Copyright 1999, 2002, 2003 by Wanda Cunningham. There is no actual sex or transformation in this chapter, but I guess it should be rated R for context. So, nobody under 18 should read this, or whatever is the appropriate age in their community. This story deals with transgenderism in children and may be uncomfortable for some readers.

 

Kelly Girl

by Wanda Cunningham

Chapter 20

Night before Morning

 

The two boys and two girls tried to ease their way past Grant Walker, the reporter from the O.C. Register, the dark-haired man with the easy grin who had accosted them in the parking basement of Triangle Square. The Mann brothers were polite but not forthcoming "I'm sorry," said Pete. "We're really not going to talk about this."

The traffic of the busy mall still wasn't back to normal and even though some of the shops had begun closing, the parking garage remained crowded. Trying to skirt around police cars parked at odd angles and investigators working at the crime scene, most of the motorists had no idea what had happened; aggravation, curiousity and fatalism flowed into a mix of belligerent horns and carbon monoxide vapors, the recipe for several hundred pounding headaches.

Walker kept a smile on his face as he continued his pursuit of the Manns and their companions. "What about you?" he asked the girls. Sarah and Cheryl shook their heads. Kelly's kidnapping right in front of their eyes had shook all the kids up and nearly an hour of interrogation by police and security had left them unwilling to talk about it any more. Sarah felt sick at her stomach and Cheryl had bitten all the polish off her nails.

"Leave them alone," Richard warned Walker. "This isn't something that needs to be in the paper." Though only a high school freshman, he towered over the older man and his big, capable hands were clenched in front of him.

Grant sighed but nodded. He wasn't really intimidated but it was no use being obnoxious. He tried to ease off and recast himself as a friend. "I understand. But people are going to want to know what's happening..." He stopped suddenly, listening. Above the busy traffic noises all around them, they could all hear it. "Sirens? Maybe they've found something." Looking up the ramp toward the main level, he could see police cars pulling out of their awkward parking places and heading for the streets.

Pete started to speak but his cellphone chimed at that moment. He yanked it out, a little annoyed, but remembering Kelly's call to Richard, he suddenly felt hopeful. He looked at the number. Not recognizing it, he put the phone to his ear and pressed talk.

Richard stepped between Pete and the reporter, pulling both girls with him. "I think you'd better go," he said to Walker. Cheryl half-turned away, wanting to watch Pete, and also hoping that the call might be from Kelly. Sarah put her hands over her face and leaned against Richard.

"I--" Grant tried to think of a reason that would let him stay and maybe find out who the phone call was from but the expression on the red-headed boy's face persuaded him to cut his losses. For the moment. "Here's my card, if you want to call and tell me anything," he said, passing out little white rectangles.

Sarah and Cheryl took the cards also, Sarah muttering a reflexive, meaningless, "Thank you." Stone-faced, Richard accepted the card and put it in his pocket but he didn't get out of Walker's path toward Pete.

Pete had taken two steps away, behind the group, further from the reporter. He didn't want to go deeper into the garage where the cellular magic might fail to work but he didn't want to be overheard, either. He spoke quietly but intensely into the phone, then took a moment to motion Richard and the others to gather round.

Something is up, thought Grant. The sirens called him one way and the behavior of the Mann brothers called him another. Sighing, he went back toward the security office of the mall. Maybe someone there would tell him something. And if they didn't, he'd call his office where someone would be listening to the police scanner.

* * *

A few moments before Grant Walker heard sirens, Andie looked at the police station clock. It's well after six, she thought. We're missing the kid's optometrist appointment. She sat in the straight-backed gray office chair next to Lt. Bartolo Mendoza's desk, worrying about trivia. The really important worries had already exhausted her emotionally and now, just the thought of Kelly, kidnapped and in the control of some insane person--and without glasses--brought tears to her eyes. The poor kid must be terrified, she can't see much without her glasses and it's my fault, Andie accused herself. In her distress, Andie didn't even realize she was thinking of her young charge as female.

Bartolo saw the tears and debated internally what he might do about them: try to comfort the pretty lady? Well, of course, that's what he wanted to do so he should examine his motives. He'd rather examine the tall blonde whose exotic tatoos and plentiful piercings caused him to fantasize wild, abandoned love-making on some deserted beach. Or fancy hotel room. Or crowded subway. Or right here on his desk. Discreetly, he shifted in his chair, trying to relieve the pain from the sudden physical evidence of his unexpressed passions. Damn, I haven't been like this since high school--get hold of yourself, Mendoza! What are you, a pervert?

Andie wiped her eyes, not for the first time; Bartolo's heart, already melting, seemed likely to begin audibly sizzling in his chest. Still hesitating about acting on his feelings, he felt a bit of relief when the phone rang. He answered it with a crisp, professional, "Mendoza?" Then listened intently, saying little.

Andie wasn't totally unaware of her effect on the young police lieutenant. Just--now wasn't the time or place to explore something like that. Besides, I've already got one Latin lover, she reflected. Remembering the giant construction worker, Antonio Almontes, the man who called her 'Porkie', made her want to smile but another monosyllable from Mendoza reminded her of the situation. More than anything she wanted to interrupt the policeman's phone conversation to ask if the call had something to do with Kelly, but she kept quiet by force of will. She couldn't hear anything of the other end of the conversation and Mendoza's part was mostly grunts.

Finally, he said something intelligible, "I'm on my way." He reached to hang up the phone just as Andie stood up, excited.

"They've found her!" she squeaked.

Bartolo shook his head. At least, having something to do had taken his mind off the attraction he felt for Andie. "Not yet, but someone thinks they've spotted your car." He frowned, realizing he really shouldn't be telling her anything, bad procedure. "Stay here, I'm going to go check it out."

"Shtay here!" Andie blazed.

"Stay!" Bartolo ordered hastily, grabbing a light jacket to hide the police nine-millimeter he wore in a holster on the back of his belt. He regretted instantly how that had sounded so he added, "I'll be back soon, or I'll call!" He headed toward the door to the police garage, calling a couple of uniformed officers to accompany him.

Andie fumed for a moment then headed the other direction, toward the front of the police station where she had seen a bank of pay telephones. "Shtay!" she muttered fiercely. Even six-foot-ten Tony the Tiger wouldn't have dared give her such a peremptory order and expect obedience. He knew her too well.

* * *

Southwest Airlines had only recently installed cellphones into the backs of all of their seats. Any passenger with a credit card could make use of the phones; handy since use of personal cellphones on aircraft was prohibited by the FAA and the airlines.

Flying from Las Vegas to John Wayne Airport in Orange County on Southwest, it had finally occured to Harold Mann, shortly before Pete received his phone call, that he could call his sister or one of his sons with this new amenity. "Look, phones," he said to Barbie.

The little blonde squinted slightly; not wearing her glasses, she truly hadn't even seen the phones until Harry pointed them out. "Oh! Can we use them? I want to call Andie!"

"Okay," said Harold. "I'll call Pete and you call Andie and we can find out where everyone is."

By the time Barbie had negotiated charging the call, the more experienced traveler, Dr. Mann, was already talking to Pete. Barbie had no luck in reaching Andie, anyway, since the ditzy hairdresser's cellphone was currently sitting in Phil Constable's shirt pocket and was also turned off. Slightly annoyed at getting voicemail, Barbie prepared to give Andie a warm talking to by proxy but suddenly heard Harold say, "What happened?" in tones of such urgency that she simply hung up the phone.

"What is it?" Barbie asked, puzzled and more than a little frightened.

Harry split his attention between the phone and Barbie long enough to pull the little blonde closer to him. They had already put the seperator between the seats down, so Barbie ended up practically in Harry's lap. He put his arm around her and cupped her chin in his hand. "Don't scream," he said mysteriously, then devastatingly added, "it's Kelly, something's happened to Kelly."

Barbie gasped but did not cry out. He turned the phone so she could hear Pete's voice as well. "She's been kidnapped by someone named Phil Constable," Pete said, the tiny speaker of the cellphone making him sound very far away.

Harry kept his hand close to her mouth in case she screamed but Barbie's nerves had turned to ice. "Phil?" she said wonderingly. "But he's in prison...and how in the world would he find Kelly or even know who she is?" Then she blinked to realize that she had just called her son, 'she'.

* * *

At six o'clock, some of the mall shops in the bigger South Coast Plaza, five miles north of Triangle Square, had also begun closing but the larger chain stores all stayed open later. The crowds began to thin as people headed toward the exits. It was still light outside; in the middle of August, it would still be light for at least two more hours but the smaller stores mostly didn't keep late weekend hours until the Christmas season really got going.

The three girls standing in the bay of the little dress shop on the lower level near Sears didn't care that the store had closed. They watched the tiny blonde with the platinum curls carry another bag of merchandise into the Carl's.

"That's definitely Kelly," said Crystal nodding her golden blond head.

"That's definitely not Kelly," said Kimberly, shaking her strawberry curls.

"Kelly is a boy," said Valerie, at the moment playing the sensible brunette. "That's not a boy, that's a girl."

"It's Kelly disguised as a girl," insisted Crystal.

"Why would he do that?" demanded Kimberly.

"I dunno," Crystal admitted. "We could ask him?"

"Her," said Valerie.

"Whatever!" said Crystal.

"Look," said Kimberly. "One, Kelly is a boy, not a girl; two, Kelly has straight, dark blond hair, not platinum curls; three...." She blinked and looked cross. "I had a three a moment ago...!"

"Forget the hair, if Kelly has some reason for doing this, the hair doesn't matter; it could be dyed. We haven't seen him all summer, you know," said Crystal.

"I saw him on the Fourth," said Valerie.

"Where?" asked Crystal.

"I remembered my three! Kelly doesn't have pierced ears!" said Kim.

"Uh, I saw him on the ferry, the Balboa Ferry. He was with an older girl, looked a lot like him. His sister, I guess." Val frowned, trying to remember.

"How much older?" asked Crys.

"I dunno, maybe not much older, she wasn't much taller than Kelly--but she kinda looked older? High school, maybe? But short." Valerie held her hand out just a little below her own height.

"If he has one sister, he could have another," suggested Kimberly.

"Well, duh!" said Crystal. Valerie giggled. Kim wasn't usually the one who said such obviously dumb things.

Kim huffed then glared towards the Carl's where the hypothetical sister of Kelly had disappeared. They all three gazed that direction for a moment until a new observation occurred to them.

"Hey, isn't that the third pair of cops to come out of Sears in the last few minutes?" said Kim.

Val's eyes got big and Crys clutched her purse tighter. The blue-shirted Costa Mesa police sauntered slowly down the corridor, peering into shops and trying to seem nonchalant. A pair of them toured the Carl's then disappeared into the Rain Forest Cafe next door. Another pair of uniforms was just emerging from the Sears, this time the green and tan of mall security.

The security officers approached the girls where they lurked in the opening of the dress shop. Neither man was as fit as the policemen, nor were their uniforms such a natty, dark blue. But none of the girls had ever seen mall security officers looking quite so serious before. The older man smiled at them, clearly sending the signal, "Don't be scared." Up until then it really hadn't occurred to the girls that they might have a reason to be afraid.

* * *

Phil let Kelly place the wig to cover his short, almost white-blond hair. The dark brown Rita Hayworth curls fell to his shoulder and tickled his ears. "I feel like a fool," he said to Kelly. For one thing, he said to himself, I'm sitting on the toilet in the ladies' john not to mention that my daughter is dressing me up in drag.

Kelly frowned, adjusting the wig for a more natural look. "Can you try to sound more like a girl?" she asked.

"I feel like a fool," Phil simpered in falsetto.

Kelly giggled. "Maybe you better just not talk unless you have to?"

"Are you sure this is necessary?" Phil asked again. They were in the large stall with the handicapped logo at the far end of the women's restroom behind Carl's. Kelly had come and gone several times, acquiring items for their disguises and now they were working on the final touches. Occasionally, someone came in to use the restroom but so far they had not been seriously interrupted. That might change at any moment.

"The mall is full of cops, I saw several when I was out last tiem. They're looking for a blond girl with a short blond man." Kelly pulled on the other wig, a bright, plastic, anime-style hot pink, covering his own, recently dyed, platinum curls. He'd also changed from the blue-and-yellow slacks-and-tee outfit to the alternate burgundy slacks and lilac tee he'd bought at the Gap in Triangle Square at the same time. He'd seriously considered the extremely cute, red-and-white dress he'd worn when he left the Manns' house earlier in the day but dressed like that he'd attract too much attention moving about alone. Under the lilac tee shirt, he wore the training bra he had just bought in South Coast Plaza. It made him feel very strange but a little more grown-up.

"Can I see what I look like?" asked Phil. He also wore a bra, this one padded with panty hose out to a B-cup. Over the bra he wore a white blouse with rose-colored stitching, tiny pearly buttons and a sharp-pointed collar. The bottom of the blouse Kelly had tucked into a pair of women's stretch jeans; under the jeans Phil wore a panty girdle to keep suspicious bulges from showing. Not that I'm exactly over built down there, he thought. The girdle was from Frederick's of Hollywood and had hip and fanny padding to add to the illusion Kelly was creating. It wasn't especially comfortable.

"In a minute," said Kelly adding clip-on earrings, a bracelet, feminine sunglasses, a scarf, a purse and white-and-pink deck shoes to her father's disguise. "Let me do some make-up, just a little blush and lipstick."

Phil had shaved again earlier with a disposable razor from his travelling bag and Kelly had already used foundation to cover any beard stubble. Being blond, though, Phil could probably have gotten away without doing that. He didn't have much beard anyway and it was very pale, like his hair. "What if someone makes a pass at me," he joked.

Kelly shrugged. "Up to you? Is he cute?" she teased back.

Phil laughed, trying to keep it quiet. "You're really something, sugar," he said admiringly.

"Be still for a moment," Kelly ordered, peering closely to be sure he had done a good job with the makeup. He really missed his glasses right now.

Satisfied with the cosmetics, Kelly finished swapping items out of the Gap bags and into the new bags he had acquired. "In case the description of me they've got includes those bags," he explained.

"You're such a smart girl," Phil said. "But if I'm to be a woman, why didn't you disguse yourself as a boy?"

Kelly sighed. "I don't think I could do a good job of it?" That was very odd but true, she'd have had to remove all the nail polish and find a small enough masculine-looking wig to hide her new perm. "And we're running out of time, it's more important to disguise you."

"I suppose so, it would be hard to convince anyone that someone as cute as you could be a boy anyway," Phil said fondly.

Kelly rolled his bright green eyes. It certainly had been difficult to convince anyone of that lately. I'm even beginning to wonder myself. "This is going to work," he said to change the subject.

"I don't know," said Phil. "I still think I might just as well have given myself up."

"We talked about that, Daddy," Kelly reminded him. "If you can get out of here and back up north where you're supposed to be...and I refuse to identify you as my 'kidnapper'...you just might be able to keep from going back to prison."

"Huh." Phil had his doubts about the plan but he wanted to please his little girl.

"Let's put your travel case in one of the big Gap bags and you can carry it that way," Kelly suggested. "As long as I'm not carrying one of them." She tried to lift the case but it was surprisingly heavy. "What the heck are you carrying in this thing?"

"Just some stuff from my job," said Phil, taking charge of the unwieldy case, stuffing it into the Gap shopping bag and covering it with the folded clothing he had been wearing. "I don't want to leave it behind, if someone found it, well it would probably be used to prove I'd been here?"

"What is it?" Kelly asked again, still curious.

"Just tools," said Phil. "Can I see the big mirror now?"

"Okay," Kelly agreed after checking to be sure the big restroom was still empty.

They left the safety of the stall and made their way to the mirrors. Phil stared at the slim matron in her tight jeans and casual jewelry. "Omigod."

Kelly giggled. "You just might get a pass or two thrown at you, Daddy."

Phil felt staggered by the transformation. Because of his small size and slender build, he'd spent three years in solitary confinement to protect him from "passes" thrown by the bigger inmates. I'd be the Sweetheart of Soledad for sure, if any of the cons every saw me looking like this, he thought. "I never thought I'd make...a good looking woman?"

"It must be in the genes?" suggested Kelly, thinking of his own predicament.

"Yeah, the padding in the jeans does give me...a girly shape?"

Kelly giggled. "Just remember, don't take really big steps, take small steps. Don't talk to anyone if you don't have to and smile a lot. But don't smile at the guys and then look away, that means c'mere and talk to me."

"Huh? It does?"

"We don't have time to do anything about your hands, Daddy," Kelly fretted. "Just try not to make them too obvious."

Phil nodded, still wondering about the language of smiles and glances. He looked down at his work roughened hands, they weren't too big or ungainly but calluses from working with livestock sure didn't fit the image of a Southern California soccer mom. "Do you play soccer at school?" he suddenly asked Kelly.

"What? Yeah, I guess? Everybody does, but I'm no good at it." Kelly checked her own appearance in the mirror. "Okay, just...let's go over it again. I'm gonna leave first to check things out. If I don't come back in ten minutes, it means you better make a go for it. I'll use the phone," Kelly held up Andie's cellphone that Phil had returned to her, "And call someone to come get me."

Phil smiled. "Such a cute little mastermind," he teased.

"Daddy!" Kelly objected. He shook his ultrapink curls and sighed but continued. "Whatever happens, you just walk out of here like you have every right to do so. Go to the west end of the mall, there's a city bus stop there, catch a bus somewhere and make your way home."

"Okay, sweetie," Phil promised. "If this works, I'll be done with my parole in a couple of years and I'll try to get in touch."

Kelly nodded. then hurled herself against Phil, wrapping her arms around the slender waist. "You be safe," she whispered, trying hard not to start crying. "I've never had a daddy before and I don't want to lose you."

Phil started to say something but just then the restroom door opened.

* * *

Amanda tried to keep her voice from turning whiney. "I'm okay, really. I just need someone to check on Floop at my trailer." She picked disconsolately at the white coverlet on her hospital bed. "They want to keep me overnight, but all I've got is a headache," she told her friend.

Rachel looked sympathetic. "I'll check on the kitty, you just go ahead and stay overnight. Though you do look fine to me, I think it's probably a good idea for you to stay."

"Hmph," Amanda pouted, even at forty she knew how to pout cute. "I think why they're keeping me is my insurance is all paid up and they're so pleased I'm not a charity case."

Rachel laughed. "Well, better you're in here for a headbump than for a detox, huh?"

"Yeah," Amanda admitted. "Detox is no fun, your head hurts, your stomach is trying to turn inside out and you can't stop the craving." She smiled. "Well, I may have lost my temper and got klonked on the head but I didn't take a drink." She didn't mention the crawling anxiety she felt at the prospect of not having a drink for at least another day.

Rachel nodded, thinking her protege was doing better than she actually was. Amanda hadn't really told her sponsor about the one-drink-after-three-but-before-five-schedule. "One day at a time. But that wasn't all your fault, you know? Your ex-husband kidnapped your granddaughter, you had nothing to do with that."

"Um. Kelly. Yeah." Amanda decided not to correct Rachels' information about Kelly's real sex. It was just too embarrassing to explain and she didn't know why Kelly had been dressed like that anyway. "Uh, well, Phil was put in prison for...raping Barbie, Kelly's mom. Statutory rape. The little slut seduced him while he was drunk. And, uh, Kelly is Phil's...kid."

"Oh, my." Rachel paused to think about that for a moment. "You're being kind of harsh on Barbie, aren't you? Wasn't she only twelve at the time?"

Amanda nodded and winced, instantly regretting the head movement. "Yeah. Just like me at that age. A total slut. Well, I was two years older when I got knocked up."

Rachel shook her head, uncertain of just how to reply to that.

Something occurred to Amanda just then and she rolled her eyes--and regretted that, too. "Ow. Fuck. I bet Kelly is just the same, twelve years old and hot to trot! Good God!" Is that why he was dressed as a girl? He's just as boy crazy as his mom and grandma? Amanda groaned. I really need that drink, she thought.

"Are you in pain, dear?" Rachel asked carefully.

Amanda looked up at her friend and forced a smile. "You know," she said simply.

Rachel nodded; she did know. That's why she was Amanda's AA sponsor. She took the tiny redhead's hand in hers and squeezed gently, wishing vaguely that she didn't feel uncomfortable suggesting a prayer.

* * *

After Harry hung up from talking to Pete, Barbie reminded him. "Kelly's a boy, you know."

Harry nodded, "Yeah, but he's dressed as a girl and the boys don't know that...and Andie evidently hasn't told the police either." His expression looked pained more than worried. "You know this Phil Constable person?"

"Uh." Barbie considered how much she should tell Harry then decided not to hold anything back. "He's...Kelly's father, and my step-dad."

Harry looked stunned. "That's why he was in prison? He raped you?" Harry's big voice fell to a whisper. No need for the whole plane to know about this.

Barbie bit her lip. "That's what they said. I was a kid, so it was rape. He confessed and they wouldn't let me say anything for him."

"For him?"

"Yeah. I...it was my idea. We were drunk, the first time I ever got drunk, and the last time I ever got that drunk. I stole liquor and got drunk and he found me. He and M-m-Amanda were always drunk back then." She hiccupped. "He went to prison for what we did. I guess, that was right because I was so young." Her eyes filled with tears. "But I can't imagine him hurting Kelly, he didn't hurt me. I did a terrible thing to him but he never hurt me."

Harry pulled the weeping blonde back into his lap. "He probably thinks Kelly is a girl, too," he mused aloud. "What's he going to do if he finds out Kelly is a boy?"

Barbie snuffled. "Phil is a gentle man, he loves kids and animals."

"He's been in prison, Barbie," said Harry gently. "Prison changes people."

"Oh, God!" Barbie buried her face in Harold Mann's wide chest. "He went to prison and I never saw him again and they sent me to juvie until they found out I was pregnant! They wanted me to give up the baby, but I wouldn't. I wouldn't! Kelly, baby. My baby."

Harry held her, patting her on the back like a small child until she stopped weeping and sat up to wipe her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be," he said. He kissed her fingers. "Don't be. I don't know how I would react if something like this happened to Pete or Richard. Or Andie. I think I'm only calm now 'cause it wouldn't be fair to you for both of us to get hysterical." He smiled.

Barbie snuffled a weak laugh. "Yeah, I'm glad you're here. Phil must have been looking for me, and so was Amanda. Maybe Phil followed her."

"Why do you think Phil would have wanted to see you?" asked Harry.

Barbie wiped her eyes and blew her nose on a tissue. "I dunno? Maybe to say he was sorry?"

* * *

Andie had an almost unbelievable bit of luck for Southern California; when she called the cab company from the pay phone in the front of the police station, it turned out that a cabbie had just dropped off a fare at a building less than a block away.

She had actually intended to go back to her shop first to retrieve another cellphone but when the green and white taxi pulled up in front of her, cop cars were still pouring out of the Costa Mesa Police Department Yard. Sliding into the back seat, she told the driver, "Follow those cops."

The cabbie, Elise Fremont, a forty-five-year-old widow, had been driving a cab in Costa Mesa for seven years. She knew the law. "I can't do that, miss," she protested. "I could lose my permit."

"They're not going far," said Andie. "Wait'll they're all on the way and hang back as far as you like. We won't lose them with those sirens."

"Well..." said Elise, stalling.

"Fifty bucks, plus the fare," said Andie.

"Yow." Elise couldn't turn that down, she had a son going to UC Irvine to support and college books for the new semester were abominably expensive. "A hundred?" she offered, though. Why not?

"Okay," Andie agreed. "Just get me where they're going."

When the last police car pulled out of the yard, Elise let them get a block ahead then easily followed the sirens toward South Coast Plaza.

* * *

The four kids piled into the Mercedes, Pete having the only license among them was of necessity the driver. "Where we going now?" asked Sarah as she fastened her seatbelt.

"We're taking you and Cheryl home," said Pete, backing carefully into the stream of cars trying to get out of Triangle Square. "Then we're going to the airport to meet our dad and Kelly's mom."

"Didn't they have Barbie's car?" asked Richard.

Pete grinned. At least something was funny. "Dad had it towed from the airport parking last night while they were in Vegas, he was going to offer to have it all fixed up or to buy a new one for Barbie."

"Sounds like Dad," sighed Richard. "He can turn even generosity into a display of arrogant prickhood."

Sarah stared at Richard, a bit appalled. "You said that about your own father?"

Pete laughed and Richard grinned. "Sure, and he wouldn't deny it. The great thing about Dad is that he knows all of his own faults and enjoys every one of them."

Cheryl asked, "Has he told her?"

Pete nodded, "She found out just now, while we were on the phone. I don't think she's much worried about her car, though."

All four fell silent as Pete negotiated the exit ramp, thinking about Kelly had to be Barbie's primary concern, right now. Down Newport to PCH then on to Corona del Mar, none of them said anything, except a muttered "Damnit," from Pete when someone cut him off.

They didn't speak at all until Pete asked Sarah for directions to her house. Not wanting to admit that she lived in some of the only cheap apartments in the tony beach community, Sarah told him to drop her at a corner. "I can walk the rest of the way," she said.

Pete didn't even discuss it but did as she asked. Richard got out of the car to give Sarah a hug and a kiss. "We'll call you and tell you what's happening tomorrow," he promised.

Sarah stood on the corner and watched the big sedan disappear toward the expensive homes on the richer side of town. Then she walked home, wiping away her tears.

The boys dropped off a weeping Cheryl and with their own eyes burning, headed toward the airport. Just as they reached Jamboree Road, Richard's phone started ringing.

  

  

  

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