Saving Madeline Page 10

  “No. I did tell her after I did it, though. She agrees with me. She’s already lost too—” He broke off. That was none of Caitlin McLoughlin’s business.

  “Okay, Mr. Hathaway, I’ll go have a chat with the detective. I’ll be right back.”

  “Call me Parker.”

  She gave him a slow smile that made his stomach feel warm, completely shattering his former coolness toward her. What would those lips taste like? How would the softness of her feel if he gathered her into his arms? Stop. He had to keep his mind on his daughter. His social life had been neglected far too long to allow the desire for one to start weighing in on matters now.

  “Okay,” she said. “Parker it is. And you can call me Caitlin.” He felt happy at the invitation, though he sensed she made the offer more in the hope of evoking trust than from a desire to be familiar. “Is there anything I can get you to make you more comfortable?” she added.

  A bath and a week of sleep, he thought. He shook his head. “No, thanks. No one can give me what I need.”

  She regarded him silently for several seconds before nodding. “Maybe not yet. But sometimes we’re forced to choose between the lesser of two evils.”

  “That’s just it,” he said. “I don’t know which that is.”

  • • •

  Caitlin left the room feeling shaken. When she had first caught sight of the unshaven man, she had classified him immediately as one more low-life scum who was nothing but a drain on the system. A father using his child for attention—or worse. Yet when she’d looked deeper, when she stared into his honest brown eyes and saw the concern etched on the sharp angles of his jaw, all her instincts told her Sally was right about him. There was an earnestness in Parker Hathaway that called to her sense of justice. He was a desperate man, that much was true, but he believed with his whole heart that he was acting in the best interests of his daughter.

  She could do a lot with such a defense, especially if she could prove even part of his accusations against his ex-wife. Drugs were a hot topic these days, and far too many children had become innocent victims. Many of the judges were cracking down on convictions. Parker would be put on probation and likely have only supervised visits with Madeline for the foreseeable future, but she might be able to spare him jail time. Well, that is if she cleaned him up and if his record wasn’t too spotty. For all she knew there was more on him that Sally hadn’t yet dug up. The prosecutor wouldn’t leave anything out. Of course, everything would hinge on whether or not they actually found Madeline safe and sound. If Madeline turned up dead, jail time would be a given.

  “Well?” Sally had been down the hall but was already halfway to Caitlin’s side.

  “First, I want to know something. How late is he on child support?”

  “As far as I can tell, he’s never missed a payment. The guy’s been a saint for the past few years, but I found out he did quit his job last Saturday. I think he was getting ready to run.”

  “He should have run from the beginning.”

  Sally smirked. “Is that your advice as an attorney?”

  Caitlin ignored the comment. “I think he’ll tell you what you want to know, but he would like to see that the baby-sitter and his mother stay out of it. No legal repercussions.”

  “That depends. Are they accomplices or bystanders?”

  “Well, provided the baby-sitter hasn’t kidnapped the child a second time”—Caitlin gave her a wry glance—“she doesn’t even know Madeline was kidnapped. As for Hathaway’s mother, she had no foreknowledge and wasn’t involved in anything that may have allegedly happened.” Caitlin stopped. “We’ll need to get the DA involved if we’re going to be able to guarantee their immunity, and that means you’ll have to charge my client.”

  “I’ll start on the paperwork and get someone over from the DA’s office.”

  “Thanks.”

  As Sally hurried down the hallway, Caitlin went back inside the room where Parker waited. “It’s all in motion,” she announced. “I’ll have to talk to the DA and make sure they won’t involve your mother, but for now, let’s talk about what you do know, so I can advise you on exactly what to say.”

  “I have Carla’s name and number memorized, and I know where she lives, more or less, since I went there to meet her a few weeks ago.” He frowned. “Look, do you think they’d let me go with them? I don’t want Madeline to be scared when she sees the police.”

  Caitlin felt an unexpected tenderness toward him at the request. “I’ll ask.” But she was sure he would be denied if

  the police had Carla’s number and could trace it. So now was the time to make the decision—was she really going to fight for his rights? Or just do the minimum?

  He smiled at her, a small smile but one full of hope. Hope that he might make his daughter feel easier at what would happen. Nothing for himself. “If we really want to go,” Caitlin said, including herself in the deal, “we won’t give them Carla’s full name and number unless we need to. We’ll just say you know where she lives. You think you can find it?”

  “I can get us in the general area, and there’s a big slatted barrel of flowers out in the front of the yard. I’ll know it when I see it.” His voice was full of what they didn’t say—the possibility that Madeline was no longer there.

  “Good. Someone from the DA’s office should be here soon, so we’ll have a chat with them. But I do all the talking. Understand?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  She shrugged. His thanks made her feel uncomfortable.

  “Is there a bathroom around here?” he asked. “Maybe a razor? I could do with a shave.”

  She nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. But make it snappy.”

  “I’ll be finished before the DA is here.”

  True to his word, the DA was nowhere in sight when an officer led Parker Hathaway back to the room where Caitlin and Sally were waiting. He was vastly different from the despondent, unkempt man she had met earlier. His brown, slightly wavy hair was neatly combed, reaching halfway past his ears in front, longer in back. Without the growth of beard, Caitlin could see the planes of his face, not sharp as she’d previously thought but strong and angular, his nose a little on the large side but well-suited for his handsome face. Someone had given him another T-shirt, a white one that was a bit snug for his muscular build and broad shoulders. He was nowhere near as large as Sally’s Tony but on the same scale at least. Unbidden, Caitlin briefly had a vision of what those arms might feel like if they were around her.

  Sally bumped her arm, giving her a look that told her she was staring. Caitlin felt herself color. Shoot, she thought. Parker Hathaway was her client and not something to be ogled. It really had been too long since she’d had a boyfriend. But a boyfriend ate up too much free time, something she had little of these days. What wasn’t taken by her job was absorbed by Amy.

  Parker regarded her quietly, a slight quirk of his left eyebrow telling her he’d noticed her stare. She prayed he couldn’t guess exactly what she’d been thinking. “I’m ready,” he said. “Where is the DA?”

  “Here,” Mace Keeley walked in behind him through the open door.

  Caitlin felt both an excitement at seeing Mace and a little resentment. He had always brought out these feelings in her—the first because he was so gorgeous and made her knees weak, and the second she’d always chalked up to professional jealousy. Mace’s case record was impeccable.

  Mace smiled and walked toward her, ignoring everyone else in the room. “Caitlin,” he said, his voice warm. “I didn’t realize you were assigned to this case. I did ask who was for the defense, but they didn’t know.”

  “I just found out myself an hour ago. It that a problem?”

  “No.” His voice lowered. “I was sorry about Friday.”

  A thrill raced up her back. “Me too.”

  With a private smile for her, Mace turned and sat at the table, opening a file. Caitlin felt eyes on her and glanced over to Parker. His expression was unreadable,
but she felt sure he hadn’t missed the exchange. No matter. She absolutely wouldn’t allow her feelings for Mace enter the equation. She had to be at her best as she had promised Parker—and herself.

  She sat across from Mace and motioned Parker to sit next to her. “In exchange for information as to the whereabouts of Madeline Hathaway, who was discovered missing from her home on Thursday morning, my client would like immunity for his mother and the baby-sitter he employed, neither of whom had anything to do with the abduction.”

  “The mother could be charged as an accessory after the fact,” protested Mace, lifting a page that held the case summary Sally had faxed him.

  “Who bloody cares!” Sally burst out. “A little girl’s welfare is at stake here. We need to find her quickly. Prosecuting the grandmother who loves her is very much a losing proposition all around. No buts about it.”

  Mace regarded Caitlin. “Is that your assessment?”

  “We need to find her now.” Caitlin was glad she had managed to regain complete control over her face. “That is my client’s price.”

  “Nothing for himself?”

  Caitlin knew it was a trick question, and she didn’t rise to the bait. There was no way they would give Parker Hathaway immunity for what he’d done. She felt Parker start to say

  something, but she lifted her hand and put it briefly on his to still the words.

  His hand was surprisingly warm. She glanced over and saw him looking at their hands. His eyes lifted to hers and suddenly a connection sprang to life, one that didn’t need words but hinted at a passion she had only dreamed about. Surprised, she withdrew her hand and forced herself to continue talking.

  “Nothing for himself. We already have adequate defense in that regard. His mother’s involvement is negligible anyway, but my client would feel better with a signed statement absolving her from prosecution.”

  Mace rested his chin on the palm of his hand, his long fingers on his cheek as he studied first Caitlin and then Parker. Caitlin found herself glad Parker had shaved.

  “Okay,” Mace said. “It’s a deal.”

  “Good.” Sally rose from the table, satisfaction in her voice. “Then let’s just hope Madeline is still in Manti.”

  Chapter 9

  Fifteen minutes after their discussion with the DA, Caitlin was sitting in the backseat of an unmarked squad car next to Parker Hathaway, with Sally and another officer in the front. Behind them drove a police car with two officers inside. Both cars drove at a high speed, using the police lights on top of the cars to speed up the journey.

  “This drive always takes me two hours,” Parker commented, the barest of smiles arcing his lips.

  Sally grinned. “That’s the advantage to working for the law. Time is important here.”

  Parker’s gaze shifted to the window, and Caitlin was able to study him covertly. His face seemed relaxed, but there was a tautness in his body as if every muscle were straining, anxious. Just the way she’d feel if Amy were missing.

  He was good-looking, and he probably had been even before shaving, if she could have gotten around the worn jeans, rumpled and stained shirt, and the uncombed hair. Or perhaps she had seen only what she’d expected to see.

  His head turned and their eyes met, sending a delicious tingle to Caitlin’s stomach. She flushed. What had happened to her straight-faced attorney skills? The Irish in her seemed to be taking over where this man was concerned.

  He smiled and asked in a low voice, “What are you thinking?”

  How his lips might feel against hers didn’t seem an appropriate answer. She shrugged, not trusting her voice for speech.

  He held her stare for long seconds more, and Caitlin couldn’t look away. I should recuse myself from this case, she thought suddenly. But she knew she wouldn’t. She didn’t want to pass him off to someone else.

  In the front, Sally laughed at something the other officer said, and the mood was broken. Yet every so often, Caitlin felt Parker’s eyes contemplating her.

  In Manti they were joined by two squad cars from local authorities. Caitlin thought it was overkill, knowing Parker even as little as she did, but then remembered the baby-sitter might not be what they hoped.

  Sally was on the phone with the local authorities. “Still nothing new from the rental house,” she informed them. Caitlin knew she’d been expecting Carla to show up there with Madeline.

  “It’s more toward the middle of town,” Parker said to the officer who was driving. “Then west from there.”

  When they reached the right area, Parker had the man drive up and down each street. “There,” he said finally. “The one with the barrel in front.”

  The white, two-story house with red doors and shutters was as old as most of the other houses in this section but not particularly run-down. The lawn sported patches of snow, and it looked as though someone had tried to build a fort at one time.

  “You two stay here with Jim,” Sally ordered.

  “Please,” Parker said. “Let me go.”

  Sally regarded him silently for a long moment. “Okay. No funny business.” She patted the gun in her shoulder holster, just visible under her cream-colored jacket.

  “I’m going, too,” Caitlin said.

  “This could be a kidnapping,” Sally snapped.

  “If it is, they’re long gone.”

  Sighing, Sally nodded her consent. She made them wait by the car while she went to talk to the other officers. Two were going to the front door with them; the men from the local force would go around to cover the back.

  The house had a long front porch, with cream-colored plastic chairs stained from the snow and rain. Freshly painted gingerbread trim swirled around the porch’s solid-looking framework. Parker pushed the bell. Footsteps came almost immediately, and an older Hispanic woman answered the door. The smile that had begun on her round, weathered face faded as she saw the uniformed officers behind them.

  “Is Carla here?” Parker asked. Caitlin sensed the urgency in his voice, and the woman must have as well because she tore her gaze from the officers.

  “Are you father of Madeleen?” the woman asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You are very late. Carla had to go.”

  “Is Madeline here?” asked Caitlin.

  The woman nodded her graying head, opening the door so they could see the living room and a hallway. “Stay here.” She went down the hall, calling something in Spanish. Before she was out of sight, two black-haired children tumbled into view, laughing and speaking rapidly. Caitlin had learned enough Spanish to follow slow conversations, but all she understood now was the bare gist of the children begging their grandmother to let their new friend stay.

  The woman shook her head and said in English, “Her father ees here.”

  “Madeline!” called the children. “Your father! Your father is here. You have to go home.”

  Madeline appeared at the end of the hall, looking the same and yet different from the pictures on the television. Her hair was now brown, but her brown eyes and her smooth white face were exactly the same. “Daddy!” she screamed. Grinning widely, she hurtled down the hall and into her father’s arms.

  “I love Carla’s house!” she bubbled. “Can I come again? I really want to come here and play when you’re not home. I like these kids! I like you best, but they’re so fun to play with.”

  Parker buried his face in his daughter’s hair. Caitlin saw tears shimmering in his eyes. “I missed you so much, sweetheart. I’m glad you’ve been having fun.” He glanced at Caitlin, and she could see the regret there, regret that he had agreed to show them where Carla lived. Here at least Madeline had been safe.

  “She ees that girl in the TV,” the grandmother said, nodding vigorously. “I tell Carla, but she no believe. I tell her to call police.” She looked with mistrust at the officers. “But we have nothing to do with it. Nothing.” She emphasized with her hands.

  “We know,” Sally said. “Look, my associates here will just a
sk you a few questions. Okay?” The old woman nodded.

  Parker leaned over to catch her attention. “Thank you for taking care of my daughter. Tell Carla thank you. I will send her the money I owe her.” Hugging Madeline to him, he backed away.

  “Where are we going, Daddy?” Madeline asked. “Why are the policemen here? Did Carla do something wrong?”

  “No. They just want to make sure you’re safe. They want to take you back to your mom.”

  “Oh.” The little girl’s excitement dimmed at the prospect. “Will Mommy let me come here to play?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll have to ask.” Parker hugged her again.

  Madeline leaned into her father, her arms curling tightly around his neck, her cheek on his shoulder with her face pointed in Caitlin’s direction. Her smile faded and disappeared altogether, as though sucked away by an unseen force. “She won’t let me come back. She never does.” She spoke so softly Caitlin knew she was the only one who heard.

  The drive back to Salt Lake went far too quickly. For part of that time, Caitlin was on the phone with Jodi, doing as much work as she could from a distance and reorganizing her afternoon, but for most of the time, she was listening to Madeline talk with her father. Caitlin had thought Amy talked a lot, but this four-year-old was incessant and would have bordered on annoying if she hadn’t been so cute and precocious.

  “Who are you anyway?” she asked Caitlin after she had described in detail her games with the two Hispanic children.

  Caitlin wondered if Parker wanted her to know the truth, and when he gave a slight nod, she answered. “I’m your daddy’s legal defender, which means I’m going to help him with some legal stuff.”

  Madeline scrunched up her eyes in mistrust. “Legal stuff?”

  “It’s when the law—the police—think you’ve done something wrong. I try to straighten everything out.”

  “Oh.” The child turned to Parker. “Did you do something wrong?”

  “No. But people think I did.”

  “What do they think?”

  “They’re mad ’cause I took you away from your mom.”