He just couldn’t help himself. He touched her cheek, brushing back the dark hair that had slipped from her ponytail. “You see to it that Reine and Eva got fed? They were hungry. I hope someone had the presence of mind to see that they ate and were looked after.”
Ryan was still lingering a few steps away, an odd expression on his face. Marcus knew it well, and he took in the scene, the cops, the paramedics. He’d expected to see Suzanne there, but evidently, she hadn’t gotten the call.
“I don’t see them here,” Marcus said. “Please tell me they didn’t see what happened to Tommy?”
Something in Ryan’s expression told him there was something else he wasn’t going to like. That sick, heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach had left him numb. Charlotte turned, her hand on his arm again, her expression one of angst. Anyone else would have taken a step back, but not Charlotte. She stepped closer as if she could somehow be a voice of reason.
“Lonnie cuffed Reine Colbert and stuffed her in the back of the kid’s car,” she said. “Colby was just leaving when Social services got here and took Eva.”
He just stared down at Charlotte and couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was absolute bullshit. He dragged his gaze back over to Ryan. “On what fucking charges? What the fuck?” he yelled, tossing the thermos lid on the ground. The coffee splashed out. He wanted to put his hands around someone’s neck and squeeze. Charlotte had stepped back.
“Aiding and abetting, and child endangerment,” Ryan said. “Look, we didn’t know what the fuck was going on in there. I’m not a cop, and you know I have no authority. I’m here for you, eyes and ears. You remember we were standing with you when she came out on that porch and said she was fine, and Lonnie said she gave him away when he tried to get in the back. He was pissed about what went down, said she was responsible for it turning into the shitshow it did. Said it looked like she was working alongside him, that she alerted Tommy. Sheriff Frank said to book her. Our hands were tied. If it didn’t go down that way, then you can straighten it out. Voice of reason, Marcus. I get it, but from the outside, it didn’t look as if this was all that cut and dried.”
Ryan’s hands were shoved in his coat pockets, and Marcus could see none of this was sitting right with him, either. Then he spotted Lonnie talking with the other cops, running his hands through his hair, managing the crime scene, which was something he should’ve been doing.
He stepped away from the ambulance, letting the blanket fall. He felt a hand on his arm and knew it was Charlotte as he started toward Lonnie, really digging into each step.
“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing, arresting Reine Colbert?” he shouted. “She’s a victim here! And sending her kid into social services?” He took in their faces as he strode toward them. Ryan was beside him too now, his hand on his shoulder, but there wasn’t a chance he was stopping him. He grabbed Lonnie by his vest.
“Marcus, what the fuck? Let him go!” Ryan yelled.
He wasn’t in any state of mind to be reasoned with, though. He was gutted by everything that had happened. “You son of a bitch!” he yelled. “You really fucked up…”
Everyone seemed to be pulling at him, trying to break his hold, but he’d be damned if he let go.
Lonnie was furious. “The hell she’s a victim! I was the one trying to get in and save them. She outright refused and instead gave me away, which put the kid in danger. I have a mind to add a bunch more charges.”
“Total, absolute bullshit, Lonnie! All of those charges are going to be dropped. I ordered you to watch the back, not to go rogue and do your own fucking thing. You put everyone in danger, escalating this to where a man is now lying on a slab in the morgue. You wouldn’t have forced his back to the wall if you’d just followed my orders, and I wouldn’t have ended up cuffed to a chair. That’s totally on you. His gun was empty, not a bullet in it… I knew it and tried to stop you.”
Sheriff Frank stepped in. He was a big man, same height as Marcus, with about twenty years and fifty pounds or so added. “Hey, enough already! She’ll get her day in court. This could have been a whole lot worse, and you seem to forget we have discretion over when, where, and to what extent we decide to prioritize and enforce laws. The charges stand unless your sheriff has other reasons they shouldn’t. Just where the hell is Bert, anyways?”
“He’s not available,” was all he managed to get out as he dragged his gaze over to Charlotte and felt her hand pulling on his arm. Lonnie said nothing, and Marcus turned to him again. “And you never did tell me how much you had to drink before showing up here,” he started, but Frank set his hand on his shoulder and somehow had him moved back and away from everyone.
“Look, son, I understand you’re upset,” he said. “I get it. None of this ended the way any of us wanted it, but it doesn’t always work out. You know that, especially in situations like this, when there’s a gun and heads are far from cool. You seem to forget that everyone here is doing their best. That boy came out of the cabin as a threat, gun in hand. You know there was no way for us to know the gun wasn’t loaded. The perceived threat was very real.
“Do you need a reminder on backing up your brothers in arms? I’m acting sheriff here right now, and I gave a direct order. You know how the chain of command works. Sounds to me as if you’re ready to hang a fellow officer out to dry. I think maybe you’re not clear, and maybe you’re confused after having a gun in your face, being held hostage. So let me remind you how things work. I’m not unsympathetic to the woman here, but she had some responsibility, too. Let me ask, who cuffed you? Did she stand by and do nothing? Did she have a gun on her, making her do what she did?”
Marcus just stared into Frank’s face, but he said nothing. It was Reine who had cuffed him. Could he lie if asked? No, it would be in the report. He needed to take more than another minute to consider everything, how all of it had gone down. The bleakness of her situation wasn’t being taken into account.
“Just as I thought,” Frank said. “Take a few days, son, and get your head clear. It’ll all work out just fine. The kid’s safe now, the bad guy’s taken out, and Ms. Colbert will face her part in this before a judge.” Then he patted his shoulder and strode back over to Lonnie, whose ass Marcus still wanted to kick.
Chapter Eleven
He didn’t know how Charlotte had managed to convince him to leave, but she was in the passenger side of his cruiser now, with a bag at her feet that held the damn thermos and uneaten sandwiches.
He was driving back to town. The moment felt surreal as he thought back on his desperation the night before, rushing out in response to the call from Eva, who had been looking to him to make everything right.
The crime scene techs had taped off the cabin and yard and were photographing everything. The ambulance was just ahead of them, and Ryan was behind. His brother had said nothing more after he managed to steer Marcus to the cruiser and told him to walk away before he did or said something really stupid.
“I’ll drop you at the station, and then I’ll get a hold of Bert, finish the reports, and try to get a handle on how official the charges are in the system, if she’s even been processed,” Marcus said. He’d see exactly where Reine was, and Eva. Then there was Tommy and his next of kin. “Oh, shit!” He smacked the steering wheel.
Charlotte didn’t pull her gaze from him. “What is it, Marcus?”
He shook his head. “Tommy’s father. He’s on his way. Then there’s the Wisconsin sheriff’s office. Did anyone call them?”
“Colby will handle that part. You need some rest.”
“Yeah, no time for that,” he said, and even he didn’t miss the sharpness in his tone.
Charlotte simply sighed the way she did, never rattled by him. “Well, at least take a minute to grab a shower, a hot one, to get your head together, and some food, a change of clothes…”
He was still shaking his head. He could be damn stubborn when he had his mind set on something. “No, I’ll change at the office. Y
ou go on home and get some rest. I’m sure there’s a clean shirt there…”
“Marcus, I swear to God, everything at the station can wait. You walk in the station now, you’re only going to be knocking heads with everyone. Take a minute and get your head together. I know you’re pissed off, and I am too, but I also know it’s not beyond you to start butting heads with Lonnie. Then there’s Sheriff Frank. In case you didn’t hear him, because I did, you need a plan, something better than going in and knocking heads together to get the charges against Reine dropped. You need me to remind you that your acting superior ordered you to back down? I was there. I heard him. You and I both know none of this is sitting too well, and I agree with you, but let me remind you that you could actually make things for Reine and Eva so much worse.”
There was something about the way she spoke. He knew she was right, but he didn’t agree. He took in the ambulance in front of him, which was turning right to the morgue, and the sheriff’s department, which was straight ahead.
“Marcus, please.” Charlotte gestured to the left, where his bachelor pad was, a one-room loft above the Chinese restaurant on main street, only a few blocks from the sheriff’s office. “Get showered. I’ll make you something to eat while you get cleaned up, and some fresh coffee, and you give yourself a second to settle and stop acting on emotion. Isn’t that what you tell me?”
He took in the turn to his place, then the road ahead, which led right to the sheriff’s office. He should really take her back there, let her get in her gray Subaru, and send her home. “So you’re using my words of wisdom on me? Kind of fucked up, isn’t it, Charlotte, considering you haven’t heard me yet or listened?”
“Of course I hear you, Marcus. I always hear you and listen to you. My pride is the only reason I haven’t done what you’ve said, even though I know you’re right, because then I’d have to admit that every choice I’ve made was wrong. I know it was. I can see it in your eyes every day. But you know that already. I think you know me better than anyone ever could. Please…” She gestured to the turn. It was there in her voice, in her eyes.
He didn’t know why he did it, but he flicked the signal and turned left, seeing the red brick of the building where he lived, then parked. It wasn’t a good idea, taking her upstairs with him. “You should go home,” he said again, knowing it was just words.
She just opened her door. “And you need a shower and some food. I already told you I’m not going anywhere. You scared the hell out of me tonight, Marcus. When Lonnie called in to the station to say you’d been taken hostage and how dire the situation was…” She stopped talking as her voice caught. He could feel the emotion between them, and she didn’t have to say anything else. Her hazel eyes couldn’t hide everything that had been left unspoken between them. “Don’t do that again to me. Not ever, Marcus.”
He knew every bad choice was made in the heat of the moment. He said nothing. Instead, he pushed open his door and climbed out into the early morning light, taking in the quiet street. The sun was just coming up, and Charlotte Roy was standing right there, waiting for him.
So why was this a bad idea? Was it the fact that she was still married, still roommates with a man she didn’t love?
Chapter Twelve
Marcus stood under the spray in the walk-in shower, letting the hot water take some of the ache out of his shoulder, which was beginning to stiffen. His bathroom was small, with a single sink and a toilet. It didn’t have a bathtub, but that didn’t matter to him.
As he considered everything about what happened, he made a mental note of what he needed to do now. At the same time, he was well aware that Charlotte was in his kitchen, making coffee and something for him to eat, and he was still stuck on what she’d said. This dance and attraction he’d ignored between them had lingered for how many years now? A long time.
When the water went cold, he turned off the shower and reached for a thin navy towel on a hook. He dried himself off, feeling the sting on his wrists, and took in how nasty they looked. The bruising was already starting to set in. He ran the towel over his head and then looped it around his waist, then wiped the steam from the mirror. In his reflection, his eyes were bloodshot, and the scab on his face was oozing blood again. He could use a shave.
He grabbed some toilet paper and dabbed at the blood, then dumped it in the toilet and flushed. He ran his fingers through his thick dark hair, then over his face, then shut his eyes and hung his head for a second as he rested both hands on the edges of the sink, trying to understand the shitstorm that had to be cleaned up and everything that still had to be done. So many difficult personalities were involved, people that wouldn’t take a back seat to anyone, just like him.
He pulled open the bathroom door, hearing Charlotte humming some tune. She really did have a nice voice, and that alone added something to the dinginess of his one-room bachelor pad. The high-ceilinged loft was built in a warehouse style, with red brick and a window that filled one entire wall. His unmade bed and easy chair had seen better days, but he had a new flat-screen TV.
In the small open kitchen, Charlotte was frying something on the stove, and it didn’t seem as empty as it normally did. He breathed in the smell of coffee and took in the woman who was fussing over him now.
“I made you a cheese omelette and toast.” She slid a fluffy omelette onto a plate on the butcherblock counter, with two pieces of buttered toast, and then reached for a mug from the open shelf and poured coffee in it. When she pulled open his fridge and took a whiff of a carton of milk, she made a face. “I think you might have to drink your coffee black. Your milk has soured—and you need some groceries.”
She dumped the carton of milk into the farmhouse sink and rested the mug of coffee on the small island he used as a table. He was very aware of the towel still looped around his waist, and she wasn’t shy as she took him in, letting her gaze wander over all of him.
“You really should have your shoulder looked at,” she said.
He pulled out a stool and sat down before lifting the coffee and taking a swallow. “Not bad. Wouldn’t even know it needs milk. Maybe the fact that I didn’t make it has something to do with it.”
She smiled as she pulled open a drawer and brought a fork and a knife over him, resting them beside his plate. She really was giving him the full treatment, but then, he wondered when she hadn’t looked after him in the office.
“You don’t have to wait on me, you know, but I appreciate this,” he said. He picked up the fork even though he didn’t think he was hungry, and he forced a piece of the steaming omelette into his mouth. The orange cheese oozed as he took a bite. “It’s good.”
She drank from her own mug as she walked around the island, then took the stool beside him.
“Did you make yourself something?” He gestured to her with his fork, then took another bite of the perfectly seasoned omelette. Maybe he was hungrier than he’d thought.
“No, I’m fine,” she said. “This is for you. Someone has to look after you, Marcus. You spend all your time taking care of everyone else, everything else, and maybe this helps me settle a bit.” The way she said it, she suddenly seemed so shy, awkward. At the same time, he was aware how comfortable she was here and with him.
“Hmm,” was all he said. He forked a piece of his omelette and held it up to her lips, and she opened and took a bite.
“It’s good,” she said. There it was, that smile again. “I love you, Marcus, but I think you know that already.”
He hadn’t expected her to say it. He finished chewing and swallowing his bite of eggs, then lifted his mug and took a swallow of coffee. He remembered how it had felt to kiss her so long ago. Would they always be thinking of that close call? Even he felt some nostalgia and what-ifs, if he was being honest.
“You know I love you too, but you made your choice, and here we are,” he said. “You really want to rehash the past seven years when nothing has changed? That kiss sent your husband over the edge. It shouldn’t have happene
d. It never happened again.”
She nodded. “You think I don’t know that? At the same time, I never should have married Jimmy. I had doubts right until he put the ring on my finger. I never loved him the way I love you. Marcus, I never expected you to turn your life around the way you did.”
There it was, the reason nothing had ever happened between them: He’d been young and stupid, headed in a direction that could have seen him behind bars. At least she’d been smart enough to see that.
“And yet here we are,” he said. “You’re still married to him, and I know you don’t need to say it again, that it’s because of the house, but the thing is, Charlotte, this dance we’re doing is going to be just that until you figure it out and end it with him. Is the house worth giving up another five years, ten? Because I won’t wait around forever. Separated is still married. We may not have talked about anything, but here we are.”
He wasn’t sure what she was going to say. His cell rang from the island beside her, and maybe out of habit, she reached for it.
“It’s the sheriff,” she said, handing him the phone, and he saw Bert’s caller ID on screen.
He stood up from the stool and answered. “Bert?”
“What the fuck, Marcus, you okay? I just got off the phone with Sheriff Frank about the ruckus that went on last night. He just left the scene, and I’m heading out there now. The woman is being arraigned at two, and you still need to get your report in and filed. I’ve got to talk with the coroner…”
Break time was over.
“I’m on my way back into the office,” he said. “Look, this whole thing is a mess. Reine Colbert shouldn’t have been arrested. Lonnie completely fucked that one up. She was a victim there, and so was her daughter, who’s been taken by social services. Then there’s Tommy Marshall. His dad was on his way. Has anyone thought to contact him?”
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