Someone To Believe In (37 page)

He watched her. She stared back at him. When
he didn’t say anything, she frowned, and then fidgeted. “Don’t
you...I mean, well, if this isn’t what you want...I’m just
surprised. You brought up marriage before...”

Gently he put his fingers to her mouth. “Shh,
love, be quiet. I’d like to say something, but you haven’t given me
a chance.”

“All right.”

“Though the old-fashioned, conservative guy
in me would like to have done the asking, these rings are lovely;
I’m touched. And yes, of course, I want to marry you. When?”

THE SURROUNDINGS WERE less than ideal—a small
Justice of the Peace’s chambers about an hour outside of New York
City. In the cherry paneled room, with the smell of eucalyptus
surrounding them, Clay and Bailey were married. The bride wore a
simple beige dress with a lacy hem. The groom wore a heather brown
suit that looked wonderful with his eyes. The witnesses were
strangers to Bailey. But the couple couldn’t have been happier.

George Gregory had been an old friend of
Clay’s from Harvard and one he trusted implicitly to keep their
marriage quiet—for now. The man beamed a smile at them. “I now
pronounce you husband and wife.”

Since Bailey had never heard those words or
said her own vows, she battled back tears. Clay gripped her hand,
and she could see he was overcome with emotion, too. Once again,
she marveled at fate. A year ago she was writing scathing letters
about him to the newspapers. Four months ago, she refused to see
him in person.

Now they were married.

“You may kiss the bride, Clayton.”

“Oh, I will, George.” Clay took her
mouth possessively; his action said
I’m
your husband
.

Since they’d already socialized with his old
friend, they were able to leave the chambers shortly after the
ceremony and head toward the inn where they were staying.

“Well, Mrs. Wainwright, how does it feel to
be married?” Clay asked once they got inside the car he’d
rented.

Uh-oh. She shot him a sideways glance.

He caught on. “Oh, I get it. You’re not going
to be Mrs. Wainwright, are you?”

“Um, no. I’m sorry. We didn’t talk about
changing my name, but I just assumed...”

Placing his hand on her knee, he said, “Shh.
We’ll discuss it later. Nothing’s going to spoil today for me.”

“Not even that no one you know and love was
here?”

“Well, there is that.”

“Do you mind waiting to tell everybody?”

They’d decided, until she could leave ESCAPE,
they wouldn’t reveal they were married, then they’d have a
ceremony in her church. It was an old tune for them both, one
neither of them was happy about still singing.

“Hell, yes, I mind. But becoming a daddy
again takes the edge off it.” He gave her a lecherous grin.
“Besides, you can make it up to me when we get to the room.”

“Okay.”

As he drove through the upscale area, he
smiled. “Did I tell you Goldie Hawn has a place not far from the
inn where we’re staying?”

She laughed heartily at the return to their
old joke. “That’s right, you can find anybody.”

“And don’t you forget it. If you ever run
away from me...”

She sobered. “I’d never run from you,
Clay.”

“I was teasing, sweetheart.”

“I know. I just wanted to say that out loud.”
She yawned. “Sleepy?”

She nodded. “Yeah, it’s like, now that I’ve
known about the baby for two days, I gave myself permission to feel
pregnant. I’m exhausted. And last night, I couldn’t eat Mama’s
stew.”

“I hope I get to have Mama’s stew
sometime.”

“You will, I promise. I just know this is
going to work out.”

For the rest of the trip, they shared silly
little hopes and dreams they’d never shared before. A cottage on
Keuka Lake that Clay always coveted. Bailey, of course, wanted to
go to Ireland. By tacit agreement, they’d tabled all discussion of
what still stood between them—like the vice presidency. She wanted
to ask about the gang kids who had been rounded up, especially
Mazie, but she let that go, too.

“Why the scowl, love?” he asked.

“No reason” Clay was right. This was their
wedding day, and even if she did have lingering concerns, she kept
them to herself.

On the drive to the inn.

Through dinner.

And later, where she did indeed make up for
all the secrecy.

TWENTY

THE NEXT MORNING when they got within the
city limits, Bailey turned on her cell phone to call Rory, who was
staying with Aidan. She sent for her voice mail while Clay told her
bawdy jokes about married couples. So she was laughing when she
listened to the first message. “Bay, it’s Suze. Call me as soon as
you get this.”

There were three others from Suze, two from
Joe. All said they needed to talk to her.

“What is it?” he asked when she scowled.

“Some emergency at ESCAPE. Since we’re so
close, I’d like to go there instead of home.”

He frowned. “I’m coming in with you.”

“What could have gone wrong in two days?” She
asked the rhetorical question as Clay dropped her off to find a
space to park; she hurried inside.

No one was in Joe’s office. Or Rob’s. She
strode down to hers and was astounded to see Ned Price sitting at a
table in the corner with them. They looked up as she entered.

“Thank God,” Natale said, worry in his
voice.

She hadn’t told them about the wedding, only
that she needed a few days off. “What happened? And why’s the
captain here?”

“Sit down, hon.” This from Suze.

She took a seat and Price handed her a
paper. It was a copy of a transmission on the website. It
read,
Where’s Taz, cunt? Tell me or you’re
dead!

Bailey had been threatened on occasion
before, but still, her heart leaped to her throat and her skin grew
clammy. “Who sent this?”

“Mazie Lennon.”

Bailey shook her head. “Mazie Lennon’s in
jail.”

“She was,” Price told her. “But she gave the
cops the slip when they were transferring her to a new
facility.”

Bailey gripped the paper. “The slip?”

“Yeah, she’s out.”

Ned had just finished explaining how Mazie
got away when ESCAPE’s buzzer rang. “It’s Clay,” Bailey said to
Suze. “Would you let him in?”

The cop asked, “Clay Wainwright? How do you
know it’s him?”

Thinking fast, Bailey said, “I was meeting
him here.”

“Again?” Natale’s scowl. “Why?”

Just then Clay came through the door. “What’s
going on?” he asked when he saw Price.

“Mazie Lennon escaped,” the cop said. “Then
these guys called me.”

Clay looked down at Bailey and saw the paper
in her hand. Wordlessly she handed it to him. “Jesus, Mary, and
Joseph,” he said after he read it. He looked to Price. “Did you
question the other girls?”

“Yeah. They won’t tell where the crib is, or
how to find her.”

“Gang kids don’t narc,” Bailey told them. “A
hater—a snitch—is dead meat if she gets caught.”

The cop’s gaze hardened. “And these
do-gooders won’t reveal the whereabouts of the other one, so we
can question her.”

“The other one?” Bailey asked.

“The one you
saved
, Street Angel.”

Bailey frowned. “Of course they won’t reveal
her whereabouts. We’d lose all credibility with her and any other
kid we try to get out if we did divulge her location.”

The three ESCAPE workers nodded.

Clay shook his head. Bailey could feel the
tension emanating from him.

Price’s jaw tightened. “She threatened you,
Ms. O’Neil. Your life is in real danger now. I think you can
compromise your ethics some in light of that.”

“Never.” She shot a quick glance at Clay. His
face was stony.

Ned followed her gaze. “Look, I don’t know
what’s goin’ on between you two, but if you have any sway over this
one, Senator, use it.” He stood and threw back his chair. “I’m
outta here.” He left grumbling about social agencies.

Still, Clay was silent.

“Clay, listen, this will be okay.” He just
stared at her. She glanced to Suze. “We’ve been threatened
before.”

Rob said, “Maybe the police will find
Mazie.”

Joe Natale scowled. “If we tell where Taz is,
we’re done here.”

Clay straightened and put his hand on the
back of Bailey’s chair. “I can’t believe all of you. You’re going
to keep quiet when that gang is coming after Bailey?”

“She can handle herself,” Suze said.

Natale’s chin raised. “We have before.”

Rob Anderson leaned back against the table
and said nothing.

Clay grasped her shoulders possessively.
“Yeah, well she wasn’t pregnant with my child before. She wasn’t my
wife then.”

All three spoke at once.

“Your wife?”

“Your child?”

“Holy hell.”

“Well,” Bailey said. “So much for
secrecy.”

A GUST OF November wind blew closed the door
to Clay’s town house, just after he entered. Like the weather, he
was raging; he was more frustrated and angry than he could ever
remember being in his life. “That woman is so fucking stubborn...”
He saw a wastebasket and kicked it, sending the contents sprawling.
Crossing to the sideboard, he poured himself a scotch and swore
again, all the colorful words he could think of. Bailey just
wouldn’t budge. She’d asked her colleagues to leave them alone,
then faced him...

“Our marriage and my pregnancy have
absolutely no bearing on how ESCAPE operates. We never have
disclosed placements and we won’t now.”

“Then you call Taz and ask her where the crib
is.”

“Clay, I can’t do that. If she knew I told
you her whereabouts, or even if I just asked for her help, she’d
see it as a betrayal. She might run if she thinks we’re using
her.”

“So what? You’d be safe.”

“Not if she goes back to the GGs. I wouldn’t
know anything, and she’d be lost, and Mazie could still come after
me. It would be a waste.”

“How do you know she won’t tell you their
location?”

“Gang kids, even when they relocate, don’t
give up the whereabouts of their posse.”

“She likes you. You have a relationship. Tell
her you’re in danger.”

He saw it then—the confirmation that flitted
through her eyes.

“I’m right, aren’t I? She’d be swayed by
knowing you’re in jeopardy.”

“No.”

He grabbed her wrist. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Let me go.”

He dropped her arm. “Doesn’t it matter to you
that you’re pregnant? If something happens to you, it happens to
our baby.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Clay—”

“No!” His voice rose. “I won’t listen to
this. I’m your husband now. I have some say over what you do.”

She bristled. “I wasn’t aware that was in the
vows.”

“Bailey please...”

She’d stormed out then. He followed her but
before he could retrieve the car to take her home, she’d ducked
into a cab.

I’ll never run from you
Clay
. What had that been—twenty-four hours
ago?

He’d come back to his town house because he
was so angry. And because he had a plan. There was no way he was
going to allow this to happen. Thinking of her carrying his baby
gave him the courage to whip out his cell phone.

His buddy answered on the first wring. “Lewis
here.”

“Josh, it’s me, Clay.”

“Hey, Senator, how’s it going?”

“Not so well. I have an emergency. I need you
to do something ASAP.”

“Sure. What?”

“I want you to find somebody. Her name is
Tazmania Gomez. But she’s in a protection program for kids getting
out of gangs. “

“This the one we saw your friend Bailey
with?”

“Yes.”

“She’d be buried pretty deep. It’d take a
while.”

“It needs to be done yesterday.”

“If I had something to go on more than the
pictures...”

He remembered Bailey’s excitement on the
phone when he told her about the funding for Guardian. Ironic that
giving her what she wanted had given him the information he needed.
“She was relocated ten days ago. To Rochester, New York.”

DRESSED IN CASUAL slacks, a light sweater,
and a not-heavy-enough jacket for upstate New York in November,
Clay leaned against a brick wall outside of Gates High School at
seven o’clock the next morning. In his hand, he held a new picture
of Tamara Golindo, aka Taz Gomez, and her location—school, home,
even the kind of car her host family, the Conklins, drove. Goddamn,
Josh was good. Clay had the information by last night; since he’d
missed the last plane out of New York, and already had a rented
car, he’d driven the six hours up here, arriving in time for
school.

Watching the teenagers trundle off the bus
with their leather jackets, headphones, and cocky attitudes
reminded him of when Jon was an adolescent. God, he wondered how
these teachers did it. Right now, several stood out in cold
November wind on bus duty, for Christ’s sake!

He turned and scanned the parking lot. If he
didn’t catch Taz when she arrived in the car Josh had described,
he’d go into the school and use his own identity as a senator to
get her out of class. He hoped he didn’t have to do that. He
preferred this contact to be kept a secret.

Because when he was finished here, he didn’t
plan to tell Bailey what he’d done. Not until Mazie was caught. She
hadn’t called him after their argument yesterday, and he hadn’t
called her. He wondered what she was doing now. If she was safe. He
had Ned Price standing by waiting for a call with the location of
the GG’s crib and other hangouts. Clay was going to protect his
wife and child even if she never spoke to him again.