The Forgotten Daughter

“Ain’t that the truth,” Scooter mumbled under his breath.

“You dating Josie?” Brock asked.

“Nope.”

When Scooter didn’t elaborate, Brock said, “I guess I assumed you were when Roger called you and her over with the rest of us.”

“I was just standing next to her,” Scooter explained. “A case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Brock grinned. “If you say so.”

“I say so, all right,” Scooter said, withholding the truth. Trying to keep Josie from being shipped to some foreign land came nowhere near dating her. Changing the subject, he asked, “When are you heading back to Chicago?”

“Monday,” Brock said. “Want to spend some time with my mom and dad tomorrow.”

That reminded Scooter of another case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Last year Brock’s dad had been shot while delivering milk down in St. Paul. A raid had been happening nearby and the bullet that struck Rodney Ness had left the man paralyzed from the waist down.

“Ma said he’s been getting out a lot more lately,” Brock said. “Says that wheelchair has made all the difference.”

Scooter guessed it wasn’t so much the chair that made the real difference for Rodney as the fact Brock had bought it with earnings he’d made by singing on the radio. He figured Brock knew that, as well. Rodney Ness couldn’t stop talking about his radio-star son.

They conversed a bit longer, about nothing in particular. All the while, both of them kept sending curious glances toward the door. When Ginger appeared by herself, Brock grinned while Scooter frowned.

“I can’t find her anywhere,” Ginger said. “Norma Rose will be furious. She said none of us could win the prize, that wouldn’t look right, but we all have to participate in the contest.”

“That didn’t stop her from winning the last dance-off,” Scooter said, when really he wanted to ask Ginger where she’d looked. The place was massive, with three stories covered in inch-thick red carpet, varnished oak wainscoting and stair rails, and velvet curtains covering more windows than a man could count. It was a palace in comparison to his humble home, and Josie had to be in there somewhere.

“You know Norma Rose,” Ginger said.

Not as well as he knew Josie. Unable to stop himself, he asked, “You checked everywhere for Josie?”

“Yes,” Ginger answered. “The offices, the bedrooms, the kitchen.”

“Maybe they went out another door,” Brock suggested.

Scooter spun around to stare at the garage full of cars, all owned by Roger. Surely he’d have heard if one had started. “You look ’round the back,” he said. “I’ll go out front.”

Brock grabbed his arm before Scooter had taken more than a step. “What do you know that we don’t?”

Scooter was sick of lying, but didn’t have much choice. “Nothing. Other than the wrath of Norma Rose.”

Brock’s gaze said he didn’t believe that, but his friend must have chosen not to say more in front of Ginger.

“Bring her straight to the dance floor if you find her,” Ginger said. “We’ll do the same.”

Scooter didn’t bother answering and kicked his feet into a sprint. The garage was full, every car in its place, including Josie’s red-and-black coupe. Walter, another one of Roger’s men, was there.

“Have you seen Josie?” Scooter asked.

The portly man dropped the book he’d been reading and leaped up from his chair just inside the door. “No, why? What’s happened?”

Scooter attempted to disguise a bit of his distress. “Nothing,” he said, heading for Josie’s car. Unlatching the hood, he lifted it and reached in to disconnect the ignition wire. Closing the hood, he told Walter, “I’m making sure it stays that way. Don’t tell her I was here.”

Walter lifted a brow.

“Trust me.” Walking out of the open doorway, Scooter spun around. “Don’t let her in another car, either.”

“I’ll pull the keys,” Walter said, “but does Roger know?”

“There’s no place she needs to go today,” Scooter said. “Roger will agree with that.” Turning around, he headed for the front door of the resort. Cars of all makes and models filled the parking lot. Some he recognized as belonging to regular customers, others he’d never seen before. Josie could jump in and drive away in any number of them; more than half had the keys sticking in the ignition.

Scooter shook his head as he entered the resort’s double front doors. Someday people would learn to take their keys with them. Car theft didn’t happen in these parts, but someday it would.

He checked the offices, the ballroom, the kitchen and storerooms, along with every other door he came upon before taking the back staircase to the second floor. Halfway down the hall he came to a heavy door that obviously separated family rooms from the rest of the guest rooms.

Opening and closing doors, he concluded whose room was whose by the colors of the walls. Pink for Ginger, red for Norma Rose, green for Twyla and white for Josie. The rooms were empty and he didn’t bother checking the third floor. Josie wouldn’t be up there.

Scooter jogged back down the hall and the staircase that led into the ballroom. Then, with his footsteps echoing, he crossed the floor and passed the empty bar to exit the building onto the balcony. Searching for a pond-green dress, he found Twyla and Norma Rose, and then Ginger, although the youngest sister was wearing a red polka-dot dress. But there was no sign of Josie. His mother, however, was standing next to the cake table on the far side of the dance floor.

“Hello, Eric,” she greeted him as he arrived at her side. “I’m getting Jonas another piece of cake. He’s certainly enjoying the day.”

His nephew was usually at the top of Scooter’s list, but even Jonas had to take second place right now. “Where’s Josie?” Scooter asked. “And don’t tell me you don’t know. Gloria ushered her into the house.” Adding gravity to his tone, he added, “To talk.”

His mother opened her mouth, but closed it as she glanced around. When she turned back to him, she leaned closer to whisper, “This is none of your affair, Eric.”

This was the woman who’d given birth to him and kept him alive through those days when food was short and heat almost nonexistent, yet, at this moment, she was nothing more than a barrier. “Where is she, Mother? Today is not a day to send her off on one of your missions. I won’t put up with it and neither will Roger.”

Startled to the point her slice of cake toppled off the plate in her hand, she asked, “You haven’t told him, have you?”

Scooter didn’t answer, just stared her down.

One of the many girls hired to keep guests happy by serving glasses of their choice and keeping the place neat and tidy appeared with a new slice of cake on a clean plate. She took the plate from his mother’s hand and, after scooping the cake off the ground, the girl disappeared just as quickly as she’d come.

Thankfully, for he didn’t want a family showdown in the middle of the party, his mother realized how serious he was.

“She’s with Gloria. In the Willow.”

All of the resort’s twenty cabins along the shoreline were named, and he knew the Willow was settled between two large willow trees among the north set of cabins. Spinning around and forcing his feet to move at a normal pace in order to not draw attention to himself, Scooter headed toward the pathway that led to the cabins. All the while, his heart rate increased.

Once the trees hid him from most of the partygoers, he increased his speed. His mind raced, too, telling him over and over that he shouldn’t have let Josie out of his sight. That had been his plan and he should have stuck to it. Shortly after collecting her from Duluth, a truck driver with a flat tire had pulled into his station. The truck was from the huge US Steel plant in Duluth. While working on the tire, Scooter had mentioned he’d recently been in Duluth. The man asked if he’d visited the docks and the girls there. With a few innocent-sounding questions, Scooter had learned all sorts of information from that truck driver and none of it was anything Josie should be involved in.

Upon arrival at the little green-and-white cabin, he leaped up the two steps and threw open the door.

Gloria was still jumping up from a chair at the table when Scooter slammed the door shut behind him. “Where’s Josie?”

A single glance toward the bedroom door told him all he needed to know.

“You can’t go in there,” Gloria declared, as he started in direction of the door.

“You can’t stop me.” He was already pushing open the door, and what he saw not only stopped him in his tracks, but it also sent his temper soaring. “Get your dress back on.”

* * *

Josie finished buttoning the top of her white blouse before spinning around. A combination of anger and relief surged across her stomach. Going with anger, she planted her hands on the waistband of her dungarees. “I will not.”

“Yes, you will.”

“No, I won’t.” This sounded a lot like the conversation she’d had with Gloria a short time ago. That argument she’d lost. This one, she wouldn’t. Scooter had no say in what she did or when she did it, and it was beyond time he realized that.

He strode forward. “You either change back into your dress, or I will.”

“Go ahead,” she said. “It’s an ugly dress, but I doubt it’ll fit you.”

The anger in his eyes was enough to make her flinch, but he didn’t notice her reaction, not with Gloria storming into the room.

“Eric, this is none of your business,” the woman insisted. “Now leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, “and neither is Josie.”

Josie had half a mind to tell him he was wasting his breath, but some people just had to learn that on their own. She had learned it years ago. Offering an opinion when no one was willing to listen was as useless as raking leaves during a storm.

“Do you honestly think she can sneak away on one of your missions today?” he was asking Gloria. “The entire family is looking for her. The dance-off is about to start, and Roger wants her on the floor along with her sisters—

Gloria frowned. “What dance-off?”

Since the doctor was now looking her way, Josie answered, “It’s for the guests.”

“Not just for the guests,” Scooter said none too quietly. “Your sisters say it can’t start until you’re there.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Gloria asked.

Josie wanted to scream. She had told Gloria sneaking away today would be too difficult, but when it came to her cause, Gloria dismissed any obstacles in her way. Normally, Josie did, too, but today things just hadn’t felt right. Hence the relief at Scooter’s arrival that softened her spine. She wouldn’t tell anyone, or let it show, but the thought of traveling to Duluth today frightened her. In all honesty, the past couple of missions had scared her—ever since she’d been arrested for speeding.

“You must have known about it,” Scooter said to Gloria. “It’s been in all the advertisements about the party.”

“Blast it,” Gloria said as she took to pacing the floor. “With Francine Wilks and her number one henchman here, we have a chance of discovering where those girls are.”

Josie flinched, and noted how Scooter noticed this time. He was sharp, and Gloria should have realized how much information her babbling was giving away. Then again, Gloria was no fool, and most likely knew exactly what she was doing. To be fair, Scooter probably knew that, too.

He took Gloria’s arm with one hand and pointed at the pea-green dress with the other. “Put that back on,” he said, while pulling the other woman to the door. “And be quick about it.”

Josie feared quick wouldn’t be quick enough. It would still give Scooter time to question Gloria about their activities. Francine Wilks had a warehouse in Duluth where she kept girls “that weren’t ready,” as the madam had put it. Francine didn’t mind her working girls receiving the free condoms Josie passed out along the waterfront, but the woman didn’t let anyone near her captives.

Scooter didn’t need to know any of that. Josie headed for the door as he pulled it closed, and she grabbed the knob before the door shut.

“You can leave, Scooter.” Josie knew he wouldn’t leave just because she told him to. “Please go tell my sisters I’ll be right there. I don’t want them looking for me.”

“I’ll wait,” he said. “Deliver you to the dance floor myself.”

“That won’t be necessary,” she said.

“It won’t be necessary for me to put that dress back on you, either,” he said staunchly, “but if you don’t hurry up, I will.”

“Hurry up, Josie,” Gloria said. “I’ll keep Scooter company while you change.”

That was exactly what she didn’t want to happen. She didn’t need Scooter learning more than he already knew about her Tuesday adventures. He’d never understand.

“Are you waiting for help?” he asked.

“No,” she snapped.

“Then get dressed.”

Josie slammed the door. Maybe he and Gloria should pair up and leave her completely out of things. It had gotten to be more than she’d bargained for lately.

Her anger melted away like the swan-shaped ice sculpture near the fountain. The ice had yielded to the sun before Twyla and Forrest’s wedding, and now Josie had to yield, too, to the truth that things had only become more than she’d bargained for because of her.

The rules were that she passed out condoms and brought back any bits of information she gathered. However, when one of Francine’s girls had told Josie about the warehouse, she’d had to investigate. One of the guards had seen her sneaking around and had given chase. Afraid her little car couldn’t outrun his larger one, she’d taken the road that led directly past the police station, hoping an officer would see her speeding by.

One had.

She’d been arrested.

And she’d called Scooter to come and get her.

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