that Alex cared. He didn’t need a dad and he didn’t care if his ever came back. He just wanted to find him so the judge could make his dad pay what he owed his mom. Then she wouldn’t have to work so much. If she had someone to help pay the bills, she could take some time off to spend with him and his sister and brother this summer. They might even get to take a vacation. And get some new clothes instead of having to wear the stuff his mom found at garage sales. Maybe he could even get his own computer and show the other kids at school that he was just as smart as Josh.
“Well, is it okay or isn’t it?” Josh asked. “You want me to make copies?”
With his father’s face staring at him, Alex found that suddenly he wasn’t sure. For so long he’d wanted to find his dad, yet now that there was a possibility he might just do it, he found the prospect a little scary. What if his mom was right? What if they were better off without Dennis Harper in their lives?
He looked at Josh. “This isn’t a dumb idea, is it?”
“Uh-uh. When Billy Carson’s cat was missing, he found it by printing up posters and putting them all over town. If it’ll work for a cat, why wouldn’t it work for a person?”
Alex realized that Josh thought he was questioning the wisdom of printing the posters, not his attempt to locate his father. It shouldn’t have surprised him that his friend wouldn’t understand why he might have second thoughts. After all, Josh had a father. It was true his parents were divorced, but his dad came every other weekend to pick him up and take him places. He also played catch with Josh and helped coach his little league team. He hadn’t abandoned his kids after the divorce. He wasn’t anything like Dennis Harper.
“Do you want me to print them or not?” Josh asked a bit impatiently, when Alex still hadn’t given him the go-ahead.
Alex hesitated only a moment before saying, “Yeah. It’s about time somebody found that dead-beat.”
CHAPTER ONE
JOE SMITH WAS ON HIS WAY into the hardware store when he heard a voice behind him say, “Someone’s looking for you.”
For a moment Joe felt trapped. It was an instinctive reaction caused by a fear that the identity he’d worked so hard to conceal might be exposed. It didn’t matter that during the two years he’d lived in northern Minnesota, no one had suspected that he was anyone but Joe Smith, a man looking for a quiet life along the shores of Lake Superior. He knew, however, that the past had a way of catching up with a person, especially when that past contained secrets.
Hoping today wasn’t that day, he forced himself to turn around. Standing behind him was the owner of Whispering Pines, a resort on the outskirts of the small town of Grand Marais.
“Hey, Pete. How’s it going?” Joe greeted him with a handshake.
“It’s going good. How about yourself?”
“Can’t complain.” Joe knew he needed to get right to the point. “Did you say someone’s looking for me?”
“Yup. One of the guests at the lodge,” the older man responded. “Says he wants to talk to you about a fly-in.”
The muscles in Joe’s body began to uncoil. He should have known that it would be someone wanting to go fishing, not a snoop asking questions.
“Did you tell him to contact Blue Waters?”
“Sure I did, but I suspect they told him what they tell most tourists about this time of year. If you don’t book ahead, you’re out of luck. And you know how these rich folks are. They think they can get whatever they want by flapping a few extra bills in someone’s face.”
“How big of bills?” Joe asked with a sly smile.
“Big enough to turn my head,” Pete admitted with a chuckle. “Seriously, it could be a nice little side job for you,” he said, lowering his voice and glancing around to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. “I know you have a loyalty to Blue Waters, but you really should think about being your own boss.”
Joe looked out at Lake Superior and squinted as the sun bounced off the glistening water. “It’s a lot of work running your own business.”
“You don’t need to tell me,” the other man said with an understanding shake of his head. “But you’re a good pilot, Joe. And as for the responsibility and hard work…well, you’re practically running Blue Waters right now.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence, Pete, but I’m content to leave the problems behind when I go home. Blue Waters has been good to me.”
It was true. Joe had worried that with a new identity he’d have trouble finding work as a pilot. Although he’d logged a considerable number of hours in the air while in the Navy, they were hours he’d been forced to leave behind, along with his name, when he’d moved to Minnesota. Not wanting to risk being traced because of his license, he’d started over, taking flying lessons and passing all the requirements of a new pilot. If anyone at Blue Waters thought it was odd that he appeared to be a much better pilot than his experience indicated, they didn’t comment on it. He was able to work in relative anonymity, without any questions about his past, without any enquiries into his personal life.
It was the way Joe wanted it and the way he needed it to be. It would have been nice to run his own flying service, but it was a risk he couldn’t take. Running a business meant regulations and regulations meant red tape and inspectors. What he couldn’t afford was to leave a paper trail that would allow the wrong people to come looking for him. He’d made a new life for himself, deliberately choosing Smith as a surname because it was common and hard to trace. There was no point in taking a chance that someone would discover that he’d once been somebody else.
“Besides, with my dad’s health being what it is…” He let the sentence trail off, knowing perfectly well the lodge’s owner would deduce that Joe worked for someone else because he needed to take care of his father.
Which wasn’t a lie. A head injury and subsequent stroke had forever changed his father. Joe hadn’t anticipated that the strong, imposing man who had run his home with the same discipline he’d used when commanding his naval troops would ever need to lean on anyone—and especially not his son. The man who had been the epitome of authority now found himself dependent.
“I understand what you’re saying, Joe,” Pete said, his eyes as sympathetic as his tone. “How is the Admiral?”
“He’s doing all right,” he answered honestly.
Pete shook his head. “The brain’s a complicated thing, isn’t it?”
Joe nodded. “It is. He can tell you exactly what he paid for every car he ever purchased, yet he has trouble making change for a dollar.”
“How’s Letty been working out for you?”
Letty was a retired nurse Joe had hired to look after his father whenever he was gone. “She’s been great. She certainly has made my life a lot easier.”
“I knew she would.” Pete nodded toward the hardware store. “You going in or coming out?”
“In. Need to get a washer for a faucet. What about you?”
“I’m on my way to get my ears lowered,” he said, glancing in the direction of the barbershop down the street. “But I’m glad I ran into you. About this fella that’s looking for you…should I tell him to stop by?”
What Joe didn’t want was people coming to his place. His home at the lake was his sanctuary. The fewer people who visited there, the less complicated his life would be. “I’ll tell you what. How about if I give him a call when I get back to the house?” he suggested.
“Good enough.” Pete gave him the man’s name, then bid Joe goodbye, leaving him with a “You take care now.”
Joe certainly would do just that.