around the peach-and-cream-striped chair that had been Anna’s favorite and sat on the coffee table. She glared at him defiantly, daring him to correct her.

Trent bit his tongue. He’d told Alyssa numerous times to sit on the sofa or chairs, or even the floor, but not the table. But he didn’t have time for yet another lecture that would do little to change her behavior. What ever happened to the sweet little girl who used to get up early just to have breakfast with him?

Deciding patience was in order, Trent inhaled deeply and slowly blew out a breath. “You can’t stay home alone all day.”

“Why not? I’m not a baby.”

He recognized that trick: go on the offense and make him defend his actions. Not today. “I didn’t say you were.”

“I’m fourteen.”

“I know.”

“So why can’t I stay home?”

He rubbed a hand over his freshly shaved chin. “Because I would prefer it if you didn’t. And I don’t understand why you want to stay home. You always have fun at the youth center. All of your friends will be there.”

Alyssa stood and jammed her hands on her hips. “I don’t have any friends, thanks to you.”

She stomped from the room, but he caught her arm as she reached the stairs. “What do you mean, you don’t have friends? Everybody likes you.”

Alyssa’s quiet and serious personality may not have made her the most popular kid, but her loyalty had earned her several true friends. She got along well with most of the other girls even if they weren’t especially close.

Alyssa had inherited her mother’s stunning good looks, as well as her willowy, long-legged build. Where she’d been gangly as a colt at twelve and even thirteen, she’d filled out over the past few months and now looked older than her age. To his dismay and definite discomfort, she was attracting the interest of boys who until recently hadn’t known she was alive.

“Everybody used to like me. But that was before.”

“Before what?”

She narrowed her eyes and shook off his hand. “Before you went and broke up that party at Olivia’s aunt and uncle’s house. You called everybody’s parents and got them in trouble. You even arrested Olivia’s cousin.”

“There was underage drinking. I couldn’t leave those kids there. And I definitely couldn’t let them drive home. I had to call their parents.” Alyssa didn’t know the specifics, but she knew her mother had been killed by a drunken teenager. Surely she understood the danger of underage drinking and driving.

“As for Olivia’s cousin, he was supplying alcohol to minors.” He was twenty-one and, from what Trent could see, had no plan for his life besides partying. He and his buddies had given several teenage girls enough alcohol to lower their inhibitions. God alone knew what could have happened to them if Trent hadn’t received an anonymous call about that party. The kids might have been angry, but there were plenty of grateful parents.

“Well, now they’re all mad at me.”

“Why?”

She gave him her patented you’re-so-stupid look that turned his stomach. “Because you’re my dad. They think I’m the one who told you about the party. Like I’m some sort of narc. They said if anybody is my friend or even talks to me, then they’re out. Nobody will talk to them, either, and they won’t get invited to any of the cool parties.”

Anger surged through Trent and he clenched his jaw to keep from swearing. Olivia’s aunt and uncle were among the wealthy residents who’d recently moved into a new development of oversize homes on a private golf course. Many of the newcomers didn’t believe the laws applied to them or their brats. If Trent could have his way, the entire subdivision would be razed and the owners sent back where they came from.

“How long has this been going on?”

Tears began to roll down Alyssa’s face, and it broke Trent’s heart. Her chin wobbled and her voice shook. “It started last week. Brooke still talked to me, but none of the other kids did. They wouldn’t even sit at the same lunch table with me. But school’s out now and Brooke’s spending the summer in Colorado with her father.”

“It’ll get better. You’ll see. Now go ahead and get dressed.” He tried to pull her into a hug, but she jerked away.

“You’re making me go? Even after what I told you? You don’t care about me or how I feel.” Her words, filled with both accusation and betrayal, were a knife plunged in his heart.

“Of course I care. But you can’t hide. You did nothing wrong. And your friends will come around. Just give them a chance.”

“They had a chance. They’re not my friends anymore. They hate me. And I hate you.” The knife twisted.

Trent stood frozen as Alyssa raced up the stairs. A moment later he heard her bedroom door slam. He leaned against the banister and sucked in a breath. Although he knew Alyssa’s words were spoken out of pain, they still hurt. He’d never imagined a child of his would say she hated him.

The argument echoing in his head, Trent returned to the living room. He opened the floral curtains Anna had chosen so many years ago, letting in the morning sunlight. Unfortunately, the light did nothing to brighten the gloom in his soul.

He dropped onto the sofa and closed his eyes. His sweet girl was being ostracized. Those brats should be glad he and his officers broke up the party, saving them from themselves. They might be too young to understand the danger they’d put themselves in, but they were old enough to know better than to make his daughter a scapegoat.

He heard the clatter of little feet running down the stairs and into the living room.

“I’m ready to go,” Robyn announced, flying into the room. Her brilliant smile warmed his heart and made breathing easier. “How do I look?”

He smothered a grin. His baby loved fashionable clothes. She looked adorable in white denim shorts with pink flowered appliqué on the pockets and a matching T-shirt. Even her gym shoes were pink. Alyssa had combed her hair and added flowered pink barrettes to her ponytails. Pink earrings completed her ensemble. “You look like the cover of a magazine.”

Robyn grinned and gave him a big hug.

Five minutes later Alyssa returned, dressed in a short denim skirt and orange tank top. Although he wished she had chosen something different, he bit his tongue. Fighting over her clothes only increased the tension between them.

Robyn chattered happily on the short drive to the center, filling the silence between Alyssa and Trent. As he pulled into a parking spot, he received a call from the dispatcher. Trent spoke briefly into his radio before hustling the girls from the car.

A semitrailer had collided with an SUV on the highway leading into town, setting off a chain reaction involving at least seven vehicles. He didn’t know what the truck was carrying, but the driver had lost his load. Worse, there were reports of injuries, some life-threatening.

“I have an emergency, so I won’t be able to get you girls settled,” Trent said apologetically as he signed them in. The gray-haired woman seated behind the reception desk assured him she would get his daughters into their proper groups.

“I’ll pick you up at four,” Trent promised. He kissed Robyn’s cheek, then stepped back. He’d learned from painful experience not to show affection to Alyssa in public.

“Bye, Daddy,” Robyn exclaimed, then hurried off to join a group of girls her age.

Alyssa simply stood with her eyes downcast, her arms across her chest. She heaved a sigh and turned her back to him. He wished he could say something to make her feel better, but nothing came to mind. Besides, he needed to get to the scene of the accident.

The grandmotherly woman caught his eye and nodded. “Go ahead and leave, Chief. She’ll be fine. I’ll make sure she gets in with a group of kids.”

Having no choice, Trent took one last look at Alyssa, who was now staring out the window, and trotted out the door to his vehicle. He hoped he was right and that her friends would welcome her again.

* * *

Carmen put the finishing touches on her art project, then stepped back to get a final look at it. Not bad considering she hadn’t sculpted anything in years. She hadn’t known what type of material she would find, so she’d planned a variety of projects to interest kids of all ages. She’d been pleasantly surprised by the supplies at the center.

As expected, there was paint, brushes and paper. But there also was clay, string, foil, beads and other items needed to make jewelry.

She heard a knock on the open door. “You open for business?”

Carmen smiled at Joni and looked down at the little girls clustered around her. “You bet. Come on in.”

“I’ve got four budding artists for you. Mia and Maya are twins. This is Juliet. And finally Robyn. They’re really excited to do crafts with you.”

Carmen managed to hide her shock at seeing the chief’s daughter again so soon. Given his dislike of Carmen, she couldn’t imagine he would want her near his child. She wondered how long it would be before news of her volunteering at the center reached his ears. This being Sweet Briar, she bet it would be under forty-eight hours.

“I remember you. We saw you at the cemetery. I’m Robyn.”

“I remember you, too. You look so cute today.” The young girl giggled and preened while Carmen quickly complimented the other girls so they wouldn’t feel left out. And they did look adorable in their short sets and eager smiles. “Are you ready to have fun?”

“Yes,” they answered loudly.

“Well, then, let’s get started.” After each girl had chosen a bright smock from the rainbow selection hanging on hooks by the door, she led them to a table where supplies were arranged. She grabbed a hunk of clay and kneaded it while explaining the project. She then stepped back as the girls charged toward the table. Well, three of the girls charged. Robyn held back.

“Is everything okay?”

Robyn shook her head. “I’ve never done this before. I don’t know how.”

“That’s okay,” Carmen said, giving an encouraging smile. “Just jump right in. Art is supposed to be fun.”

Robyn gnawed on her bottom lip. “What if I do it wrong?”

“Oh, sweetie, it’s art. There is no right or wrong.”

“Everything has a right or wrong. The only people who don’t believe that are the ones doing wrong.”

Wow. Carmen was surprised to hear such judgmental words coming out of the mouth of one so young and innocent. She had no doubt Robyn was parroting what she heard regularly, just as she’d done at the cemetery. “That may be true in some things, but trust me, there is no way for you to get this art project wrong. Whatever you do will be beautiful.”

“What if I mess it up?”

Carmen had not expected to have to counsel kids. If she’d known it would be this hard to get a kid to use clay, string and paint, she might have taken her chances with the boys currently engaged in a raucous game of basketball. But she needed to reach this child. She’d grown up with pressure to live up to the Shields name and had cracked big-time. If she could help this girl avoid the same fate, it might be worth what she’d endured.

She knelt down so that she and Robyn were eye to eye and took the little girl’s hands. “If you mess it up, we can fix it. That’s the beautiful thing about art. You can work around the mistakes so that they look intentional.”

“I don’t know.” The little girl looked longingly at the table where her friends were elbow-deep in clay. Someone had knocked over a plastic cup of yellow paint, and a saturated paper towel lay forgotten in the middle of the puddle. Apparently, Robyn’s friends didn’t share her fear of making mistakes. And they definitely had no interest in cleaning up their messes.

“Well, I do. Let’s get you started on your flower.” Carmen pinched off a bit of clay and handed it to Robyn, giving the girl an encouraging smile. She then grabbed a hunk of clay for herself and began working it. After a brief hesitation, Robyn grabbed her clay and started to pound it into shape.

“Like this?” she asked, her little hands kneading the clay.

“Just like that.” Carmen offered the child a rolling pin. “Make it flat. It’ll be easier for you to shape.”

Robyn’s brow wrinkled in concentration as she worked. A few minutes later she grinned. “It’s working.”

“Yes, it is.”

“This is fun,” she said, giggling.

“I knew you could do it.”

Carmen circled the room, checking the progress of the other budding artists and helping newcomers get started. She gave a word of encouragement here and there, but for the most part, she stood back and let the kids create their masterpieces without interfering. The noise level stayed at a steady murmur punctuated by bursts of laughter. Although Carmen chatted with the other children, her attention never strayed far from Robyn.

The kids’ enthusiasm was contagious and ideas began bubbling inside her. Most of the kids in her room were grammar school age. But she really wanted to attract the older crowd. And she had just the thing to do so.

Joni had given her what she’d called the ten-cent tour that morning. The center was equipped with everything from a computer lab to a gym with a full-size basketball court, and a six-lane pool. Although all the walls were clean and painted bright colors, the decor was unimaginative.

Carmen had offered to design a mural for each of the rooms and one big one for the exterior of the building. Joni had quickly accepted. Carmen would have a better chance of getting older teens involved in art if they worked on something more exciting than the Popsicle sticks and spray-painted macaroni the six-year-olds loved. Murals would definitely do the trick.

She made her way back to Robyn, who was frowning at her project. The little girl noticed Carmen and her bottom lip trembled. She swiped at her eyes. “I messed it up. It’s ruined.”

“It’s not ruined. We can fix it. And if not, you can make another one.”

“I don’t know. Daddy always says to do it right the first time because life doesn’t give you a do-over.”

“That’s true in a lot of things, but not art.”

“Are you sure? Because that’s not what Daddy says and my daddy is smart.”

“I’m positive. I’m sure your daddy wasn’t talking about art. He’s not an artist, too, is he?”

Robyn shook her head. “He’s a policeman.”

“Right. So he probably doesn’t use paint and clay at work.”

Robyn giggled. “That would be silly.”

“It certainly would. Policemen know about criminals breaking the law and looking for excuses to escape punishment.”

Robyn nodded. “I heard him tell Officer Roberts that Peter Richards keeps making messes for his parents to clean up. Daddy said one day Peter’s going to make a mess no one can fix. He said Peter’s parents should stop making excuses for him. Daddy said Peter—”

Carmen raised her hand and the little girl stopped her recitation of overheard and misunderstood conversation. “I think your daddy was talking about criminals and not art. And he certainly didn’t mean you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay.” Robyn smiled, her eyes bright with hope.

Carmen took the blob of paint and string and clay from the little girl and turned it this way and that, studying it from all angles. Try as she might, she couldn’t figure out what it was supposed to be. It didn’t look a thing like her sample. Of course, she couldn’t admit that or Robyn would be crushed.

“I think we can totally make this work. If you’re willing.”

Robyn nodded.

“Then let’s get busy.”

Twenty minutes later, Robyn stared at her project with what could be described only as awed disbelief. “Did I really make that?”

“You did. All by yourself.” If Robyn hadn’t been so insecure, Carmen would have trashed the first project and started from scratch. Instead, after diagnosing the problem, she had quickly returned the clay to the child’s hands. Although Carmen added instruction and encouragement, she made sure that Robyn did all the work. Now the glow of pride on the child’s face was truly earned.

“I can’t wait to show it to Daddy. He’s going to love it.”

“He will. Now let’s let it dry for a while.”

The little girl started out the door. She hesitated, then ran back, giving Carmen a tight hug. The feel of the little girl’s arms warmed Carmen’s heart. She could start to care for this motherless child quite easily. And wouldn’t that be a mess no amount of paper towels could clean up.