Picking Up the Pieces

by Maryann Jordan

  Whipping her head around, she nodded as she saw Ginny’s warm gaze on her.

  “Never really knew much about him until he helped out with a case. Still don’t know much about him, but I respect the fact that he likes his privacy.”

  Not knowing what to say, she just nodded again.

  “But, I’ll be honest, Jade,” Ginny continued. “I think he’s got demons like the rest of us…think he soothes them with his art. I figure that’s as good a way to work on them as any other…hell, it’s a lot healthier than many ways of dealing.” She turned, looked her in the eyes and added, “I’d love to see him find someone he can trust. Someone he can have fun with. Maybe even someone he can protect.”

  With that, she walked away, leaving Jade both agreeing and confused. Love, trust…yes. But protect?

  After the group left Mitch’s cabin, they migrated to Finn’s where the pall remained over the gathering. To her surprise and happiness, Lance came to the pub as well, rarely leaving her side. Comforting or staking a claim she did not know and, honestly, at that moment, did not care.

  Finally, Katelyn and Gareth came in, reporting that the hospital had admitted Tori overnight for observation, but the good news was that she and the baby appeared fine. With hugs and handshakes all around, the friends called out their goodbyes as they headed for home.

  Lance walked Jade outside to her car. Standing under the street light, he saw the remnants of worry in her eyes. Wanting to offer comfort, he knew platitudes were empty. Lifting his arms to her shoulders, he felt her shift, moving into his embrace, her face planting against his chest as her arms encircled his waist.

  They stood, silent as the night, offering wordless warmth. After a moment, she slid her hands down, stepping back slightly, looking up. A little smile curved her lips, as she said, “Thanks, Lance. For everything. For just making me feel better.”

  It had been a long time since he had offered comfort to anyone, but it felt good. Tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, he nodded. “Are you going to be safe getting home?”

  “Yeah. I just live a few blocks over.”

  Hating to leave her presence, he knew she needed to get to bed. “All right. I’ll…uh…see you…sometime?”

  “I hope so,” she chuckled. “You still owe me a tour of your studio.”

  “Absolutely,” he agreed, opening her door and watching her slide into the driver’s seat. Closing the door, he tapped on the window. After she rolled it down, he asked, “Hey, would you mind letting me know if you hear anything about Tori?”

  “Sure, but I’ll need your number.”

  Taking out his phone, he entered the digits as she rattled them off and then called her to get his number into her phone. Watching as she drove away, he turned toward his SUV, smiling, his heart lighter than it had been in years.

  10

  The moon hid behind the clouds, casting shadows over the bay. Inky water slapped against the side of the boat, muffling the sounds of the argument taking place on the deck. The craft floated dangerously close to the large ship anchored in the bay, but none of the occupants seemed to heed the danger, as their voices raised.

  “I’m not doing it. I told you, I want out.”

  “You can’t get out…not now. Soon, but not now.”

  “This wasn’t what I signed up for. The money, yeah…that I needed. But this? Hell, no. You changed the deal on me and I never agreed to nothin’ like this!”

  “How sanctimonious can you be? Fuck, man, you didn’t have any moral objection to what we’ve been doing. You can’t quit now. We gotta go through with this. Don’t you get it?”

  Another voice joined the fray, this one deep and sure. “Enough. What did you do with it?”

  Silence was the only answer.

  “Come on, tell ‘em. Tell me. For fuck’s sake, don’t do this,” came his friend’s plea.

  The deep voice of the man in charge turned to the men with him, ordering, “Do it.”

  The sounds of a scuffle along with pleas for mercy cried out.

  The deep voice intoned, “This is what happens when we don’t get what we pay for.” The sound of a gunshot echoed across the water, followed by a loud thud. Turning back to the man, left shaking as he watched his former friend lie still on the deck with blood pouring from his head, the leader demanded, “Get me what he took. I want it back or you will find yourself in a similar situation.”

  “I…I can make this right,” he panted, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I’ll deal from now on…by myself…I can make this right.”

  The man in charge stepped closer, looking into eyes now full of fright. “I want what is due to me. Get it.” With a glance downward, he added, “And get rid of that.” With the threat lingering in the air, he and his cronies moved back to their craft, leaving the lone man to decide how to get rid of the body and what to do with the boat that now had a deck slick with blood.

  Placing a shaky hand over his mouth, he choked back the fear, trying to decide what to do next. So close…so close to all that money and now this…fuck. Pushing all thoughts from his mind, he got to work knowing the dawn would come soon.

  With her phone tucked into her backpack, Jade began her walk down the beach the next morning. She hoped Jillian would text soon with an update on Tori but found that sitting at home only increased her anxiety, so she decided to head to Lance’s place by way of a beach walk. Head down, her gaze scanning the surf, she picked up sea glass as it caught her eye. She had left her apartment without a bag and, since Lance still had her pail, she simply dropped the fragments into her pocket. A piece of plastic churning around in the surf snagged her attention and she grabbed it, assuming it was trash and could be disposed of later. As she looked at the Ziplock baggie, she realized it had pieces of sea glass in it.

  Eyes wide in surprise, she looked up and down the beach but did not see anyone else. Grinning to herself, she was pleased with her find and emptied her pocket’s treasures into the baggie. Someone’s loss is my gain! Giving it a jiggle, she loved the way the colors—blue, green, amber, and purple—combined with the clear pieces.

  Just then, a figure coming from the dune ahead came into view. Lance. With something in both hands, assuming it was coffee mugs again, she wondered if he had been watching for her. Breaking into a jog, she ran straight to him. He stood, his smile sliding slowly over his handsome face. Sunglasses perched on top of his dark hair. A day-old scruff on his jaw. Cargo shorts again, paired with a black t-shirt. Stopping a few feet away, she beamed up at him.

  They stood for a moment, neither speaking, both drinking the other in. She dropped her eyes to the travel mug and said, “Is that for me?”

  At his nod, she reached out, taking the proffered drink and they fell into step heading toward his house.

  “I was hoping you’d come today,” Lance said. He noted she sported a pink ball cap with her long ponytail pulled through, pink capris paired with a long sleeved, navy t-shirt, and pink tennis shoes on her feet. Unable to keep the grin from his lips, he shifted his gaze back to his house behind the dune.

  Smiling, she replied, “And I was hoping to see your studio.”

  “Absolutely,” he grinned in return, taking her elbow to assist her up the shifting sand of the dune. As he opened the porch door he found his palms were sweating and realized that, other than Mitch and Ginny, he had had no other visitors. Self-conscious, he wondered what she would think about his home.

  “Oh, Lance, this is really nice,” she enthused, looking around as they entered the house from the porch. The room contained a long, comfortable sofa and several deep-cushioned chairs facing a flat screen TV on an antique wooden stand. Looking up, she spied some of his artwork hanging near the windows.

  Pleased she appeared to like his house, he said, “Come on back. I use a spare bedroom as a studio.”

  Jade tried not to be nosy, but it was hard, now that she was inside his home. A quick glance exposed a neat kitchen and, as she moved down the hall, sh
e peered into his bedroom, also decorated in clean, masculine lines. He turned to the room on the opposite side and she followed him in, her breath catching in her throat. A large window flooded the room with light. A long table sat against the wall, plastic containers holding sea glass divided by color and size. Near the window was a workstation, complete with drills, magnifying headwear, lamps with magnifiers connected, glue guns, and a tall wooden stand with a hanger at the top, where he was able to create the mobile while keeping it balanced.

  As she walked around, she asked questions, interested in everything she saw. Lance was thrilled to talk about his art with someone who had a genuine desire to learn.

  Jade stopped at one of the tables, a partially finished, large mosaic created from sea glass capturing her gaze, as well as stilling her heart. “Oh, Lance,” she gasped, “this is magical.”

  Lance swelled with pride, releasing a held breath. “It’s something new I’ve started. Creating something whole from the many pieces I find.” He watched as she turned toward him, her eyes, now a light green, piercing him.

  Taking in the beauty, Jade moved around the room, fascinated with his collection of sea glass. “Oh, guess what I found? Someone must have been collecting sea glass, put it in a plastic baggie, and then they lost it. I just tossed in the pieces I found today as well.” Holding the bag up, eyes wide, she rushed, “I didn’t think to ask if you were the one who lost it.”

  Grinning, he shook his head. “Not me. And no,” he added quickly, “you keep it. I don’t need it.”

  Shoving it back into her pocket, she glanced at the side of the table. “Hmmm, nice pink bucket you’ve got there.”

  Chuckling, he said, “Yeah, funny thing…some girl left a bucket of sea glass for me. I never asked if she needed her bucket back.”

  “I’d say, if she gave it to you then it’s a gift, so you have something really cool to collect your sea glass in from now on. Unless you think your masculinity will take a hit by carrying a pink, plastic, sand bucket.”

  “I think my masculinity is safe.”

  Standing in the light-flooded room, she cast her gaze over him, knowing there was no question about his masculinity. Oh, yeah…it’s safe.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Blinking, she quickly nodded. “Yes, yes. Sorry, I just…uh…was thinking of something.” Attempting to hide her heated cheeks, she turned back to his table of sea glass. Her fingers sifted through the beautiful fragments and she looked up at him. “Can I ask you something? I mean, it’s kind of personal, so if you don’t want to answer, then you can just—”

  A sliver of nerves slid through Lance but he choked them back. “Jade,” he interrupted, his eyes holding hers. “It’s okay. Just ask.”

  “I…” she fiddled with some glass, her head down, “know you used to be a police officer…in the Army…and you don’t have to tell me anything about your former life…but I just wondered how you became a…uh, you know…do all this beautiful work?”

  Familiar anxiety rushed over him—the churning in his stomach as his chest tightened. Swallowing several times, he opened his mouth but nothing came out.

  Her eyes darted to his face and she hurried to say, “It’s okay, it’s okay. I was just being nosy, it’s not my business…”

  Jade turned to leave, realizing the demons Ginny eluded to were real and staring her in the face. Hating that she ruined the moment, she headed toward the door.

  “No…” a whispered voice stopped her.

  Turning, her heart melted at the man standing in front of her. He portrayed a combination of stoicism and nervousness. Placing her hands on his arms, she gave a little squeeze, forcing her lips to curve slightly.

  “Don’t leave,” he begged, his eyes searching hers. “Please.”

  “I’ll stay,” she promised. “But you don’t have to say a word—”

  “I never saw sea glass until I came here.”

  She gripped his arms tighter at his words, then lessened her hold as she continued to stare into his face, knowing there was so much to his story and wondering if he ever talked to anyone.

  “When I left the Army, I got a job in Richland, worked Vice with the police department there. Things weren’t really working out. It was all a bit…too much. Mitch was already in Baytown and contacted me, invited me to come. I took one look at the bay the first morning I was here and decided to stay.” Looking down at the table next to them, small plastic containers filled with organized sea glass, he said, “I started seeing this on the beach, and couldn’t believe my eyes. Little pieces of broken glass bottles…blue, green, amber, clear…they should be shit…you know…broken bottles? But, instead, they’re like jewels.”

  Honored he was confiding in her, her breath caught in her throat as she stared at this strong man, both wondering what had happened to him and utterly fascinated by his unique personality. Afraid to speak and break the spell, she prayed he felt her strength through her touch.

  Swallowing audibly again, he shook his head slightly before adding, “I don’t know, really, what made me want to do anything with them. I started collecting…then organizing…” With a rueful snort, he added, “I’m a natural organizer, I guess. I like things to fit neatly into categories. Anyway, I saw a magazine article talking about pictures that people made with sea glass. I’m not a trained artist. I’m just a man who wanted to make something whole out of all the broken pieces. But as I worked with it, combining them, using glue and wire to create groupings, I first thought of a mobile…searching for balance. And then the idea of putting them together for a mosaic came to me.”

  Lance’s gaze moved slowly from the glass on the table to Jade’s face, fear etched in the lines around his mouth, but the light in her eyes eased his concern. Her smile wrapped around his heart, warming the chilled corners.

  Her hand on his arm slid down until she was clasping his fingers, a gentle squeeze relaxing his fist, allowing her fingers to link with his. “Thank you for sharing that with me,” she whispered, stepping closer.

  He slid his free hand around her back, hesitant until she moved forward, placing her cheek on his chest. They stood silent, barely breathing, barely touching. He rested his chin on the top of her head, the fresh scent of her shampoo wafting through the air, and he felt his body relax.

  He had shared a tiny piece of his life and she had taken it, held it, and thanked him, turning the first of his pain into something beautiful.

  11

  “Thank God she’s okay,” Ginny greeted Mitch as the Baytown Police Department meeting began.

  He grinned, his smile showing his relief. “Yeah, Tori’s fine. Doc said it was probably something she ate, but the baby’s all snuggled in safe and sound. So, while it was a scare and I’ve got her at home for a few days, she’s fine.”

  Grant, Burt, and Sam sat at the table with Ginny and Mitch, rounding out the BPD. Burt was a young officer, married with two children. Sam, the oldest member of the department, had served when Mitch’s grandfather was Police Chief and when Mitch’s father was as well. Mildred, their purple grey-haired, steadfast police transcriber and reporter, as well as her sister, Mable, their blue grey-haired, receptionist, flitted in and out, checking on Mitch as well as bringing in snacks for the officers.

  Mitch, getting down to business, began the meeting, assigning duties and reviewing open cases. Thankfully, most of the cases were minor. A bucket of pecans had been stolen from someone’s carport. The town manager was upset because people were parking backward on Main Street. The owner of the town’s trailer park wanted police drive-bys at random times, fearing there might be drug sales taking place.

  As the meeting came to a close, Sam, rubbing his chin, said, “Mitch, before we break, I need to talk to you all about something.”

  The officers shared looks, each figuring they knew what he was going to say.

  “I know this won’t come as a surprise, but I’m ready to retire. Wife’s been on me about my health for the last couple of yea
rs.” He sighed heavily, adding, “Don’t know how I’ll take to retirement, but she’s got trips planned and, well,” he smiled, “I’d like to see my grandkids more.”

  Mitch nodded, saying, “I knew this day was coming Sam, but I hate like hell to lose you. You served with my granddad and dad, and made my transition to this office so much easier.”

  “What timeframe are you looking at?” Burt asked.

  Rubbing his chin some more, he said, “Well, I can be flexible. I was on the state retirement system website and checked my employment dates and what my income would be, and I can leave at any time. I’d like to stay at least another month to give you a chance to find someone.”

  “I appreciate that, Sam. You’ll have to file the formal paperwork with Mildred before we can advertise, but,” Mitch said, “as you may know, the town’s budget has a part-time officer open. I wondered about the feasibility of this, but if we can find a full-time officer to fill your position, we would still have a part-time position to fill.”

  Ginny, her gaze on Mitch, asked, “You got anyone in mind you’d like to apply?”

  Chuckling, he said, “Well, I think we’d all like to see Lance apply for either position. When I met him in the Army, he was a helluva criminal investigator. But…I have no idea if he would consider it.”

  “He helped us on that voyeur case a few months back,” Grant remembered. “I know he prefers his privacy, but he had no problem coming to help when we needed him.”

  “There’s a big difference between helping on a case and actually reporting in to work every day,” Burt commented. “But, Mitch, you know him best…so we’ve got nothing to lose by asking him.”

  “Here is some more sea glass,” Jade called out, wandering amongst the tables of children as they glued the pieces to the edges of picture frames. “Once you’re finished, we’ll set them on the bookshelves. Since your name is already on the back, yours will be ready for you when we get the photographs to insert.”