Page 110 of Defenders of Jawhara

Slade had been waiting for money to make an appearance in the conversation. He stiffened, a little disappointed that it had—along with a sad story. Was she expecting him to cry a few tears and pull out his checkbook? He frowned. That second part wasn’t a bad idea. One check to make the problem go away was a good shortcut. Brock wouldn’t have to know about the bullet he’d dodged of dealing with a gold digger out to scam him, and—hopefully—some of the money would be used to help the kid.

“How much do you want?” he asked.

Bethany leaned her hip against the porch railing. “Either I need more of this,” she said, gesturing to the Wild Turkey, “or you’ve had too much. Are you trying to buy me off?”

He put his glass on the tray. It made a soft clink. “To put it bluntly—yes.”

She flashed a quick, humorless smile. “I should make you do it. Make you pay and go away. But that’s not what I want. Weren’t you listening? I’m going to adopt Jason—”

“You just want to make sure Brock doesn’t step in to interfere. You told me that. But if Tayra made you his legal guardian—”

“That’s the problem, right there. Tayra left a hand-written will with no date on it, no witness, and vague instructions. She was…well, let’s be kind and say the drugs weren’t helping her think clearly. I’ve already talked to a probate lawyer. It’ll get sorted out—eventually. I’m about the closest thing Tayra had to next of kin, but—”

“You’re trying to keep Jason out of foster care in the meantime.” The light flashed on in Slade’s head. “The courts might take him into custody, particularly if a legal battle starts up and if there’s money involved.”

Bethany nodded and put her glass down next to his. “You’re starting to get the idea. Jason’s been through enough without…without more. I’m trying to keep his life as normal as I can, but it’s…well, Tayra left a mess behind and while I loved my sister, she was hard to deal with on her good days.”

Leaning back, Slade glanced around. He was pretty sure Bethany wasn’t just talking about a legal mess. Up close he could see that the house was in dire need of repair. The paint peeled and flaked from the siding. One window that he could see sported a jagged crack. The porch sagged, and he could only imagine what it looked like inside. “This was Tayra’s place?”

Bethany nodded. “She saved up and bought it. She also wouldn’t…she hated taking handouts. That’s what she called them. I did what I could for Jason—started a college fund savings account for him, got him stuff for Christmas and his birthdays, took him for vacations and on a lot of weekends, but Tayra…” She let the words drift.

Slade tried to remember more about what Tayra had been like, but it had been almost ten years since he’d last seen her, after their divorce. Prior to that, she’d seemed devoted to Brock. She’d also seemed quiet—like the type of woman any guy ended up wanting to protect and shelter. She’d seemed…well, a little lost, frankly, but that was also part of her charm.

Seemedwas the operative word when it came to Tayra. She’d walked away from Brock and her marriage as if it hadn’t mattered. Slade could remember going after her to try to find out what had happened. He’d never gotten an answer, and he was fairly sure she didn’t have an answer for herself, other than she was unhappy.

He pushed that memory away and made a quick decision. “I need to know more. Let’s have dinner together.”

Bethany blinked and tipped her head to one side. The wind stirred her curls, and Slade wondered if they were as soft as they looked. “What? Wait, how did we get from you writing me a million dollar check to having dinner? Plus, there’s nothing in the fridge to fix.”

“Got a place that delivers? Chinese? Pizza? Who said it’d be a million?”

“You’re offering more? Or less?”

“I’m offering dinner.”

She gave a nod and straightened up. “Joe’s does takeout. Burgers only. But they’re good. Guess if you’re staying, you’d better come in after all.” She picked up the tray. Slade stood, grabbed his jacket, and pulled open the screen door for her. It squeaked on hinges that needed oiling.

Inside, Bethany headed for the kitchen, and he glanced around.

The house had an open floor plan, with the kitchen in back, separated by a counter. An ancient TV sat in one corner of the room, gathering dust. The furniture—a couch, two chairs—had colorful blankets draped over them. He caught a glimpse of frayed threads and decided the throws were there to cover up worn upholstery. But the place was neat and clean.

Wooden floors gleamed. The kitchen looked organized, and the counters swept bare and tidy. No signs of magazines, but a couple of books—one kid’s picture book and three books with mathematical-sounding titles that left his eyes glazing—sat on a coffee table made from a slab of wood.

He followed Bethany into the kitchen. Artwork—Jason’s, he presumed from the crayon images—covered the fridge, held in place with magnets from around the country. He glimpsed the Golden Gate Bridge, the Statue of Liberty, and the Grand Canyon. He touched one. “Tayra travel around?”

Bethany nodded. “A lot. Or she did before…well, before Jason started school but not after the cancer.” She handed him a single-sheet menu. “Pick something out. I’ll have a burger and fries, the junior meal for Jason, and I can recommend the onion rings. Phone number is on there, and since you’ve got the fat checkbook, you can pay.”

Slade smiled but decided that this was not going to be one of his better dates.

* * *

Bethany watched Jason wolf down the last of the fries. He ate like most kids—filling up a hollow leg. She winced at the image. The problem was, Jason did just about have a hollow leg. Or at least a leg that needed to be fixed.

Dangling a fry in front of his mouth, Jason asked, “You knew my mom?”

Jason was getting over his shyness of Slade—fast. He’d gone from wary to chatty as the two guys bonded over burgers. The kitchen smelled of grease from the fast food.

Slade finished his burger and drank some of his soda. The liquid slurped in his straw. He put down the cup and said, “Yeah, I knew her. A long time ago. You play baseball?” Slade gestured to one of the pictures Jason had drawn of a batter.

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