In Plain Sight

“An offer.”

Narrowing his eyes, he sipped from his coffee, and said nothing.

“I’ll charge the Lorna Zeidel case and prosecute to the fullest extent of my ability.” Even though that meant starting from scratch on a cold case, a wild goose chase that—unless she pulled off a miracle—would cost the state and ultimately hurt her reputation.

“Shit.” He put down his cup with careful deliberation. The muffin she’d bought him remained untouched. “In exchange for what?”

“I need you in court a week from Monday, 8:30 sharp.”

“Why?”

She didn’t look down, as much as she was tempted to. “An evidentiary hearing to establish the validity of your confidential informant in the Hall case.”

“They want me to testify that it’s valid?”

If it was that easy, she wouldn’t have needed Lorna Zeidel. Jan waited.

Ruple threw himself against the hardwood chair, almost tipping it backward. “You want me to expose my source.”

She nodded.

“Knowing it’s the kiss of death for a cop.”

She nodded again, saying nothing as he stood.

“Do I look like a fool to you, Ms. McNeil?”

“No, Danny,” she said, still seated. “You look like a cop who’s really in it to get the bad guys—no matter what the cost.”

She had him. At least for a second. And then, leaving his coffee unfinished, he stalked out.

Would he be in touch? Or would she have to attend Hall’s hearing still wondering if her key witness—her only witness—was going to show?

“Can we not talk about our court stuff right now?”

With an effort, Jan’s smile remained intact as she fell silent. Fork in midair over her blueberry pancakes, she watched the eight-year-old across from her consume a plate of French toast without a care in the world.

“Have you changed your mind about us, Hailey?” she asked softly, holding her breath. “Because it’s okay if you have. All you have to do is say so. I won’t be angry with you, I promise.”

Heartbroken, but not angry.

The child’s short, dark curls bounced as she shook her head. “’Course not,” she said, her mouth full. “Next to Mrs. Butterworth, you’re the nicest person I ever met. Being your kid would be almost as good as there really being a Santa Claus.”

Jan wanted to hug Hailey so tight, keep her so close that no harm could ever come to her again. “You just don’t want to know about the legal proceedings?” she asked, just to be sure, respecting the little girl’s reserve.

Hailey shrugged, her shoulders bony looking beneath the blue T-shirt she was wearing with a pair of faded jeans. Her sweater was wadded beside her on the bench in the booth of their favorite diner on Route 66.

“You planning to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing.” Hailey peeked up at her. Swallowed. And did not immediately shovel another bite of food into her mouth. “I just don’t see why I should hear about the actual adoption, when they aren’t going to let it happen anyway.”

“Who isn’t?”

Had the Ivory Nation connected her to Hailey? Threatened the child? Jan’s body temperature dropped, until she realized that, once again, she was falling prey to paranoia.

“You know, the court people,” Hailey said, frowning. “Judges and CPS and all that. Derek says they probably won’t give me to anyone, but they especially won’t give me to you.”

Derek Lincoln, the twelve-year-old biological son of Hailey’s foster parents.

“Why not?”

“Derek says no one wants kids like me to have regular homes, ’cause we won’t fit in. They just keep moving us around from foster to foster, till we’re old enough to live alone.”

As quickly as Jan’s blood had frozen, it burned. “Derek’s wrong.”

“He says he’s seen it. He says it always happens that way. They talk about adoption, but every foster kid in his house just gets moved to other foster houses. He says most people don’t want us kids, ’cause we’re troublemakers and ’cause we’re too old. He says even some foster homes aren’t good, ’cause people do it for the money. He says they aren’t all like his mom, who just loves any old kid.”

“First off, you’re not any old kid, and you’re the farthest thing from a troublemaker there is, young lady,” Jan said in a voice left over from her days in juvenile court, where she’d first met and fallen in love with Hailey Miller.

Then, sensing the debilitating fear beneath the young girl’s bravado, she immediately softened. “No matter how old you get, I’m going to want you and love you,” she said, leaning over so the child could hear her clearly in the busy restaurant. “I’m not adopting just anyone, you know. I’m adopting you. Specifically you.”

Hailey’s chin puckered.

“I’ve always wanted kids some day.” Jan told the child something she’d never said out loud before. “But ever since college, I’ve worked so much I’ve lost touch with all my friends. And I never met a man I felt safe enough with to marry—you know one I believed would love me forever and ever.”

She grinned at Hailey, and felt a little better when the child smiled back.

“I was beginning to think I’d never have my family,” she continued, her voice lower as she opened her heart to this precocious and oh-so-strong child. “I don’t know why, but I never even thought about adoption—maybe because I always thought marriage would come before the kids.”

Hailey nodded, her gaze serious and on target, as if she could fully understand the complexity of the adult emotions Jan was laying before her.

Jan reached out a hand, covering Hailey’s. “Until I met you,” she continued. “Then, I could think of nothing else.”

Hailey stared at her.

And then, pulling her hand away, she stiffened. “They aren’t going to let you.”

Because she was single? She’d already crossed that hurdle, received the legal go-ahead. “Why do you say that?”

“You put away the bad people.”

Jan blinked. “Yeah. So?”

“I am the bad people.”

“Hailey Ann Miller! You are not bad!” Jan lowered her voice. “Don’t say such things.”

“Why not?” the child asked, her eyes wide and clear. “It’s true.”