The Runaway Daughter. Anna DeStefano
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knows when Sam’ll be back. He’s already in a bad mood.”
“I’m not leaving without you, Claire.” Maggie put her hand on the door to keep her friend from shutting it in her face. No way was she giving up this easily. “Where’s Max?”
“In his crib. Sleeping, thank God. I’m trying to clean while I’ve got a few minutes.”
“’Cause Sam’s too lazy to pick up after himself?”
“No, because he was hopping mad about the place when he left.” Claire wiped eyes that looked swollen from crying. “I don’t want to deal with him coming back and getting mad all over again. It scares Max so bad, all that yelling.”
“Let me in.” Maggie reached inside and squeezed her friend’s hand. “Let me help clean. You look dead tired.”
With shaking fingers, Claire slid the chain back and swung the door wide. Tired wasn’t the right word. It looked as if she hadn’t slept at all last night. And she hadn’t been exaggerating about the apartment. Dirty clothes, dishes and baby things were strewn everywhere.
“Ew.” Maggie pried a container of Chinese takeout from where it had spilled and adhered to the coffee table.
“I don’t know how I could let everything get so filthy.” Claire took the mess from Maggie and tossed it into the unlined wicker trash can in the corner. “I’m just—”
“You’re just a new mom with no help around here, who’s trying to take care of a baby entirely on your own. Where’s this family of Sam’s? Why hasn’t his mother pitched in, if things are this bad?”
“Sam won’t ask Betty for help. His family never comes here. We always go to their farm out near Pineview. Once I get things under control, we’ll be fine.” Claire picked up a pile of soiled laundry. Tripping over a stuffed bunny, she caught herself on the end table beside the couch and toppled a shoe box to the floor. It landed on its side. A revolver rolled out.
“Oh my God.” Claire reached for the gun.
“Don’t touch it!” Maggie pulled her away. “Who knows what it’s been used for.”
“What?” Fear filled her friend’s hoarse whisper.
“You said Sam and those guys were talking about a drive-by shooting. What if—”
“No.” Claire sat on the couch, shaking her head slowly. “I can’t believe that Sam—”
“Of course you believe it!” Keeping quiet about Sam’s connection to Oakwood’s drug problem had tortured Maggie all through her parent’s send-off dinner, into the night, and right up until she’d kissed her mom and dad goodbye that morning. Then she’d all but run from her uncle’s good-buddy suggestion that they spend the day together. “What I can’t figure out is how you can believe it, and still be here with your baby.”
“Exactly where am I supposed to go, with no money and no way of getting any, except from Sam and his family?”
“Call your parents.” Maggie sat and put an arm around her friend. Claire was out of time and easy options. “You said they live somewhere near Williamsburg. That’s not so far way. I’m sure if they knew—”
“My parents are hundreds of miles from here, and don’t be so sure they’d help. When I left, they were lecturing me about being a high-school dropout. Add an unwed mother to the bargain, and—”
“They’ll want you back. And they’ll want Max, too, once they have a chance to know him. And you can stay with me until you reach them.”
“What about when Sam finds out? His mom won’t let me take Max—”
“No one has to know you’re at my house. My parents are on their way to New York.”
Maggie already missed her parents, and they would be back in a few weeks. Claire hadn’t seen her family in almost two years. She must be dying inside.
“It’s the weekend,” Maggie pressed. “We’ll lie low and figure this out together. Sam’ll think you skipped town or something.”
Claire was shaking her head again. She seemed to have run out of arguments. Maggie slipped the gun back inside the shoe box by nudging it with the lid. Then using the toe of her sneaker, she slid the whole thing as far away as she could.
“It’s not safe here. My uncle will help you keep Max away from Sam and his family for a few days, and by Monday you’ll be on your way to Virginia.”
Maggie heard herself make the promise and prayed Tony would play along. It wasn’t like she and her uncle were überclose or anything. He was fun to hang out with, but serious stuff wasn’t his style. But after she showed up with Claire, what choice would he have? Maggie wasn’t taking no for an answer, from him or her friend.
“Once you’re back with your parents, they’ll work out how to legally keep Max with you and away from the Walkers.”
And you can help my dad and his deputies nail Sam’s ass to the wall.
“I…I’d have to pack up all of Max’s stuff. I…I don’t know…”
“I’ll help.” Maggie pulled her friend to her feet and half shoved her into the other room. Sam might come back at any minute. “Just bring whatever Max’ll need for the next couple of days. You can borrow some of my clothes, and your parents will help you with the rest once you get to Virginia.”
A peek inside the portable crib between the bed and the wall confirmed that Max was sleeping soundly. From the mess in the closet, Claire produced an oversize duffel that Maggie helped her fill with diapers, baby clothes and the tiny toys Max chewed on almost constantly, now that he was teething.
“What about food?” Maggie couldn’t zip the overflowing bag, so she left it gaping open. “Do you need anything we can’t pick up at the grocery?”
“I’m still nursing mostly.” Claire set aside the extra blanket she’d taken from the playpen and headed for the bedroom door. “There’s half a box of rice cereal in the kitchen, and a few bottles of the fruit I’ve been trying to get him to eat—”
The front door swung open with a thump, cutting Claire off. Maggie grabbed her friend’s arm and pulled her back into the room. Together, they tiptoed to the corner by the crib. Claire held her finger to her lips, an unnecessary bid for silence.
“Damn, man, you weren’t kidding about this place,” an unfamiliar male voice said. “It smells like baby poop in here.”
“It’s the damn diaper pail in the bathroom,” Sam groused in his distinctive Southern drawl. “Claire?” he called.
The girls froze, glancing nervously to where Max was snoozing the morning away.
“Thank God,” Sam said. “She must have taken the brat somewhere.”
“You as a daddy,” the other man joked. “I never thought you were stupid enough to get a piece of white trash like Claire Morton pregnant.”
“Yeah?” Sam’s chuckle was a menacing thing. Beside Maggie, Claire was shaking in her sandals. “I guess it’s about as stupid as you nailing Digger Hudson last month, in broad daylight a block from the youth center. Now the cops are crawling all over the place. It’s cutting into my business.”
“Is that why you brought me down here, to bust my hump about the drive-by? Man, that was weeks ago. I just ran your shit halfway to Memphis and back, and I dumped a small fortune in your lap. Don’t that count for nothin’? Digger was skimming half your take. You told me to take care of him.”
“Quietly, Marcus. I told you to take care of him real quiet-like. Now the town’s in even more of an uproar.”
“So what? You’ve got a new dealer for Digger’s territory, and he’s doing more business than you can handle. The kids around here are