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“So George Tucker told me.” Linc waited to smile until he turned his back on the ten-year-old. “Biting’s not the way men solve things, Wolfie. Not even if they’re bad things. So before you go biting any of the folks up at the house, I’d like you to promise you’ll talk to me first. Trust me to handle the problem. Will you do that?”
“I ain’t makin’ no promises till I see.”
“I guess that’s fair enough. I’ve never met the older kids. But I suspect life’s been no picnic for them, either. I’ll start by giving them my house rules.”
“Rules?”
“Dos and don’ts. They’re pretty simple.”
“Oh.” The boy tucked his chin against his thin chest and tried to match Linc’s longer stride while leaving plenty of space between them.
Entering the ranch house provided instant respite from the stinging wind. The room was well lit and warm. The little dog dashed up, barking its head off. But otherwise, if Linc expected to walk into a beehive of activity, he was doomed to disappointment. Each teen appeared to have staked out his or her wedge of real estate. The three boys sat on the floor, propped against their possessions, which included backpacks and guitar cases. Randi and the other girl sat on a raised hearth in front of an empty fireplace. Hana and Cassie did their best to melt into a dark corner as far away as possible from the teens. To the last kid, all tensed visibly when Linc walked in with Wolfie.
Linc homed in on Randi. “Was Mrs. Tucker wrong about there being meat in the freezer?”
“I, uh, we didn’t check. Eric said we shouldn’t rummage in the kitchen without you. That way you can’t claim something ought to be there that isn’t.” At Linc’s vacant expression, she added a qualifier. “You know, in case you try to tell the cops we stole from you.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” Lincoln loosely bracketed his hips with his hands. He studied the room’s occupants. One older boy wore a long, ratty velvet coat over holey jeans. The baggy pants of the other two dragged on the ground. One wore leather wrist bands. All had numerous earrings in both ears, and the girl with the lighter brown hair— Jenny—had her lip, eyebrow and, Lord knew what else, pierced. Distrustful expressions, identical to Wolfie’s, were mirrored five times over.
He slowly released a pent-up breath. “It’s safe to say the ranch doesn’t meet any of our expectations. I counted on having time to spruce it up and lay in supplies. And you thought you’d walk into an operating shelter.” Linc’s gaze shifted to Wolfie, his sister, and Cassie in her pint-sized wheelchair. “On top of that, I never planned on hosting…small children. But they’re here and will be until I reach the new director of Social Services.”
“None of us formed any preconceived notions,” Miranda muttered. “Why don’t we start over? Introduce ourselves, and then food can be our next priority.”
“Right.” Linc rubbed the back of his neck, beginning to feel overwhelmed by everything facing him. It embarrassed him that the girl, Randi, was the first to voice a mature approach. He was, after all, the adult in charge. Although it struck him that, as John Montoya had said, he’d jumped into this venture without a shred of actual experience.
“I’m Lincoln Parker,” he said. “Linc, if you like. Until a few weeks ago I lived and worked in Hollywood. My aim in starting this retreat is to provide a safe, substance-free home for up to a dozen teens who’ve lived hand-to-mouth on city streets.”
“Parker?” Jenny gasped. “You’re not Felicity’s brother, are you? I mean, you couldn’t be that Lincoln Parker.” She shot Eric a funny look and they both uttered uneasy choking sounds.
“As a matter of fact, I am that Parker.” Linc’s eyes clouded. He was getting a bad feeling about these kids again. “No. It’s too unbelievable to think you’d be… Not even the cops were able to find the kids who dumped my sister at an inner-city L.A. emergency room and then ran off.”
“We didn’t dump her,” Jenny sputtered. “Two cops at the ER told us to get lost.”
Eric scrambled to his feet. “Yeah, I went back the next day and nobody would tell me a thing. We heard later she’d OD’d. Felicity was our friend, you know.”
“I spent weeks combing backstreets, asking information of anyone who might have seen where you were.”
“Gosh, didn’t Felicity ever talk about us? When you were out of town, she let us crash at your place,” Jenny said edgily, beginning to chew her nails, which was something Miranda noticed the girl did in tense situations.
“You brought drugs into my home?”
“No!” Jenny seemed horrified.
“Don’t lie. I have an autopsy report that shows alcohol, marijuana and embalming fluid in my sister’s blood, for God’s sake. Oh, what’s the use of talking to you? The police were adamant that even if I found you, you wouldn’t rat out a dealer.” Linc’s dark eyes glittered as his anger centered on Jenny. “I won’t tolerate drugs here. Maybe you’d better move on.” His voice shook with anger.
Eric stepped protectively in front of Jenny. “You’ve got no right to yell at us, man. Me and Jenny tried to help Felicity.”
Jenny’s white face bobbed out in the open as she grabbed Eric’s arm. “It was wet, Eric. That’s what made Felicity act so crazy.”
Linc’s scowl returned to the girl. “What are you yammering about? The night you took Felicity to emergency, the city hadn’t seen rain in months.”
“Not rain, stupid,” Eric spat. “Wet’s a street name for weed—marijuana—laced with PCP, soaked in embalming fluid and dried. Felicity knew—we all know that’s evil shi—er, stuff,” he finished lamely, watering down his language when Miranda jabbed him in the ribs and rolled her eyes at the children still huddled in a corner. Wanting to defuse the situation, she hauled Jenny toward the kitchen.
“Today has turned out to be a shocker for everyone, Mr. Parker,” she said. “My dad used to say trouble’s better met and dealt with on a full stomach. Why don’t Jenny and I see what we can find to make for supper? Y’all can talk afterward.”
Linc leveled a frown at the girl with the too-dark hair, pale skin and smoke-gray eyes. “If you have a dad worthy of quoting, why are you hanging out with this riffraff?”
Miranda’s chin shot up. “My dad died. And we’re not riffraff. If that’s your attitude, and if you want kids with pedigrees, why advertise this place as a haven for homeless teens?”
Her barb struck Linc in an unprotected spot and triggered a load of guilt. Why had Felicity, who had access to a nice home and best of everything money could buy, chosen friends among druggies and derelicts? He obviously wouldn’t find out by attacking the very kids he hoped one day to wrest answers from.
Still gruff, he waved the two girls away. Wheeling abruptly in the direction of his youngest guests, Wolfgang in particular, Linc rattled off their names by way of introduction. “Wolfie, you go help Randi and Jenny. You know better than I do where cooking supplies are kept. Eric and company can help me inventory the rest of the house. Between now and suppertime, we’ll sort out equitable sleeping spots for the night.”
Wolfie, mulled over Linc’s words. “What’s equit…that word you said. What’s it mean?”
“It means fair. Elbow room for everyone, like we discussed earlier. I don’t want anyone encroaching on his or her neighbor’s sleeping space.”
“I guess that’s okay,” the boy muttered. “You sure use big words, mister. Me, Cassie and Hana ain’t no walking dictionaries, you know?”
The kid sounded so serious, Linc laughed. “Okay, I’ll watch the four-bit words.”
Even the older teens broke out in approving grins. For the moment, the strain that had permeated the room evaporated.
Greatly relieved, Miranda picked up Scraps and nudged Jenny into the kitchen.
“Remember to wash your hands before you touch any food,” Parker yelled after them. He didn’t really expect an answer and wasn’t surprised when none came. But he realized that John Montoya had been more right than wrong. He might be in over his head here.
CHAPTER THREE
JUST BEFORE RANDI found the light switch and spilled light into the dark kitchen, Jenny grabbed her. “I’m no cook, are you? What if Lincoln Parker hates what we fix?”
Miranda didn’t answer. “Eew…ew!” Pinching her nose closed, she surveyed a mountain of dirty pots, pans and dishes stacked haphazardly on every surface of an equally dirty stove, sink and counter. “Not only were those houseparents despicable,” she said in a nasal voice, “they were pigs.”
“Yeah, this is disgusting.” Jenny covered her nose and mouth with one hand.
“Jenny, go find Mr. Parker. Tell him we can’t do anything about starting supper until we’ve made a dent in cleaning up this mess. Warn him that some of these pans look so corroded they’ll have to be trashed. Beginning with this one.” She gingerly picked up a saucepan with moldy macaroni and cheese burned to the bottom and sides.
Jenny wasted no time hightailing it out of the smelly room.
Not caring how chilly it had grown outside, Miranda flung open what windows she could budge. She sucked in great gasps of fresh air and wondered how anyone could live this way.
She returned to the sink and began emptying it of unwashed dishes when she heard heavy footsteps coming closer, followed by a partially muffled, “Good Lord!”
Miranda couldn’t help laughing. “My sentiments exactly.”
“This kitchen’s a pigsty. No wonder your dog’s out by the door hiding his head. I thought the bedrooms were bad. They’re the Ritz compared to this.” Linc made a slow circuit of the room. “The boys are bagging rubble from the four bedrooms. God only knows what condition the sleeping bags are in. I unearthed them from a back closet.” Linc felt his burgeoning headache begin to pound in earnest.
“At least we have hot water,” Miranda said brightly. Steam rose from the sink she’d plugged, but her attempt to find dish soap in the cabinet below met with no luck. After searching several more places, she puffed out a breath. “I can’t find any soap. I guess they ran out. Maybe that’s why they stopped washing dishes.”
“A kitchen in a home for kids and no dishwasher? That’s idiotic. Shoot, heck and damn. The minute I set eyes on this unholy mess, I figured it’d be midnight or later before we could reach a point where cooking was possible. But without soap and disinfectant, I doubt it’ll happen at all.”
“So, we’ll, uh, tighten our belts again tonight.” Miranda knew her friends had hoped to have a decent meal. But it wouldn’t be the first night they’d gone to bed hungry. “At least we’ll be sleeping out of the cold. That’s something.”
Known in the world of finance for making quick decisions, Linc made one now. “Look, Randi—that is your name, right?” At her nod, he continued. “I don’t see that we have a choice but to load everyone in my Excursion and go in search of a restaurant. And if there’s a motel with vacancies anywhere in town, two rooms should do us, I think. Tomorrow, before we head back, I’ll buy supplies. I’d appreciate it if you’d make a list of what’s needed for this kitchen to be operational.”
“A shovel?” Her smile brought out a dimple in one cheek.
Once again Linc felt a tug that was almost physical. Frowning, he said, “Put a case of jumbo trash bags and a new set of cookware on the list.” He took a giant backward step toward the door. “While you work on that, I’ll round up the others. I’ll see if the little squirts have nightclothes and clean clothes for morning. If I ever saw kids in need of a good scrubbing, it’s them.”
As he turned to go out, Linc almost fell over the gum-chewing girl who’d purportedly been friends with his sister. Given the circumstances, it was all he could do to mutter a civil, “Excuse me.”
Jenny, who’d overheard part of his and Randi’s discussion, blocked Linc’s exit. “You really intend for us to eat at a restaurant and then go to a motel?”
“I see no other choice. Help put those pans in to soak, please. By tomorrow, steel wool might get some of them clean. Right after heat for the bunkhouses, I’m adding an industrial-size dishwasher to my list.”
Linc made a second attempt to leave the kitchen, but something in the way Randi studied him through narrowed eyes gave him pause. “If you’ve got a problem with my solution, spit it out. From what I saw of the towns I went through on the way here, they’re liable to be the type that roll up their sidewalks at nine o’clock.” To keep from reaching out and giving her arm a reassuring squeeze, he glanced at his watch.
“I think Jenny means money’s an issue,” Randi blurted. “We may be able to pool our pennies and buy burgers. But…well, we can’t begin to cover the cost of a motel.”
Miranda still had her diamond earrings, but since throwing in her lot with Jenny and the boys, she’d found no opportunity to visit a pawnshop. And she dared not risk the kinds of questions that would crop up if any of her new friends got a glimpse of the rocks she had sewn in the lining of her jacket.
“You think I’d expect you kids to pay?” Linc exploded. “Like any of this is your fault.” He swept an arm to encompass the mess. “It’s a damned good thing I’m not within reach of my buddy who negotiated for me on this place. All I can think is that John Montoya never set foot inside the house, or else he’s blind and missing his sense of smell.”
Linc wrung a low laugh from Randi. A husky sound that slid up his spine the way her voice did. Her voice made him think of a piano bar and mellow scotch.
Suddenly Linc found himself wondering why, if she hung out with Felicity’s starstruck groupies, some producer hadn’t seen her potential? True, her skin tone and unusual eye coloring were at odds with hacked-off, too-black hair. But a hairdresser and color could remedy that. It flitted through Linc’s mind that black wasn’t Randi’s natural shade. Probably a phase she was in. A few years back Felicity had dyed her rich brown curls a dull black, too. She’d also worn black lipstick and nail polish. She described the style as “goth” and refused to speak to him for weeks when he’d objected to her appearance.
Though he couldn’t say why, Linc was glad that Randi saw fit to leave her lips and nails bare. Of course, she and Jenny wore too many sets of earrings. And like his sister, Jenny sported tattoos. If Randi had any, they weren’t visible.
He didn’t even want to recall the argument he’d had with Felicity the evening he’d come home from a road trip and discovered her first tattoo. Had his failure to understand her need to look bizarre been the beginning of their estrangement? He erased that thought from his mind and returned to his evaluation of Randi. Why had she landed on his doorstep, instead of on her way to being a new soap or big-screen movie star?
Because she was short? About five-three. Otherwise she had that look producers liked. And she walked as if she owned the world. Linc would bet his bottom dollar that before Randi whatever-the-hell-her-last-name-was ended up living on the street, she’d known a better life, too.
“Are you changing your mind about going to town, Mr. Parker?”
Jerked back from his meandering thoughts, Linc all but snapped at Jenny. “No, I haven’t changed my mind. And, Randi, start writing that damned list, okay? Here, take my pen,” he said roughly, extending one he yanked from his shirt pocket. “Tear a piece of paper off one of the hundreds of grocery sacks piled around here. Jeez, add all this junk to what we found in the bedrooms and it’s a miracle the place didn’t burn down. Come to think of it, I want a lot of answers from Oasis.”
Miranda, who had no idea what she’d said or done to bring a return of Parker’s bad humor, immediately set about starting a list.
And this time Linc lost no time in stomping out.
He should’ve guessed Wolfie would be next to object to his proposal.
“Hana and me ain’t goin’ nowhere,” the boy declared flatly, not caring that the older kids were already moving toward the door.
“Mind telling me why?” Linc inquired mildly.
“’Cause you’ll make all nice, and then take off and leave us there. You think I’m stupid, mister?”
“Good grief. You have a wild imagination. I already explained that you’ll have a home here until I can get in touch with the area’s new social worker. Not only that, I intend to grill her about a system that leaves children living in squalor.”
“Yeah, I know that’s what you said. But you don’t want us. We’re—” the boy screwed up his face and hesitated “—we’re a comp…comp—something I heard the fat dude say.”
“Watch who you’re calling fat.” Shawn’s face erupted in fury as everyone swung toward him. “So shoot me for thinking the kid had left the room before I said those little farts were a complication for you, Parker. They are. I didn’t say anything that’s not true.” He thrust his jaw out pugnaciously.
“Are not…whatever you said!” Wolfie yelled, descending on Shawn with fists flying and teeth bared.
“Are, too,” Shawn shot back, holding the wiry boy off with a stiff arm.
“All right! Enough!” Flinging out his own hand, Linc hooked Wolfie around the waist and easily dangled the fist-swinging boy three feet off the ground. “Hold on there, pardner. Remember what I told you earlier about biting not being how men solve things?”
For a few seconds, Wolfie actually looked chastened. “You didn’t say nothin’ about kickin’ or hittin’.”
“I didn’t then, but I am now. And, Shawn, I don’t want any pissing contests going on, understand?” Linc leveled a stern glare at the older boy as he turned Wolfie loose. “Everyone, go climb into my SUV. You’ll have to keep quiet during the drive so that on the way to town, I can tell you my house rules.”
Shawn led the charge to the door. He stopped and said to Linc, “The kid calls me a fat dude again and I’ll kick his ass.”
Linc took a moment to study the unkempt overweight teen with a face full of zits. Cutting through the bluster, it wasn’t hard to see the unhappy boy underneath. “Look, Shawn. I know the kid’s abrasive, and you’re tired. We all have our hot buttons. I’m not planning to implement a lot of rules. But number one is respect. Respect for the other guy’s person and his space. The rules apply equally across the board. Anyone who can’t live with them can hit the road.”
Shawn nodded shortly and stalked out.
Linc eyed the next two boys getting ready to pass him. Eric and Greg. They hunched over their packs. Eric clutched a guitar case, while Greg carried a narrower case that obviously held a keyboard.
“No need to lug that stuff along. We’ll only be gone one night. And I’m locking the house.”
Greg leaned his keyboard up against the couch. Eric elbowed him sharply. “Me and the guys don’t go nowhere without the tools of our trade, man.”
“Tools of your trade?” Linc all but sneered. “Like you’re such frigging successes.”
Miranda sensed a fight in the making. And although it’d suit her if music was downplayed here at the retreat, she’d had her fill of bickering. In an effort to distract the participants, she tucked Scraps inside her partially buttoned jacket and stepped between the combatants. “Do you think they’ll mind if I have a dog in the motel?”
Linc’s eyes shifted away from the hostile kid with the awful dreadlocks. He wasn’t at all prepared to see that scruffy dog nestled against his young charge’s generous breasts. For a moment, his tongue tangled with his teeth. What came out sounded like a stutter.
Randi waited, not sure what Parker was trying to say.
“Hell, take the dog! Take everything,” he finally managed to spit out. Afraid he was in deep trouble when it came to playing houseparent to this particular group, Linc put some space between himself and Randi. He waved a hand toward the open door, through which the heavyset boy had already disappeared.
Linc disliked starting his new endeavor by losing control. Especially since turning a blind eye and deaf ear to Felicity’s behavior had been his big mistake. One he didn’t intend to repeat. But maybe after a meal and a good night’s sleep, he’d be on more certain footing.
Pocketing his house key, he made directly for the driver’s door of the Excursion. He veered off course when it appeared no one was helping Cassie. Linc lifted her out of her wheelchair and set her gently down in the middle row of seats, buckling her in. He folded her pathetically small chair, then went around and tucked it in the space behind the last row of seats. Wondering what had caused her condition, he slammed the door and returned to watch as the others climbed inside.
Earlier, when he’d convinced Wolfie to leave the bunkhouse, Linc had considered that his first small victory. But now, as Eric knocked into him with his guitar case, determined to sit in the very back of the big SUV, Linc tasted the bile of defeat. He foresaw his tussle with Eric as the first of many. After learning these kids were bent on becoming rock stars, the way his sister had, he could no longer stand the thought of listening to their music. John Montoya had intimated Linc was deluding himself to think he had a prayer of guiding kids like these away from the fickle field of music or acting into other less risky pursuits. Once again, Linc was afraid he’d been right.
After they were all seated in the SUV, Greg demanded a rundown of Linc’s rules. Eric dissented loudly at Linc’s order that they needed to buckle their seat belts or the Excursion wasn’t going anywhere.
“Wearing seat belts isn’t my rule.” Linc raised his voice over their grumbling. “It’s California state law. And while I’m in charge, we will obey the laws of the land.” He segued right into his vision for the group. “Being law-abiding citizens is in sync with my idea of rules to live by. I assume you’re all too young to drink alcohol and buy cigarettes. Weed and other drugs are against the law. Those head my list. It goes without saying that I expect everyone to pitch in with the chores. I’m not going to harp at you or mete out punishment. Shirkers will, however, get privileges taken away. That’s about the extent of my rules for the moment, especially since we already touched on respecting the personal privacy of your neighbors.”
Jenny let silence settle inside the vehicle before she spoke. “What kind of chores, Mr. Parker? I already told Randi I can’t cook.”
