Free When Wishes Collide by Barbara Freethy Page A

back doorway of a clothing shop. They just sort of materialized out of the shadows. I think they might have hidden behind one of the dumpsters until I came out the back door."
    "Did anyone else at the restaurant see them or talk to them?"
    She licked her lips. "Will saw them the first time they came around, but I was the only one who spoke to them, and the only one who saw them that night. I'm not sure if anyone else in the kitchen had contact with them on nights that I didn't work. No one mentioned it, but that doesn’t mean it didn't happen. They're not the first homeless people to come knocking on the back door."
    "I thought you said they weren't homeless."
    "That's what Ben said," she corrected. "I wasn’t sure."
    She saw the annoyance on his face, but thankfully he didn't put his irritation into words. She was tired of defending herself. Maybe she hadn't made the right decision, but she'd done what she'd thought was best at the time.
    Wyatt started walking down the alley, and after a moment, she followed. He seemed to be making note of which door led to which business, pausing occasionally to check the stairs of a fire escape. There were some residences on the upper floors of the buildings as evidence by the curtains blowing in some of the open windows.
    "Maybe they live in one of the apartments," she suggested.
    "It's possible," he said. "You really didn't see them come out of any particular doorway?"
    "I wish I could give you a different answer than I don't know."
    "So do I," he muttered.
      When they reached the corner, Wyatt looked in both directions, his gaze settling on a run-down motel a block away.
    "The Fantasy Inn ," he murmured, casting her a quick glance. "Doesn't look much like a fantasy to me."
    No, but it looked like a lot of places she'd lived in.
    "Let's check it out," he suggested. "Maybe someone there has seen the kids."
    She followed him down the street to the motel, and when they entered the building, she felt like she had stepped back in time. The small lobby boasted nothing more than a chair, a half-empty snack machine, and an old coffee maker surrounded by paper cups.
    The last time she'd been in a motel like this had been with her mom, just a few weeks before she'd died. Every day she'd collect loose change from the streets in order to buy a candy bar out of the machine. Every night she'd split the candy with her mom. That sweet was their midnight treat, her mom used to say, never questioning how she'd come up with the candy or the money. There were a lot of things her mom hadn't wanted to question. Even as a little girl, Adrianna had known better than to share too much.
    Shaking the memories out of her head, she watched Wyatt approach the counter. The clerk looked like a hundred other desk clerks she'd seen in her childhood, a middle-aged, balding, overweight man, who didn't look too closely at anyone or anything. The kind of guy who wouldn't get involved if someone was being hurt right in front of him.
    Wyatt flashed his badge, which made the guy stand up a little straighter, and then Wyatt showed him the photograph of the kids leaving the liquor store. "Have you seen these children?" he asked.
    The clerk nodded. "That's Ben. Nice kid. Comes in to get candy, doesn't talk too much. I've seen the girls in the parking lot."
    "Who are they with? What room are they in?"
    "They were with a woman. But she left about a week ago."
    "Do you have a name?"
    "We don't take names here. Everyone pays cash."
    "Look, I've got some kids in trouble. Help me out here."
    The clerk hesitated. "The woman said her name was Delilah, but I'm a hundred percent sure that wasn't her real name. She was here off and on for about four months." He paused. "And then there was another woman, a real looker, great legs," he said, blowing out a long whistle. "She came by a few times. Always had a big, sweet smile when she asked to use the phone."
    Wyatt frowned, and Adrianna could see his patience wearing thin.
    "Did you get her