Chapter Two
Michelle stood and meandered over to the far wall to clock out for the night. She loved evening shift. It gave her the freedom to sleep in, clean her house, and run errands before heading into work for the day.
Kristin got to her feet also. “A few of us are going to Scruples tomorrow for lunch. Care to join us?”
“Thanks, Kris. I may just do that. It really depends on how late I sleep.” Michelle sent her friend and coworker a wink before opening the door to step out into the well-lit parking lot.
Kristin followed close behind. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
Michelle unlocked her car door and slid behind the wheel. “I know what I heard, Kris. How else would I have known where to look for the little girl?”
“I have no idea, but you have to admit it’s a bit spooky. Especially after the strange call you took about the Shueller fire a few months ago.”
“It’s a lot spooky. And I’d rather forget it ever happened, if you don’t mind.” Michelle pulled the door shut, cranked the car, and rolled the window down. “I’ll try to make lunch tomorrow. Thanks again for the invite.”
“No problem. See you then.” With a quick smile, Kristin ambled over to her four-wheel drive and climbed inside.
The drive home passed without mishap for Michelle. She managed to catch every green light on the brief trip, and traffic was nearly nonexistent.
She pulled into the familiar driveway of home and stared at the yellow glow of her porch light before grabbing her purse and going inside.
Michelle couldn’t get the mysterious caller out of her head. Even with the static and poor reception of his phone, his deep voice had bled through her headset to penetrate her brain.
Maybe she was going crazy and had imagined the call, but she didn’t think so. The six-year-old girl found in the copse of trees was evidence enough that the call had been real. As was the Shueller fire a few months back. The call hadn’t shown up in the CAD at that time either.
Michelle had no doubt the fire marshal would launch an official investigation. Someone would want answers as to how a local dispatcher knew of the child’s sudden rescue, along with the disappearance of the mysterious recording that tipped her off to the little girl’s whereabouts.
None of it made any sense, she thought while pouring a glass of wine.
The trill of a phone startled her, bringing her out of her musing. She fished her cell out of the bottom of her purse. “Hello?”
“Hi, honey. I heard about what happened. Are you all right?”
The sound of her stepfather’s voice soothed her somehow. “Hi, Dad. Yes, I’m fine. It was just all so weird. What are you doing up this late?”
“I was trying to get caught up on some paperwork. Listen, your mother and I are worried about you. How about coming by the house for lunch tomorrow?”
“I don’t know. Kristin invited me to Scruples to eat with her and some of the ladies I work with.”
There was a long pause. “If that’s what you want to do, but it would sure mean a lot to your mother if you were to show up at the house.”
Guilt was instant. Jack Collins, an attorney turned judge, was capable of using words like a boxer used his fists. And he wasn’t above hitting below the belt. “Okay then. Tell Mom that I’ll be there.”
“I will. Have a good night, buttercup.”
“You too, Dad.” Michelle ended the call, drained her glass of wine, and poured another. She noticed her hand shook as she gripped the crystal stem. What the hell is wrong with me?
Plucking up the bottle of Chianti, she left the snifter on the counter and trailed over to the couch to check her email.
It was going to be a long night, she surmised, opening her laptop and signing onto the internet. A long night indeed.
She turned up the bottle of wine…
* * * *
Utah rolled to his back, blinking into the bright rays of the morning sun. The shipyard was bustling with people going about their daily routines. Some were sitting beneath shade trees eating breakfast from fast food bags, while others warmed up machinery and barked orders to the late arrivers.
A vision of the little girl from the fire interrupted his introspection. He wondered if she’d survived, and if so, how much damage had been done to her.
He slowly sat up and got to his feet, testing his strength. It took hours of sleep to replenish himself after gathering the energy to pull someone from the jaws of death.
Utah closed his eyes and willed himself to the closest hospital from the fire site.
Dizziness assaulted him upon arrival. He kept his eyes shut until the nauseating feeling passed. Apparently he hadn’t slept as well as he thought he had.
He approached the admissions desk, stopping behind a tall brunette wearing jeans and a bright yellow T-shirt. Her husky voice triggered a flash of memory that sucked the air from his nonexistent lungs.
“I know that you can’t give out medical information on her, ma’am, but I was the dispatcher that took the call last night. I just wanted to make sure she was all right and maybe leave a present, if I may?” She sat a small wrapped gift on the counter in front of the receptionist.
It was definitely her—the dispatcher on the other end of the phone, Utah realized, staring at the tall woman’s back. She’d heard him.
Utah stepped up next to her to gaze at her profile. Her skin had a brown hue to it, as if she had some kind of Native American heritage running through her veins.
Her lips were the color of a berry that he’d love to taste, but it was her eyes that really grabbed him…a light shade of blue, beautifully contrasted with her darker skin.
“I’ll see to it that her father gets the gift, Miss…?” the receptionist was saying.
“Collins. Michelle Collins.”
The receptionist’s eyes lit up. “Any relation to Judge Collins?”
Utah could almost taste the resentment that abruptly radiated from Michelle. “Yes, Judge Collins is my father. Please see that the little girl gets the gift?”
It became obvious to Utah that Michelle resented using her family’s political position to get what she wanted.
The receptionist smiled. “If you would like to leave your number, Miss Collins, I could pass it along to the family. One of them may be so kind as to call you with an update.”
Michelle’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “That would be great.”
After writing down her digits on a piece of paper the receptionist had given her, Michelle thanked her and turned to leave.
Utah quickly memorized the two phone numbers Michelle had written down and followed her outside to her car.
She dug out her keys and inserted them into the driver’s side door.
“How is it possible that you heard me on that 911 call?” Utah murmured, more to himself than to her.
Michelle stilled before slowly pivoting on her heel. Rubbing both of her arms, she scanned the parking lot in rapid succession. “I must be losing it.”
“You can hear me?” Utah dared not believe. He slowly reached up to touch her face.
A silent intake of breath told him she’d felt something.
She quickly spun around, jerked the car door open, and slid behind the wheel.
After several attempts to get her keys in the ignition, she started the engine and sped out of the parking lot.
Utah could only stand there with his mouth hanging open. No one had so much as sensed his presence since the day he’d died in that fire three years ago.
Not even the few people he’d been able to rescue since his death could remember how they had made it to safety. But Michelle Collins had not only heard him, she’d felt his touch as well. He was sure of it.
He had to find her, to see her again. With the help of a local phone book, he would have her address in no time…