Adopt-A-Dad. Marion Lennox

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СКАЧАТЬ I like it. It’s friendly. You try being a poverty-stricken single mom in a rich neighborhood and see how many friends you make. So if you really are going to help me…”

      “Yeah, right.” He sighed. The place he’d put the car was deserted and well out of sight. Jenny would have to stay in the car. He didn’t like leaving her, but there was hardly a choice. He had to move fast, and if there was one thing Jenny’s bulk didn’t let her do, it was that. “Tell me which is your apartment and give me the keys.”

      “I’m coming.” She was still crabby.

      “No, Jenny, you’re not.” He put his hands on her shoulders and propelled her onto her seat. “I’m going in fast. I’m staying out of sight, which is something I’ve been trained to be good at. I’m getting out of there even faster, and if there’s a knock on the door while I’m in there, then I’ll be out the back window like a rat down the drainpipe. Assuming there’s a back window.”

      “There’s a back window, but—”

      “No buts. Can you shinny down a drainpipe?”

      That brought a grin. She glanced at her pregnant bulge, and her eyes twinkled with sudden laughter. She looked better that way, Michael thought. “Maybe not, but—”

      “Then leave the shinnying to me.” He hesitated. “I can’t bring everything. I’ll just grab what I can. I may only have a few minutes.”

      “I don’t have much. There’s a bag under the bed. You’ll hardly fill it.”

      Funny—why had he known she’d say something like that?

      THE LADY WAS RIGHT. There sure wasn’t much. Michael stared around her dreary apartment in stunned silence.

      He had two sisters, and Lana and Shelby nested. In fact, when they’d lived together, his sisters had nested all over the house. He was used to masses of clothes, bathrooms cluttered with toiletries, bedrooms with bright fabrics and huge cushions—the sort of place where a girl could come home and relax with style.

      There was no way Jenny could come home and relax in any comfort at all, he thought, much less with style. The one-room apartment had a narrow iron bed in one corner, which was made up with essential bedclothes. There was a shabby wardrobe. A card table had one chair beside it, another chair acted as a bedside table, and there was nothing more.

      He had no time for investigation, though. A leather suitcase was under her bed. He grabbed it and discovered it was already half packed. With little furniture, she was obviously using it for storage. That made things easy. There were a couple of dresses in the wardrobe—shapeless things like the one she was wearing now. It took him two minutes to collect her meager toiletries from the bathroom. There was nothing else except for a small clock and a picture frame on her bedside chair.

      They all went quickly into the case, though he paused a moment to glance at the photo. A young man stared at him, fair and good-looking, laughing at the camera as if he was laughing at life in general. He looked as if he didn’t have a worry in the world.

      Was this the son of the fearful mother-in-law who was haunting her? Michael wondered briefly. He didn’t look as if he’d haunt anyone.

      There was no time to think of that now. He shoved the lid closed, noticing with a mind trained to notice that the suitcase was good quality leather, with the initial M burned into it. At some time in the past, Jenny hadn’t been as broke as she was at the present.

      She shouldn’t be broke now, he thought, frowning. He paid her good money. Nothing made sense, but now wasn’t the time to sort it out. He grabbed the case and crossed to the door.

      There were footsteps on the landing. Uh-oh. Ellie hadn’t delayed them as long as he’d hoped.

      “She’s not here.” It was a garrulous female voice, and the speaker sounded annoyed. The landlady? “So why do you want her? What’s so urgent?”

      “We’re from Immigration.” Silence followed, and Michael imagined them flashing their ID cards. “We need to ask her a few questions.”

      “No, you don’t.” Yep, the landlady was definitely annoyed. Authority wouldn’t be all that welcome around here. “You leave her alone, poor kid. She’s done nothing to no one, and she’s the nicest kid.”

      “We just need to ask her—”

      “She’s not here.” The voice rose belligerently, and Michael blessed the woman. “I see everyone as they go in and out. She went to work this morning and she hasn’t been back since. No one has.”

      That was because Michael had taken great care not to be seen, he thought, moving fast. If they knew he was inside packing her baggage…

      He crossed to the window. The apartment was three floors up, but an outside ledge led to a fire escape. It was a piece of cake—as long as they didn’t suspect anything.

      He was out of there with lightning speed, and even if he wasn’t forced to shinny down the drainpipe, he would have done it if he’d needed to.

      HE THOUGHT he’d left trouble behind him, but Jenny had company—and trouble of her own.

      When he’d left her she was sitting alone in his gorgeous car. Now she was surrounded by five or six youths, and one look told him they meant no good. Michael rounded the corner and froze, melting swiftly against the brickwork. As a cop, he was trained to stop and assess before moving, and he didn’t like the scene before him one bit.

      It had been stupid to bring the Corvette here. If he’d known…

      “Get out of the car, lady.” The youths had been drinking, he figured. They were loud and aggressive, egging each other on. Could he handle five of them if they turned nasty?

      There wasn’t much choice, he decided, thinking longing thoughts of his gun, which was safely and uselessly locked in his office at the hospital. He’d hardly been planning to turn it on immigration officials, so he’d left it behind.

      He couldn’t leave Jenny on her own while he went for backup. He had to move. But as he made to emerge from the shadows, Jenny’s voice stopped him short.

      “Why on earth would I want to get out of the car, Jason Hemming?”

      “What?” It was the tallest of the youths—a kid of about nineteen—and his bravado sounded a bit shaky. “How do you know who I am?”

      “We want your car, lady,” another youth butted in, his voice threatening. “Get out or we’ll take you—”

      “Me?” There was laughter in Jenny’s voice. She didn’t sound one inch afraid. “Come on, Tommy. That’s not your speed. Driving with pregnant women.”

      “I’m not—”

      She didn’t let him finish. “Tommy, I’ve seen you with ten different ladies since I moved in here, and every one is a heap more attractive than me. I don’t want to ruin your reputation.”

      “You live here?” It was the same voice, raised in incredulity.

      “I sure do. I know your mom, Jason—and yours, too, Tommy. In fact, I helped СКАЧАТЬ