As the car rolled along, Claire flicked him a sideways glance, saw him studying her face.
“So she talked about me,” he said. “What else did she tell you?”
“She said your father was a steelworker. That you worked with him at the mill part-time to put yourself through school. She said your mother left when you were nine years old.”
“That’s right. The same age as Sam. She tell you my dad worked like a dog just to put food on the table? He was a good man but he was a lousy father. Mostly I had to fend for myself. It wasn’t the kind of life I’d want for a kid of mine.”
Claire made no reply. Laura had told her Ben had been pretty much on his own since grade school, since the day his mother walked out of the house. She’d said she admired what he had made of himself.
“What happened to Laura’s parents?” Ben asked as she merged onto the 59 Freeway heading north. “They were nice people. Samuel was her father’s name.”
“They died in a car wreck six months after Sam was born. I think that was part of the reason she started drinking. She wasn’t good at handling responsibility.”
Ben’s jaw looked tight. “I would have helped with the boy. All she had to do was ask.”
Claire didn’t tell him that Laura hadn’t asked him for help because she didn’t want to burden him. The reckless, devil-may-care boy she had loved in college wanted excitement and adventure. He hadn’t been ready for marriage or fatherhood. Even years later when he had come to L.A., he wasn’t ready to settle down.
Or at least that was what Laura believed.
Ben looked down at the file. “Says she married a guy named Tom Schofield in 2001. Divorced a year later. No kids. Why not?”
“Laura said she didn’t love him. She said she tried to, but it just wouldn’t work.”
He looked up as they took the turnoff to the airport. “That night in L.A....she told me she was on the pill.”
Claire could feel those icy eyes on her. He was waiting for her to say something, but she didn’t want to betray Laura’s trust.
“Tell me the truth,” he pressed. “Did she get pregnant on purpose?”
A shaft of weariness slid through her. “Laura wasn’t on the pill, if that’s what you’re asking. She wanted your baby. There was no way to be sure she’d get pregnant that night, but she was happy when she found out.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“As it turned out, she wasn’t well suited to be a mother. She loved Sam, but the responsibilities of raising a child were just too much for her to handle.”
Ben fell silent, but she could feel the anger rolling off him in waves. Laura had borne him a son. She had needed his help, but she had refused to ask.
Neither had Claire. And some of his anger was definitely aimed at her.
* * *
They missed the 11:10 flight out of Bush International, but got tickets for the 2:20. Ben had wanted to stop by the Atlas Security office, where he worked as a freelance P.I., and put the company computer whiz, Sol Greenway, to work digging up something’anything’on Troy Bridger. But it was Sunday, and after Alex and Sabrina’s wedding and late-night reception, everyone was sleeping in. No one would be at work till Monday morning.
If he found anything that would give Sol a place to start, he’d call him at home. The kid was always willing to help.
While they waited in the busy terminal for the later flight, Ben went through Claire’s files a second time. The information on Sam tugged at a place in his heart he didn’t know he still had. His son was a straight-A student. He played baseball and soccer. His teachers liked him and he had lots of friends.
Clearly Sam was a lot more outgoing than Ben ever had been.
A document he had missed the first time slid out from behind another piece of paper. Sam’s birth certificate. The father was listed as Benjamin Slocum. It made him mad all over again.
“Why didn’t the welfare department call me? I thought they went after deadbeat dads for child support.”
Claire’s gaze swung to his. She had big green eyes, he noticed, though it was hard to tell with a pair of reading glasses perched on the end of her nose as she read the paper.
“You weren’t a deadbeat dad. You didn’t even know you had a son. And they didn’t go after you because Laura stopped taking assistance after just a few months. She thought it was demeaning.”
“I’m not surprised. Her mother was a member of the DAR.”
“Daughters of the American Revolution.”
“That’s right. She was always proud of her family heritage. She had a lot of self-esteem’at least back then.”
The terminal buzzed with noise around them, making it a little hard to talk. “So if she wasn’t getting assistance, why were you still involved?”
“I told you, because we were friends. Better than friends, if you want the truth. I can’t explain it. I was a couple of years younger. At first I felt sorry for her, raising a kid by herself. As I got to know her, something just clicked between us. And I admired her for trying to make it on her own.”
“Did she?”
“She worked as a secretary in an insurance company. She drank too much, but she managed to control it enough to keep her job.” Those big green eyes zeroed in on him. “And there was Sam. He’s really special. Smart. Tough. Yet amazingly loving. He took care of Laura more than she took care of him. You can be proud of him, Ben.”
His throat felt tight. He had a kid named Sam. A son he could be proud of. He was out there somewhere and he was in trouble.
“I’m going to find him. I won’t stop until I do.” He felt Claire’s hand on his arm, looked down to see long, slim fingers, no wedding ring.
“We’re going to find him, Ben. I promised Laura I’d make sure Sam got a good home. I intend to keep my word.”
* * *
With the time change, the plane landed at 6:00 p.m. The October weather wasn’t much different in L.A. than in Houston, eighty degrees, clear skies and sunshine.
“There’s no reason for you to stay in a hotel,” Claire said to Ben as she wheeled her carry-on along the crowded corridors then took the escalator to the ground-floor exit. “I’ve got an apartment in Santa Monica. You’d have your own room. We can brainstorm, work the leads you come up with.”
She shoved through the terminal doors and stepped out on the sidewalk, where a heavy gust of wind hit her, plastering the narrow skirt of her conservative yellow suit to her legs. A few feet away, buses and taxis rushed past. Cars crawled along and limousines darted in and out, picking up the rich and famous who frequented the L.A. airport.
Ben shook his head. “Look, Claire, I’m a private investigator. Finding people is one of the things I do. The information you’ve given me is going to help. If I need something else, I’ll call you. Just give me your cell phone number, and’”
“No. That isn’t going to happen, Ben. You don’t seem to understand. I promised Laura on her deathbed that I’d take care of her son. I failed to do that. Now I have to make this right. I promised Laura’and not you or anyone else is going to stop me.”
Something shifted across his features. Might have been a hint of approval, but probably just a trick of the light.
His voice softened. “Look, I get it. You’re trying to do the right thing. But I’m a professional, Claire. Aside from that, I’m the boy’s father.”
“You’re his father in name only. Sam doesn’t even know you exist. He isn’t