Finding Amy. Carol Steward

his gaze and smiled softly. “Interesting view, isn’t it?”

      He shrugged, dismissing her baited question. “Interesting to who?”

      She nudged him. “I have news for you, Samuel, you’re not that discreet. Face it, you Vance men don’t look if you don’t like the woman.”

      He glanced back at Jessica, angry that Emily had caught him. He could try to deny Emily’s accusation, but he’d never succeed. “There’s an exception to every rule.”

      Emily’s laughter bounced off the colonial pane windows surrounding the Broadmoor Hotel ballroom and practically shattered the crystal chandelier. Sam felt as if a spotlight had just turned on them. His dad glanced over and headed toward him and Emily.

      Sam didn’t want to talk business right now. Especially not when his parents were together. He had questions for his father that couldn’t be asked, let alone answered in public. “Now look what you’ve done,” he said, razzing Emily. He scoped out their proximity to the exits. “It’s too far to the door to escape.”

      “Don’t be silly, why would you want to do that? Look, your mom and dad are bringing the woman with them,” Emily murmured before she complimented his parents. “They look so young and in love.”

      Sam turned away from the oncoming trio, intending to take the shortest route out of the ballroom. Leave it to an engagement to put his mother in matchmaker mode. She and Mrs. Montgomery were both anxious for their families to grow. “I’m leaving, care to join me?”

      Emily followed. “Sam, what has gotten into you?”

      “Let’s just say it’s business related. And the last thing I want to talk about tonight is work.”

      “You and your father have to learn to communicate now that he’s retired, Sam. He’s home. Make the best of it.”

      “He’s here all right. In my face. On the job and off.” Just like Jessica Mathers.

      Sam looked over his shoulder, relieved to find his mother introducing his dad and Jessica to one of her bridge club buddies. He took Emily by the elbow and zigzagged through the elegant surroundings where all of Colorado Springs’s socialites, and a few of the working stiffs like himself, gathered in party attire. Sam removed his sport coat, hoping to cool off outside.

      Emily simply waited for further explanation.

      Sam grumbled about the impromptu celebration. “I’m not much for these shindigs.”

      Emily gave him a dirty look, even as he opened the door to the terrace for her.

      “Samuel Vance. You should be happy for them.” Emily scolded him as only a “sister” could.

      Unsuccessful at ignoring her scowl, he conceded. “I am happy. Believe me. I’m happier than anyone in this city that Adam and Kate are still here to celebrate.”

      “I hear the wedding’s at the end of the month. Sounds like they’re anxious to return to the clinic in Santa Maria de Flores. Now can you make a little better attempt to enjoy yourself?”

      He shook his head. “My mood has nothing to do with the party. I told you that. And I’d rather drop the subject.”

      As if she knew better than to try to intervene between the Vance men, Emily remained silent. Sam looked to the heavens and said a prayer. The August sun dangled above Pikes Peak, promising a colorful sunset. That alone assured Sam that God was in control, tonight and every night.

      It suddenly dawned on Sam that Emily’s silence might have more to do with her divorce from his brother than anything else. Stress built up inside law enforcement personnel, issues that couldn’t be shared, even with loved ones. Sometimes especially because they were loved ones. “I’m sorry, Emily, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

      “That part of the Vance life just never goes away, does it. Everything’s top secret.”

      Something in her comment sounded like a freshly opened wound. “You heard from Peter?”

      Emily leaned against the planter filled with bright red geraniums and tiny white flowers. Her voice softened. “No, I gave up on that long ago. You don’t expect anything from an undercover agent. That way you’re not disappointed.”

      “Even a do-better like you won’t make it to heaven telling lies like that, Doc.” He reached out and offered a brotherly hug. “You have every right to be disappointed. We just have to trust God is watching over Peter, wherever he is.”

      “Sounds like too serious a conversation for a party.” Sam’s mother stepped between them, as if suggesting something clandestine was going on. “Lovely party, isn’t it?”

      Sam and Emily both nodded obediently.

      Lidia placed her hand on Jessica’s arm and looked at Emily. “Jessica Mathers, this is Dr. Emily Armstrong, our son Peter’s ex-wife. She’s still one of the family.”

      Jessica’s rose-colored lips twitched. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Armstrong.”

      “Drop the formalities, please.” Emily greeted her mother-in-law with a hug while talking to Jessica. “It’s nice to meet you.” Emily glanced at Sam and silently chuckled. “It’s nice to finally put a face to all the stories I hear about your work at the Women’s Shelter.”

      “Thank you. I couldn’t do much without our wonderful volunteers,” Jessica said, carefully keeping her focus on Emily.

      “I’ve been meaning to call, but it’s been incredibly hectic at the hospital now that the renovations are complete. Don’t hesitate to put my name on your list. I’m not always available, but I’ll be happy to do whatever I can to help. We have to do something to stop this epidemic of broken homes.”

      Sam observed the instant connection between the women, wishing he could be paged back to work about now. He knew better than to hope for the impossible. He wasn’t on call tonight. Not on call, but always on duty, as the gun in his ankle holster reminded him.

      Though Sam purposely avoided looking at his parents, as if he were a ten-year-old awaiting the doom of a major scolding, he felt his father’s forbidding figure standing guard, keeping Sam in his place. Some things never changed.

      “I’ll look forward to working with you on the next fund-raiser,” Jessica said in a silky voice.

      Sam counted the seconds until the firing squad confronted him with the one woman he longed to forget. His mother’s Italian accent expressed a sense of excitement that Sam had no desire to feel right now.

      “Jessica, this is our son, Samuel. He’s a detective with the Vice, Narcotics and Investigations Division of the Colorado Springs Police Department. Sammy…”

      Ouch. Now he knew he was ten again, and in huge trouble. He didn’t even hear the rest of the introduction. When would his mother realize a detective didn’t go by “Sammy”? Somewhere in the distance he heard Emily chuckle.

      Jessica’s mouth tightened when she glanced up to him. Her almond-shaped eyes were dark with mascara and her lips a tempting shade of soft pink. Her eyes narrowed, as if she, too, wanted to turn and run.

      “Yes,” she replied. “We met once, under not-so-wonderful circumstances.”

      So she remembers, too.

      Jessica moistened her lips. “I hope this meeting will be a little less stressful…for both of us.”

      Don’t bet on it. Sam felt his heart beat faster. Suddenly it seemed as if they were standing in the middle of a desert, and the lake was just a mirage. “How are you doing, Mrs. Mathers?” Against his better judgment, Sam offered his hand.

      “Pardon me for not shaking hands—my back is bothering me tonight. I’m sure it sounds strange, but lifting my arm is torture. Hopefully a week from now, that will change.”

      “Oh?” Emily interjected.