The Rescuer

Dusty was enjoying all the attention, and he relaxed enough for a pink tongue to loll out. Herb popped the pill in, and Colin held the dog’s jaw shut, forcing him to swallow. Now Dusty got an offended look and hopped down from Alex’s lap.

“Done,” said Herb.

A silence descended. Herb glanced from Colin to Alex. “Well,” he said. “Guess you want me out of here. From what Denise says, you two have things to talk about. Come on, boy.” He left the kitchen, the little dog trotting after him.

Alex and Colin were still sitting knee to knee. She pushed her chair back awkwardly.

“Mr. McIntyre—”

“Colin, remember?”

“Right. Colin.” She felt foolish, didn’t know why, and that just made her feel more out of sorts.

He stood, took a mug from the cabinet and set it on the table. Then he opened a tin, pulled out a tea bag and filled a kettle with water. He placed it on a gas oven that looked too modern next to the lumbering wood-burning stove.

“Funny, but you don’t strike me as the domestic type,” she said.

“I can boil water. Don’t expect much else.” He turned his chair around and straddled it, resting his arms along the back.

“You remembered that I drink tea,” she said, feeling more foolish than ever.

“Sometimes I’m observant,” he said. “Take right now, for instance. You’ve tracked me down, Alex Robbins, but you’re still wondering if you even want to talk to me.”

“Of course I want to talk to you,” she said. “Why else would I be here—”

“You tell me,” he said.

She stared into his eyes, and her pulse did something erratic. She reminded herself how important her research was, the one thing giving meaning and shape to her life these days.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said, “about that phone conversation I had with your boss the other day. He said some pretty interesting things... about that apartment fire, for instance. Apparently you were more than a little reckless in the process of rescuing that little boy. So reckless that both you and your partner almost lost your lives.”

She knew she was trying to goad Colin, unsettle him somehow. But all he did was gaze back at her impassively. The kettle whistled and he went to turn off the burner. After splashing some water over the tea bag in Alex’s mug, he sat down again.

“Don’t you wonder about it yourself?” she asked. “Why you need to risk your life.”

“I do my job,” he said. “That’s all.”

Alex shook her head. “It’s never that simple.”

“Guess it’s not,” he said. “Look at you, Alex. You keep saying you want to study me...but what you’d really like to do is catch the next plane back to Chicago and never see me again.”

She stared at him. “What makes you think—”

“Like I said, Alex—I’m observant.” He looked at her speculatively. “Have to admit I’m curious. What’s making you stick around here, doing something you don’t want to do?”

How neatly he’d turned the conversation from himself. Worst of all, how perceptive he was. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to feel this strange unease.

“Might as well drink your tea,” he said.

When she picked up the mug, her fingers trembled just the slightest. She set it back down quickly. What was happening to her?

She didn’t know. But whatever it was, it had something to do with Colin McIntyre. And that scared her most of all.

CHAPTER TWO

IF YOU WERE COMING to northern Idaho by plane, the Silver Lake airport was the closest you could get to Sobriety. Not that the airport was anything to shout about—commuter flights and twin engines were usually all that landed here. The fact that Colin’s fifteen-year-old son was arriving by charter would probably cause a commotion.

Colin stood at the window of the small airport building, staring out at the tarmac. The last time he’d seen his son was a month ago, and as usual the encounter hadn’t gone well. His ex-wife said he was just trying too hard with Sean, trying to make every visit an event. But when you were divorced and you only got to see your kid every so often...you had to make it an event, didn’t you?

Colin had an image of the way things should be when you had a fifteen-year-old son. The teenage years were supposed to be the special years, the best time to be a dad—throwing a football around in the park, hockey games, basketball tickets to the Lakers, fishing trips and backpacking through the Sierras. Trouble was, Sean didn’t seem to like doing any of those things with his father. In fact, he didn’t seem to like his father much at all.

Colin paced restlessly at the window. Sure, he’d put his time in when Sean was young. He’d done his share of diapers and midnight feedings, school plays, parent-teacher conferences. But for a while now Sean had been old enough for the good stuff—those special years. Only, the good stuff didn’t seem to be good enough for Sean. What was wrong with the kid?

Of course, there’d been a new development this past year: Sean’s landing a part on that TV show. It had complicated things big time. His son, the actor. He still couldn’t get used to the idea. In all fairness, he knew his ex-wife couldn’t get used to the idea, either. Beth hadn’t gone looking to make Sean a child star. She’d just been catering a party in L.A., and Sean had been helping her out. One of the guests had turned out to be a producer. He’d been intrigued with Sean, said the boy had potential. Next thing anybody knew, Sean was reading for a part. Next thing after that, he was in a TV series. Fairy tale come true...or nightmare. Because now, according to Beth, Sean was out of control. Beth was fed up with him, and Sean was being shipped out to Idaho for Colin to “set him straight.”

A speck appeared in the sky, grew larger, and soon his son’s charter came in for a landing. Colin watched from the window a moment longer, then realized he should be out there with a greeting. He was halfway across the tarmac when he saw Sean emerge from the plane. Taller, it seemed, than a month ago, and a little on the lanky side. The dark glasses he had on gave him a too-sophisticated look.

Colin raised his hand. Scan didn’t wave back. Instead he went down the steps and, without another glance in Colin’s direction, disappeared into a limousine waiting a short distance off. Then the limo drove away.

At first Colin thought it was just a misunderstanding. He even began to jog after the car. But then he realized what a damn fool he must look like, sprinting across the tarmac and waving his arms at a rapidly vanishing limousine. This was no misunderstanding. Sean had, for all intents and purposes, ditched him.

A few moments later Colin was in his Jeep. His son had a good start on him, and by the time he reached the highway he could barely see the limo way up the road. At least it was headed toward Sobriety. Colin pressed on the gas. Eventually he was right on the limo’s tail. He couldn’t see inside it, though, the windows were that tinted. What did he think he was going to do next—start honking, force the limo off the road? And then give his son a big welcome hug?

He followed the limo all the way into Sobriety, staring at the tinted glass that wouldn’t let him see in. And he couldn’t help noting that the dark barrier between his son and him symbolized their relationship precisely.

Question was...how did he get Sean to open up to him?

IT WAS ALEX’S SECOND visit to Herbie McIntyre’s house. As she used the old-fashioned brass knocker, she half expected to see Dusty the terrier come bouncing out. Instead, when the door opened, she was confronted by a teenage boy. He looked familiar, and no wonder. He was so much a younger version of Colin—the same dark hair, same intent blue eyes, maybe the same stubborn demeanor.

“Hi,” the boy said with interest.

“You’re late, Alex.”

Colin appeared behind the boy, and Alex was struck by the fact that the two were even dressed alike—khaki shorts and a Dodgers T-shirt for the man, faded cutoffs and a Packers T-shirt for the boy.

“Thought maybe you’d decided not to come,” Colin said quickly.

“Actually I’m right on time,” she told him, not seeing the need for that brief amusement in Colin’s eyes. Colin hadn’t argued about her coming over today, but he still hadn’t agreed to be her “guinea pig.”

“This is my son, Sean,” he said. “Sean—Dr. Alex Robbins.”

The boy gave Colin a disgusted glance and wandered back inside the house. Colin gazed after him with a slight frown. It seemed that the McIntyre males were at odds.

“I didn’t know you had a son,” Alex said.

“Unfortunately Sean doesn’t appear to know it, either,” Colin said dryly.

“Anything you want to talk about?”