To Protect Her Son Page 3

  “No. We believe Adam was caught up in something not of his own making. To my knowledge Adam hasn’t been involved in an incident like this before.” The police officer leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, his eyes searching her face. “The point is, we don’t want this to happen again. We usually recommend a mentoring program in these situations. If you agree, we have several skilled officers who work with teens. We’d be willing to set up a meeting between Adam and one of them. The other option is to seek private counseling.”

  Gayle thought about Nate Garrison. But what was the likelihood of Nate being available, even with Sherri’s intervention? Nate might be too busy to help out.

  Yet she couldn’t risk having Nate take Adam’s case. She had to choose the private option. “I don’t have the money...” She placed her trembling hands out of sight of the officer, whose watchful eyes held a hint of kindness.

  “What if I can get you into the community center program? They’re pretty busy, but I’ll see if I can get him bumped up the queue.”

  “You’d do that for Adam?”

  “Yes.” He glanced over at Adam, who had slumped even farther into the sofa. “I believe your son didn’t mean to be part of that fight. He was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He turned back to her. “Does Adam have a curfew?”

  “He does, but he didn’t keep it tonight.”

  “Well, let’s see if we can get him back on track.” He reached into his uniform pocket and retrieved a card. “Here’s the contact information for the community center program.”

  She grasped it eagerly, her relief palpable. Maybe she’d found an ally in her efforts to get Adam to straighten out. “Thank you for bringing my son home, and for everything you’ve done for him.”

  The officer turned his gaze to Adam again. “I promise that you will have all the help you need to stay out of trouble. In return you have to promise me that you will keep the appointments set up for you. Deal?”

  Adam sat up straight, resting his hands in his lap. “Sure. Why not?” There was no cockiness in his voice, but rather a look bordering on hope.

  Had Adam wanted this to happen? Was he so desperate for someone’s help and understanding that he’d done this intentionally?

  “Okay. That’s it.” Officer Edwards rose. “I’ll be in touch. In the meantime, call that number if you need to contact me,” he said, pointing to the card he’d just given her.

  Gayle thanked him, walked with him to the door, locking it behind him before turning back to her son. They needed to talk. She couldn’t believe that Adam would get into trouble this way. She returned to the living room but he wasn’t there. She searched the kitchen and the rest of the main floor, bumping her burned wrist against the door frame of the tiny den. It hurt so bad she nearly cried out. She wanted to sit down and sob until there were no tears left. Instead, she gritted her teeth and climbed the stairs to his bedroom.

  She knocked. No answer, only a rustling sound. “Adam, can we talk?”

  “Not tonight, Mom. I’m tired.” His voice was subdued.

  “Do you need a bandage for that cut on your forehead?” she asked, remembering all the times in the past when she’d bandaged an arm or knee after a spill from a bike. Memories that reminded her how much her relationship with her son had changed during the past couple of years, despite her efforts to build a new life. Was he unhappy here in Eden Harbor? Had the move from Anaheim been a mistake? She’d brought him here because of the kids he was hanging out with, but maybe it wasn’t those kids but Adam himself who was the problem.

  She hated herself for thinking that way.

  “No, Mom. I’m good,” Adam said.

  She could tell by his voice that he was just inside the door. She reached up, placing her hand on the door at the spot where she guessed his head would be resting. She yearned for those days not so long ago when Adam had shared his concerns. For so many years, whenever he had a problem he sought the refuge of his room, where he would be waiting when she came up the stairs. And so it was tonight: only tonight was different. Tonight Adam didn’t ease the door open and sit on the end of his bed, waiting to share his problem with her.

  She was tempted to open the door, but didn’t, fearful that he might be angered by her action. She could handle anything but his sudden outbursts of anger. The first had happened only a few weeks ago. It had not only surprised her, but left her deeply saddened and afraid. Her fear over his behavior had made her avoid confronting him about it, creating a distance between them she hadn’t been able to bridge.

  It was so difficult to witness what was happening with Adam. When he was angry, he seemed so much his father’s son. After the initial excitement of her marriage to Harry, she’d experienced firsthand what life was like with a man whose angry outbursts had become a part of their daily lives. Harry used anger to get what he wanted from her or from anyone who got in his way.

  * * *

  ADAM STOOD JUST inside the door, his stomach aching, tears hovering beneath his lids. He wanted to open the door so bad. He didn’t want to disappoint his mom. He was so confused by what happened earlier in the evening.

  He hadn’t meant to cause his mom so much grief. Really he hadn’t. He’d been on his way home with Derrick when one of his classmates had caught up with him. Eddie Walsh had wanted him to join his other buddies at the old pool hall near the waterfront.

  They’d gone over there and shot a couple of rounds of pool, during which Adam had lost badly. Thankfully he hadn’t bet any money on the games, despite pressure from Eddie. He didn’t have any cash on him, and until he paid his mom back he wouldn’t have any. He figured Eddie and his friends would drop him, but they hadn’t. They’d let him play and they’d cheered him on. He’d felt accepted by them.

  It wasn’t until they’d decided to go back to the waterfront, and he’d seen the town clock, that he’d realized he had broken his curfew. He’d been trying to decide what to do when the fight had broken out. They’d just been walking along, fooling around, when suddenly someone had walked up behind Eddie and punched him.

  When someone took a swing at him, Adam had no choice but to defend himself.

  He hadn’t meant to get in a fight. He hadn’t meant to be late. He hadn’t meant to do any of it. But now it was too late to say that. He was old enough to stand up for himself. Eddie had said as much. And there was no explanation for his behavior that his mom would understand.

  Moving here had been his mom’s decision. He’d gone along with it because for the first time that he could remember his mom was happy. He’d never seen her smile as much as she had at the news she’d inherited this house. And he wanted his mom to be happy. He didn’t understand why she was so sad, but he was pretty sure it had to do with his dad dying in a trawler accident off the coast of Alaska.

  She had settled right in here, and had made friends. The neighbors loved his mom, and were always asking about her when he mowed their lawns. He couldn’t seem to find a friend among the kids at school. The only person who had been kind to him was Morgan Brandon, mostly because she was a new kid, as well.

  He liked her. But she was a girl. It wasn’t the same.

  Wishing things were different, but knowing he couldn’t change what he’d done, he waited to see if his mom would insist on coming into his room. For a few minutes he considered opening the door...talking like they used to do. Yet in the end he didn’t feel like talking. The fight had frightened him. He’d never hit anyone in his life and regretted what he’d done.

  The kid he’d hit was in his class, and now the word would be out that he was trouble. Way to go, he thought to himself as he listened for his mom on the other side of the door. As the minutes ticked away, he felt sadder and sadder.

  * * *

  STILL NO SOUND from inside Adam’s room. Gayle had never felt so lonely, so lost, in all her
life. Tonight had scared her. And yet she couldn’t bear to lose faith in her son, to have him become more distant and difficult. She didn’t have a clue how to stop what was happening, and that frightened her so much she could hardly breathe. Adam was her life. She loved him with her whole heart, and wished she had the nerve to open his door.

  She waited, trying to decide what to do. In the end she felt she had no choice but to wait for Adam to come to her and explain his behavior. When he did she would listen and try to understand what was going on with him. “See you in the morning, then,” she said, quietly lifting her hand from the door before going down the hall to her own room.

  She got ready for bed while listening for the sound of his door opening, disappointed that there would be no chance for them to talk this evening. Yet the normal peacefulness of her bedroom didn’t stop her from turning over the events of the past weeks in her mind, wrestling with her fear that she’d made some irrevocable mistake. She fell into a restless sleep, awaking the next morning feeling exhausted. In the early-morning light, her thoughts were much clearer. Regardless of how she felt about seeking help for Adam, she had to take steps to stop him from getting into further trouble.

  Three days later Gayle approached the office of community services with trepidation. Adam had refused to go with her, and had willingly gone to school instead. The receptionist ticked her name off an appointment list before leading her into the office of Ted Marston, the head of community services. Despite her unease, she noted that the man was young, his office neat and orderly. The brightly colored pots filled with strawberry geraniums cascading over the windowsills of the large bay window behind him created the only touch of disorder in the entire space.

  “Please have a seat,” he said, his voice instilling confidence. “I’ve got the report from Officer Edwards about your son’s behavior a couple of nights ago.”

  “Yes. I wanted Adam to come with me, but he refused,” she said, concerned that Adam’s no-show could jeopardize the whole plan.

  “It’s okay. I would have liked to meet your son, but this is strictly an organizational meeting. Adam’s absence tells me he’s not that keen on doing this. How do you feel about it?”

  “I’m worried that if Adam doesn’t get help now he’ll get into worse problems. We moved here...” No! She couldn’t mention Anaheim without explaining that this wasn’t the first time she’d been worried about Adam’s choice of friends. She couldn’t betray her son to this stranger. Better to save any discussion of the past for his mentor once he was assigned one.

  “How long ago was that?”

  “About a year.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “I inherited the Cooper house. Susan Cooper was my mother’s sister.”

  “I’ve often admired that house, especially the gingerbread woodwork, and it’s got a great veranda. Are you the one who replanted the front flower beds?”

  She felt her face relax into a smile for the first time since she’d entered the room. “I did. I like to work with my hands, and gardening is such a pleasant pastime.”

  “My wife would agree with you,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the mass of red blossoms and green foliage dangling from the windowsill. Returning to the paperwork in front of him, he said, “When I got your son’s referral and was told it was urgent, I had no choice but to look for a mentor outside those here in this office. With more people unemployed due to the downturn in the fishing industry, our counselors and mentors are busier than they’ve ever been. But your son is about to have one of the best in Eden Harbor take his case—Nate Garrison.”

  Sherri must have convinced her cousin to step in. Despite her worries Gayle was thankful for the help. If it was the best option for Adam, and since Nate had such a good recommendation, maybe she should simply accept the inevitable. “Nate Garrison is my best friend’s cousin, but I don’t know very much about him.”

  “You’re very lucky to have him take your son on as a client.”

  * * *

  NATE GARRISON SHIFTED his weight to ease the ache in his thigh as he sat in a very uncomfortable chair outside Ted Marston’s office. He’d arrived a little early, and had welcomed a few moments to relax. The client he’d just seen was a sixteen-year-old boy whose mother would not take any responsibility for what was going on in her son’s life. She blamed the father, her ex-husband, for her son’s problems, and refused to consider that she might have to change her approach in how she raised her son.

  It had been a difficult case for him, but it became intolerable when the woman made it clear she wanted to go out with him. She’d mistaken the interviews about her son over coffee as personal attention from him. He’d let her down as gently as possible. Then he’d spent the past hour getting his notes written up to pass the file to one of the other mentors.

  He was here as a favor to his cousin after a teenage boy had been picked up by the police for fighting. The boy’s mother, Sherri’s friend, was a widow raising her son alone. In Nate’s experience single parents, especially widows, had difficulty setting boundaries for their teenagers. This was almost certainly because the mother, who had already suffered a serious loss, didn’t want to lose her daughter or son, as well.

  But according to his cousin, Gayle Sawyer’s husband had died years ago. He sighed at the thought of facing another difficult situation after the morning he’d had. Not because he didn’t want to help, but he wasn’t feeling very sympathetic at the moment. This case was too close to the one he’d just signed off on.

  Still and all, he couldn’t resist Sherri’s plea on behalf of her friend.

  And this was the life he’d chosen, one that had its successes along with difficult moments.

  After he’d been shot in Boston, he’d been angry at the world and had gone looking for someone to blame. That was until he’d met the teenager who had shot him. A boy of fifteen who had grown up in one foster home after another, the child of parents who had abdicated their responsibilities long before the shooting.

  Eventually he’d come to realize that he would not be going back out on the streets as a cop. He would need to rethink his life and his career. He had always wanted to help teenagers and young adults before entering the police force, and now he had an opportunity to do that. He wasn’t being noble or particularly altruistic, not at all. There was only one thing driving him. If he could keep one kid from picking up a firearm and killing someone, he would feel he had used his time and his abilities for the greater good.

  In his experience the parent was often more problematic than the teenager. He sincerely hoped this wasn’t the case here. And after this morning, he didn’t need another woman with her own issues messing up his work life. But Sherri had championed Gayle Sawyer’s cause, saying that she wasn’t a needy woman—in fact, just the opposite.

  “The things I do for my cousin,” he muttered to no one in particular as he approached the door to Ted’s office.

  * * *

  GAYLE TURNED AS a light tap sounded on the office door. Ted Marston got up. “Hello, Nate. So glad you could come on such short notice. And by the way, thank you for helping out here,” he added as they shook hands. Turning to Gayle, he said, “I’d like you to meet Gayle Sawyer. Her son, Adam, will be your client.”

  Nate Garrison walked farther into the room. The charcoal-gray shirt under his worn black leather jacket matched the gray of his eyes. Despite the cane he used, his whole demeanor spoke of a natural authority. Black hair streaked with gray sobered his appearance, and there were lines around his eyes and mouth. She could only imagine what he’d been through—physical pain, rehab and the loss of his rating for active duty.

  He walked toward her, his eyes assessing. She shook hands with him, noting his gentle touch, the look of concern evident in his clear gaze. Guilt engulfed her. What sort of injuries had the police officer Harry had shot in Anaheim sustained? H
e’d been hit in the leg and the hip, but she had never gone to see him to apologize for what her husband had done. She realized in an instant of mindfulness that she’d been carrying this guilt with her all these years.

  “It’s good to finally meet you. My cousin Sherri has been on my case for days. When Ted approached me to take your son as a client, she wouldn’t let me say no. You know what Sherri is like when she’s on a mission.” A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes, and it was if the whole room shifted ever so gently. “And you’re going to be her maid of honor.”

  She swallowed over the lump of surprise lodged in her throat. How much had Sherri said about her? What conclusions had he come to? And how much did he know about Adam’s issues? “Yes, I am.”

  “Then we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

  “I’m really looking forward to the wedding. It should be a lot of fun,” she said. As she gazed up into his steel-gray eyes, her body tingled, a sensation so unusual for her she gave a little gasp.

  “You realize we’ll have to dance at the reception,” he said, making her pulse jump.

  Gayle hadn’t danced with a man in so long she couldn’t remember—high school, maybe.

  Suddenly aware that he was still holding her hand, she pulled away. “I...I’m not much of a dancer. This is my first time being part of a wedding party.”

  “Seriously? I thought that was some sort of rite of passage for women.”

  His words reminded her of how socially barren her life had been. And this man had pointed out her shortcoming as easily as if he were talking about the weather. Determined not to let him see the hurt in her eyes, she turned her attention to Ted Marston.

  Yet Nate was so gorgeous she couldn’t help but surreptitiously glance his way. Someone should have warned her. Even his cane looked sexy. If only he wasn’t related to Sherri and Anna, two people she liked and admired. There was probably some rule about Nate dating the mother of one of his clients, but that didn’t stop her from wanting him to see her as a desirable woman, not just the mother of a troubled teen.