LITMIR.BIZ

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when Ryan was in the house for any length of time, the shepherd was his shadow, a silent, black presence that glided through the emptiness, always near but never touching.

      Ginny had given the dog to Ryan for his birthday. The day before she’d died.

      Slowing down, he jogged past the lights another hundred yards until he was finally walking instead of running. At that point he turned and splashed into the surf, his sweat-drenched body seeking the cool relief of the water.

      He swam parallel to the beach, his strokes sure and steady. In the beginning, he’d always headed out, the lights of the beachfront homes shrinking as he put as much distance between himself and them as he could. Then he’d realized the danger in that. The temptation to keep going—until he couldn’t—was more than he could handle. Something deep inside him had made him stop and now he swam this way. Along the edge of the surf but not in it. Near the beach, but not too close. Out as far as he could…but not too far.

      His strong broad strokes brought him quickly to the point where the lights twinkled. He stayed still and treaded the water, reluctant to get out, his mind going back to the woman he’d talked to today. Maria Worley. She obviously had no idea what she was doing to him. His anger sharpened as he thought about the leave. If he didn’t work, he wasn’t sure what would happen to him, but he knew one thing: It wouldn’t be good.

      He emerged from the surf, salty rivulets running down his chest as his feet found purchase in the sand. He was halfway to the deck and the waiting dog when he paused and looked back over his shoulder. The Gulf waters called to him. He listened for a bit, then he continued to the deck, dismissing the temptation.

      For now.

      MARIA PULLED the Toyota up to the curb and shut off the engine, her gaze cutting across the seat to the other side of the car. Christopher was slouched down as far as he could possibly get, his earphones crammed so tightly into his ears, it looked painful. Despite that fact, the music still leaked out. Nine Inch Nails. “The Day the World Went Away,” his favorite. He probably wished it was “The Day His Mother Went Away.”

      “We’re here,” she announced in a fake cheerful voice. “Let’s go.”

      Pretending he couldn’t hear, he ignored her, his ploy so obvious it was might have been amusing under different circumstance. He was punishing her for the decrees she’d issued. Friday Maria had rescheduled all of her patients, spending the time instead at his school, talking to each of his teachers as they’d become available. She’d spoken to his counselor as well. Caring and thoughtful, they’d all tried to be helpful, but no one had a magic answer. As usual, Maria was on her own. Finally, after thinking about it long and hard, she’d forbidden him to go anywhere after school for the rest of the month. She’d also reinstated a rule she’d relaxed last year. He had to call her the minute he got home. He was supposed to do that before, but she’d eased up on that. No more.

      He’d been so desperate to get out of the house, he’d actually agreed to come with her to Angel’s Attic. Now that they were here, Maria found herself second-guessing her decision. He was being so obnoxious she almost wished he’d stayed home. At least then she’d be able to have a good time.

      She shook her head at her thoughts—what kind of mother was she?—then reached over and patted his arm. He turned to look at her and she nodded toward the house. “We’re here.”

      He opened his car door without speaking and climbed outside.

      With a sigh, Maria followed and they headed up a sidewalk already growing crowded. Someone had strung a line of Japanese lanterns along the railing of the front porch and in the warm spring evening, their lights twinkled brightly. They were miles from the expensive beachfront subdivisions but the air held a sea breeze all the same. Maria’s eyes went over the guests. They ranged from previous tenants of the shelter to cops to a group of teachers who helped run the home for battered women.

      As Christopher headed for a side yard where a pickup game of basketball was taking place, Maria made her way to the dozen or so tables that held the auction items. Displayed were a variety of things that would be sold to raise money for the shelter, including a fishing excursion, dinner for two at the Marina Café and a hundred dollars worth of groceries from Delchamps, the local grocery store. It would be a silent auction; people had already filled out slips and left them in baskets by the items. The winning bids would be announced after dinner. Maria walked slowly down the line trying to decide. A full day at the new spa for her or two-hour Jet Ski lesson for Christopher? Maria reached for the slip in front of the Jet Ski offering just as Lena walked up.

      “Hey! I didn’t know you liked to ride those things!” Lena smiled and nodded toward the photo of the purple-and-yellow Jet Ski on the table. “I’ve got one. I’ll teach you how to use it anytime you want.”

      Maria returned Lena’s smile then acknowledged Andres, her husband, who waited patiently beside her. They’d had a few problems before their marriage last year, but they seemed so happy and contented now, Maria felt a sudden touch of envy. She and Reed had never stood that way, their arms wrapped around each other’s waists, their eyes meeting frequently with silent messages that told everyone how much they really loved each other.

      “This is for Chris,” Maria said, holding up the ticket. “But if I win, things would have to change before he could even think about redeeming it.”

      Lena smiled sympathetically as Andres made a clucking sound. “What’s the problem, chica?”

      Andres was Cuban, and the Spanish term of endearment rolled off his tongue with ease.

      Maria shook her head. “Let’s just say if he continues as is, he’s going to show up on the Most Wanted list for forgery.”

      “Uh-oh…that sounds bad.”

      Maria nodded her agreement to Lena’s pronouncement just as someone across the room called to Andres. He excused himself and headed off and the two women turned back to each other.

      “You know why Chris is doing all this, don’t you?” Lena asked.

      “Of course, I do. He’s mad because his father left him,” Maria said. “I know why—I just don’t know what to do about it.” She made a noise that was half frustration, half resignation. “I feel so helpless sometimes. All this training, all my degrees…and I’m an utter klutz when it comes to my own kid.”

      Lena squeezed her arm softly. “Haven’t you heard that old saying about the cobbler’s kids going without shoes?”

      “Maybe that is the case. All I know is that I love him, but I don’t know how to handle him.” She gave Lena the details of the forged signature and the punishment she’d leveled. “I couldn’t believe it,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s never done anything like that before. Never.”

      Lena looked thoughtful for a moment. “The kids he’s hanging out with—do you know who they are?”

      “I’ve met some of them. They’re not really the kind of friends I’d like him to have.”

      “Give me their names,” Lena said. “The juvie guys know all the troublemakers and I’d be happy to ask. Let’s see if they’re on the list of bad boys or just regular, annoying kids.”

      “That would be terrific,” Maria said gratefully. “I’ve talked to as many of the parents of his friends as I can, but it seems like there’s never enough time. I still haven’t met some of them. I’d love to know more.”

      “No problem,” Lena said. “It shouldn’t take any time at all.”

      They finished going down the line of auction items after that, Maria feeling somewhat more hopeful. It wasn’t until after dinner and they were all ready to leave that Lena pulled her aside.

      “I just wanted you to know I talked with Ryan this morning. We went over the terms of his leave. I’ve given him office duty for six weeks. If he’s made some progress at that point, then I’ll reconsider the situation and put him back on active status.”

      “Six

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