On A Night Like This (Callaways #1)

relationship with Will. She'd tried to express her sorrow to Will's mother, but the woman had been cold and distant, and uninterested in her condolences.
    When she had asked about the funeral, his mother had told her there wouldn't be one, that Will would be cremated and his ashes would be spread at sea. She'd known Will had not been close with his parents, but she'd never realized the extent of their estrangement. Not that it mattered anymore.
    Squaring her shoulders, she forced herself to keep walking. She wasn't sure she could make it all the way inside the restaurant, but she was hoping to make it to the front door.
    It was a beautiful Thursday afternoon, no fog on the horizon, just a few wispy clouds to mar the light blue sky. As she headed down the hill, she could see the Golden Gate Bridge and the colorful sails on the boats dotting the bay. Turning the corner, she walked toward a beautiful cobblestone square where four streets met.
    Vincenzo's was on the far corner, across from St. Margaret's Church and the Fountain of Wishes, a popular North Beach destination. The fountain was owned by the church and had been built more than a hundred years earlier. It had survived the earthquake of 1906, and had been part of neighborhood lore for as long as anyone could remember. Throwing a coin in the water was supposed to bring luck and good fortune.
    Over the years, numerous people had come forward sharing miracle stories of wishes that had been granted. She'd never been a big believer in wishes – maybe because none of her wishes had ever come true. Her prayers had also gone unanswered. She'd learned early on in life that she was on her own, that the only one she could depend on was herself.
    For the most part, she'd been strong. But today, she felt weak, uncertain … and she had to find a way to shake it off. Cooking was her livelihood. It was all she knew how to do. Her savings was running down fast. She needed to get over her fear of going back into a kitchen.
    On impulse, she walked across the square, pausing by the fountain. She could really use some help from the universe right about now. She opened her purse and pulled a quarter out of her wallet. The practical side of herself told her that quarter could buy her seven minutes on a parking meter, which might be a better investment then throwing twenty-five cents away on a foolish wish.
    While she was considering her options, her gaze caught on two girls on the other side of the fountain. Her pulse began to race. They looked like two of the kids she'd met up with in the alley behind the restaurant the night Will had been shot. Since then she had wondered many times if things would have been different if she hadn't taken the pizza out to the kids, if she hadn't stopped to question them, if she hadn't been avoiding what she thought might be a proposal. Would she have been able to save Will, or would she be dead, too?
    The girls looked just as ragged as she remembered. She wondered what had happened to the boy who had been with them – Ben. And had they gone hungry without her leftover offerings?
    She felt a wave of guilt that she hadn't thought more about their welfare.
    She walked around the fountain. The youngest girl looked up, and her blue eyes widened in recognition. She said something to the other girl, who quickly glanced her way. Then they both turned and ran.
    "Wait," she called, breaking into a jog as they sprinted across the square and darted through an alley.
    It suddenly seemed imperative that she catch up to them. She needed to fix something, to save someone, because she hadn't been able to save Will. Maybe if she could help these children…
    Five minutes later, she realized the girls were gone. They'd vanished down one of the many narrow alleys that ran through this part of town. Turning, she walked slowly back to the square.
    The sunlight was streaming through the spray of water coming off the fountain, beckoning her forward. She still had the quarter clenched in her hand. She just needed a wish – the right wish – one that would really make a difference.
    She was stalling again, anything to postpone going into Vincenzo's, but at least she was getting closer…

    * * *
    Another August, and he was no closer to finding his daughter. Wyatt Randall stared at the calendar on his computer. Two years had passed since he'd seen Stephanie, and he still had no idea where she was. Familiar frustration sent a wave of anger through his body. He was an