Someone To Believe In (33 page)

Clay shook his head. “You’re right. I’m not
thinking clearly these days. You should know what’s going on.” He
scanned the area. “Not now, though.”

“So long as it doesn’t blow up in our faces
before I get to hear about it.”

“It won’t.”

“Monday morning.”

“Monday, I have the meeting with Stewart
about the allocation of the crime bill funds.”

“Ah, yes. Bailey O’Neil’s going to be there,
isn’t she?”

Clay recognized this as, ironically, a change
of topic, and appreciated it. “Yes.”

“There’ll be fireworks, won’t there?”

“Probably.”

Again, Thorn frowned. “She’ll take you by the
balls if you let her, Clay.”

She already has.
“I know. I have it under control.”

“When she coming into town?”

Clay waved to a friend of his from Virginia.
“Uh, this weekend. Oh, look, there’s Commander Ransom from the
navy. I’d like to talk to him.”

Thorn grabbed his arm as he started away.
“How long are you staying tonight?” Clay caught his shrewd
gaze.

Checking his watch, Clay said, “An hour or
so.”

“And then you’re going back to...holy shit,
Clay. I just put the pieces...”

Clay turned. “What are you talking
about?”

“Bailey O’Neil. Jesus Christ, Clay, what the
hell do you think you’re doing?”

“HEY, STREET ANGEL, how ya hangin’,
lady?”

Still in Clay’s bed, but wearing one of his
pajama tops, Bailey smiled into the phone. “Good, Taz.”

“What’s cookin’?”

“I just had some time so I decided to call.
Not too long until I won’t be able to chat with you, girl.”

“Yeah. We’re jettin’ soon, right?”

“Are you all right with this, Taz?”

“Yeah, I’m cool. Ready to bounce.” She heard
a hesitation in Taz’s voice. “The new place, it’ll be safe,
right?”

“Yes.” Since Taz wouldn’t be eighteen until
the end of the year, she was going to be in foster care, in upstate
New York with people who’d volunteered for the Gang Protection
Program. “I think you’ll like the family.”

“They got kids?”

“No, none of their own. Why?”

“I’d just like to be around some kids. You
got any?”

“A little boy.”

“Lucky.”

Bailey liked chit-chatting with the girl and
not solving life-and-death problems. “Do you want to have children,
Taz?”

“Big-time. But not before I can take care of
them.”

“This move will help put you on that path.”
Clay appeared in the doorway, his tie undone, his hair disheveled.
“Hold on a sec.”

“Who are you talking to?” He looked weary and
unnerved.

“Taz.”

His face tightened. “Taz, as in gang girl
Taz?” Now, he sounded impatient.

“Uh-huh.” She went back to the phone while
Clay sipped a drink he must have made downstairs. “I’ll talk to you
again soon with the details about leaving, sweetie,” Bailey told
the girl.

“Gotcha. Ciao, lady.”

They disconnected and for a minute Bailey let
herself be optimistic. Taz sounded hopeful. Ready to take this
step. It was times like these that Bailey felt so good about her
work.

From across the room, Clay yanked off his
tie. “Couldn’t you leave that alone for one night? And why would
you use your cell? Now she has your number.”

“I don’t think that’s a problem anymore. And
since you were out, there didn’t seem to be any reason to ‘leave it
alone.’” She studied the stern set of his jaw. The rigidity of his
shoulders. “Tell me why you’re upset.”

Taking a hefty swig of his drink, he leaned
against the dresser. “My chief of staff has guessed about our
relationship. He reamed me out tonight at the Kennedy Center for
keeping him in the dark.”

“Guessed? How could he guess?”

“Who knows? He put clues together. I was
hesitant about going tonight. I broke it off with Jane. I’ve been
vague and secretive about things.”

“But how would he know it was me? Did
somebody see us last night?”

“No. Alex Case got the go-ahead for Rory to
get in to see Jeter. He mentioned ‘my young friend’ in front of
Thorn tonight. Then Thorn asked about Monday and your coming to
town, and I don’t know, hell, the inflection in my voice,
something, must have tipped him off. He asked me directly.”

“And you didn’t lie.”

“No.”

“I see.”

He set his drink down, and walking to the
closet, he took off his suit coat and hung it up. “There’s more I
haven’t told you. My father and Tom Carter think something’s going
on with me, too. They don’t know about you, but they do suspect I
stopped seeing Jane for another woman.” She opened her mouth to say
something, but he cut her off. “They’re right, of course.”

“Clay, is
nothing
private with you?”

“I guess not.”

Rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, he
crossed to her and sat on the bed. He toyed with the top button of
his pajamas that she’d borrowed. “I was going to tell you about all
this tomorrow. Now the stakes are higher.” She watched him. “I
wish I could say I was sorry that people are finding out, Bailey,
but truthfully I’m not. I hate this.” He swept the room with his
arm. “The hiding. I want you in my life openly.”

She sank back into the pillows. “I know you
do. I want that too. It’s so hard and confusing. I wish there was
some way we could change the necessity for me to stay out of the
public eye.

“Would you consider some other kind of job,
working with kids?”

She raked back her hair. “I don’t want to
leave ESCAPE, Clay. Despite the danger.”

“Danger? Are you referring to something
specific?”

She picked at the thread of the quilt on his
bed. “I have something I’ve been waiting to tell you, too. Promise
you won’t fly off the handle.”

“I never fly off the handle.”

“About these things, you do.”

“I promise.”

“Taz is going into the Gang Protection
Program.”

“Really? That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “I think I’m really going
to get her out.”

“I hope so, honey.” He watched her. “How did
it come about?”

“Her gang girls grabbed her computer. They
came on the website, looking for the Street Angel.”

“How on earth did they know about your
connection with her?”

“Apparently, they had some suspicions. I’ve
been trying to figure out the chain of events. My best guess is
they found ESCAPE bookmarked on her Internet program and put two
and two together.”

He stiffened. “And got minus one.”

“Yes. They pretended they were her. I didn’t
catch on at first, and almost gave away her location at the
shelter.”

“You didn’t though?”

“No. I caught myself when I realized who they
were.”

He took a bead on her. “Oh, I get it. They
threatened you, didn’t they?”

“Well, it was clear they weren’t happy with
Street Angel.” She grabbed his arm. “Please, don’t get mad. If it’s
going to work between us, you can’t go off every time my job takes
a turn you don’t like.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “It makes me
sick inside to think you’re in danger. I can barely tolerate it.
Now, more than ever.”

Bailey watched him. “I understand, Clay.
Really I do. And I hate that this hurts you so much. But short of
giving up my job, I just don’t know what to do about it.”

“Well, we have some choices to make in any
case, I guess. Thorn knows. My father suspects. Jon, Rory,
Aidan...we didn’t do a very good job of keeping this secret did
we?”

“No.” Bailey watched him.

And, finally, she admitted to herself for the
first time that she was going to be forced to choose between Clay
and her career.

EIGHTEEN

THE CONFERENCE ROOM at the Russell Building
was old—it sported antique cherry furniture, Persian rugs, an
ornate chandelier, and other fancy light fixtures. It was meant to
intimidate. As Clay watched Bailey face down the committee, he
felt a spurt of pride that she was not, in the least, put off by
her surroundings. Of course, she’d been in prison and had endured
unspeakable intimidation there.

“Welcome, Ms. O’Neil,” Chuck Stewart said as
he began the meeting. “By the way, I know you keep a low profile,
but the committee knows your identity.” He gave her a dry smile.
“We’ve talked quite a bit about you.

She returned his smile. “I imagine you have.”
She was all prim and proper, sitting with her hands clasped on the
table, wearing the blue suit she’d worn the first time Clay had
kissed her.

Stewart continued. “You’re here at the
request of your task force. Protocol is to let the spokesperson,
i.e., the senator in charge, present the group’s findings. We’ll do
that, then break form so you can have your say.”

“Thank you for letting me be here,
Senator.”

“Make it Chuck.” It was nice of him to not
give an unfair advantage to the others who, of course, were on a
first-name basis. “Clay?”

Across from her, Clay straightened and passed
around a thin folder. “Our recommendation is fairly simple. Here’s
a listing of all the agencies in New York we think should get money
from the new bill. At the top are agencies like ESCAPE, then the
shelters and clinics. We’d like to see the money divided among
them.”

“You agreed to this, Clay? Even though it
goes against most of your beliefs about social agency intervention
in dealing with youth gangs.”

“Well, the Youth Crime Bill’s money is
earmarked for those agencies, but yes, I conceded to giving ESCAPE
and a few other programs I disagree with the money.” He took a
quick peek at Bailey. Her face was full of soft approval.

“The distribution would be according to size,
location, and need, right?” Chuck asked.

“Yes. All except for three hundred thousand.
There’s a disagreement over the shelter, Guardian.”

“Which is why you’re here, Ms. O’Neil,
correct?”

“Call me Bailey. And yes, that’s why I’m
here. I understand you’ll cast the deciding vote.”

“My committee will.” He faced Clay. “Go
ahead, present your case.”

“I can see where we need to shelter kids
trying to get out of gangs, so I voted for some of the money to go
to places like Gentle House. In addition, they’ll service other
kids. However, to build one solely for gang
members—criminals—would take money away from teens who need
shelter and haven’t done anything wrong.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw
Bailey stiffen. It was hard to believe he’d been inside her just
hours ago.
Make me forget about all our
differences, Clay
. He had, with mind-blowing
sex.

Clay presented the rest of his defense with
lawyerlike clarity, then Stewart turned to Bailey. “Perhaps you
can enlighten us on why you want a separate shelter.”

“Because we could do so much more for gang
kids. In shelters like Guardian, we’d have specially trained
counselors to expedite the process of getting out. Doctors could
set up ancillary clinics at the sites. Schools could be
represented in an effort to keep these kids in the classroom.
Eventually, we hope to have job training so they could get the
skills they need to stay out of gangs. The possibilities are
endless.”

“Why can’t that be done in other shelters?”
Tom Carter asked.

“Because they don’t have the money, manpower,
or skills to provide for the specific needs of gang kids.” She
faced Chuck. “Your bill, and grants we would write for stopping
juvenile crime, would give us the needed funds.”

Clay felt his temper rise. “We can’t cater to
criminals.”

“They aren’t criminals. These would be
kids trying to get
out
.” She
slapped her hand on the table. “To
avoid
becoming hardened criminals.”

“How do you know the ones you’re trying to
get out haven’t broken laws already?” Clay asked. “You won’t help
the police prove anything.”

Stewart smiled. “Well, I can see what fuels
these fireworks between you.” He said to Bailey, “Would ESCAPE run
Guardian?”

“We could. If we get the money, those things
would have to be decided.”

“Do you have the manpower?”

“We’d manage.”

This time, Clay slapped his hand on the
table. “By running yourself into the ground doing it.”

The room stilled. Bailey’s eyes widened at
his personal remark. Then she recovered. “Which is no concern of
yours, Senator.”

He backpedaled. “It is if we give you money
and you stretch yourselves so thin we lose it.”

The spirited discussion was joined by all the
members. After a half hour, Stewart said, “I guess that’s enough.
We have information to make our decision.” He nodded to Bailey.
“Thanks for making this an interesting morning.” And at Clay.
“Could you both stay a minute?”

After everyone filed out, Stewart faced them.
“I can tell this was hard for both of you. I appreciate your coming
here and sharing your views despite how uncomfortable this must be
for you.”

The senator from Massachusetts had no idea
how true his statement was.

“I want to ask you something, Bailey. Jim
Smith is working on creating a post in HEW that deals with youth
crime. Its parameters haven’t been set, but its focus would be the
schools. He’d need somebody to head it. With your background, and
from what Clay tells me about your work in education, would you be
interested in applying for the job?”

“DID YOU SET me up in there?” They were
walking toward his office at a brisk pace. He’d practically had to
drag her here, as she wanted to get away from him and think. Her
typical MO.

“No, I knew nothing about Chuck’s
suggestion.”