A Family of Her Own (Dundee, Idaho #3)(65)
Author: Brenda Novak

Her mother tapped her own chest, as though she was finding it difficult to breathe. “But…but what about Mike? I’ve been hoping the two of you would get together. You’re perfect for each other. His mother told me before you had the baby that he’s interested in you. Can you imagine? The man you’ve always wanted is interested in you after everything that’s happened? How many men would be that open-minded?”

Mike was wonderful. Katie didn’t know how she would’ve gotten through the last few weeks without his friendship and support. He was definitely her childhood ideal. But her heart belonged to Booker.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” she said. “I know you and Dad don’t like Booker, so—”

“Think of the life you’d lead if you married Mike. Think of the home you’d have, the father he’d be.”

Troy was now crying so loudly that Katie could barely talk over him. She pulled up her shirt and settled him to nurse without sitting down. “I can’t change the way I feel, Mom. I’ve already tried—for more than two years. And I’m right back where I started.”

Tami’s shoulders slumped, making her look older than Katie had ever seen her—old and exhausted. “What am I going to tell your father?”

“Tell him—” she took a deep breath “—why not tell him to have some faith?”

“Faith?”

“In me.”

Her mother stared at her for several long seconds. “Are you sure Booker’s who you want?”

“He’s who I want. That doesn’t mean I’m going to get him. He asked me to marry him once, and I turned him down. I’m not sure I’ll have another chance.”

“I guess there’s hope in that,” Tami said. But she smiled grudgingly when she said it, and Katie couldn’t help laughing.

KATIE WAITED BY THE PHONE that night, hoping Booker would call. She’d left several messages on his answering machine, but now that it was nearly eleven o’clock, she was afraid she wouldn’t hear from him.

Briefly, she considered calling Rebecca. Surely Rebecca would’ve talked to Booker at some point today. Even if she hadn’t, she’d know more about what was going on, from her father or the police. But Katie didn’t have call-waiting and she’d been afraid to use the phone in case Booker tried to reach her. And now it was too late to call Rebecca.

After a long evening that had passed with painful slowness, she placed Troy in his bassinet and took a shower. She let the hot water run over her body, hoping she could relax enough to sleep. But she kept picturing Booker in a jail cell, with Orton telling everyone around town that he’d stolen another car.

Where had that car come from? And why was it hidden on Booker’s property?

She couldn’t answer those questions, but she knew there was an answer. And it wasn’t that Booker had stolen it.

Turning off the water, she stepped out to towel off and realized she’d never be able to sleep without talking to Booker first. She hated to take her son outside while he was still so young. But if she bundled him up, she didn’t see how a little car ride would hurt him.

Once she’d made the decision to go, Katie felt better almost immediately. She’d find Booker, wherever he was, and reassure herself that he was okay. She’d figure out what really happened—and convince others to believe in him as much as she did. And if he was in jail, she’d do what she could to get him out. Lionel & Sons Auto Repair seemed successful, but she didn’t know whether Booker had any money. If he couldn’t make bail, she’d ask Mike to lend her the money.

BOOKER WAS FEELING THE tension of being held at the police station the entire day when the fax they’d been expecting finally arrived. Officer Bennett collected it as soon as the fax machine stopped humming, and carried what looked like two sheets of paper into Chief Clanahan’s office.

The white-haired Clanahan retrieved a pair of reading glasses from his desk. He glanced at Booker, who was sitting across from him, and at Orton, who was standing in the doorway, then perched his glasses on his nose and studied the document.

“Looks as though he’s telling the truth,” he said at last.

The lines in Orton’s forehead deepened into grooves. “So that was Katie’s car we found?”

“She’s not on the title yet, or the registration, either,” Clanahan mused. “Evidently she didn’t take care of any DMV paperwork before she left San Francisco. But the Martins say they sold it to her, and this here looks like a valid Bill of Sale to me. Even her signature is legible.”

If only the Martins had been home to answer the phone earlier, Booker thought. Maybe he’d be on his way by now. But he couldn’t blame them. He should’ve handled his own DMV paperwork and sent in the Certificate of Nonoperation he’d been planning to file.

“Whether the Bill of Sale looks valid or not, I think we should contact Katie and see what she has to say about all this,” Orton said.

Irritation showed on Clanahan’s face. “It’s after eleven o’clock, Orton. I’m not going to call Katie Rogers right now. It would wake her for nothing, and it’d be a waste of our time. If she’d had her car stolen, don’t you think she would’ve reported it?”

Orton moved closer to his boss’s desk. “Probably. But something’s off.”

“What?” Booker demanded, growing impatient after so many hours. “Like I said before, her car broke down before she ever reached town. After I fixed it, she couldn’t pay me. So she gave me the car in trade. I tried to sell it, but it wasn’t generating any interest, so I finally decided it was a waste of space and moved it out of the way. What’s so hard to understand about that?”

Booker knew better than to tell the story as it had really happened. Number one, he’d paid Katie in cash, so he couldn’t prove, without involving her, that money had changed hands. And number two, he knew Orton and the others wouldn’t understand why he’d buy a car only to hide it in a gully.

Bennett was standing at Clanahan’s elbow, his lips pursed as he gazed down at the Bill of Sale. “I saw the car for sale at Booker’s shop,” he said, obviously more convinced by Booker’s story than Orton was. “It sat there for a good coupla weeks, at least.”

“I saw it, too,” Orton said. “But that doesn’t mean he came by it honestly.”