Take a Chance On Me

Chapter 10 I Feel for You

"What are you, friggin' nuts?" Stephano's laugh nearly shook the picture frames off his desk. "You want me to authorize the payment of eight thousand dollars to a pet psychic?"

"For God's sake, Vinny-I said psychiatrist, not psychic!" Thomas looked to his captain, then Lieutenant Regina Massey, then back to his boss. "She's a doctor of veterinary medicine who specializes in animal behavior. It's a new and very specialized field of study."

"Uh-huh." The captain's eyes glazed over. "You know, Tobin, I think I'd have a better chance of justifying eight grand so me and the wife could go to Bermuda and sit around drinking banana daiquiris. The answer would have to be no."

"Then I'll pay her myself."

In truth, it was a possibility Thomas had already considered. He owed Slick everything he could do for him. Besides, he saw it as an investment in his future-his future with Emma.

"So would that be a problem? Kind of like my own private consultant?"

Stephano's two eyebrows bunched together over the bridge of his nose until they formed a unibrow of thick, black consternation. "What? Are you doing her or something?"

Thomas straightened in his chair. "Jesus, Vinny. You're a pig."

Stephano's expression relaxed. "Oh. She's an ugly pet psychic."

"No!" Thomas shot up out of his chair, then sat back down, bewildered by his own behavior and painfully aware of Reg's amused expression.

He rubbed a hand over his mouth. "Look. She's a lovely lady and she's damn smart and she thinks there's a chance we can get Slick's dog to tell us what he knows about the murder."

The captain smiled with sudden understanding. "Oh, I think I've got it now-a 'Ruh-roh-Shaggy' Scooby-Doo thing, right?"

Massey and Stephano cracked up.

Thomas knew going in thatthis wouldn't be easy. He was prepared for this. He took a deep breath.

"The dog was there. He's, the only material witness we have." Thomas ignored the ongoing laughter. "The dog probably saweverything, heard everything, smelled everything. We just need to find a way to find out whathe knows. Dr. Jenkins can do that."

Regina cleared her throat before she spoke inthat smooth, hot-chocolate voice of hers. "All right, counselor." She grinned at Thomas. "Let's just say your pretty Dr. Dolittle can perform this miracle. But just think for a minute-how in heaven's name can we introduce any of it as evidence? Are we going to put the puppy on the stand? Have him put his paw on the Bible and swear to tell the truth so help him…"-she started to snicker-"dog?"

"Very funny, Reg." Thomas had to wait a moment for the guffaws to die down. "Work with me here-you got witnesses lining up and begging to talkto you about the Slick homicide?"

"No," she said, giving him the look he knew from experience translated into smartass. She sighed. "The three other residents in the building were at work. Nobody in the area saw or heard anything."

"All right." Thomas felt he was getting somewhere. "So, what if the dog can lead us to someone-something-that is admissible in a court of law? What if he can narrow it down enough that we get a break in the case?"

"It's still a lot of money out of your pocket." She cocked her head and frowned. "You still think you're responsible for Slick's death, Tommy?"

He hissed. "There's a good chance I am."

Thomas left his chair and retreated to the window. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked out over the lush green lawn of the state police headquarters.

After a quick glance back at Stephano, he said, "I forced the guy to stay in the game when he wanted out-a few days later, he got himself killed."

"But his murder may have had nothing to do with him being an informant," Regina said. "We're still pursuing the domestic dispute angle."

"But there's a chance it was related to his being my informant." Thomas spun on his heels to face Regina. "What if the real reason he wanted out was that he feared for his life? What if someone had found out what he was doing for us and started blackmailing him?"

After a moment, Thomas returned to his chair and sat down heavily. He rested his elbows on his knees and looked up at Regina.

"So, yeah, Reg-it's worth itto me. You know my dad left behind a decent estate and that I'm no slouch when it comes to the market. I won't miss the money. It's the least I can do for Slick. He was a decent guy…"-Thomas looked down at his hands-"and the best informant the team ever had."

Regina smiled wistfully. "Must be nice to be able to throw away a wad of cash like that."

"It won't be thrown away."

"Okay. Fine." Stephano waved his hand around impatiently. "I don't see how it would violate departmental policy, but Jesus, Tobin, you don't usually do crazy shit like this."

Thomas smiled. "Tell me about it."

Emma canceled her afternoon appointments and was home by one-thirty. She gulped down a peanut-butter sandwich and a glass of milk, changed into her riding pants, pulled on her boots, and headed out to the barn to tack up the horses. She'd take Vesta, of course, and Leelee would ride good old Bud, a twenty-year-old Quarter Horse so laid-back that he could be ridden safely through a cruise missile attack. Bud usually had a calming effect on Vesta, and Emma was hoping that today he'd mellow out Leelee as well.

The girl had locked herself in her room last night and was still furious in the morning. As Beckett blithely threw waffles into the toaster and hummed to the oldies radio station, Leelee and Emma engaged in a tense standoff over the breakfast table.

Leelee's expression-the few times she even acknowledged Emma's presence-was sharp and accusatory. Emma knew her own face must have broadcast all the guilt she felt.

What had she been thinking, making out with Thomas like a horny teenager? She'd been thinking nothing, obviously. Thinking had nothing to do with what happened last night with Thomas-it was all impulse and instinct and animal lust.

Lust the likes of which she hadn't even known was possible.

So Leelee continued the silent treatment all morning, her mouth pulled in a thin white line of disapproval as she went about her routine. The performance reminded Emma of the way Thomas had looked the day they'd met.

This afternoon's plan to get Leelee to open up wasn't particularly original, but it stood a decent chance of working. She'd wait for Leelee at the bus stop with the horses. She'd take the girl's backpack and give her a leg up on Bud, not allowing her a moment to escape.

Then they'd ride down to the creek. They'd talk. They'd hash it out. And they'd have themselves some damn quality time whether Leelee wanted it or not!

Emma waited at the end of the lane, keeping Vesta calm with gentle murmurs as Bud stood next to them like he didn't have a care in the world-probably because he didn't. Bud had lived a fine life for a horse. He'd been a colt when he arrived at the farm twenty summers ago, Emma's birthday present the year her mother died. From the moment she laid eyes on him, Emma knew the chestnut horse with the soulful eyes was special. And he'd proceeded to ease her sorrow, loosen the knot in her heart, just by being who he was.

Bud had introduced Emma to the magical bond that can grow between companion animal and human being. Bud had been her inspiration for doing what she did for a living. Bud had been her rock.

She glanced over at the horse and he nickered, just as a flash of bright yellow moved through the trees. The diesel brakes whined and hissed as the bus came to a slow stop at the mailbox.

"You're on, Bud," Emma whispered to the horse, watching Leelee descend the steps. "Do your stuff."

Leelee was already scowling as her feet hit the gravel. She swung her backpack over one shoulder and shook her head, silently saying no to whatever Emma had planned.

Emma waited for the bus to leave before she dismounted from Vesta, flipping the reins over the split-rail fence. She brought Bud forward and held out her free hand for Leelee's backpack. "We'll leave this here." She tossed the bag against the fence.

Leelee put on her utterly bored face and crossed her arms over her chest. "Let me guess-we're going to get in touch with our inner goddesses while communing with nature."

Emma couldn't help but laugh. The fact was, Leelee was a riot-pessimistic and surly, yes-but a riot all the same. She reminded her of Thomas.

"What I'd like is for you to get your little boo-tocks in touch with this saddle, please." Emma locked her fingers together and smiled at Leelee, waiting to give her a leg up. "Come on, Lee. It's just a ride. Besides, I know how much you want to go out and check on Mr. Martin's corn crop."

The jaded pre-teen mask fell away from Leelee's face, and she started to giggle. With a sigh she headed toward Bud, stopping to stroke his thick neck and accept his wet kisses. Then she placed her Dr. Martens boot into Emma's cupped hands and popped into the saddle.

"Okay. So where are we off to?"

It took a moment for Emma to mount Vesta -she was a moving target-but soon they were on their way down the lane, side by side at an easy walk.

"I thought we'd go over through the old Weaverton property and down to the creek, then back up along the Martins' field to the woods. Sound like a plan?"

Leelee remained quiet for a moment. Then she said, "I suppose you're going to talk to me about that man."

Emma risked a glimpse at Leelee. She was sitting rigid in her saddle, her gaze straight ahead, the afternoon sun glinting in the honey-gold twists of her hair.

"His name is Thomas."

"Thomas the Tongue," she said wearily. "I suppose he's the flower guy?"

"Yes."

"Are we going to talk about sex now?" With that question, Leelee swung her face to look at Emma, and her mouth was clenched tight, her eyes were hard and her cheeks pink.

"Would you like to talk about sex?"

"No, I would not. I'd prefer a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy with you, if you don't mind-you know, a nice change of pace from Mom. Besides, it's none of my business."

Emma let that comment sink in for a moment and weighed the possible responses. She wanted to do this right, this whole parental guidance and open communication thing. But what was right? This was one of those moments when she wished Leelee had come with an owner's manual.

"In a way, you're correct-it's not your business. But I told you I wouldn't make any decisions without you."

Leelee let loose with a snort of disgust. "Really? Looks like you were making decisions just fine on your own last night."

Emma didn't know what to say.

"And did you check out the guy's dog? It was totally woo-woo-like a midget hyena in a sweater. I'd give anything to have a dog like that-it was the funkiest thing I've ever seen. A little bit of L.A. right here in Mayberry, RFD."

Leelee's words hit Emma with a thud. When had Leelee seen Hairy? How long had she been standing at the door?

"How long were you watching us?"

"Long enough to see you work it, girl."

"That's enough, Leelee." Emma didn't know whether to slap her or pull her close and try to kiss away all the pain-twelve years of accumulated insecurity and loneliness-and that was the central challenge of Leelee. Yet another human being with a case of fear-based aggression. It reminded her of Thomas.

And then it dawned on her. She looked over at the young woman and nearly laughed out loud at the resemblance. Tall, golden, smart, funny, pessimistic, sad-if it weren't for the fact that Thomas had never met Rebecca Weaverton, Emma would be certain she'd uncovered the secret of Leelee's paternity.

Or maybe he had met Becca…

Leelee shot her a suspicious glance. "What?"

"I don't know-nothing, I guess."

"What, Emma? You're giving me this totally weird look."

She shook her head and chuckled. "I like him, Lee. That's what I was thinking. I've decided I like Thomas Tobin."

Leelee said nothing for several long minutes, as they headed toward the old Weaverton place. They rode in silence along the line of pine trees.

"Does he like you?"

Emma smiled a little. "Yeah, I think so."

"Well, he's a hottie, that's for sure."

"Really?" Emma was a bit surprised by that assessment.

"Definite babe material-if you're into old guys with woo-woo dogs."

They took a break down by the creek. Leelee sprawled on the grass while Emma secured the horses, pulled out juice boxes and granola bars from her fanny pack, and plopped down beside her.

"Refreshment, ma'am?"

Leelee looked up and smiled. "Why yes, thank you," she said primly, piercing the waxed cardboard with the straw. She took a long sip. "A lovely vintage."

Emma grinned at her and leaned back on her hands.

"This is nice, Emma. I'm glad you took me on a ride." Leelee was quiet while she concentrated on removing the granola wrapper. "And I'm sorry I clammed up on you this morning. I acted like a total jerk."

The words flowed over Emma like a warm breeze, and she sighed quietly. With this adjustment in Leelee's mood, it was time to clear the air.

"I'm trying to be a good mom, Leelee."

The girl's head popped up, alert to the serious tone in Emma's voice. "I know you are."

"It's difficult sometimes. I'm learning as I go."

Leelee shrugged and took another sip. "I know."

"So I want you to know that I don't enjoy having to say this."

Leelee frowned and looked around like she'd missed something. "Say what?"

"That I'm angry with you." Emma sat up straight and turned to face Leelee. "That it was inappropriate for you to watch me with Thomas last night-it was an invasion of my privacy and I don't want it to happen again." Emma paused, gulping down enough air to continue. "And I expect you to speak to me with respect-always. I love joking around with you, Lee, but I sure didn't appreciate the comment you made about me 'working it.' Or the name you gave Thomas. You went over the line."

Leelee's mouth fell open. She dropped the granola bar to the ground.

"I meant it when I told you I'd never make any major decisions without consulting you. But the thing is, I'm an adult woman. And I get lonely sometimes. And I may want to start something with someone at some point-maybe Thomas, I'm not sure-and you'll have to find a way to understand that if it happens."

Leelee said nothing.

"There may even be times when I'll have Thomas or another man over to the house, and Iexpect you to treat them with respect as well."

Leelee's sob cut through the quiet air. She was on her feet before she realized she was moving, walking away, fast, toward the water.

This isn't happening. This isn't happening.

Emma jumped up to follow her. "Leelee, please look at me."

Her ears were buzzing and the tears made her eyes sting, but it was her chest and throat that hurt the most-a kind of squeezing ache, like a fist clenching around nothing, but still clutching, grabbing, gripping the emptiness inside her until it burned.

"Sweetheart."

"Sometimes, in the mornings, they'd still be wasted, you know?" Leelee was embarrassed to hear her voice come out in such a tiny whine, like she was five years old or something. "Sometimes I'd be getting ready for school and they'd be doing it in the kitchen and I couldn't get any cereal."

Emma thought she would die. Right there.

She raised her hands and pressed them softly to the narrow shoulders in front of her, feeling every bone in Leelee's body shake.

Damn Becca.

"The most psycho part of it was that I hated all those men-really hated them-but that didn't stop me from pretending that they might be my dad. It's so weird to walk around every day and not know who your dad is, Emma."

Leelee felt Emma's hands on her head, stroking, holding, and she leaned into the warm touch.

"I'd see men walking around L.A. and I'd stare at them-construction workers, suits, slackers, every different kind of man imaginable-and I'd look for someone with my color eyes or the same shaped jaw. It was totally lame, I know."

"No, sweetheart. It wasn't."

Leelee laughed bitterly. "And I used to see these dads with their daughters, you know, at places like the mall and the movies and stuff, and I used to get all creeped out by it. It was like I didn't really believe the guys loved those girls just because they were their daughters. I was always looking for proof that there was some other gross reason they wanted to be with them-a sexual reason-because it's all I'd ever seen a man be."

The tears were rolling down Emma's face now.

"The weirdest thing of all is, unless he's dead, there's some man out there right now who might be able to love me just because he's my dad, you know? But I'll never know who he is. I'll never know what it feels like to be loved like that."

Leelee let her face fall into her hands. And in the privacy of her own palms, standing by the creek next to a soybean field, she screamed at the top of her lungs the one thing she'd always longed to say: "It's not fair and I hate her for it!"

Emma lost track of time. She'd collapsed to the bank of the creek and let Leelee fall across her lap and cry. And she'd cried and cried-and Emma joined her-until the sun started to set and Vesta was a nervous wreck. Emma knew they had to head back.

They were quiet on the ride home, and Emma let Leelee be in control of what they talked about. Emma never guessed that Becca was that far gone, but Leelee said there'd been at least a couple men each week.

She hadn't known. She hadn't known!

She'd been in Philadelphia in vet school and Becca was in Los Angeles runing her baby girl's life!

"It's nice to have Beckett, though,"Leelee finally said, smiling.

Emma felt drained, her joints loose, and near tears again. But she managed to smile back. "He loves you just for being you-the same way he's always loved me. You know that, don't you?"

She nodded shyly. "Yeah. I think he's pretty cool, too, but…"

"But he's not your dad."

Leelee nodded.

They came within sight of the barn, and Vesta began to fidget. Emma was concentrating so hard on calming her that she almost didn't hear Leelee speaking.

"… so I'd like to get to know him."

Emma looked over and brought the horse to a stop. "What, honey? I didn't hear you."

Leelee rolled her eyes heavenward and groaned. "I said, I know you're not like my mom when it comes to guys. I know you haven't had any kind of, you know, relations with a man since you sent Aaron packing. And I know Thomas the Tongue-whoops, just Thomas-must be special. So what I said was"-Leelee nervously brought her gaze to Emma's face-"that I'd like to meet him. Get to know him. Junk like that."