Justice at Dawn

by Valerie Massey Goree

  Not the words she expected to hear. She straightened. “How do you mean?”

  “Mario was pleased with how quickly you grasped the concepts. Naturally, I thought you’d do well, considering your, uh, physicality and background.” Now he looked up, and she was sure a blush rose up his neck.

  Why would he be embarrassed talking about her—ah, yes. Her athletic body. Poor Coop. But her sympathy for him didn’t last. “You still haven’t told me why we’re here.”

  “Give me time.”

  Sizzling plates of beef fajitas, and grilled onions and peppers interrupted the conversation. The waitress completed the order with tortillas and bowls of rice and ranchero beans. Had Coop just copied her order, or did they really enjoy the same foods?

  Hungry or not, she had to ask again, “Please, Coop. Don’t keep me in suspense. Am I out of the program?”

  “Why would you think that? No. You’ve aced everything this week.”

  She stabbed a slice of beef and stuffed it into her mouth. No more coaxing on her part. He asked for the meet.

  Other than a country western song playing overhead and the clinking of silverware on ceramic, silence reigned at the table.

  After what seemed like a lifetime, he set down his fork and wiped his mouth on his napkin. “We have been, and will continue to be, in each other’s company a lot during your training. I just want you to, uh, realize that we are rookie and agent.” He nodded as if he’d rehearsed the speech and was satisfied with his delivery. His heavy sigh confirmed her notion.

  “Got it. I won’t misconstrue your behavior as long as you do the same for me.” Was he warning her off? Had she inadvertently sent him the wrong signals? Good thing she hadn’t bought the funny Valentine card that would have been perfect for him.

  “I hope I didn’t offend you.”

  “Nope. I’m outgoing, demonstrative. I come on strong, and more than once, Mom has reminded me to ratchet down my, um, personality a notch or two.”

  “Don’t do that.” He took a bite of tortilla wrapped around beef and peppers.

  His words could have several meanings. Be open, natural. Don’t react. Sipping tea, she almost choked when her heart thumped against her ribs. Yeah, she was an extrovert and enjoyed the look of surprise when a man noticed her for the first time. And, boy oh, boy, did she like the effect she had on Coop when they first met. She wiped her mouth and looked at him.

  His gaze held hers.

  Seconds ticked by.

  A strange fluttering sensation danced in her stomach. Butterflies or moths? Who cared, something with tiny wings. His green eyes revealed a depth she wasn’t sure she wanted to delve into. She blinked, and the connection snapped.

  “Agent, rookie. I won’t forget.” But is that what she wanted? And by the look they’d exchanged, she wasn’t sure he wanted it, either.

  During the rest of the meal, they hardly spoke. When the waitress brought the check and Coop snapped it up before KC could object, she broke the silence.

  “Do you have plans for the weekend?” Safe topic.

  “For once, I do.” A shadow crossed his face, and he rubbed the scar on his chin with his thumb. “My late wife’s brother is in town. We’re meeting for lunch tomorrow.”

  How did she always manage to step on his grief? No easy segue came to mind.

  His tone brightened as he asked, “How about you?”

  “I’ll spend time at the Riverview Children’s Center.” She hadn’t told him about her involvement with their programs. “We present skits and variety shows. The kids love to perform, even their impromptu acts are entertaining. I explained that with my training schedule, I might not be able to visit as frequently.” KC drained her glass, ice included.

  “I suppose your brothers have gone back home?”

  She swallowed a chunk of ice. Ouch. “Yes. They both had the day off and left Monday evening. Bear said he wished he had more time to talk to you. And George, well, he—” She caught his lips curl in a brief smile. Any minute now, he’d whip out the stop sign.

  “Are you ready to go?” He slid out of the booth and gestured for her to precede him to the counter where he paid the bill.

  She stepped outside to wait for him. Gray skies promised much needed rain. A damp wind chilled her, and she covered her head with the jacket hood and then hugged the garment closer. Mild winter or not, maybe it was time to grow her hair again.

  Hands in pockets, Coop exited and stood beside her. Almost as if he was reluctant to leave. “A drastic change in the weather.”

  A quick glance his way revealed his shoulders slumped. Against the cold or for a more personal reason?

  “Are we OK? I mean, I didn’t hurt your feelings, did I?” he asked.

  Instead of his frown being intimidating, it caused another flutter in her stomach.

  Before their recent discussion, she would have nestled her hand in the crook of his forearm. Now, she walked beside him and headed to her car. “Oh, Coop. In the past, my feelings have been stomped on worse than you can imagine. All you did was state the obvious. I know me, and some people can’t handle…me.”

  He nodded.

  “In the future, then, if I get out of line, just—”

  “I’ll use the stop sign?”

  “Yes.”

  This time, they laughed together and walked to their vehicles.

  She pressed the remote but didn’t reach for the door handle. No way could she leave without explaining one more facet of her life. “My Christian beliefs are an integral part of who I am. As you may have noticed, I’m not shy about praying for people or situations. Or myself. We all need God’s forgiveness.” Whew. She hadn’t meant to turn this into a confession. “Anyway, I hope I haven’t embarrassed you.”

  “No.” He crossed his arms, mouth grim. “I used to go to church regularly.”

  Aha. His response unleashed a multitude of questions that swirled through her mind. For once, she held her tongue. She turned to open her door, but stopped, and bowed her head. Father God, Coop needs You. She sensed Coop’s presence behind her. Before she could talk herself out of the invitation, she said, “Remember, my folks host a home church every Sunday.”

  His hand felt heavy on her shoulder. She spun around and almost knocked him over. Way too close. Her heart skittered.

  “Will you be there?” He didn’t move as his gaze searched her face.

  Careful, KC. “Yes.”

  He backed away without another word.

  11

  The first part of the week passed in a blur. Cooper remembered working on reports for Bowen and consulting with the other IRO branch offices about their training programs, but when Thursday morning dawned, he awoke, brain on full alert. And he hadn’t even had any coffee yet. Slow down.

  Rookie, agent.

  But he was eager to work with KC again.

  She bounded into his office at eight sharp.

  Her teal cap didn’t hide the tiny gray curls that peeked above her ears.

  “Good morning,” he said, averting his eyes.

  “Hi, Coop.” She dropped into the chair and held her bag close. “No more legalese, please. Sandra Urban, bless her heart, is a nice enough gal, but my hand aches from taking notes. I’ll be glad when I get my laptop. So many policies, procedures, and regulations to follow. I don’t know how agents ever accomplish anything.” Leaning back, she sighed, and set her bag on the floor. “What are we doing today?”

  He purposely kept a straight face, but inside, he was grinning from ear to ear. KC was never at a loss for words. “The legal aspects of our job are extremely important. We have a little more leeway than the police, but we have to operate within the law.”

  “I know. I know. But three days in a row are hard to take.”

  “You’ll be glad to know, then, that for the rest of the week, we’ll be tackling domestic and family issues. Hands-on training, using actors in scripted scenarios.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “That sounds exciting. And then IT n
ext week, right?”

  “Yes. Two or three days, depending on your aptitude.”

  She removed her cap and ran her hand over her head. “How do you like my hair?”

  Cooper cleared his throat. “Uh, I guess—”

  “You don’t like it?”

  “No. That’s not what I meant. I…it’s…” How did he get himself in such a bind? “You want the truth?”

  She nodded, her lips in a downward slant.

  “There’s not enough of it to tell.” Open mouth, insert his size thirteens. “I mean…KC, you are a beautiful woman, with or without hair. Don’t wait for my approval, or any person’s, for that matter, to do what you feel is right for you.”

  His words had the desired effect. She smiled and stood. “OK, let’s get started. Where do we go for this training?”

  Dodged a bullet, but he meant every word. “In a vacant office around the corner. We can walk together.”

  She snagged her bag and followed him. “We had a large group for worship on Sunday.”

  Although aware of the ease with which she shared her faith, Cooper’s defense mechanism still kicked in. His worship—or lack thereof—was private. “Thanks for the reminder, but I’m not ready—”

  “No, no, Coop. I’m not pressuring you. If that’s what you thought, then I’m sorry. I was just making conversation.” She hung her head.

  Guilt surged through him. She wasn’t judging him, but her faith reminded him of the void in his life. “I’ll come one Sunday. Give me time. OK?”

  For the rest of the day, he regretted his sharp response. During the training sessions, KC performed well, learned from her mistakes, and took redirection to heart. But she didn’t smile or chat with him outside of the scenarios. Her subdued attitude toward him continued the next day. And when she said good-bye at five o’clock, she didn’t mention her parents’ church gathering.

  On his way home, Cooper thumped the steering wheel. “You’re a king-sized dope.” What kept him from attending a church service, at a house or anywhere? He fingered his scar, running a thumb from his eye down to his chin. He didn’t blame God for the accident that took his wife and baby, slashed open his face. But since that day, he hadn’t been able to walk into a church building. Maybe a home church was just what he needed.

  Cooper spent Saturday fishing at the Shelter Island Pier with Manny Hernandez, another IRO agent. They didn’t catch anything worthwhile, not even the ever-present sand bass, but laidback Manny wouldn’t let Cooper’s gray mood persist.

  “You’re extra quiet today. Want to share what’s weighing you down?” Manny cast his line out again.

  Almost involuntarily, the spiritual battle Cooper waged spewed out. On and on, the words tumbled, until he turned to his friend, eyebrows raised.

  Manny remained quiet for a few seconds. He bobbed his pole up and down. “Can I make a couple of comments?”

  Cooper shrugged. “Sure.”

  “You say you’ve watched Pastor Owen Ross on TV for five years.”

  “Yeah. I like his style. He preaches straight from the Bible.”

  “And you can sit at home without interacting with anyone, right?”

  Cooper could tell where this was going. He cast his line out again. “Yes.”

  “Why do you prefer to be by yourself?”

  “It’s not that.” But Manny had hit the nail on the head. “I…don’t know.”

  “Maybe you’re afraid of confronting your loss. You told me you don’t hold God responsible for your family’s deaths. So why don’t you want to worship God with other people?”

  His line jerked. He’d snagged something. Cooper reeled in seaweed that someone else had obviously caught as it had a weighted fishing line tangled in the glob. Figured. His life in a nutshell. No fish, or sustenance, but a heaviness trapped in an ugly mess. “I have no answers.”

  “Can I suggest one or two?”

  Cooper nodded.

  “If you worship with other people, you might have to open up, share your innermost feelings. Let people into where Cooper Callahan exists.”

  Clouds covered the sun. Cooper threw his rod onto the pier. Getting too personal, pal. “I think it’s time to go.” Cooper packed his gear then trudged to the parking lot where he and Manny entered their vehicles without saying another word.

  After breakfast the next day, Cooper drove to William and Ellen Briggs’ home. Five vehicles were already parked in the driveway or on the street, one of them KC’s teal SUV.

  He checked his watch. Ten minutes before ten. A sedan parked behind him. A woman and two young kids exited, passed him, and waved before entering the house.

  Now or never. But the very thought of walking into a group of strangers—excluding KC and her parents, of course—twisted his gut into knots.

  He sped away. I’m a coward. As he neared his apartment, he prayed aloud for the first time in years. “Help me, Father. I need Your guidance in my life.”

  Maybe next Sunday.

  12

  IT training, at last. Prepared for the cold room, KC carried a thick sweater. She locked her handgun in her safe and then pinned two more photographs on the wall above her desk. One of her nieces and nephew, and one of Bear. Family.

  Would she see Coop today? The iciness between them could not continue. She’d have to speak to him. Soon.

  “Good morning, Miss Briggs. I’m Gabe Sanchez. Are you ready for your tech component?”

  She spun around. “You better believe it. But please call me KC.”

  “This way.”

  The short, overweight man led her to the back offices.

  KC noted that Coop’s door was closed. She listened but heard nothing. Maybe he wasn’t in yet.

  Gabe unlocked the IT room door and entered, pointing to a desk at the back. “We’ll work there for the duration.” He adjusted his tie as he looked up at her, his brows raised.

  Unfazed, KC was used to shorter men eyeing her with a certain amount of disdain. Sometimes admiration. But she wasn’t about to let his height—or lack thereof—interfere with the main reason she’d applied to become an IRO agent. Access to search engines mere mortals had no clue existed. She settled at the desk, slipped on her sweater, and gave Gabe a broad smile. “I’m so excited. Coop told me you’re one of the best. Let’s begin.”

  The dark-haired techie sat next to her, shoulders back and chin raised. “I am pretty good at my job, even if I say so myself. We’ll start with the basics…”

  ~*~

  By close of business the next day, KC had covered most of the curriculum. Gabe voiced his praise in flowery terms, and indicated they’d only have to work for several hours on Wednesday.

  “Can I stay and complete a few more practice exercises?” she asked when Gabe headed toward the door.

  “No one has ever wanted to stay after class before. I suppose it will be all right. Just make sure you close the door when you leave. It’ll lock automatically.” Gabe hesitated. “Remember, only use the programs we explored.”

  KC deliberately didn’t reply. She waved and waited until he closed the door. Releasing a giant sigh, she faced the monitor. Yup, that’s exactly what she would do.

  Using one of the unique search engines Gabe had shown her, KC entered her birth mother’s last name. She had no other pertinent information about the woman. No age, place of birth. She did know she was Caucasian, and her first name began with the letters Wi. Wi Hodges. Faded words on a piece of paper left with a five-year-old child at a hospital in Roanoke, Virginia. KC barely remembered the woman, let alone her given name.

  What names began with Wi? Wilma. Win. Wilda. Wilona. KC added names found online to her list. She ended up with twenty-four possibilities. Entering the combination of each one with Hodges took two hours. No luck. KC used another search engine, with the same negative results. Neck and shoulder muscles aching, she stretched, ready to quit.

  The door opened.

  KC swiveled in the chair

  “What are you doin
g in here?”

  A man she hadn’t met stood at the door, a scowl on his tanned face.

  “I’m, uh, practicing what I learned today in my tech training.” The truth, in part.

  “It’s almost midnight.” He jingled a set of keys on his belt.

  “Gabe said I could stay. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize the time.” She turned off the monitor, collected her bag and rose.

  “Out you go, missy. I’ll have to report you.”

  Missy? She bristled but calmed herself. Don’t make a fuss.

  “I understand, but Gabe—”

  “You’re the rookie, aren’t you? Working for extra credit or something else?”

  What did he mean? “Trying to keep up, is all. I’ll leave now.”

  He waited for her to exit, closed the door, and followed her out of the complex to her vehicle.

  Halfway home, she realized she’d forgotten one salient piece of Gabe’s instructions. She hadn’t wiped the search engines’ histories.

  13

  Dreading another confrontation with Coop, KC entered the IRO complex with her stomach flip-flopping. Too anxious to eat breakfast, her morning coffee threatened a return journey. The faint aroma of cinnamon rising from the muffins on a table near the entrance added to her discomfort.

  She recognized a woman standing beside the table. Sadie. Much cuter in person than portrayed in photographs on Bowen’s desk. “Good morning, Mrs. Boudine.”

  “Hi, KC. Call me Sadie, please. I’ve heard glowing reports about you from Cooper, but he’s waiting to see you. I’ll chat more later.” Dark curls bobbing around her shoulders, Sadie sauntered off to Bowen’s office.

  Great. KC tromped down the side aisle. Here it comes. Might as well pack up shop right now. She knocked on Coop’s door and entered at his invitation.

  Words failed her. She couldn’t even voice a greeting. Sitting upright in the chair, she kept her eyes on his face.

  She’d expected a scowl, or worse. However, his stern demeanor still didn’t bode well for a positive conclusion to the meeting.

  “I believe you were very busy last night.” Fingers tented, elbows on desk. Coop was every inch the disapproving principal.