Once a Family

“WHERE’S MY SISTER?” Tanner approached the woman with the thick blond hair sitting at the corner table in an upscale sandwich shop not far from the corner where Detective Morris had told him Tatum had exited the bus.

Sedona Campbell, she’d said her name was. And that she’d be wearing navy pants and a jacket with a cream-colored blouse.

“She’s fine,” the thirtyish woman said. “She’s with a couple of friends of mine,” she said. “Female friends.”

“Who are you?”

Reaching into her pocket the woman pulled out a business card and placed it on the table.

Sedona Campbell, Attorney at Law

He read the name of her firm, but didn’t take it in. His heart racing, Tanner stood there, trying to slow his mind, to calm the panic.

He was thirty-three, not twenty. He owned a home, a business.

And he was losing control of his baby sister. Cold sweats swept over him. Through him.

“What does she want?” If their mother thought she was going to ride back into their lives and sweep her baby away, she was wrong.

No matter how vulnerable a girl Tatum’s age might be to her mother’s false promises of newfound sobriety. Tanner, Talia and Thomas had heard them all too many times. But Tatum...she’d only been five when she’d last heard from Tammy.

“Have a seat, Mr. Malone.”

Because he was feeling a bit sick, Tanner did as she asked. He’d be fine. He knew the signs of post-stress-induced anxiety. And knew how to overcome them, as well.

The law was on his side. He had to remember that.

“Tell me how much she wants.”

The woman’s creamy white brow furrowed. Who had creamy white skin in California? “I’m sorry?”

“You’re a family lawyer,” he explained slowly. If this lawyer wanted to play games she’d soon find she’d come to the wrong man. He knew all his mother’s tricks. Eventually, he’d grown immune to every one of them.

“That’s right.”

“The only times my family has ever needed a lawyer have been when our mother deigns to make an appearance in our lives.” That was true even before she’d left them for good and given him custody. He’d had to quit school to protect the kids from her—and the court system. Not that anyone needed to know... “Tell me, what’s Tammy said or done to get to Tatum and how much does she want?”

“I don’t know your mother. Or anyone named Tammy.”

Leaning back in his chair Tanner feigned a nonchalance he didn’t feel. He’d learned early on that if he showed a woman weakness she’d use it to wipe her feet. Spreading his hands and then steepling his fingers, he said, “So whatever she’s calling herself this time, how much does she think it’s going to cost her to provide the life my sister needs?”

Because Tammy would never admit the money was for herself. To feed her habits. No, she’d blink those big blue eyes and swear that it was for her children.

She’d tried a few times over the past ten years to extort money from them—from him. Playing on his love for his siblings. But it had been a while since he’d heard from her. Three years. He’d looked it up as soon as Morris had left.The longest she’d ever gone.

Sedona Campbell flicked a strand of really long hair behind her shoulder. A move that accentuated her femininity. And worried him. “Let me get this clear,” she said. “You think someone has your sister?”

It was like a game of chess. He not only had to plan his moves a minimum of three in advance, he had to assess his opponent, to predict what she was thinking and, more important, to ascertain her next moves before making his own.

“Tatum’s a good girl,” he said. “A straight-A student who loves to read. She has an appreciation for antiques and nurtures hurt animals anytime she can sneak one in. She also has no problem speaking her mind. She is not the type of person who would just up and leave on her own.”

“Especially since you’ve made her a virtual prisoner out there on that vineyard of yours.”

“That’s what Tammy told you?”

Ms. Campbell looked at the table. Seeing a chessboard of her own? After a couple of seconds, she glanced back at him. “Let’s get one thing clear, sir. I’ve never met your mother, or anyone else who knows your sister. I am here on Tatum’s behalf. Period.”

A vise descended upon his chest. And he was sweating again. From the inside out. “You want me to believe that my little sister hired a lawyer?”

“Technically she can’t do that without your signature.”

Right. Okay. But... “She sought one out, though?”

“She came to us for help.”

His feet landed flat with a thud as he sat forward and put his arms on the table. “Who is us? Why does Tatum need a lawyer? Where is she?”

He was back to Del Harcourt. This was about that punk kid like he’d originally thought.

But he had the senior Harcourt in his corner. And he’d put his money on the mother standing by whatever Ken Harcourt dictated.

Not that that was necessarily a healthy thing, but it would serve his situation. And theirs was none of his business.

“Your sister is at a women’s shelter.”

Oh, God, no. “Is she all right? Is she hurt?”

“Physically she’s fine. But women, and more particularly teenage girls, don’t turn up at shelters just for fun.”

“The bastard hit her again?”

“You’re saying you didn’t do it?”

Breathe, man. In and out. Relax your chest and breathe. “I didn’t do what?”

“Hit your sister.”

Everything inside Tanner stilled in that moment. His heart. His soul. “Is she saying I did?”

Tatum was pissed at him. But she wouldn’t turn on him. They were tight. More so than the other two. Since the day she was born she’d been his little girl. More daughter than sister. There had to be a misunderstanding. Someone at that shelter, this lawyer perhaps, had listened wrong.

“Are you denying that you hit your sister, Mr. Malone?”

“Hell, yes, I’m denying it!”

“But you knew she’d been hit?” The woman didn’t believe him. Her disdainful tone was enough to tell him that, but the cool look in her eyes was a dead giveaway, too.

“I didn’t know. I suspected. When I asked her about it, she adamantly denied it. She looked me in the eye.”

“And that means something?”

“Tatum has lied to me before, but never while looking me in the eye.”

People milled around them, talking over coffee drinks and eating freshly baked cookies. Scattered about at various tables. Some had computers. Tablets. It was a gathering place.

And it was like Tanner wasn’t even there. He had no sense of reality. No way to wake himself from the nightmare.

“But you saw signs that she’d been hurt? Bruises, perhaps, that she explained away?”

“I grabbed her arm out in the barn when she was trying to run after Harcourt. She flinched. I made her roll up her sleeve. The bruise was faded to yellow, but I was sure I saw the imprint of knuckles. She told me I was crazy. That I see the worst in everything. She said she ran into an antique dresser spindle in the barn.”

“Harcourt? Who’s that?”

“A rich punk she met at a party a couple of months back.”

“I take it you don’t like him.”

He wasn’t all that fond of Tatum’s lawyer, either. She looked good enough to eat and had the mind of a barracuda. “I just told you he hit my sister. What do you think?”

“You allege that he hit your sister. Other than that, has he given you cause to doubt him?”

“He smokes dope. I overheard him trying to convince my fifteen-year-old sister to try it. I suspect he’s trying to get her to sleep with him, too. And he speaks disrespectfully to his perfectly respectable mother.” For starters. “Now...I need to see my sister.” He’d spoken with her on the phone, briefly, when Sedona Campbell had called twenty minutes before to arrange this meeting. Just enough to be satisfied that she was fine, so that he could alert the police.

“I can arrange a meeting, but I need to speak with you first.”

“I believe I’m done talking.”

“I’m under legal obligation to call the police and inform them that your sister, a minor, reported abuse at your hands.”

He had to see Tatum.

Had to slow down. His nerve endings were tripping over themselves.

Outwardly, not a muscle of Tanner’s body moved.

This couldn’t be happening. Didn’t make sense. He’d made a good home for Tatum. A normal home.

“Or we can handle it another way.”

The words were a lifeline. And they told him she was working him. Either she was under a legal obligation or she wasn’t. If she had to report him, how could they handle it any other way?

She was the lawyer. She’d know. And she’d figure that he might not.

Eyes narrowing, he watched her. Skipping his next move to wait for hers. Any other time he might have enjoyed the game. But not now, with Tatum’s life in the balance.

“Tatum would like to stay at The Lemonade Stand, at least for the night, and for longer if that can be arranged.”

“My sister has a home.” And, as her legal guardian, he had rights and obligations, too.

“She claims that it’s an abusive one.”

“Just because she claims it―” which he didn’t buy “―doesn’t make it so.”

While he couldn’t believe Tatum would accuse him of something so heinous, so life changing, he couldn’t figure out why this lawyer woman would be lying to him. Unless she’d lied about her client, too. Unless his mother really was involved.

And wanted Tatum.

To sell her for drug money? Or have her go to work so Tammy could stay home with her latest dealer and get high? Stay high?

When people first met Tammy they fell for her vulnerable victim act. Maybe this Sedona Campbell was in the still-believing stage of knowing his mother. Maybe she thought she was fighting for the lives of a helpless woman and her child.

So maybe Tammy had concocted the abuse story and not Tatum. Calming a bit as he thought things through, Tanner figured he’d come upon the more likely scenario. Tatum, and this lawyer, too, were pawns in Tammy’s game.

“I’m assuming, since you didn’t immediately report me to the police, that you have some doubts about my...sister’s...story.” Tammy’s story, he was pretty convinced now.

The woman―a looker, he couldn’t deny that―sized him up. And seemed to be considering him as strongly as he’d been considering her. Because he was right? She had doubts?

Did that mean, if he handled this right, she could become an ally?

“I’m interested in what’s best for Tatum.”

Not really an answer to his question, but it was enough.

“I’m willing to listen to what you have to say,” he told her. He could listen for as long as it took.

And then take his baby sister home.

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