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Contains chapter 01 through 05 |
As I did with the first novel in my "Home of the" trilogy, I have just one request. No, it's a rule set in stone. Because this novel was published years ago, it's too late to make any corrections or changes. Therefore, if you have any suggestions for improvement or find typographical errors, PLEASE KEEP IT TO YOURSELF! My hands are covering my ears, and I do NOT want to hear it. La-la-la-la! If you haven't done so already, you might want to begin by reading Home of the Red Fox first. It is also an eBook on Amazon, but I left it in my WdC portfolio so members could read it for free.
Okay, here goes. I do hope you enjoy my continuing story about Walker and the children who come to the safety of his estate. Chapter 01 If anyone could help save the children, it would be Walker, the owner of Maison du Renard Rouge. Grace Larson, the leader of Westbrook’s town council, vaguely remembered hearing the history of the mansion. Jason Edgeworth, a wealthy 18th century Englishman, originally owned the immense building. Soon after the unsolved disappearance of his second wife and several other local women, he returned to live out the rest of his life in Derbyshire, England. A few years ago, multibillionaire William Walker bought the deserted residence to provide a safe haven for many abandoned and abused elderly people. At that time, he named the building Maison du Renard Rouge after the first guest, a curious red fox. Grace was visiting his home for the first time at the invitation of her friend, Samantha Ward. The 68-year-old spinster had come to ask for financial help to resolve the town’s current crisis. While enjoying a light lunch with her friend and Walker, she repeatedly glanced around the mansion’s large dining room. Since it was just past noon, hungry diners sat at all the two dozen tables. Most of them were the older guests, but Grace noticed a few younger people. Whenever a waiter came from the kitchen through the double doors, she could see into the steam-filled and noisy area. For one brief moment, she even saw and heard a rotund chef. He was loudly shouting and waving a ladle perilously close to the head of another man. Walker noticed where Grace was looking. Shaking his head, he shared an exasperated look with Samantha. “Okay, Sam. What’s setting him off today? Forget it. I know.” He gave a big sigh. “He and Harriet had another fight, didn’t they?” Trying to hide her smile, Samantha nodded at Walker’s accurate assessment. Instead of answering him, she turned to Grace and explained, “I’m sorry you had to see that. The man with the ladle is Chef Geoffrey, and he’s currently dating Dr. Harriet Ellison. She’s the acerbic head of our hospital’s ER trauma unit. For reasons known only to her, Harriet enjoys pushing his buttons and making him angry.” Although Grace never married, in her younger days she had enjoyed uninhibited sex with some lusty, fun-loving men. Unlike the more innocent Samantha, she understood how fights often end in lovemaking. “I understand, Samantha. Chefs are notoriously hot tempered, and yours makes such delicious food.” To prove that point, Grace spooned out the last of her chicken tortilla soup. Finally, both her appetite and curiosity satisfied, Grace brought up the subject of a new orphanage. “Walker, the current one on the outskirts of town is a disgrace and a health hazard.” Samantha remained silent at first. Walker had hired the stunning 40-something with the serious hazel eyes and flame-red hair because of her outstanding management ability. Her skill at keeping his massive home running smoothly went well with her keen intelligence and exotic beauty. She now impulsively spoke up before he could. “Doesn’t the town have a budget for upkeep of the place?” After saying this, Samantha turned and looked into the blue eyes of the tall, muscular man sharing the sofa with her. “Sorry, Walker, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She suddenly noticed his neat beard and mustache were starting to show traces of gray. His dark brown, wavy hair showed only minor touches of this at his temples. Knowing this wasn’t the time to comment, she decided to keep to herself the thought it made him look distinguished. “Interrupt away, Sam. I was curious about the same thing.” Fifty-year-old Walker was a shrewd financier and had the respect of honest business people. Those less honest soon discovered how powerful and dangerous he was, much to their regret. Besides building his vast fortune from the acquisition of multiple companies around the world, Walker also had a reputation as a generous philanthropist. He knew how tight finances were for small towns like Westbrook. This was the first time, however, any of the council had approached him, and he wanted to learn all the facts before making any decision. ”Westbrook had to replace the old town hall that burned down a few years ago, and that almost wiped out our general fund for some time to come.” Grace explained. “Having to hire more people to run the plows during last winter’s heavier-than-normal snowstorms left little money for the upkeep of the orphanage or any of our other older buildings.” Walker felt guilty for failing to realize the nearby town could have used his help. An idea to solve this problem and honor Hannah Edgeworth at the same time started to form in his active mind. Walker had vowed never to forget this murdered child from the 19th century after finding her small bones some time earlier in a cavern beneath his mansion. He quickly asked Grace, “Can you set up a meeting with the rest of the council? I need to know if they mind our taking over the responsibility for those children by having a new orphanage built here instead of in town.” Grace shared an amused look with Samantha before replying, “Is this evening too soon?” Grace had already discussed with the town council her plan to contact Walker and ask for some financial help. The men immediately, and without hesitation, gave her their heartfelt approval to go ahead. Since Walker was willing to cover the total cost of a new orphanage, she hoped the council would agree to have it located on his estate. A few hours later, with the sun starting to disappear over the horizon, Grace returned with the three remaining council members. To give the men a chance to catch a glimpse of some of the two thousand acres on Walker’s estate, she drove her minivan slowly down the long driveway. It began at the county road and wound its way to the mansion. Along the way, they saw dozens of mature oak and maple trees. A dying ray of sunshine glinted on a small body of water in the distance. A second road split off the main driveway and passed out of sight over a hill. On the other side was the hospital Walker originally had constructed to take care of his mansion’s elderly guests. Westbrook citizens soon began using the facilities since the nearest hospital was miles away in the city of Springfield. When the vehicle finally stopped in front of the four-story, stone mansion, Samantha went to meet them. She couldn’t help smiling at their looks when they walked inside and saw the beauty and size of the large entrance room. A series of floor-to-ceiling windows filled the front wall giving the visitors a spectacular view of the snow-covered lawn. All through the room were low sofas and comfortable-appearing chairs. Samantha saw several elderly men and women quietly reading with others gathered together simply talking. Other people slowly made their way across the room to their various evening activities. “Walker asked if you’d all come up to his apartment. He’s interested in getting your thoughts on some ideas he has.” With these softly spoken words, Samantha guided them to the glass elevator on the left side of the entrance room. What awaited them on entering the apartment was unexpected. The three male town leaders were meeting Walker for the first time, although his home for forgotten and abused elders had been in existence for a couple of years. Aware of his immense wealth, they assumed a pompous elderly man would greet them. Walker came forward, hand outstretched in welcome, a friendly smile on his face. The traditional dark suit and red power tie were missing. Instead, Walker wore a casual outfit of khaki slacks, light blue shirt, and shoes without socks. “Welcome to my home,” he said, in a pleasant baritone voice. “I’ve wanted to invite you long before now, but time just kept getting away from me.” Walker motioned for everyone to find a seat, while a young waitress from the first floor’s dining room took their orders for drinks or coffee. After a few minutes of small talk among the men, Grace looked over at Samantha. Seeing her nod, Grace decided it was time to bring up the subject of why they were there. “Walker, are you serious about wanting to build an orphanage on your property? Why?” Walker stood and slowly crossed over to gaze out the large window at the far end of his living room. When he turned to face them, any sign of good humor was gone, replaced by sadness. “Grace, we recently discovered the body of a little girl on our property, or rather her bones. She was the seven-year-old daughter of the man who built this mansion back in the 19th century. “We learned what happened when we discovered an old letter written by Edgeworth’s second wife, Nancy. She was Hannah’s nanny at that time and was watching the child play one afternoon in a quiet, third-floor room. Marianne, the child’s mother, abruptly burst into the room and ran past the two of them. She knelt down on the floor and pulled back a rug near the front window. This revealed a small door under which was a hidden, winding stairway leading downward. “Ignoring Nancy’s pleas for mercy, Marianne grabbed Hannah’s arm and dragged her down those long stairs. She was yelling obscenities at the hysterically crying child, saying she was the reason her husband no longer loved her. Nancy followed them until they reached what we now know are three large caverns below this building.” Samantha knew how deeply this had affected him, but let Walker tell the story in his own way. Little Hannah Edgeworth could have been the child Walker never had and probably never would have. Much to the regret of many women who knew him, he apparently was a confirmed bachelor. Walker’s unconditional love for children was apparent to all his friends. Without any hesitation, he made two youngsters his wards after the murder of their mother in San Francisco the previous year. Joshua and Sue Beth Wilson were special to him, of course, but Samantha knew Hannah had touched something deep inside Walker. She often saw him standing near the weeping willow tree next to Hannah’s grave that contained her few pitiful bones, just staring off into the distance. She also knew of his vow at her funeral that he would find a way to honor the previously unloved child. In a soft voice, Walker continued, “When they reached the largest cavern, Marianne continued to the rear of the largest cavern. With one last blasphemy, and too fast for Nancy to intervene, she picked up her child. Marianne smashed Hannah’s head against the chamber wall, instantly killing her. Still ignoring the nanny’ cries of horror and pain at what she’d just witnessed, the deranged woman walked to the largest opening. The limp and bloody body of her daughter dangled over one arm. Nancy knelt on that ground, unable to stop her, as Marianne stuffed the small body into the hole, pushing and pushing until the copse disappeared.” When Walker finished telling the story to Grace and the men, they sat shocked and wordless. Samantha then asked the obvious question of them. “How many children do you currently have under the town’s care?” Samuel Hobson, a banker by trade, was the first to speak. “There are seven children of different ages. Right now, we’ve temporarily fostered five of them out to families in town. I stress the word temporary, though.” The portly and kindhearted banker ran a hand through his thinning gray hair in frustration. “If something isn’t done soon, we may have to send these children to another orphanage, probably in Springfield.” The city was about 50 miles from Westbrook, to the west and a long ride over country roads. “Most of us have grown fond of the kids and would hate to see them go so far away.” “We can’t afford to pay these foster parents more than a stipend, and it’s putting a financial burden on them.” This came from George White, the owner of the town’s grocery store and the youngest on the council. He was the one who had insisted on the removal of the children from the old orphanage. This was after part of the ceiling in the kitchen crashed to the floor. One large piece nearly hit the on-duty cook. The third man, Reverend Winston Rogers, nodded. He removed his wire-frame glasses to clean the lens before saying, “This left only two kids still in the old building. We couldn’t find anybody in town to take them in, even for a short time.” He stopped there, without offering any further explanation. After putting his glasses back on, he tightly closed his thin lips against divulging anything more. Samantha frowned at this seemingly callous behavior and asked sharply, “Why? Leaving children in such danger is despicable.” “Miss Ward, maybe I should explain,” said George, the young man plainly in awe of the beautiful woman sitting on the sofa across from his chair. “The boy is blind. There’s also a little girl from Belize who doesn’t speak or understand much English, only Q'eqchi or K'ekchi'. We’re unsure how to spell it or even pronounce the words, though I’ve spent a lot of time Googling it lately.” Walker spoke before George could add anything else. “We can take care of both here.” Samantha grinned at the surprised look on George’s face. She knew Walker felt his staff could handle any problem he gave them, even taking care of these two more children. He loved challenges and thought everyone around him was the same way. “Of course we can,” she said, mentally going through the list of guests and staff who might also volunteer to help in the children’s care. “Please have them packed and ready for us tomorrow morning, and someone will come to the orphanage to get them.” Samantha leaned back to bask in Walker’s warm, pleased glance while thinking, Any problems caused by these two children are worth it to make Walker happy. The rest of the evening went by with plans for what Walker had to do to replace the old orphanage. Jack Notting, the mansion’s “idea man,” eventually joined them and took copious notes. In the coming weeks, he would cut through miles of legal red tape for establishing an orphanage. Chapter 02 Walker, standing silently outside the town’s orphanage, stared in dismay at the building in front of him. Even from yards away, he could see and smell the moldy, rotting wood of the dilapidated structure. This death trap is home to children? Walker thought in horror. He watched as Grace came toward him. She had been standing by her car when she spotted Walker’s green and white SUV. Until seeing it, she wasn’t sure Walker meant what he’d promised the night before. “Are you ready for this, Walker?” Grace asked, knowing what was waiting for them inside. “I’m glad you took my advice and wore warm clothes. It’s rather chilly inside since the furnace broke down.” The slightly heavyset woman had a knit sweater over her dress and noticed Walker wore a cardigan sweater made of thick wool. “I’m ready. Let’s go get those kids.” Walker headed toward the front door and held it open for Grace. Inside, he stopped in shock at the sight of the room. Hospital green paint peeled off the walls of the building built back in the 1950s. Walker knew paint from that time might contain lead, deadly if eaten by inquisitive children. The fact there hadn’t been any deaths in all the years of the orphanage’s operation amazed him. The carpet underneath their feet was falling apart and smelled from years of spilled food and accidents dripping from unchanged dirty diapers. “My God, Grace, this is disgusting. Why didn’t someone come and tell me about this earlier?” Walker wasn’t blaming Grace, but she felt the sting of his angry question anyway. She didn’t answer and silently led the way out of the room. They continued down a long dingy corridor. The open doors revealed bedrooms, now empty of both children and furniture. Walker peeked into one room and saw a small area with a fly-specked window looking out on an untended dirt yard. The only items left in the room were shabby, pink curtains. There had been an attempt at making the room more cheerful, but it failed miserably. Walker could almost feel the hopelessness of the child who had once lived in this room. He was glad he’d convinced Samantha to remain at the mansion today for he knew this place would be too much for his tenderhearted friend. Further down the hallway, they passed the kitchen, site of the caved-in ceiling, but didn’t go in. Finally, Grace opened a door to a room at the back of the building and let Walker go in first. An elderly woman, Stella Farrell, the only remaining volunteer willing to come into the dilapidated building, came forward to meet them. Stella was apprehensive about meeting the man everyone hoped would help the children. Nervously, she kept pushing strands of dyed blonde hair back from her face. “Mr. Walker?” At his nod, she moved out of his way so he could see who was also in the room. “I’d like you to meet Michael and Itzam.” Turning to the two silent children sitting on wooden chairs behind her, she continued, “Children, this is Mr. Walker. He is taking both of you to live with him for a while.” Noting the fright in the little girl’s eyes, Walker moved slowly toward the children. “Hello, I’m so glad finally to meet you.” His calm words did nothing to ease the girl, but the boy smiled hesitantly. Michael turned his head toward where he heard the comforting voice and politely held out his small hand. “Hello, Mr. Walker. I’m Michael Kincaid, we’re glad to meet you, too.” This 10-year-old boy, blind since birth, felt a larger warm hand grip his. Walker kept holding Michael’s hand, even when he knelt on the floor a short distance from the girl. “Hello, Itzam.” Walker spoke softly to the child, who looked so vulnerable in front of him. She was around five years old and rather small for her age. When Itzam shrunk back, Walker turned to Grace, but stayed kneeling on the floor. “What’s her story, Grace? Why is she so afraid of me?” Grace came further into the room and gently pulled the little girl to stand next to her. “She traveled from Belize to Westbrook after a young couple here agreed to adopt her. The Whitakers were new to town and kept to themselves.” Without thinking, she started running her fingers through Itzam’s wavy, dark brown hair. She did at home when her daughter, as a young child, had been upset or stressed. This seemed to help, and Walker watched the fright in the little girl’s big brown eyes slowly recede. “Where are the Whitakers now?” Still speaking softly, Walker asked, keeping his eyes on the child. Itzam gave the world’s smallest smile, but he felt fully rewarded by it. Grace, having missed the minuscule smile, didn’t understand the sudden, wide grin on his face. She decided to answer his question and wonder about that smile later. “They disappeared in the middle of the night. When Stella came in one morning about a month ago, she found Itzam sitting outside in the doorway, shivering from the cold and clutching a small cardboard suitcase.” Seeing Walker’s grin had disappeared as suddenly as it appeared, she went on. “We tried to find the Whitakers, but they had left their rented place without any forwarding address. We then tried to find the organization that had sent Itzam here for adoption, without success. We also contacted the American Embassy in Belize for help in finding out who the child was and where she’d come from, but it was just another dead end.” Walker let go of Michael’s hand and stood to face the two women. “Did the Whitakers at least explain their actions?” Stella pulled a paper out of her dress pocket and handed it to him. “We found this inside the suitcase along with two changes of clothes, a toothbrush, and a well-worn child’s book in a language we could only assume is K'ekchi.” Walker unfolded the wrinkled paper and read aloud, “Her name is Itzam Tzul, she’s about five, we think, and is a Mayan from Belize. We can’t take care of her any longer. We don’t understand what Itzam wants, and she cries all the time. Please forgive us and find her a good home.” He refolded the paper and put it into his sweater pocket. “Well, I don’t know about forgiving them, but I promise Itzam will have a safe and loving home with us.” Michael, who had remained quiet while Walker read the note, now spoke. “Itzam sings real nice. Maybe once she gets to know you, she’ll sing for you, too.” He held out his hand, and the girl shyly took it in hers. Until then, she had remained silent, but now looked wistfully at Walker while speaking in her native tongue, “At-in-yuwa?” Her expression changed to sadness when he didn’t answer her question. “I’m sorry, Sweet Pea,” said Walker, “but I don’t know what you’re saying. However, we have a professor at the mansion who probably can help us.” Professor Logan had recently started tutoring Sue Beth and Joshua and would enjoy the challenge of learning a new language. At least Walker hoped he would. Even though Itzam didn’t know what Walker was saying, his tone of voice was reassurance enough to calm her agitation. She and Michael waited silently to see what Walker would do next. Chapter 03 Once again, Walker took Michael’s hand in his and headed toward the door. He motioned for Stella to bring Itzam since the child was comfortable with the older woman. At the door, he looked back and saw Grace coming toward him carrying the cardboard suitcase and a large paper bag. “Here, Grace, let me get those,” he said. After turning Michael over to her, he picked up the two items, surprised by their slight weight. It saddened Walker to know inside were the meager belongings of the children. He left the room and walked back to the front of the building, followed by Grace walking beside Michael and Stella holding Itzam’s hand. When they arrived outside, they could feel a drastic drop in the temperature. The warm spring-like weather of the past few weeks threatened once again to turn into a more typical late February snowstorm. Inches of fresh snow already covered the recently plowed road in front of the orphanage. “Hurry, Stella,” called Grace, running with Michael to the SUV. With his longer legs, Walker had arrived there first and unlocked the doors. Throwing the paper bag and suitcase inside, he next helped Michael up into the backseat, buckling his seat belt securely. When Stella arrived with the shivering little girl, Walker gently picked Itzam up and put her on the seat next to Michael. While he buckled her in, he couldn’t help noticing her shivering was more from fright than from the cold. “It’s going to be okay, Sweet Pea,” he whispered, “you’re going to be okay from now on. I promise.” Even though she didn’t understand the words, his tone of voice calmed her. This time, she rewarded him with a bigger, yet still uneasy smile. It would take time, he realized, for her to learn to trust strange adults. Just as Walker was getting ready to say his good-byes to the two women, he spotted George White driving up. After parking next to Walker’s SUV, the young man got out of his own car and joined the three adults. In his hands, he carried a large box. “I was afraid I’d miss you, Walker.” George looked into the backseat of the SUV and saw the two children sitting quietly. “I wanted to give the kids something to take with them.” He handed the box to Walker. “A few of the mothers around town donated their own children’s used clothing and toys.” After waiting for Walker to place the box on the front passenger seat, George waved at the children, and returned to his car without another word. “Hey, George!” yelled Walker, before the young man could leave. “Come out to the mansion next week for dinner with Samantha and me. I’ll call and let you know what day.” George nodded that he’d heard and quickly drove away. “Well, ladies. I guess I’d better leave, too.” Walker looked up at the now heavily falling snow. “Will you be able to get home okay?” With the assurance they could and after seeing them duck back into the deserted building, he got into the SUV. Turning around, he smiled at the two children to ask, “You ready?” Michael nodded while Itzam grabbed hold of the boy’s hand in sudden panic. She had just then realized this tall stranger was taking her away from the only place that was familiar to her. Her terror was almost palpable, but Walker knew there was nothing he could do about it. Starting the vehicle, he pulled away from the orphanage and headed the few miles out of town toward his mansion. As the SUV slowly made its way through the heavy snowfall, Walker spoke while never taking his eyes off the ice-covered road. “Michael, why don’t you tell me about yourself? Maybe hearing your voice will calm Itzam a bit.” “Um, let’s see. Oh yeah. Mommy raised me, Mr. Walker.” In the rearview mirror, Walker could see the boy running fingers through his straight blond hair, his sightless eyes staring ahead as he decided where to begin. “She was Mrs. Ruth Kincaid and worked as a teller at the bank. She told me my dad disappeared soon after I was born.” Michael’s voice lowered. “She said it was something about being disgusted seeing a deformed baby. Me, I guess.” Walker abruptly interrupted the boy, angered by the other man’s cruelty. “Michael, you’re not deformed. I never want to hear you say that again or even think it. Do you hear me?” His hands tightened on the steering wheel while he tried to control his overwhelming fury at Michael’s father. “Promise me that.” “I promise.” The child sat up straighter, and his voice strengthened at Walker’s firm order. “Anyway, Mommy and I were doing all right without him until about a year ago.” “What happened then?” Although still upset, Walker had managed to get his voice under control. A few minutes later, the driveway to the mansion appeared on his right. Walker had slowed the vehicle almost to a crawl, since the blinding snow was making it difficult to see more than a couple of feet in front of him. Judging the distance from memory, he cautiously made the sharp turn off the county road. However, he was listening carefully to everything Michael was telling him. “She was driving home from work when a drunk driver slammed into the car and killed her, they said instantly.” A tremulous smile came over his face. “So, you see, there isn’t much to tell. After Mommy died, her boss at the bank, Mr. Hobson, took me to the orphanage where I’ve lived until today.” Michael turned toward Itzam at a surprised gasp from her. She was looking out the window and had just caught sight of the mansion at the end of the circular driveway. Standing by the open front door, Itzam saw two other children and a woman with red hair. The little girl was jumping up and down in excitement at seeing the SUV. The boy, taller and slightly older than the girl, was trying to act grown up while they waited to greet Walker’s new charges. Thus, in the middle of a raging blizzard, the first of the children who eventually would live in the still-to-be-built orphanage arrived. More would come, and all had stories to share. Chapter 04 Coming into the mansion out of the freezing cold, Michael immediately experienced many sensations. He first heard the sound of footsteps coming toward him. They were light and evenly spaced, telling him a woman was slowly approaching where he stood by the now-closed front door. The firm, masculine hand holding his disappeared, replaced by a smaller, much softer one. While he drew in the subtle fragrance of an elusive floral perfume, Michael listened to a soft voice that reminded him of his loving mother. “Welcome, Itzam and Michael. I’m Samantha and these two pests impatiently waiting to meet you are Joshua and Sue Beth.” The voice had a smiling undertone to it, and Michael knew she cared for the children she called pests. The laughter of the man he already knew as Walker confirmed this impression. Michael felt Itzam take his other hand in hers and winced when she grasped it tightly in fright. He turned toward the woman to say, “Samantha, Itzam doesn’t understand much English. She’s scared right now.” “I know, Michael, I know.” While the woman spoke these soft caring words, he felt Itzam’s hand leaving his. A younger male voice, probably the boy she had called Joshua, was the next one Michael heard. “Don’t worry about Itzam. When Walker told us about her yesterday, I started studying some basic Q'eqchi with Professor Logan.” The professor had immediately learned seven-year-old Joshua and Sue Beth, two years younger than her brother, were exceptionally intelligent children. Both had a higher than normal I.Q. with an innate ability to learn languages quickly. Already, Joshua was fluent in French, Spanish, and Italian with Sue Beth almost as well. Joshua now slowly said a few tentative words in Q'eqchi, “Ma sa laa ch'ool?” For the first time since Michael had known her, he listened to an excited Itzam shyly reply, “Sa lin ch'ool.” Close by, the little girl introduced as Sue Beth took Michael’s hand in hers and started tugging him away from the front door. “Come on, Mike. Wait until you see your room.” Sue Beth, unaware of the minor faux pas she had just made, asked, “It’s all right for me to call you Mike, isn’t it? Michael is such a mouthful, and you seem more of a Mike anyway.” Feeling as if caught in an unstoppable whirlwind, Michael, or rather Mike, let Sue Beth drag him across a large room. All around him were the sounds of people laughing and talking. Behind him, he heard Itzam and Joshua following them. The little girl was chattering away in Q'eqchi with an occasional word of English thrown in. “Well, Samantha,” said Walker, watching the children disappear into the glass elevator. “So far, so good.” Samantha also watched the children, smiling in relief. “You should be proud of Joshua and Sue Beth. I wondered how they would react to kids with problems. I don’t think they even noticed or cared.” On the third floor, the children got off the elevator and headed to the right, down a long hallway. Mike listened intently to the sounds around him, trying to identify each one. The thick carpet muffled their footsteps, and he heard voices of several adults passing them. At one room with an open door, he caught a few words of a conversation between two women about a surprise birthday party. Before he could find out more, he heard the sharp thump of the door closing, leaving him wondering who the birthday person was. “Here we are,” said Sue Beth. “Mr. Walker gave you a two-bedroom place so you and Itzam can stay together for now.” Mike heard the door open and followed Sue Beth inside. Close behind him were Joshua and Itzam. Although Mike couldn’t see the rooms, Itzam could. He heard the little five-year-old girl giggling for the first time and felt pleasure wash over him from that unexpected joyful sound. “Sue Beth, why don’t you describe the room for me?” Mike found a chair by feeling around and sat down. “Describe it?” she said in surprise, and then realized why he’d wanted her to do that. “Oh dear. I forgot you can’t see.” She looked around the room, trying to decide where to start. “Okay, we’re in your living room, and there’s an ugly, green plaid couch. Yuck!” After saying this, Sue Beth thought for a second or two. “I know who picked that out. Our babysitter, Bea Walsh, must have done it ‘cause she told me once she’s color blind. Not like you, just for color.” “What else is here?” Mike was enjoying listening to his new friend. “Any chairs, a table, a lamp so Itzam can see after dark?” Sue Beth looked around and described in exact detail all the items Mike asked about. Meanwhile, Itzam was exploring on her own, with Joshua pointing to various items and saying what they were in English. Chapter 05 While the children got to know each other on the third floor, Walker and Samantha returned to his apartment where more challenges waited for them. Jack, who had a knack for finding solutions to problems, had been busy all morning trying to unravel the extensive legal paperwork involved in Walker’s new project. His boss groaned when he saw the look of annoyance on Jack’s face, fearing the worst. Is my plan to open an orphanage in Hannah Edgeworth’s name ended before it even began? “What’s wrong, Jack?” were the first words out of Walker’s mouth. “You look like you just sucked a lemon.” Jack grimaced before replying, “We’re getting a visitor this weekend, so prepare yourself for a couple days of petty political BS.” He walked over to one of the sofas and plopped down on it with a disgusted grunt. “Soon after you left for town, I got hold of your lawyers to get the ball rolling about the government forms you’ll need.” A small trace of humor returned with his next comment. “Hope you don’t mind, but I threw the fear of God into that obsequious toad of a receptionist they have. I mentioned your name and insisted, no, demanded, to speak with only the senior partner of the firm, Ron Hanson. That sycophantic female nearly swooned at that point. She immediately bypassed the three junior partners I had to go through the last time I called.” Jack grinned at his friend. “Walker, do you have any idea how powerful just the sound of your name is there?” “Forget that,” Walker said, impatiently. “Who’s this person coming, and what’s he want?” “She want,” corrected Jack, sneaking a look at Samantha. She only rolled her eyes in annoyance. She could just picture the pinched-nose, blue-haired, elderly female in support stockings meeting Walker. Like all women usually did, this one would fawn all over him. “Okay, what does she want?” Walker missed seeing Samantha’s expression and wouldn’t have understood it anyway. He was oblivious to the effect he had on most women. “Is it something you can handle, or does she insist on speaking to me?” He hoped it was the former, since he disliked bureaucrats with their confrontational pettifogging. For years, because of his various business enterprises, he had to deal with them regularly. Most were a waste of time, in his opinion. “No, she specifically said she had to speak to you. After we finished with what you’d need for him to do, Ron transferred my phone call to her office. It seems she’s new to the firm and specializes in children’s advocacy. He did say she has many years of experience in that area, so we’d better get ready for some long discussions.” Samantha joined the conversation. “Walker, do you want me to have a room ready for her, or do you want her to stay in one of the bungalows? Two of them are empty now.” “I think the bungalow would be best. That way, she won’t always be underfoot. Yes, do that. Thanks, Sam.” With that, Walker put the woman’s impending visit out of his mind and waited for Jack to continue with what other items of interest he had. Jack pulled a notepad out of his shirt pocket and referred to it. “After that call, I made one to Felix Depree over in San Francisco. You might remember, Randall recommended him if you ever needed a first-class architect.” Jeff Randall, a member of the SFPD Forensic Department, had sent Joshua and Sue Beth to the mansion for protection from their mother’s killer. He had visited the mansion several times since then, and Jack knew he would recommend only people who did quality work. “What did he say? Is he interested?” Samantha was the one who asked these questions before Walker could. “Will he be coming out, too?” Jack once more referred to his notepad before answering her. “Yes, same day as Miss Perry, next weekend.” He looked over at Walker. “Sorry, I forgot earlier to tell you the lawyer’s name. Delia Perry.” “Pretty name. Well, Sam, guess you’d better have those empty bungalows made ready.” Walker saw Jack flip a page on his notepad and hoped those were all the people coming. They were running out of places to put them. “Anything else?” “Nope, that’s it.” Jack returned the notepad to his pocket and leaned back on the sofa. He started to relax now that he’d passed on all the news, both good and bad. “So? What are the two children you brought back like? Is it too soon for me to meet them?” Before either Samantha or Walker could answer, they heard a frantic pounding on the apartment’s front door. Continued in next segment
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