Second Chances by Randi Cardoza

and she knew they would get along great.

“Can I see your house?”

“Well, of course you can. You’re going to live there, aren’t you? Let’s eat lunch at here, first. What do you say Kenzi?” Greta asked looking around Emma to look at Kenzi.

“I think I’ll leave and let you two get acquainted,” Kenzi replied as she knelt down to look at Emma. “You call me anytime you want to, Greta has my phone number.”

“Yes I do. Maybe Emma can go to your house to play on Saturday after she starts school this week,” Greta said and smiled when Emma cheered the decision.

“I’ll see you on Saturday then,” Kenzi said as she waved good-bye and left Farmington Place.

When she got home there was a message from Shawn telling her that he’d arrived and would call her again later. There was also a message from the attorney handling the Wilson kidnapping needing her to go in and give her deposition.

“Geez. An agent’s work is never done,” Kenzi sighed as she plopped down on her couch to pet Sunshine and look through her mail.
 
    Shawn sat in a motel room looking through the file that Mac had given him before he left that morning. How many more cases could he stand to go through thinking that it might possibly be Layla?

Running his fingers through his hair he conjured up Kenzi’s image in his mind. He wished she were in Memphis with him instead of in Farmington. The room phone rang and he pressed record on the machine before he answered.

“Hello?”

“Douglass, this is Agent John Stern. We need you to come down to Beale Street and meet with the rest of the team.”

“Why Beale Street?” Shawn asked.

“There’s a music festival going on right now…it won’t look unusual that four men are meeting for dinner during the festival.”

“Why would it look unusual anyway?”

“People down here are always suspicious of men meeting each other if it’s not in a sports bar. Remember this is the bible belt, any hint that we’re not just buddies and people will want to lynch us.”

“Then what about Mardi Gras? No one lynches anyone during Mardi Gras. I think you’re just paranoid, Stern,” Shawn replied.

“Maybe but I’d rather be safe than sorry. Wouldn’t you?”

“I guess. Will I have a hard time getting to Beale Street from my motel?” Shawn asked shoving his wallet in his back pocket.

“It’s about a mile from your motel. Just listen for the music and follow the crowds of people. We’ll be waiting at the Blue Suede Café. See you in half an hour,” said Stern and then the phone was dead.

Shawn muttered, “Well, I’ll call you later Kenzi. At least we’re still in the same time zone so I don’t have to worry about waking you up when I call you later.”

 

Chapter 14

Shawn walked to the meet with his temporary partners at the Blue Suede Café. The music was so loud on the streets he could hardly hear himself think but once he got inside, though it was crowded, it calmed down a little. Agent Stern waved him towards their table when Shawn walked in.

“I’d have known you anywhere,” Stern said with a slightly Cajun accent. “This is Agent Charles Brown and Agent Clark Kent.”

Shawn snorted at the obviously fake names until the two men looked at him with wry grins on their faces.

“Our parents just didn’t like us much,” said Brown who was like his name, brown hair balding on top, brown eyes, and a rotund body.

“My parents liked me just fine,” said Agent Kent, who was just the opposite of his given name. His stomach was starting to sag over his belt and his wheat-colored blond hair was thick and stick straight.

“So what’s new on this kidnapping?” Shawn asked after ordering a double cheeseburger and a coke from the waitress.

“You know the history right? She was taken four years ago from her backyard. Well, she was right 'bout six at the time and had learned her name, address, and telephone number,” Agent Stern said as he