Be My Baby: Konigsburg, Texas, Book 3 Page 6

  “Well…” Daisy’s brow furrowed. “Uncle Erik, but he doesn’t come to dinner.”

  “He doesn’t?” Jess turned off the sweeper, wrapping the cord back around the handle again. “Why’s that?”

  “’Cause he’s real busy, Daddy says.”

  “What does he do?” She began to gather up the cleaning supplies again, sliding the vacuum sweeper back into the closet.

  “He’s a policeman. He’s got a gun. He’d show it to Jack.”

  Jess wasn’t sure exactly what to say about that, since not in this lifetime didn’t seem polite. “Maybe when he’s older. Are you ready to go back home now?”

  “Yes ma’am.” Daisy stood and lifted her arms.

  Jess scooped her up high in the air, then let her down gently. “There you go! Air Daisy, in for a landing.”

  Daisy giggled, then picked up the tote bag of sponges and dust cloths, while Jess lifted Jack into the backpack, fastening the strap around his waist.

  “Can I ride in the cart?” Daisy bounced toward the front door.

  “If there’s room.” Jess folded the playpen one-handed, then carried it outside to the large yellow wagon she used to tote cleaning supplies. She suspected the wagon was the true attraction for Daisy in their morning cleaning excursions—that and Jack, of course.

  Now she helped Daisy climb inside, then settled the backpack more comfortably onto her own shoulders.

  “Can Jack ride with me?”

  Jess shook her head. “Not enough room. He squirms around.”

  “I’d hold him.”

  “I know.” Jess piled playpen, tote bags and miscellaneous dust cloths behind and around Daisy, then picked up the wagon handle. “Maybe sometime when we don’t have so much to carry.”

  Daisy looked like she might try the pooling eyes thing, but once Jess turned toward the road and began pulling the wagon, she settled back against the wagon rail, half-singing one of her songs.

  Jess trudged up the dirt road that led from the guest cabin to her home, listening to Daisy’s variations on Old MacDonald that seemed to include an improbable assortment of animals and animal sounds, although the unicorn sounded a lot like a donkey. Somewhere a cardinal chirped in the pecan trees, as the wind rattled the leaves around them.

  Surprisingly cool for early November. Jess resolved to put a sweater on Jack next time they came to the cabin and to ask Lars Toleffson to bring a heavier jacket for Daisy tomorrow. She glanced up at her cabin and stopped short.

  A man was walking across her front porch, peering in the front windows.

  Jess stood frozen at the point where the road branched off to the guest cabin. Her heart hammered. She could turn around. Clearly the man hadn’t heard them yet.

  “I need to go,” Daisy demanded, her voice piping across the open meadow.

  The man looked up, then stared straight at them.

  Jess took a deep breath. Too late to run, and where would she run to, anyway? She raised her head, straightening her spine, and resumed her trudge toward the front porch.

  “Mrs. Carroll?” the man called when she still was a few feet up the road.

  She stopped again. “I’m Jessamyn Carroll.”

  The man’s smile broadened and he stepped off the porch, walking toward her. “Lorne Barrymore. Glad to meet you.”

  Jess watched him approach. He was maybe forty-five or so, slightly paunchy, collar too tight around his chin. His hair had receded to a graying ring around the outside of his bald spot, but he’d combed a few strands across.

  Lorne Barrymore extended his hand. He wore a gold ring with a green stone on his puffy little finger. After a moment, Jess lifted her hand to shake his.

  “Glad I caught you.” Barrymore grinned again. “Thought maybe you were out.”

  “No, I’m here.” Jess wondered if there was any way she could get by him and get the children into the house. She could turn and run back to the cabin with Jack, but not with Daisy. And what good would it do to hide there when he’d already discovered where she was?

  “Who are you?” Daisy’s face slid into a modified scowl.

  “Well, hello there.” Barrymore turned toward her. “What’s your name, little girl?”

  Daisy pushed her lips together in a tight line, regarding Barrymore with narrowed eyes. “I’m not little.”

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Barrymore?” Jess leaned down and helped Daisy out of the cart, then slipped an arm around her shoulders to keep her close.

  “Well, now, I heard you were somebody who offered child care in your home.” Barrymore gave her an even wider smile, the kind supposed to make her feel more relaxed, no doubt. “I’m interested in making arrangements for my kids. We’re thinking of moving down here to Konigsburg.”

  Barrymore’s grin was bright, but it didn’t seem to go very far. His eyes were uninvolved. Jess felt a quick chill up her spine. “Sorry. I’m not licensed to look after children.”

  Barrymore’s grin hardened. “So both of these are yours?”

  “Both of them stay with me,” she temporized. “I can keep two children without a license, but I wouldn’t want to try to look after any more. I don’t have the time.”

  “But you’re looking after these two, right?” Barrymore glanced down at Daisy again.

  “Sorry, I can’t help you.” Jess took hold of the wagon handle again, keeping her arm around Daisy. She began walking toward the cabin, forcing herself not to hurry.

  Barrymore walked alongside her. “It’s a shame you’re not taking any other kids. Both of these kids look well cared for.” He glanced down at Daisy again, his smile still wide. “You having a good time here, sweetheart?”

  “I’m not your sweetheart.” Daisy stuck out her lower lip. Jess felt like applauding.

  “Like I say,” Barrymore continued as if Daisy hadn’t spoken, “I need something reliable for my own kids. I’d be willing to pay. Maybe more than these kids’ families are paying you.”

  “I don’t need any more money, Mr. Barrymore.” Jess hoped her nose wasn’t growing as she spoke. “And I can’t take care of any more children beyond these two.”

  She climbed the porch steps, pushing Daisy slightly ahead of her and leaving the wagon behind. Barrymore climbed the steps behind her. She stopped for a moment, resting her hand on the door. Her cell phone was in her pocket. She could always threaten to call Daisy’s uncle the cop.

  Barrymore gave her one last smile, his gaze darting around the porch. “Well, suppose I give you my card. Then you can call me if you change your mind. And what’s your number here?”

  “I won’t change my mind, Mr. Barrymore.” Jess raised her head, staring straight at him. Always better to meet threats head on. “I’m not interested.”

  Barrymore shrugged. “Too bad. Don’t suppose you could recommend anybody else in the area.”

  She shook her head. “Sorry.”

  “I need to go!” Daisy blurted. “Right now!”

  “We have to go now. Emergency. Goodbye, Mr. Barrymore.” Jess unlocked the door, pushing Daisy ahead of her, then closed the door behind her.

  She pushed the bolt across, wondering if Barrymore could hear her on the front porch. And wondering if the windows were all locked too. “Okay, Daisy.” Jess turned back toward the bathroom. “Let’s get you set up.”

  “Okay.” Daisy followed her down the hall. “I didn’t like him. He wasn’t nice.”

  “No, he wasn’t,” Jess muttered, pushing open the bathroom door.

  Lars came to pick up Daisy a little early so that he’d have time to drop her off at the bookstore. Docia and Janie wanted her to try out their new children’s reading nook, giving Lars another rare opportunity to have a beer with his brothers at the Dew Drop.

  Daisy galloped toward him after Jess Carroll opened the door. “Daddy! We cleaned the cabin and a nasty man wanted to know my name. Are we gonna see Aunt Docia? Jack has a new tooth.”

  She bounced away from him before he could stop her, heading bac
k toward the baby’s room. “Daisy, grab your backpack and your teddy bear,” Lars called. He figured she’d also say goodbye to Jack, which meant another five minutes at least.

  He turned toward Jess, trying to keep his voice neutral. “A nasty man?”

  Jess sighed. “Come in, please. I need to talk to you about this.”

  Lars sank onto the couch as his chest clenched. “Is she all right?”

  Jess’s forehead furrowed. “What? Of course, she is. Nothing happened—I would have called you if it was anything serious. A man was hanging around here when we got back from cleaning the guest cabin. He claimed he was looking for child care for his children. I told him I wasn’t interested and took the children inside.”

  Lars let out a breath, trying to unclench. “So everything’s okay?”

  “Not exactly.” She leaned forward. Her face looked oddly pinched, as if she were angry. Lars looked at her more closely.

  Frightened. He’d bet good money that Jess Carroll was frightened about something.

  “Did you tell anyone here in town I was taking care of Daisy?”

  Lars shrugged. “My brothers and sisters-in-law. My receptionist. Nobody else. But they might have mentioned it to other people, particularly at work.”

  “Somehow this man got the idea I was in the child care business.” She tried to smile, but her lips trembled slightly when she did.

  “Did he give you his name?”

  “Barrymore.” Jess pressed her lips together, thinking. “I think he said his first name was Lawrence. No, Lorne. Lorne Barrymore. Is that someone you know?”

  Lars felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand. “Lorne Barrymore. What did he look like?”

  “Late forties. Thinning hair. Sort of pudgy. And he had a gold pinky ring with some kind of green stone.” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you know him?”

  He exhaled slowly. “Not exactly. Somebody who looked like that came to my office earlier today. Only he called himself Lorne Haggedorn.”

  “What did he want?”

  “He claimed he was moving to Konigsburg and wanted an accountant.” Lars shrugged. “He asked about the town. Business prospects. Schools. Child care.”

  He wasn’t sure it was possible for Jess Carroll to get paler, but he thought she just had. “Child care,” she murmured.

  “I didn’t give him your name,” he said quickly. “I didn’t even give him Daisy’s name. However he found out she was here, he didn’t get it from me.”

  She pressed her fingers against her lips, blinking. “Shit.”

  Lars was still trying to figure out why Jess Carroll would be frightened of Lorne Haggedorn. The guy came across as a jerk and possibly crooked, but he hadn’t been particularly threatening. At least, not when he was asking about accountants.

  “Look, it may not be anything, but I’ll check with my brother. Pete’s an assistant county attorney. If he thinks it’s a problem, we’ll go to the police.”

  Jess managed a rather tremulous smile. “I thought your brother was a policeman. That’s what Daisy said. If I couldn’t have gotten rid of Barrymore on my own, I was going to call him.”

  The clench was back in Lars’s chest. “That’s another brother. Erik. He’s a part-time Konigsburg cop.”

  She sat still for a moment, then sighed. “Okay. I’ll leave it to you, I guess.”

  He watched her run the tip of her tongue across her lips. She had a nice mouth, particularly when she smiled. All of a sudden, he really wanted to see that smile again. He felt a wave of anger at Lorne Haggedorn, a.k.a. Barrymore, for taking it away.

  He leaned forward, fighting the impulse to take her hand in his. He didn’t want her worrying about him along with Haggedorn. “Look, if anything frightens you, if you need to get in touch with somebody—you’ve got my cell phone number. Just call me, no matter what it is. I can be out here in ten minutes.”

  Jess blinked at him. For a moment, her lips trembled as if she might cry. Then suddenly her expression closed off again. Her lips spread in a faint smile. “Okay. I’ll hold you to that. But it probably won’t be necessary.”

  Lars nodded. “Probably not.”

  He watched her for another moment. Her eyes were the color of sea foam, clear and deep.

  Okay, enough. If he was waxing poetic about the color of her eyes, it was past time to go. “Daisy,” he called, “are you ready?”

  “Yes, Daddy.” Daisy padded back to him, her backpack over her shoulder. “I said goodnight to Jack.” She turned to Jess. “Can I have a hug?”

  Jess knelt beside her, spreading her arms, her mouth sliding into a grin that showed the twin dimples in her cheeks as she pulled Daisy in.

  Lars felt his throat constrict as he watched, while some other parts of his anatomy did the opposite. He resolutely ignored the whole thing. He had no intention of walking into the Dew Drop with a hard-on.

  Lydia Moreland would never have admitted to anyone that she was waiting for a call. She didn’t wait on other people—other people waited on her.

  With Smythe, though, she had no choice. The contractor was in the driver’s seat—she was along for the ride. And to pay for the gas, of course. Judging from the first expense statement she’d received from Westerman, a lot of gas was involved.

  When her special cell phone rang around five, she picked it up immediately. Then she waited out two more rings. It wouldn’t do to let Smythe know how much she needed the information.

  “Yes?” she murmured into the cell.

  “Good. You’re there. I was afraid I’d have to leave a voice mail. And this isn’t anything you’ll want recorded.” Smythe still used the electronic distortion device. Even so the voice sounded faintly amused again, as if he knew exactly what Lydia had been up to.

  “That won’t be necessary,” she snapped. “Do you have anything to report?”

  “I’ve found your daughter-in-law. She’s living in a small town in Texas.” Smythe’s voice now sounded matter-of-fact, even slightly bored. Like he hadn’t just dropped a hand grenade into her afternoon.

  “What town?” she gasped. “Where?”

  “A town. Before I tell you anything more, we need to discuss what the next step should be.”

  Lydia pictured the mythical Smythe leaning back in a chair, smiling. She always saw him as a dangerously civilized man, rather like James Mason in the fifties. In reality, of course, she had no idea what he looked like—or even if he was a man. The voice sounded like a robot.

  “There’s nothing to discuss. I’ve already told you what I want you to do. Give me the name of the town and send me another bill.” She used the voice that had proven effective over the years with bankers and lawyers, underlings who still had some limited power of their own.

  Smythe chuckled. “That attitude won’t work with me. I have the information and you need it. We’re negotiating here, Mrs. Moreland. What do you really want?”

  She pressed her fingers against her eyelids, trying to force back the migraine she knew was developing. “I want my grandson. Safe and sound. In my home.”

  “But not your daughter-in-law?”

  “Certainly not!” she snapped.

  “It’s not certain at all. She’s the child’s mother. But possession is possession, and I imagine your lawyers can distract her once you’ve gotten hold of her son.”

  She pressed her lips together to avoid cursing. Barrett’s slut of a wife probably would try to get the child back—she hadn’t listened to reason before. Lydia would have to make sure she didn’t have the opportunity. “What is it you want, Smythe? More money? I do need the name of the town, but I don’t necessarily need it from you.”

  “No,” he agreed. “Of course, I could just as easily inform your daughter-in-law that you’re onto her. Give her time to take off again.”

  Lydia’s head began to pound. She ran her fingers along her forehead. “All right, I repeat—what do you want?”

  “I’ll deliver your grandchild. In your specified condition.
In return, you’ll pay me five hundred thousand. Once the money has been deposited in an account I’ll specify, I’ll bring you the child.”

  “That’s outrageous!” she blurted.

  “No, Mrs. Moreland, that’s cheap. I could have asked for a million. Clearly, the child is worth that much to you.”

  She sat listening to the silence for a moment, considering her lack of options. “If I’m going to take your offer, I need a way of getting in touch with you. No more of this waiting for your call.”

  After another moment, Smythe sighed. “All right, I’ll give you a number where you can leave a message. Tomorrow.”

  Lydia assumed that meant he’d buy a throw-away cell phone for that purpose. She didn’t particularly care what he did as long as it worked when she needed it to work. She rubbed her eyes again. “All right. I accept your deal.”

  “Wonderful.” Smythe sounded vaguely amused again. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Chapter Six

  Lars slid into the booth at the Dew Drop a moment before Cal dropped onto the other side. Wonder and Pete were already in place, squinting into the darkness of the bar. No beers were on the table.

  “No barmaid?” Lars glanced back at the bar where Ingstrom was doing his usual desultory cleaning job.

  “Two barmaids.” Pete sighed. “Good ol’ Ruby and a new recruit. They just haven’t been around yet.”

  As Lars watched, Ruby appeared at the bar with a tray full of empty beer bottles. Ingstrom said something, and she sneered in reply. Instead of the plunging neckline from last time, she wore a bright blue T-shirt. The picture on the front looked like a smashed hamster.

  “What’s with the T-shirt? That drawing looks like an obscenity.”

  Wonder shrugged. “It’s supposed to be a drawing of the Dew Drop. Mrs. Ingstrom designed it. Ingstrom figured it would class the place up if he had the barmaids wear matching T-shirts.”

  Pete peered toward the bar. “Covering up Ruby would definitely class up any place. However, the T-shirts were probably not his best choice.”