Her Unlikely Protector Page 2

  Leo folded the map, tucking it and the matchbook into an inside pocket of his leather bomber jacket. “I’m not as helpless as I must look.”

  “Of course not,” Jones said.

  Leo didn’t bother to address the older man’s skepticism. No matter how Leo blustered or tried to defend himself, the man had a point. Leo didn’t know Philly like Jones. Or Lara.

  He only knew he had to find his sister.

  Released with what amounted to a slap on the wrist and encouragement to let the proper authorities find Lara, Leo left the building. Out on the street, he turned up the collar on his coat, though it offered little protection against the biting wind funneled between the tall buildings. When he found Lara he’d use his airline benefits and take them both to Jamaica for a week. That should thaw them out and give her time and space to explain herself. He wanted to know what had prompted this erratic departure from her plans.

  Only three semesters from graduating, Lara wouldn’t throw away all that hard work without a good reason. Or ten. He checked the map and headed for the college library, where Lara had worked during her freshman year. She still preferred to study there. He knew the names of her closest friends and professors. Surely, someone there would have more insight than campus security. They might even have an idea of what had been on her mind before she withdrew.

  Lara had spoken with him about every big decision in the past. Why shut him out of this one?

  Leo had listened to her long list of insecurities when she wanted to join the debate team in middle school. Later, it was concerns over whether or not drama club showed the right balance of interests for her senior year and college applications. He helped her prep for her SAT and together they’d evaluated collegiate programs and reputations when she’d decided to major in political science. Leo had joined her for all but one college visit. Their mother had only shown enthusiasm for Lara’s visit to the University of Kentucky, the place where their parents had met.

  He couldn’t simply go back to Cincinnati and hope she called when she was ready. They’d been a team for her entire life and more than half of his, to compensate for their less-than-reliable parent. Lara had stood by him, too, time and again, when things between him and their mother turned ugly at school events, the grocery store, or even the dinner table.

  There was no way to convince a stranger just how out of character this lack of communication and withdrawal decision were for his sister.

  At the mat just inside the library doors, Leo knocked the slush from his shoes. His feet were freezing in the thin leather dress shoes. He should’ve taken the time to check the weather and pack smarter before he’d hopped on the first flight out here.

  At the checkout desk, he introduced himself to Amy, a fresh-faced sophomore who was familiar with Lara.

  “She, um...” Amy looked around. “I overheard her talking about leaving the RA position.”

  Leo nodded. “Did she mention why?”

  Amy shook her head. “Just said it was just too much.” The girl chewed on her thumbnail. “I’m told third year can be the worst workload in some programs. Professor Whitten is her department mentor. He’s got a reputation as a real hard-ass.”

  That was progress. “Thanks for your time, Amy.” Leo nearly gave the girl a high five. He pulled out a business card and circled his cell phone number. “If you see her or think of anything else, will you give me a call?”

  She took the card as if he’d offered a priceless treasure. “I will.”

  With another thank-you, he went back out into the weather and traced Lara’s most likely path between the library and the dorm he didn’t dare approach again. The entire route was within campus limits.

  No, there wasn’t a protective wall or bubble keeping the outside world away from the students. Anyone could cut across the campus or hang out in the areas between buildings. It had been one of his concerns when they visited. Lara’s common sense and conviction about the program had made it worth the potential risk. She’d reminded him the world wasn’t always a safe place. A lesson they had both learned early in life. But he’d wanted her college life, her first solo foray into the world, to be different than the home they’d survived.

  Leo would never believe she’d toss away this kind of opportunity for something like drugs or a guy. He stamped his feet and blew into his cold hands. He should go back to his hotel and regroup before filing a report with the police. It would give him time to warm up a bit, too.

  He ignored the sting in his fingertips and pulled out his phone to send Lara another text message as he walked. Before he could hit Send, the device rang. He picked up even though he didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Butler? This is Amy.”

  The girl had done some fast thinking. “Hi, Amy.”

  “You probably know this already, but just in case. Lara volunteered a lot last semester over at the Good Samaritan soup kitchen.”

  He’d known his sister participated in outreach and charity work, but not where she’d done either. “That’s a big help. Thanks, Amy.”

  “It’s not a great part of town,” she said. “Be careful.”

  “Thanks.” Ending the call, he vowed to get back to the gym, maybe start on vitamins. He had to do something if everyone in this town thought he couldn’t handle himself.

  He looked up the address and noticed three Good Samaritan locations around the city. The nearest was only a few blocks away, dead center in one of those unsavory pockets Jones had highlighted on the campus map.

  With hope in his stride, Leo headed straight for it.

  * * *

  Aubrey Rawlins loved Philly. She thrived on the pulse and energy. It was far, far from perfect, but it was home and, therefore, as much a part of her as blood and bone. There were plenty of reasons to love the city, reasons that were easier to recall when her feet were warm and she wasn’t trudging through gray slush in the middle of a bitter cold snap.

  She’d been born and raised here, in a city that often got a bad rap in any weather. It was why she stayed, right in the heart of it; why she’d gone through the academy and joined the Philadelphia Police Department. Her efforts as a cop made a difference. A small one to be sure, but the subsequent ripples had the potential to become big improvements.

  Lousy weather aside, she enjoyed being out here and taking action. Walking these streets day in and day out with her partner, Calvin Rice, she’d come to know the people on her beat, building trust and creating a stronger community and healthier neighborhood for everyone involved and invested.

  This neighborhood ran the gamut from college students and staff to hospital professionals and business owners to homeless communities wedged in between. Aubrey and her partner dealt with their share of criminal activity, as well, though she was convinced they were making a dent in those statistics just by being more visible and engaged.

  While Calvin chatted with someone on the corner, she ducked into the deli for her afternoon pick-me-up smoothie and a coffee for her partner. She checked in with the staff and regular customers while she waited. Everyone in the department gave her grief for being too nice and believing the best about people when she should be more pragmatic. Calvin had given her a pair of rose-colored sunglasses after her first month on the job.

  The gift hadn’t been a complimentary gesture or to mark the milestone. No, the glasses were meant to remind her that she’d screwed up and let misplaced trust and affection blind her to trouble brewing right under her nose at home. Before her boyfriend had become her ex.

  Still, she kept those sunglasses taped to the inside of her locker door where she could see them every day. Everyone thought it was because she could handle an inside joke. Not even close. Whenever she opened her locker, she remembered to be herself and keep believing in others without broadcasting her softer side all over the place.

  Smoothie in hand, she walked out to
give Calvin his coffee. Applying the professional, friendly nod of acknowledgment to others out in the weather, they headed back to the precinct to thaw out for a few minutes.

  Aubrey didn’t believe a police officer had to be aloof or appear heartless. The whole point of walking a beat was to know people, the good and the up-to-no-good. Whether or not anyone else hopped on, this was the bandwagon she was driving. She didn’t know how to live any differently and she wasn’t interested in letting circumstances change her. Things happened, with or without a reason. According to her grandmother, Aubrey had been born with this perpetually sunny disposition. Everyone on the planet suffered at some point. She’d taken her share of hard knocks, made plenty of mistakes. Still, she made a daily choice to focus on the positives. It wasn’t always easy, but she did it. If that made her overly compassionate, that was fine.

  She and Calvin were at the precinct door when their radios crackled with a request from the dispatcher. A disturbance at a soup kitchen two blocks away. They exchanged a look and moved in that direction at a quick pace.

  The soup kitchen was located in an older building, but the sidewalks were clear and the door and window glass gleamed behind protective ironwork. As Aubrey and Calvin approached, people slipped outside, one by one, skirting by and darting away into the shadows. She didn’t care for the furtive expressions or the way they hunched into their coats as if by hiding their faces it would make the trouble disappear. Calvin tried to ask for information but no one replied.

  “I’ll head around back,” Calvin said, his dark eyebrows flexed into a frown under the brim of his hat.

  Aubrey nodded.

  By tacit agreement, the notoriously rough neighborhood had designated the soup kitchen as a safe place. Off-limits to drug dealing and most other kinds of trouble, although many of the city’s homeless were unpredictable. The shouting carried to her as she stepped inside. Following the noise, she hurried down the hallway that should have been crowded with people waiting for a hot meal. It was empty.

  The ruckus was coming from the dining room.

  A man she’d never seen in the neighborhood dominated the space. Not by size in particular, but by his presence. His voice, loaded with authority, filled the room as he demanded help.

  The tight band across her shoulders eased a little. She never enjoyed hauling in someone whose internal trouble or rough day spilled out onto others. So often those situations were exacerbated by people who lacked control over themselves or their circumstances. This situation felt different. Clearly, this person wasn’t having a great day, but he seemed in control as he thrust a cell phone at every person in sight.

  She pegged him at six feet, average build. His dark blond hair was neat and trim and his face clean-shaven. The leather bomber jacket, unzipped, was fashionably distressed and his shoes were polished, though damp from the weather. He should be on a magazine cover or front and center of a movie poster, not here in the Good Samaritan dining room.

  Mentally, she shook off the reaction. He was causing a scene and upsetting the people in the neighborhood she was sworn to protect. She set her smoothie down on the nearest table.

  “He’s new,” Aubrey observed as the manager joined her. In the hallway, Calvin blocked the rear exit. “What’s the problem?”

  “He came in asking questions about his sister.” The manager frowned, aiming her sharp chin in the man’s direction. “He’s convinced all of us know the girl and just aren’t talking.”

  “Did he give you a name?”

  At her question, the man turned, his eyes locked on to Aubrey. “Great, the cops are here.” The sincerity in his words startled her. “You can help me, Officer. Make them tell me where my sister is.”

  Right. As if she’d side with a bully, even if he was the well-dressed and handsome type. “Sir, you’re causing a scene,” she said, approaching slowly. “Our neighbors come in for a hot meal and they like to eat it in peace.”

  “They can eat.” He turned a circle. “They can eat while they tell me where my sister is. I know they recognize her.” His voice cracked. “Someone has to know her.”

  “Come on over here.” Aubrey motioned him closer, away from the center of the room. “Show me your sister’s picture. Does she live in the neighborhood? Maybe I’ve seen her.”

  Behind him the manager mouthed her thanks and returned to the kitchen to get her staff and volunteers back on track. The crowd would undoubtedly be lighter than expected after this. Rumors and warnings spread quickly within this community. Aubrey smothered her irritation so she wouldn’t escalate the situation. Whoever this man was, she had an obligation to protect him, as well, even from himself.

  “This is my sister, Lara Butler.” The man held out his phone and showed Aubrey a picture of a lovely young woman. The sibling resemblance was strong. They shared the same dark blond hair and deep brown eyes. In the picture, her eyes sparkled and her lips were tipped up as if she was about to burst into laughter. She looked like a very happy person.

  “She’s been here,” he said. “They recognized her.” He swiveled around, pointing at a cluster of people hunched over bowls of hot stew.

  Aubrey knew the two men and one woman he’d indicated. The trio was usually a stabilizing force in the community, inside the shelters and out. If they weren’t talking, there was a good reason for their silence. Most likely, they’d been stringing the stranger along to keep him away from others.

  The dispatcher’s voice came over her radio, asking for an update. A few regulars nearby flinched and Aubrey let Calvin answer. “Let’s talk over here.” Aubrey led the man into the hallway between the kitchen and delivery door.

  Calvin moved back a few paces, giving her room and making sure they had the man cornered. “Your sister—Lara, you said?”

  He nodded.

  “She lives in this area?” she asked.

  “She’s a student,” he replied. “Well, she was a student according to the school. Third year.” Worry creased his brow as he corrected himself. “She’s not on campus.”

  “Could you show me your identification, please?”

  He handed over an Ohio driver’s license. Leo Butler, twenty-nine years old, Cincinnati address. “Spring semester just started, right?”

  He nodded.

  “If she’s a third year, I’m assuming your sister is over eighteen.”

  “She’s twenty-one.” He pushed a hand through his short hair, mussing it so bits of gold caught in the overhead light. “I’m aware she’s an adult and all that implies. I’m also one hundred percent sure she’s in trouble.”

  And Aubrey was one hundred percent sure she needed to get her mind off Mr. Butler’s looks and deal with the situation properly. “What makes you so sure?”

  “Because she hasn’t spoken to me since she came back to school. It’s been eight days of silence. I know she got off the plane safely here in Philly and I thought she was all set, but according to the school, she suddenly withdrew from classes.”

  “Sounds like the two of you are close.”

  He nodded, morose. “Someone in there has to know something,” he said. “One of her coworkers told me she volunteered here.”

  “Someone in there very well might know her,” Aubrey allowed. “They’re not cooperating because they don’t know you. It takes time to earn their trust. Even then, it’s no guarantee they have the information you need.”

  “I’m sorry.” He leaned back and thumped his head against the cinderblock wall lightly. “I was out of line. I’m really sorry.”

  The apology made her want to comfort him. She resisted. “You said Lara volunteered here. Do you know when or how often?”

  He shook his head.

  “Did you speak with the staff?”

  “I tried.” His eyes narrowed and he slid a glare in the direction of the kitchen. “They all denied knowing her, too.”

 
; Irritation returned with a vengeance, prickling across the nape of her neck. The staff here did wonderful, thankless work. “And you assume they’re lying.” She returned his identification. “There is a high turnover rate for volunteers in these facilities. Some people come in once and call it a job well-done.”

  “I offered to pitch in,” he said. “To work while they talked.”

  That surprised her. “What happened?”

  He scrubbed the back of his neck. “The lady with the ladle said I was a distraction.”

  He was certainly distracting her. Her fingertips tingled as she studied his strong jawline and the subtle cleft in his chin. Down, girl. She didn’t have any business getting tangled up with a stranger in town willing to raise havoc in a soup kitchen.

  “This was supposed to be a lead,” he said. Again, his head thumped the wall. The man couldn’t seem to stand still. “I didn’t mean to lose my temper,” he said. “It doesn’t happen. Hasn’t. Not in years. But she’s my little sister. I have to find her.”

  It took every ounce of willpower not to wrap him in a hug and tell him they’d get out there and look until they found Lara. “We all have our breaking point,” she managed.

  Losing track of a sister was clearly that point for Mr. Butler. She couldn’t find much fault in that, having dealt frequently with people who’d done far worse for much weaker reasons.

  Aubrey waved Calvin over and introduced him. “Tell us about your sister,” she said.

  “She’s of legal age.” He dropped his head back against the wall, staring up at the flat, fluorescent lights creating dash marks on the ceiling the length of the hallway. He rattled off stats about his sister and her goals and efforts in a glum tone that squeezed her heart. As a cop, compassion was part of the job, though she wasn’t supposed to get sucked in by every sob story.

  Mr. Butler’s story rang true for her, maybe because his sister reportedly shared Aubrey’s concern over the city’s homeless community.

  It was no hardship to study his striking features while he spoke. Not the point. She chalked up her fascination with him to underused hormones. She hadn’t bothered dating much after the disaster with her ex. “Come with us to the station, Mr. Butler, and we can get that missing person report filed.”