Star-Crossed Parents. C.J. Carmichael

thought. “That’s quite a distance from here. Where did you two meet?”

      His stomach dropped when he saw the look that passed between her and Josh. At first it didn’t seem as if they were going to answer his question. “Josh?” he prodded gently.

      “On the Internet. A few months ago.” His son squared his shoulders, unconsciously taking a stance that told Sam he was expecting criticism and was prepared to do battle against it.

       It’s a new world out there, Sam told himself. He’d seen plenty of articles in the paper about Internet dating sites and such things becoming more popular. No sense overreacting.

      And yet…was the girl as old as she looked?

      “Your family knows you’re here?”

      She nodded.

      “Cut it with the questions, Dad.” Josh sounded annoyed. “We’ve got to get going.” Josh had slung Taylor’s pack on one shoulder. With his free arm he took her hand.

      “See you later.”

      Taylor twisted to face him, even as Josh pulled her toward his waiting van. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Wallace.”

      Polite girl. But she sounded even younger than she looked. Just how old was the girl?

      Sam watched after the couple, not sure how to react. His son was nineteen, an adult under the law. Hopefully the girl was, too. Should he have asked to make sure?

      As Josh’s van pulled away from the station, Sam’s sense of unease grew. He wished Taylor had looked him in the eyes when she’d told him her family knew where she was.

       CHAPTER TWO

      L EIGH REFERRED TO the MapQuest directions she had taped to the dashboard, next to the cup holder. From the Washington Bridge she was supposed to merge onto I-95.

      She did a shoulder-check, then shuddered. A steady stream of cars came up from behind her. Oh, God. Why did all the drivers have to hang on to each other’s bumpers? She was never going to be able to make a safe lane change.

      But she had to.

      She switched on the indicator light, shoulder-checked again, then steered the car to the next lane. Mercifully, the vehicle behind her made room.

       Oh, God, she thought again. This traffic was unrelenting. Thank goodness she didn’t need to drive very often.

      In fact, if the guy at the car rental agency had known just how rarely she did drive, he probably would have thought twice before handing her these keys.

      Living in Manhattan, she had no need for a car, which was lucky because she had no interest in them, either. She couldn’t even recall the make of this one. It was red and had four doors. When the needle on the gauge fell near empty, it would need to be filled with gasoline. That was the sum total of her automotive knowledge, and she could only pray she wouldn’t be called upon to figure out anything else.

      She glanced at the MapQuest directions again. In seven-point-three miles she would have to take the Hutchinson Parkway North exit and then almost immediately take another exit to the left.

      Usually, Taylor navigated for her. She had a natural sense of direction and was good at reading maps. On top of all that, she had common sense, which was why this whole escapade just didn’t compute.

      Taylor wasn’t the kind of kid to fall in love over the Internet, then run off for a secret meeting. Well, she’d left a note. But a discussion beforehand would have been far more acceptable. Not to mention mature.

      If Taylor thought being eighteen and graduating high school was all it took to make you grown up, she had a lot to learn.

      “Hey, buddy!” Leigh slowed as a blue car from the right suddenly came into her lane, practically on top of her. Immediately she forgave every rude thing New York taxi drivers had ever said in her presence. Talk about job stress.

      Her cell phone rang and she glanced at it, worried. She needed both hands on the wheel. But what if it was Taylor?

      She picked it up to check the call display. It was Wenda, the office manager at work. Before she’d left home, Leigh had called and left a message that she wouldn’t be able to make it in on Friday. Oh, and by the way, Taylor’s graduation party had been canceled.

      Wenda was probably panicking right now, but Leigh would have to talk to her later. Right now, the only call worth taking in this traffic was one that might be from her daughter.

      Fear tightened her stomach, squeezed her throat. Taylor was okay, she kept telling herself, but what if she wasn’t? Only rarely did Leigh regret the fact that she was a single mother. This was one of those times. It would be nice to have a husband to lean on right now. Someone who knew Taylor and who understood that this sort of behavior just wasn’t like her.

      The police didn’t get it. Her call had not been treated with the urgency it deserved. In their eyes Taylor was an adult. The fact that she’d left a note proved she was acting of her own free will.

      Just this winter, Leigh had been required to sign the application for Taylor’s college admission. Now, if Taylor felt like it, she could enlist in the military and go to war.

      As if a few months and a birthday were all it took to make you a grown-up.

      The world was a crazy place.

      A car on Leigh’s tail honked, then pulled out and passed. It seemed to Leigh that the vehicles on both sides of her were driving much faster than she was. She pressed a little harder on the accelerator, gripped the steering wheel a little more tightly.

      This was terrifying.

      Suddenly, spending a few thousand on a cab fare seemed like a brilliant idea. If only she could take the bus, as Taylor had been smart enough to do. But there was no time. She probably couldn’t get to Jefferson before Taylor did, but Leigh was going to get there as fast as possible.

      Before PartyMan had a chance to…

      No, she couldn’t think about that.

      According to MapQuest, she had over three hundred miles ahead of her, six hours of driving.

      Six hours that her daughter would be at PartyMan’s mercy…

      “D ID YOU CATCH the Red Sox game last night, Uncle Sam?”

      “Huh?” Sam flipped a page in the Lands’ End catalogue. Lately, his sister had been at him about his wardrobe. It seemed like every item he owned was wearing out. Even the cleaners had told him he needed some new shirts. But what colors? What size? Susan had always bought his clothes for him.

      “The Mets trounced them.”

      He closed the catalogue and looked at Robin, who was grinning at him as he read the sports section of the Boston Globe. Robin loved baseball, like just about everyone else in Jefferson—except for Josh and Robin’s mom, Kate.

      “That rookie pitcher for the Mets is hot. Some say he reminds them of you, in the early years.”

      “Is that right?” He opened the catalogue again and heard Robin sigh. Poor kid was always trying to engage him in baseball talk. You’d think his mother’s aversion to the subject would have turned him off, but it hadn’t. Sam’s own feelings about the game were ambivalent. Baseball had given him a lot, but it had cost him plenty, too.

      “Say, when you were pitching, did you ever—”

      The sound of a bell cut Robin short. Outdoor lights illuminated a cherry-colored Ford Fusion as it pulled up to the pumps.

      “I’ll get this one.” Sam tossed the catalogue behind the counter, then moved briskly toward the car. The Fusion’s plates told him it was a rental from New York. The driver was an attractive brunette, who must not have noticed this was a full-service station because she was out of the driver’s seat before he could ask her what grade of gas she wanted.

      She