Elusive Echoes by Kay Springsteen Page A

road on the way to
Jackson and slammed into a cliff-face. The truck had been mangled
beyond recognition, its driver dead on impact. Twelve-year-old Mel
had been crushed at the loss of her father. With the need to
provide for herself and her daughter, Mel's mother had gone to work
as a waitress at Carol's Diner in town. Sylvia had worked long
hours and in a freakish coincidence, almost a year to the day after
her husband's death, Sylvia had been driving home late one night
when a logging truck broadsided her tiny car. She hadn't had a
chance.
    "Everyone thought I would live with Grandma
Tilly. I wanted to. I loved her so much," whispered Mel. "But she
was Todd's mom, and not really my grandma at all."
    Her light sniffs and barely perceptible
shudders told Sean she was crying. He was torn between wanting to
know what had happened, and the need to soothe away her pain. He
brushed a tender kiss over the top of her head.
    "One day, this man showed up. He said his
name was Nick DeVayne. He and my mom had been—together before she
married Todd. He said I was his daughter. I didn't want to believe
him. It was like—I'd lost my parents and now this man was trying to
take away who I was." Mel stopped talking and inhaled deeply then
blew out the breath. "Grandma Tilly sent him packing, but Nick came
back the next day with proof. He had my original birth certificate
naming him as my father, and notification from the state of my
adoption by Todd in lieu of back child support. Oh, he had a story
about why he hadn't paid, and the story always changed."
    "But if you were adopted, weren't his
parental rights terminated?"
    "He had an emergency order of custody signed
by a judge in Oklahoma City."
    Mel rolled out of Sean's arms and turned to
face him. Silver light from the full moon slanted through the
window and bathed her face. The dim glow and the pale blonde hair
splashed across the dark pillowcase made her appear ghostly. He
couldn't see the shadows in her eyes, but he knew they were
present.
    "Are you sure you want to hear all
this?"
    Sean propped his head again. Needing the
contact, he reached out and smoothed her hair. "Only if you want to
tell me."
    "After Nick took me away, I
met my half-brother, his son, Denny. I don't know what happened to
Denny's mother or how Nick ended up with custody. Denny was a year
younger than me, and exactly like his— our father. It was all about making a
fast buck with both of them. We never stayed in one place very
long. Nick ran cons. And then we'd have to leave before he got
caught. He changed our names so many times, I lost track of who I
was supposed to be. He used me and Denny in his cons." She buried
her face in the pillow, her sudden movement severing the connection
between them. When she turned back to Sean, she tucked her hand
under her cheek. "I helped him screw so many people over. I got
good at it. I got really, really good at seducing older men to be
interested in me with my virginal innocence, and then Nick would
move in for the kill, all blustery, 'what are you doing with my
fifteen-year-old daughter?' And they would pay him so much money to
make sure he didn't go straight to the police. I stayed fifteen for
almost three years."
    Emotions he couldn't define, didn't
understand, were slamming Sean like a jackhammer, accompanied by
body-engulfing cold and the taste of bile in his throat. Her pain
became his. How had she stood it? "Did they—the men—did they—hurt
you?" The words felt like they were being ripped from his throat.
He wanted to pull her back into his embrace but he sensed the
distancing had been intentional.
    After a moment, Mel surprised him by sliding
an arm across his chest and up to cup his neck. "I love you for a
lot of reasons, Sean. Just now, I love you so very much for caring
about that." Her fingers flexed briefly. "No. No one hurt me, no
one touched me. Not—like that."
    He eased out the breath he'd been holding.
Maybe they hadn't physically hurt her. But Sean