Elusive Echoes (19 page)

In that moment, Sean experienced a fierce
wave of hunger for Mel and his knees buckled. He caught her around
the waist with one arm and ran his free hand through the soft
strands of her hair. Their bodies pressed together, he dipped her
back in his arms and kissed her with a burst of intense heat,
moaning against her mouth when he felt her body become pliant
against his. Her arms, caught between them, twined up and around
his neck, where she simply held on and returned his deep kiss.

Finally, he released her. "It's hard being
alone with you. Let's get these dishes washed, Sweetness."

****

Mel sat Sean down on her one kitchen chair
while she warmed up some apple pie.

"You need another chair."

"But there's only one of me. Why would I
need another chair?" She set a plate of pie in front of him.

"Maybe for times like this . . . when two of
us are eating?"

Mel set a fork on the tiny
table. "You're so sweet. Is this like asking me for dresser space?
Because
that
I can
actually do something about."

He shot her a stunned look, and she chuckled
as she perched herself in his lap. She stabbed a piece of pie with
the fork and popped it into her mouth.

"Hey! That's mine." He reached for the fork
but she held it out of his grasp.

She pasted a wide-eyed innocent look on her
face. "Was it?"

The next bite of pie went into Sean's mouth.
He closed his eyes. "Mmmm." His tongue flicked at a crumb that
clung to his upper lip.

"This is almost better than. . ." His smile
was slow, the look in his eyes sizzling.

Mel squirmed in his lap, unable to sit
still, pretty sure that had been his intent. Two could play like
that, though. She leaned forward and used her own tongue to swipe a
bit of filling he missed at the edge of his lower lip.

Sean leaned into her touch, capturing her
tongue between his lips. Mel lost track of where she was, and the
plate she held dipped. Sean snagged it just before the remainder of
the pie slipped to the floor and set the dish on the table.

When she pulled back, his eyes were
heavy-lidded and glazed. Mel swallowed hard and pushed back the
desire he could incite with just one of those looks.

She hated to ruin their evening. She really
did. But she'd promised herself they would talk just a little.

So she pulled in a bracing breath and spoke.
"I need to find my daughter."

At the same time Sean spoke also. "I think
we should search for your daughter." His brows drew together.
"Wait. What?"

Mel shook her head, not certain she'd heard
him correctly. "You first."

Sean spoke slowly, his eyes holding her
gaze. "I want to help you find your daughter. Hear me out." He
lifted a hand to shush her. "It might be she's happy and
everything's good. Then it'll be up to you to contact her or not.
But if she's not okay, you need to know so you can make things
right for her."

Pie completely forgotten, Mel threw her arms
around Sean's neck. "You just keep getting better."

Before they got carried away again, Mel rose
and walked to her closet. She took out a long sweatshirt and pulled
it over her head. Then she stepped out of her PJs and into a pair
of jeans.

At first, Sean stared at her in confusion,
but he quickly glanced away. "What are you doing?"

Mel shrugged. "I've got a couple of things
to show you and I'm going to talk about my family. I'm not doing
that when I'm in my pajamas."

Sean's lips twitched at her explanation.
Then he frowned. "Mel, if you mean Nick DeVayne and his son, they
weren't your family."

It took her six steps and
about as many seconds to cross the room to where he sat waiting.
Mel cupped his cheek and gazed deep into his eyes, needing him to
understand everything. "The thing is, we were together as a family
unit for almost five years before I could leave. We
were
a family, Sean. We
did—things as a family. Denny and I worked the grift. It was
expected of us like other kids are expected to do household
chores."

She could tell the idea was distasteful to
him. His frown deepened, his mouth set into a grim line. His most
hurtful reaction of all, though, was when he averted his gaze.

A wistful sigh escaped her
lips.
Oh, Sean
.
This was exactly why she'd never wanted him to know about that part
of her life. In silence, Mel moved her hand to toy with his ear,
then hooked the back of his neck. Bending to him, she brushed his
lips with hers. When she lifted her head again, his dark thoughts
weren't as apparent in his eyes.

"Let's go sit on my lumpy sofa." She grabbed
Denny's letters from the top of the fridge. Sean followed her in
silence.

****

Mel set some letters on the coffee table,
then pulled the small wooden box from next to her TV over to the
sofa. She sat with it on her lap, absently tracing an invisible
pattern on the top. Finally, she lifted the lid.

"There wasn't much worth bringing with me
when I left Nick." She lifted out a stack of what looked like check
stubs, paper-clipped together, and set them aside. She pulled out a
plastic nametag bearing the McDonald's logo and the name Monique
DelRay, and set it on top of the check stubs.

Sean couldn't see the next object she picked
up. She kept it in her palm for a second, then extended her hand
and opened her fingers. "Remember this?"

With a jolt, he recognized the red pebble in
the shape of a heart. He'd found it outside the funeral home and
given it to her to hold onto at Todd Mitchell's funeral, hoping in
some small way that it would give her comfort.

Sean traced the rounded edge. "I don't
believe you kept this."

"It was one of the few things I had of you.
This was another." She slid out a photograph, bent and worn around
the edges. In faded color, it showed the two of them playing on the
tire swing that still hung from the tree in the McGee backyard. She
sat on top of the swing, clinging to the rope for dear life, and he
stood on the swing, one leg on either side of her, his head thrown
back in an obvious war cry. They looked incredibly happy.

Sean struggled for breath. He remembered
exactly when his father had taken the picture. He'd teased her
until she climbed on the swing and let him push her higher than she
was comfortable going. Then he'd jumped on behind her and together
they had whooped and laughed until the swing had slowed down.

Reaching into his pocket, he slid out his
wallet and flipped through the plastic picture section until he
came to the photo he sought. Then he turned it to show her the same
picture.

Mel's chin quivered.

"Don't, please." He stroked her jaw with a
forefinger. "If you cry right now, I'll lose it."

She bit her lip and held her breath. After a
moment, she got herself back together. "I don't have any pictures
of my mom and dad. Nick found them one day and burned them in front
of me. He didn't find the one of you and me because I always kept
it in my pocket."

Would there ever be an end to the
heartbreak? Sean finally understood why it was taking her so long
to talk about the time she'd been away. Each word probably picked
at an emotional scab. "Dad has pictures of your parents. They're
older ones. My mom took them before she died. I used to go through
all the pictures she took so I could feel close to her. I'll get
them for you."

Her eyes glistened again and he shook a
finger in warning.

She lifted out another picture and caressed
it with her finger before letting him see it. "This is Glenn. This
is my baby's father."

Sean stared at the picture in a complete
state of shock. The face that looked out from the picture could
have been mistaken for his own at about age sixteen. The kid had
worn his hair longer but his features and coloring were so similar
they might have been Sean's.

He cut his gaze up to Mel.

She leveled her gaze back at him, her smile
a little regretful. "Yeah, he was kind of your replacement. But he
was nice, too. He deserved so much more than to be a fill-in
boyfriend."

"What happened to him?"

Mel shrugged. "No idea. He knew about the
baby, but he was so scared, he agreed to let me handle things. Nick
never knew who the baby's father was." She sighed heavily. "I never
told him, no matter how many times he asked. He would only have
gone to Glenn's parents for money."

"So, he just disappeared?"
Sean set his teeth, struggling to hold his tongue.
He
wouldn't have
disappeared. Not for anything.

Mel nodded, the sadness in her eyes
shredding his heart. "It was what I wanted him to do, Sean. He
didn't abandon me. I don't think he would have. But Nick would have
hurt him in more ways than you can maybe imagine." She reached into
the box again and removed something wrapped in green and gold
Christmas paper. "This is the only other thing I kept."

Sean recognized the paper immediately. He
held his breath until she revealed the tiny brass horse. He'd
worked around the ranch for two months, doing extra jobs for his
father, so he could pay for the Christmas gift he'd given her when
he'd been twelve. About two inches tall, the proud horse stood,
alert and watchful. It had reminded Sean of the mustang
stallion.

"Mel. . ." He opened his hands, palms up, at
a loss for words.

She shook her head and smiled for the first
time. "I didn't show you these things so you would feel sorry for
me. I want you to know that even though Nick tried to take away who
I was, he didn't succeed. He couldn't. And a big part of that was
because I held on to you." She touched Sean on the hand. "I need
you to understand that even though I helped Nick run his cons, I
tried very hard to hold on to who I was. I lost pieces of me, a lot
of me, actually, but not all of me."

"You survived, Mel."

Leaving the things from the box scattered
across the coffee table, she picked up the letters.

"Denny's been writing to me. Just since last
May, and only two or three lines in each letter."

Sean felt a muscle working in his jaw. May
was about the time Mel had started to act a little more desperate
about their relationship. He wondered if that was a coincidence and
decided it probably hadn't been. "What does he want?"

"He hasn't revealed himself yet," she said
dryly. "In all but his last letter, he mentions cons we pulled
together. Some of them he's exaggerated the things I did, some he
got right. He wants me to know he can rat me out at any time. Wants
me on edge, not feeling safe. He's made his presence known. And
he's just like Nick, so he wants something. The thing is . . . he's
in the area. His last letter was postmarked from Des Moines, Iowa,
but DC told me he's had tickets from different places in Wyoming.
The last one was Saturday afternoon."

Sean let out a breath. "So you really may
have seen him."

Mel nodded. "Probably. In his last letter,
he sent me a newspaper clipping." She slid it across the coffee
table.

Recognizing it as the clipping that had been
tucked under her alarm clock, Sean picked it up.

"Prominent Oklahoma City Attorney Indicted
on Adoption Fraud and Baby Selling Scheme." He continued to read
the short article, noting the date was within the last couple of
weeks. Allegedly, the adoption lawyer had been accused of selling
one baby, so all of his arranged private adoptions since the start
of his practice fifteen years ago were being investigated. "It
doesn't really say much. Do you think this is the attorney DeVayne
worked with when he stole your daughter?" He looked at the article
again, skimming for the name. "Elias Hood?"

"The time and location fit. But the name
means nothing." Mel rubbed her temples. Her eyes appeared drawn and
tired. "I don't know if Denny would have known where my baby was
taken, though I suppose he could have just found out. It's not like
him to give me this information without getting me to give him
something first, so I'm confused."

"May I read the other letters?"

Without uttering a word, she handed them
over. He could tell she was reluctant for him to see this aspect of
her life, and he took hold of her hand while he read, hoping to
reassure her.

The letters didn't say much. A few mentions
of the virginal con she'd already told him about, a couple with
specific descriptions of the men. The descriptions were so specific
they stood out and Sean wondered if they were blackmailed more
heavily or if there was another reason these two had been
mentioned. One letter near the end mentioned a time they'd worked
together to score some free fast food.

"Why are they all typed?"

Mel picked up the top letter and ran her
fingers over it. "This is a paper trail. Denny took a huge gamble
mailing me anything at all, but for some reason he needed to reach
out, to build up to whatever it is he's after. Sends me letters,
not quite threatening me. To anyone who doesn't know him, it's just
remembering good times."

"But why are they typed?"

"So they can't be tied directly to him. He
types the letter, deletes it from the computer, ditches the
computer—no more connection." She shifted to meet Sean's gaze. "He
hand-wrote the envelopes, maybe because he couldn't print them from
the computer for some reason, but more likely hoping I'd recognize
his handwriting. Since the first letter isn't threatening or
incriminating in any way, there would be no reason for me to not
open the next."

"Except you didn't," said Sean softly. He
traced the tops of Mel's fingers where she clutched her brother's
letter.