Random Acts Page 15

  “No need, sir.” Henry backed toward the door.

  “Let me be the judge.” Patrick watched Henry as he left, wondering if the kid with the stricken expression on his face was capable of beating a woman. Sometimes he hated this job. He turned and ran upstairs. He found Danielle standing in the bathroom doorway. Jenny sat in the empty bathtub, her legs pulled up to her chest, her face buried in her knees.

  “How’d you open the door?”

  Danielle lifted a bobby pin pinched between her fingers. “She won’t talk to me.”

  Patrick pushed into the room and sat down on the edge of the tub. “Jenny?”

  Jenny blinked back tears. Her entire body shook with sobs. “I thought he was coming for me.”

  Patrick locked gazes with Danielle. She frowned and lifted her palms. He placed a comforting hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “Who was coming for you?”

  Jenny shook her head. She batted away his hand, then planted her palms on the edge of the tub and pulled herself up. She stepped over the edge of the tub and marched out of the bathroom.

  Danielle caught her arm. “Tell us what you know.”

  Jenny pulled away, her expression pinched. “I—” she shook her head as if clearing the image, “—the alarm freaked me out. That’s all.” She dropped down onto the bed.

  “You’re not telling me something,” Danielle said in a gentle voice. “Please, please tell me who hurt you.” She sat next to her sister, yet seemed unsure of what to do with her hands. The scene tore at Patrick’s heart.

  “You need to tell us. Was it Billy? Someone who worked for Billy? We can protect you,” Patrick said, crouching down in front of Jenny. The alarm had triggered some sort of flashback for Jenny. Had someone come into her home the night of her accident? Pulled her from her bed? He was convinced now more than ever that Jenny was hiding something. Maybe she hadn’t forgotten.

  Jenny’s steely eyes telegraphed what was etched in his heart. You already failed me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Danielle plopped down on her childhood bed and ran her hand across the worn comforter. It had been exactly two weeks since her frantic trip home after Jenny’s accident. And now, with Billy Farr in custody and her sister on the mend, she planned to return to Atlanta in the morning. So why did she feel so blah? Perhaps because she worried about her sister’s psyche. Jenny wasn’t talking much about the attack, but was doing her best to convince everyone she was fine, and it was time to get on with things.

  It also didn’t help that Danielle had to return to her job, knowing she’d have to work like a dog to get herself back into the good graces of the partners of the law firm. She stuffed a shirt into her suitcase and wondered if she had completely derailed her career, everything she had worked for.

  Danielle rolled her shoulders and drew in a deep breath. She had spent the better part of the last week lining up repairmen to make repairs on the house because she refused to allow Henry back into Gram’s home. She’d discussed long-term plans with her sister on how they could keep Gram in the house. And she spent some time with Patrick, but had made it abundantly clear that neither Mayport nor he was in her future. All in all, she’d had a busy week.

  Danielle pulled another shirt off the wire hanger in the closet and pressed it close to her chest. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t shake this gloom. Was she too willing to walk away from a second chance with Patrick? She flung the shirt into the open suitcase. No, she had worked too hard to just throw away her career. Her mother had walked away from her children for a man. She refused to give up her independence. Her security.

  But Patrick isn’t any man…

  Over the course of the week, she’d found herself reflecting in prayer. But myriad worries barraged her brain, never allowing her to be still long enough to listen. Maybe she wasn’t wired for prayer. She had to make a decision based on facts. And the fact was she liked having money and security.

  The doorbell sounded downstairs, startling Danielle. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Could it be Patrick? He had to know she was leaving tomorrow morning. She smoothed a hand over her hair and pinched her cheeks for color. She ran downstairs and opened the front door. Ava. Her heart squeezed. Danielle would really miss this little girl. Ava bounced on the balls of her feet as if she had a secret.

  “Well, hello there, Ava.” The pair had grown very close. Ava had stopped by after school every day this week. Danielle tried to be the type of adult she wished she’d had in her life when she was ten. Each time she saw the child’s smiling face, a tiny part of her heart ached. The more attached she grew, the harder it would be to leave. She had to leave. Soon. Hanging around wasn’t fair to anyone. Least of all to this beautiful little girl.

  “I have this for you.” Ava offered Danielle a shocking-pink envelope.

  Danielle slipped her finger under the flap and eased a piece of dark purple construction paper from the envelope. Colorful butterflies flittered across the page. “This is beautiful. Did you make it?”

  “Yeah.” Ava smiled shyly. “It’s an invitation. I wanted to have you over for dinner before you left.” The little girl pushed out her lower lip and Danielle detected a slight tremble. “Do you really have to go?”

  Danielle tipped her head and studied the child. Tears burned the backs of her eyes. Fearing she’d collapse in a blubbering heap, she gazed over Ava’s head to the stately white home across the lawn. The home that represented everything she’d never have.

  “Are you okay, Miss Danielle? You look sad.” Ava’s small hand slipped into Danielle’s. A yearning she never knew she had tugged at her heart. “Or are those happy tears?”

  Danielle drew in a deep breath, then exhaled. She bent over and kissed the top of Ava’s head. “They’re happy tears.”

  “Good, so you’ll come?” An eager expression lit Ava’s face.

  “Does Bunny know about this?” She thought back to the uncomfortable Sunday dinner nearly two weeks ago. Had it really been only two weeks ago?

  Ava’s green eyes widened and she nodded vigorously. “My dad knows too.”

  Danielle looked down at the handcrafted invitation and her heart swelled. How could she say no to this beautiful child? “I’d be happy to come. What can I bring?”

  “Bunny said to just bring yourself.” Ava turned and bounded down the porch steps with a spring in her step. She stopped and spun back around. “Oh, and make sure Gram and Jenny come with you.”

  With Ava’s invitation in hand, Danielle went into the living room. Gram had an expectant look on her face. Her pale brows furrowed. “Why the long face? Sounds like we have a nice dinner invitation.”

  “It’s not that…I’m tired.”

  Gram reached out for Danielle’s hand. Danielle lowered herself onto the footstool in front of her grandmother. “You must be exhausted. I’m grateful you were able to get away from work and come home.”

  Home. The word still had a distant ring to it. Was Mayport home? Or Atlanta? Her head swirled with too many disjointed thoughts. She lifted Gram’s hand and kissed the soft skin.

  Gram cupped Danielle’s chin with her warm palm. “Did you ever think about staying?”

  Danielle laughed, then sobered. “Here? In Mayport?”

  A small smile pulled at Gram’s lips, softening the lines around her mouth. “You could be happy here.”

  “Maybe. But I’ve worked hard. I could be a partner soon. And with this economy, I’m lucky to have a job.”

  “You can always find excuses if you’re looking for them.” Gram fingered the red ribbon marking the page in her Bible sitting open on her lap. “And that sweet child looks up to you.”

  Danielle bit her lower lip, trying to keep it from shaking. “She is sweet.”

  “And what about Patrick?” Gram asked when the silence stretched between them.

  “Patrick?” Danielle asked coyly as she shifted on the corner of the footstool.

  “Oh, don’t give me that.”

  Danielle shook her head.


  “You used to be such good friends.”

  “That was a long time ago.” Back then, Danielle was naive. She had nothing to lose.

  “Two people don’t often get a second chance.” Second chance. There were those words again. “God works in mysterious ways.”

  She didn’t know much about that, but she had too much respect for her grandmother to say differently.

  “I see the way you look at him,” Gram said.

  Heat crept up Danielle’s face.

  “Oh, don’t be getting shy with me. I remember how you used to pine after him, staring like a lovesick child across the lawn.”

  “Don’t remind me. I was a fool.”

  “No such thing. Don’t you think I see how he looks at you?”

  Danielle narrowed her gaze, hope blossoming in her chest. She saw it too, but hearing her grandmother say it made it more real. “You’re a hopeless romantic, Gram.”

  Gram ran a strand of Danielle’s hair through her fingers. “For such a sophisticated big-city girl, you sure miss the obvious. Don’t let your mother’s sins ruin your life.”

  A tear escaped down Danielle’s cheek. She quickly wiped it away. Leaning forward, she kissed Gram’s soft cheek. “I love you, Gram.”

  Patrick watched as Ava skipped across the back lawn, her blonde curls bouncing in her excitement over what was sure to be the last picnic of the season. She held something in her hands. “Miss Danielle brought an apple pie.”

  Patrick clipped the plastic cloth onto the picnic table to prevent it from blowing away. He turned to see Danielle making her way across the lawn, her paced slow as she helped Gram navigate the uneven terrain. His heart tightened. He had hoped he’d be able to convince her to stay.

  “I made an apple pie,” Bunny muttered under her breath as she glanced at the one Danielle had sent over. “Quick, Patrick, take mine and put it in the fridge. We’ll serve hers.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Bunny smiled, softer than usual, and planted a kiss on her son’s cheek. “Danielle is our guest.”

  Patrick narrowed his gaze. “Does this have anything to do with the fact that she’s leaving tomorrow?”

  A light twinkled in Bunny’s eyes. She shook her head. “No. Actually, for Ava’s sake, I’m disappointed she’s leaving. That child has taken on a new glow.” Bunny shrugged. “I think I may have judged Danielle too harshly.” She patted Patrick’s cheek. “Now go take my pie inside before she sees it.”

  On his way back out of the house to the grill, Patrick greeted his guests while juggling a plate full of meat. Bunny settled Gram and Jenny on the back porch. Out of the corner of his eye, Patrick saw Danielle making her way to him. She lifted her face to the sun and briefly closed her eyes. “It’s a glorious day. Too bad the winter comes so early here.”

  “The winters are a little easier down south.”

  Danielle glanced at him with a measured stare. “True. The fall stretches well into December.”

  “And not much snow.”

  “No, but when it does snow, it’s usually the big wet flakes.” Tiny lines formed around her twinkling blue eyes. “And it’s crazy. When it snows down there, people use umbrellas. Can you imagine?”

  He shook his head and watched her hands flutter when she talked. She was beautiful, but he couldn’t help but lament they had resorted to talking about the weather.

  “I’m glad you made it for dinner.”

  “I could never say no to Ava.” Her gaze drifted over to his daughter who was taking drink orders from her guests. “She’s quite the hostess.”

  “She takes after her mother.”

  Their eyes met and locked—perhaps it had been the mention of Lisa. Maybe his deceased wife was part of the reason Danielle refused to give them a chance. Did Danielle doubt he had room in his heart for her too? He opened his mouth to say something—perhaps this would be his last chance before she left—when Ava came skipping over.

  “Want some lemonade, Miss Danielle? I made it myself. Or,” she added with less enthusiasm, “we have bottled water.”

  “Lemonade sounds great.”

  “Okay.” Ava smiled brightly before skipping toward the house.

  The sun glinted off something gold around Danielle’s elegant neck. Curious, Patrick reached out and took the liberty of brushing his finger against her warm neck, then under the chain. An audible gasp escaped her lips. “May I?” He didn’t wait for an answer. Gently, he tugged at the chain until he exposed the gold cross hidden under her clothing. He pinched the cross between his fingers and placed it on top of her sweater, the gold color prominent against the blue material.

  Danielle flattened her hand on top of the cross, as if she had only now realized she had it on. “Gram found it in her jewelry box. It was mine from when I made my confirmation.” She shrugged. “I guess I left it behind when I went away to college.”

  “And you’re wearing it now…” Patrick let his words trail off, not wanting to make any assumptions. But he couldn’t deny the hope filling his heart.

  “My grandmother means the world to me. It makes her happy.” Danielle’s checks grew flushed.

  “Patrick, I could use a hand,” Bunny hollered from the back door.

  “Can we talk later?” Patrick asked, disappointed that their conversation had been interrupted.

  “Sure. Let’s go help Bunny.”

  Danielle drank in the moment, memorizing every detail to savor at a later date. From the way Ava’s eyes sparkled as she talked about her latest knitting project, to the content look on Gram’s face, to the spectacular display of color God had painted in the leaves. She paused for a moment. Had she really thought in terms of God? She lifted her fingers to the gold cross and then quickly dropped her hand. Maybe it wasn’t too late to teach an old dog new tricks. Smiling, she turned and found Patrick studying her from across the picnic table. Her cheeks grew warm. The hole in her heart seemed to grow smaller.

  Doubt crept into her mind.

  “Do you like the salad, Miss Danielle?” Ava asked. She stabbed a grape tomato and lifted it on her fork. “I made it.”

  “It’s delicious.”

  Ava popped the tomato into her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. “Are you going to come back and visit us soon?”

  Danielle felt a bittersweet tug at her heart. She quickly glanced around the table. Everyone seemed focused on their meals. Danielle forced a smile. “Ava, I’ll come back and visit.”

  “You promise?” The little girl stared at her intently with those green eyes reminiscent of Patrick’s.

  “I promise I will come back to visit more often.”

  “As long as she doesn’t forget about us once she’s back at her fancy law firm.” Leaning on the picnic table, Jenny pushed herself to a standing position, a smile playing on her lips, and she winked. She pulled one leg, then the other, over the picnic bench. Over the past week, Danielle had seemed to mend the fence with her sister, and she was especially pleased when Jenny’d announced she and Jimmy were taking a break, at least until she figured out what she wanted from life. Jimmy had been persistent with his phone calls, but Jenny’d seemed more determined with each day. Danielle was proud of her.

  Gram’s eyes slid to Patrick. “Oh, I think she’ll be coming around a little more.”

  Jenny picked up her plate and glass. “I think it’s great Danielle’s going back to Atlanta. It seems to suit her.”

  Despite all their heart-to-hearts this week, Jenny had been adamant that Danielle leave Mayport. She felt a twinge of disappointment. Why didn’t Jenny want her to stick around?

  “Thanks for dinner,” Jenny said, pulling the collar up on her jacket. “Can I help carry anything in before I go?”

  “Are you sure you won’t stay for dessert?” Bunny asked.

  Jenny waved her hand. “No, thank you. I’m tired.”

  Patrick stood and offered his arm. “Let me walk you home.”

  A tired smile turned up the corners of Jenny’s
lips. “No, I’m good. Please, sit down. Enjoy the company.” With rounded shoulders, Jenny turned and walked away.

  Danielle forced a smile. Pivoting on the end of the bench, she rose to her feet. “Thank you for dinner. It was a lovely evening. I probably should be going too.” She reached over and picked up her plate. “I have to finish packing. Gram, are you ready to go?”

  “I can walk Gram home in a little bit. We haven’t even had dessert.” Danielle didn’t miss the disappointment in Ava’s voice.

  “Thanks, sweetheart. That would be wonderful.”

  A shrill cry came from around the front of the house. The fine hairs on the back of Danielle’s neck stood at attention. Jenny. She dropped her plate and glass on the table and ran in the direction of her sister’s cry.

  “Let me go,” Jenny cried, her fisted hands protected her scrunched-up face.

  “You’re lying. You’re lying. You have to tell the truth. ” Debbie, Billy Farr’s girlfriend, had Jenny by the shoulders, shaking her, forcing her head to bob back and forth.

  “Stop!” Patrick yelled as he ran past Danielle. He grabbed ahold of Debbie and pried her fingers from Jenny, who was clearly shaken. He pulled Debbie’s arms behind her back. The crazed look in her eyes sent a chill down Danielle’s spine.

  “Billy did not hurt you. And he’s not a drug dealer. Someone set him up. Someone put those drugs in his trunk.” Debbie’s voice rose to a higher and higher decibel, piercing Danielle’s eardrums. A small child’s wailing floated up from the rusted-out car idling in the driveway. “He wouldn’t do drugs. We have a child. You have to tell the truth.”

  Danielle drew Jenny into a protective embrace. Her sister’s lips trembled and what little color she had drained from her face. Shoulders trembling, Jenny bowed her head and hid her face in her hands.

  “Debbie,” Patrick said, his voice compassionate, “you need to pull yourself together. For your daughter’s sake.”

  A whoop, whoop of a siren sounded from the end of the drive. Chief Parker raced up the driveway, his vehicle chewing up gravel. He pushed open his door and strode toward them, his hand hovering over his gun. “What’s going on out here?” He gestured with his chin toward Jenny. “Is she hurt?”