Temporary Nanny

Where could he be?

What if someone had come to the door and Jake had let him in? He could be halfway to Mexico by now. Or worse.

“Calm down,” she murmured. There was probably some reasonable explanation. No need to jump to conclusions. Jake was probably at a friend’s house and had forgotten to call. It had happened once before. Fortunately, Brandon’s mother had called that time to let her know Jake was there.

Katy removed her PalmPilot from her purse and ran through her address book. She called Brandon’s house—no Jake. Now that she thought about it, Katy couldn’t recall her son playing with Brandon recently.

Where could Jake be?

Her gaze lit on the bottle of wine, two- thirds gone, leftover from the dinner with Royce.

She grabbed her purse and headed out the door, taking the stairs because they were quicker. She was nearly out of breath when she reached Royce’s door.

Katy pounded on the door a little harder than necessary. But he didn’t answer. Her hand shook as she knocked one last time.

Should she call the police? Have them issue an Amber Alert?

Katy blinked away tears of frustration.

Royce cursed under his breath as he chased the ball. “Sorry, kid, I don’t catch so well one-handed.”

“That’s okay, I don’t throw so good one- handed.”

Royce picked up the ball and laughed. The sun was warm on his back and he recalled just how good it felt to be outdoors and playing. “I don’t think of it that way. You’re getting better, though.”

“Yeah, so are you.” Mischief lurked in Jake’s eyes.

Royce tossed the ball to him and it bounced off the tip of his glove.

“Got to get under it.”

“It was too high.”

“Then move. Your feet aren’t stuck to the ground.” Royce demonstrated getting under the ball. Unfortunately, it bounced off his bare hand and he had to chase it again.

“It didn’t help you.”

“Yeah, well I’m the exception. Try it.” He tossed the ball high.

Jake scampered back a few feet. He smiled as the ball fell into the pocket of his glove. “Cool. You got a trick like that for throwing?”

“Just keep focused on where you want it to go and follow through. Like this.”

“Jake Allan Garner.” The frosty words came from behind Royce.

Jake’s eyes widened. He stammered, “Um, Mom, you weren’t supposed to be home yet.”

Royce turned to see Katy standing a few yards away, hands on hips, her eyes flashing.

“Why didn’t you tell me there was early release today? Do you know how worried I’ve been?”

Jake opened his mouth, but Katy kept going. “I’ve called your friends, stopped by the school. I was about to call the police and have them issue an Amber Alert.”

Royce stepped forward. “Didn’t you get Jake’s note?”

“There was no note.” She enunciated clearly.

He turned. “Jake, you said you left a note.”

The boy kicked a clod of dirt with his shoe. “I, um, forgot.”

“It seems to me you deliberately disobeyed me. And pretty much orchestrated this whole thing. You knew I’d have Sally come stay with you for early release, didn’t you?”

Jake studied his shoes. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do know. I’m beginning to think the notice got shoved under Grandma’s couch on purpose. There’s usually a second notice. I’m assuming that one got lost, too?”

The boy’s face flushed. Royce had a pretty good idea Katy had hit the nail on the head.

“Hey, kid, it’s not good going behind your mother’s back.” Royce turned to Katy. “I’m sorry, I should have known better.”

She hesitated. “It’s not your fault. He lied to you and will be punished.” Crossing her arms, she turned to Jake. “You owe Royce an apology. Now.”

“Sorry, Royce. I just wanted so bad for you to teach me.” The longing in Jake’s voice wounded him.

And reminded him of his son’s pleas at about the same age. He’d always told himself Michael didn’t need him that much. Maybe he’d been wrong.

But Jake presumably had a father. And Royce wasn’t a good candidate to fill in even if the boy never saw his dad.

THE NEXT EVENING, Katy toyed with a hotel- issue pen while she phoned her mother. She’d landed in Chicago a few hours ago, but the ache of leaving Jake for several days was still fresh. Shaking her head, she was grateful her auction house only staged about ten out-of-town auctions each year. If she’d been with one of the larger houses, it might have been more.

Katy was about to hang up when her mother finally answered.

“Hi, Mom, how’s it going?”

“Fine, dear. How was your flight?”

“Fine.” No, it wasn’t fine. But she wasn’t about to admit it.

Come to think of it, her mother seemed a bit hesitant.

“Mom, are you sure everything’s okay?”

“We can talk about it when you get home. It’s about your arrangements with Sally. Nothing serious.”

“Your tone says it is serious. Please tell me.”

“I don’t like to distract you from your work.”