Tomorrow's Sun (Lost Sanctuary) - By Becky Melby Page 0,10
more like Mom with my hair long or short?”
Jake shook his head. “Unfair question. You know I only like long hair. All men prefer long hair.”
“I didn’t ask if I should get it cut. I asked which way I look more like Mom.”
Grasshopper custard dripped across his knuckles. “Long.”
“Good.” She pointed to the puddle collecting under his hand. “I think it really bugs Ben that I look like her.”
In the time it took him to lick the back of his hand, Jake experienced an emotion bordering on empathy. Thankfully, it didn’t linger. “So how are things at home this week?” He watched Lexi’s force field slide into place. “Be honest. I promise I won’t worry.” Not. He would worry, and he would write it all down.
Lexi shrugged. “He took Adam’s phone away, and I only get mine until the end of the week when the contract is up. Oh yeah, he has a girlfriend.”
The cake cone crackled under Jake’s fingers.
“Adam heard noises downstairs last night.”
Acid rose in Jake’s throat. He didn’t want to ask, but he had to—for the record. “What did he hear?”
“A woman’s voice. They were laughing. What kind of person would laugh at Ben’s stupid jokes? Anyway, that’s the real reason Adam got up to feed Pansy—so he could check it out. They were in Ben’s room.”
Jake turned away and slammed the rest of his ice cream at the trash can.
“Ben came out and went nuts on Adam.” Lexi wiped her mouth. “Don’t say anything, okay?” Her tone pleaded.
“I won’t.” Not yet. He’d reported Ben to Human Services before. The guy slid through cracks like sewer water. He had to bide his time, bite his tongue, and trust his lawyer to work it out. In the meantime, he’d keep taking notes. And keep stashing away as much money as he could. Taking these kids out of Ben Madsen’s grasp could take everything he had.
“Promise?”
Jake tapped his knuckles on the table, trying to remember what he was supposed to promise. “That I won’t tell? I’ll promise for now, if you make one to me.”
Lexi tipped her head to one side. Déjà vu. Jake could have been eight years old, tagging along with his big sister, eating frozen custard at this very table. Lexi scrunched her nose, wrinkling pink-tinged freckled skin. “What?”
“Promise me that if Ben ever hits you or Adam or touches—”
His phone, sitting on the table between them, rang. He glanced down, expecting the electrician or someone from his drywall crew. He was not expecting the name on the screen.
Emily Foster.
What part of “not interested” didn’t she understand? True, he hadn’t said it quite that clearly, but she should have gotten the gist. Did the woman think he was just playing the business version of hard-to-get? As he shut off the sound, something in Lexi’s eyes grabbed him. A shuttered look, the force field sliding back into place. “Lex, has Ben ever touched—”
“No! Don’t be dumb! I’d deck the slob if he ever—” She ended with an exaggerated shiver. “Ewww.”
Jake stared at her, at the way her eyes didn’t return to his. Maybe she wasn’t lying. But she wasn’t telling the truth either.
A sense of urgency swept over him. He stared down at the silenced phone then back at Lexi’s guarded expression. It would kill him to knock down a wall that was over a hundred and sixty years old, but there were things that would hurt much worse. “I need to return this call.” He stood and walked across the parking lot, swallowing pride with every step, and pushed the buttons that would connect him with compromise.
“Hello?” The cool, calm house flipper sounded distraught.
“Miss Foster, this is Jake Braden returning your call.” And eating crow.
“Thank you for calling back. I know you’re probably extremely busy.” Her voice crackled on the last two words. “But I don’t know anyone else in town, and I’ve gotten myself in the strangest predicament….”
Lexi held the ladder at the bottom. An ethereal sight greeted Jake as he poked his head through the opening to the attic. Emily Foster sat on a bench on the far side of the attic, hugging a blanket. A tunnel of late afternoon sunshine landed in a square of light at her feet. Jake felt as though he was climbing the stairs to holy ground.
She rose slowly, the blanket falling to the floor. “This is so embarrassing.” She walked toward him with what were clearly painful steps. “Thank you so much for coming. I’ll pay you for