Dream Lover. Stacey Keith

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      Joanna opened the case file and turned it around so April could read it. “Nothing good, I’m afraid. It’s a truancy case. I’m just too big and swollen and—if I may say, gassy—to be running around hell’s half acre looking for the kid.”

      April slipped her glasses on and dragged the file toward her. Matthew Barrett, age fourteen. History of truancy. Also an impressive—and growing—list of petty crimes. Knocking over soda machines for the change. Spray painting the sides of a public building. Burning down Mr. Grierson’s garden shed.

      Cuervo, Texas, population three thousand, didn’t have too many more places for Matthew to vandalize. He’d run out of walls pretty soon.

      “Where are his parents?” April asked, wondering why the first thing a troubled teen did was pick up a spray can. When she was fourteen, her idea of rebelling against authority involved watching a bootleg copy of The Other Boleyn Girl or eating ice cream before dinner. Of course, after Cassidy got pregnant, their parents really clamped down on dating. Boys were few and far between in April’s life, and never the kind that made her pulse race.

      Not that she wanted it racing.

      “So the mother died about three years ago,” Joanna said. “The boy’s dad is in Huntsville State Prison for assaulting a cop.”

      April felt a familiar tug of sympathy when she saw a photo of Matthew. Good looking kid. Bright, too. His last psych evaluation said he had a 142 IQ. Not that his grades reflected it.

      Joanna braced one hand on her belly and winced. “See? I just mentioned prison and she’s already trying to break out.”

      “Where’s his guardian?” April asked, expecting Joanna to tell her about a grandmother squeaking by on social security or maybe an aunt who already had too many mouths to feed.

      Joanna tapped the bottom of the page. “His older brother, Brandon McBride.”

      April skimmed the brother’s profile and her heart sank. Poor Matthew. Another kid without a decent role model. “It doesn’t look as though Brandon is stepping up to the plate.”

      Joanna used her fingers to tick off a list of Brandon’s offenses. “He’s got breaking and entering. Public intoxication. Carrying a handgun without a permit. He’s done time. That’s why I want Sheriff Murphy riding along with you.”

      “You think this McBride guy is really that dangerous?” April stared at Joanna’s flushed, perspiring face. What on earth was going on here? Yeah, sure, occasionally when social workers did home visits in sketchy neighborhoods, someone from the police department rode along. But Cuervo didn’t have any sketchy neighborhoods. Cuervo had Ed’s Lumber & Hardware. It had hay bales that glistened in the sun and an annual fair with a pie-eating contest.

      What Cuervo didn’t have were truancy cases requiring the presence of an officer of the law. Something was definitely up.

      “You called Ryan, didn’t you?” April said accusingly. “I can see it in your eyes.”

      Joanna widened them in a failed attempt to look innocent. “Okay, I called him. That man is crazy about you, April.”

      Sheriff Ryan Murphy was April’s self-appointed champion and aspiring boy toy. He was kind, handsome, funny—and everything April was determined to avoid. They had a set routine: he asked her out. She said no. And she knew for a fact that Joanna and about half the office were secretly pulling for him.

      April got up from her desk and marched over to the mini-fridge. “You know I don’t do relationships.” She took out two bottles of cold water and handed one to Joanna. “Why does everyone assume that because I’m single, I’m waiting for a fix up?” She cranked off the plastic cap and glugged furiously, hoping to drown the guilt she felt for not returning Ryan’s interest.

      “No one’s asking you to do anything,” Joanna said. “But would it kill you to go out with him? You’re too young and too pretty to be spending your whole life at your desk, April. Besides, this isn’t a date. It’s a ride along.”

      April glared at her. She loved Joanna and would do anything for her, but now April was stuck for the next hour in a squad car with Ryan Murphy. He seemed great on paper—gainfully employed, didn’t drink, had all his teeth and hair. She’d watched him rescue kittens out of trees and give “Stranger Danger” talks to kids. Of all the men in Cuervo, he was hands down the best “catch.”

      But whenever she got around him, she had to fight the urge to run away. She felt awful for disappointing such a wonderful man. It showed she was a bad person.

      Oh, do you know April Roby? What a bitch.

      Joanna struggled out of the chair and then waddled to the door. Before leaving, she turned around, and the expression on her heart-shaped face was full of honest concern. “You’re a good girl, April, and a first-rate social worker. But don’t be so quick to give Ryan the boot. This work gets to you. If you don’t find another human being to connect to, public service will eat you alive.”

      * * * *

      April didn’t have to wait long in front of the red brick Raymond County Child Protective Services building before Ryan pulled up. He flashed his boyish grin and leaned across the seat of his squad car to open the door for her.

      She also didn’t have to look behind her to know that most of her coworkers were peering through the blinds at them. The whole department was probably betting on this, same as it bet on the sex of Joanna’s next baby.

      April slid across the seat of Ryan’s squad car. His brown eyes softened when he saw her. He smelled like aftershave and peppermint chewing gum. Going places with Ryan really shouldn’t bother her. After all, she did like him. She just wasn’t sure she liked him liked him. Maybe these things took more time.

      Yet in her mind, she heard her sister Maggie say, If you have to ask, you already know the answer. Which left April feeling like a bitch again.

      She closed the door and then trained the air vents on her overheated face.

      “Good to see you, April,” he said. “I heard you had a flat this morning. Why didn’t you call? I’d have fixed it for you.”

      “It’s no problem for me to change a tire.” April handed him a yellow sticky note with the address printed on it. “Do you know where this place is?”

      He glanced down at it, frowning. “We were there just last week. One of the neighbors thought they were having a biker rally.”

      “A biker rally?” April’s chest tightened. If Matthew’s brother, Brandon, belonged to a biker gang, she really had her work cut out for her. What kind of environment was that for a child?

      “Did you see any kids when you were there?” she asked. “Maybe around fourteen or so?”

      “No, just this guy McBride. Blew into town around two months ago. He has a rap sheet, but I guess you knew that. Doesn’t say much—at least not to anyone with a badge.”

      April felt him studying her, and overcome by her perpetual shyness, she turned her face toward the window. She saw her reflection there. Pale blond hair with the sun slanting across it. Large blue eyes made larger by her glasses. The school-marmish social worker outfit that СКАЧАТЬ