Picking Up the Pieces

by Maryann Jordan

  Jade sat on the bed, the barely heard whir of the overhead fan circling the only noise in the room, besides her ragged breathing. Suddenly uncomfortable with her state of undress as well, she climbed off the bed and found her clothes lying on the floor. She managed, with difficulty, to get her panties and bra on, but her wrist hurt trying to do the buttons on the shirt. Seeing his drawer still open, she found a large t-shirt of his and pulled it over her head. Sucking her lips between her teeth, she stood for a long moment of indecision. She could not leave because she had no car, but then she realized she did not want to leave. She wanted to comfort him, but had no idea how he would respond, and did not want to make things worse.

  Her gaze drifted from the closed bathroom door and back to the bed. She now hated that they had started the conversation there. What should have been nothing but an incredible memory of lovemaking in his comfortable bed, was now tainted by the horrible memories he dredged up there…at my suggestion. With a heavy sigh leaving her lungs, she winced and hobbled to the bed, picking up the plates, most of the food eaten. Making her way to the kitchen, she discarded the scraps and washed the plates in the sink.

  The moon was hanging over the bay, visible from his screened porch. Pulled by some unknown force, she walked onto the porch, the sound of the gentle surf easing the pain in her chest. Standing, with her hand on the screen, she felt the breeze blow off the bay as the moon’s reflection painted the water’s surface with glittering diamonds. In the distance, she could see the lights from the cargo ships anchored in the bay and thought about the men and women who spent their careers on them. Sailing from shore to shore, country to country. Closing her eyes, she knew she was just trying to keep from thinking of Lance, the man who held her heart. The man whose pain was real and keeping him from moving forward.

  Feeling a tear escape, she wiped the moisture from her cheek.

  “Don’t cry for me,” came a rough voice from behind her.

  Whirling around, she looked into Lance’s face, her heart now in her throat. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

  He stepped closer, encircling her with his arms as she rested her cheek on his chest. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

  “But I brought up all this terrible past for you and—”

  “And nothing,” he shushed. “Babe, this past is always there. It’s been right there first thing every morning. And right there as I lay in bed at night, staring at the damn ceiling fan. It never leaves me. But, what I realized standing in the fucking bathroom, staring into the mirror, was that I’m sick and tired of carrying it by myself. Tired of letting it define who I am and what I do.”

  She pulled back slightly to peer into his eyes, now hazel again in the moonlight, warm as they stared back at her. His gaze roamed over her face as his sigh washed over her skin.

  “I love seeing you in my shirt, babe, but you shouldn’t be out here in the cold. Come on, let’s go back inside.”

  She allowed him to lead her in, his arm supporting her as they walked. She hesitated in the living room, but he continued to guide her back toward the bedroom.

  “Honey, maybe we should sit out here for a while.”

  He looked down, his head tilted as he considered her words. “Any reason why?”

  “I just thought maybe it would be better to talk out here…not on the bed.”

  Another heavy sigh escaped his lips. “Shit.”

  Eyes wide, she startled. “What?”

  “Baby, we started talking in the place where we made love…the perfect place to learn more about each other. But when I got overwhelmed and afraid you would see things on my face I wasn’t ready for you to see, I fucked up that place.” Seeing her about to protest, he placed his fingers over her lips. “Don’t deny it, sweetheart. I can hear it in your voice.”

  Turning his body so they were facing each other in the hall, he said, “Come on.” This time, he led her into the studio, flipping on a small light that gently illuminated the room, allowing the sea glass to sparkle all around. “This is where I need to finish my story. In here, where it will make sense.”

  25

  Jade sat, perched on the stool near Lance’s work table, her eyes on the man standing in front of her.

  Taking her cold hands in his, he said, “The scene was utter destruction. The vehicle was smoking, torn, scrap metal. I jumped up and ran as close as I could, my eyes taking in what my mind did not want to accept. Most of my team were inside, already dead. I ran around the perimeter, but all I saw was…” he sucked in a deep breath through his nose before letting it out slowly. “But all I saw were pieces. Body parts. My men were gone. Nothing left. As I stood there, my lungs burning, my heart ripping to shreds, I heard new screaming over the roar of the fires. Racing back to what had been the passenger side, I saw Jose.”

  Bending slightly, his chest tight, Lance sucked in more air, the room feeling small…choking. Jade, squeezing his hands in hers, uttered soft words of comfort as she watched him struggled with the memories.

  Finally, standing back up, he continued, “Jose was alive. Barely, but alive. I ran over, dropped to his side and pulled him further away from the vehicle. And that’s when we both saw.”

  Afraid to speak, Jade sat, unmoving, willing her strength to pass through to his body.

  “Jose’s legs were mostly gone. The blast took part of his legs and…and…even higher. I had a medical kit in my pack and I grabbed it to try to get some pain meds in him while I called for help. I only turned my back for a few seconds but it was too much. He looked down, realizing his legs, as well as his manhood, were gone and he fuckin’ couldn’t deal. I turned back with the syringe in my hand and he had his gun in his hand, the barrel right against his head.”

  Her eyes were now huge, her breath catching in her throat as well. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

  Nodding, his eyes now full of sadness, he let go of one of her hands to run his fingers over his face as he sighed. “Yeah. My best friend, who in that moment of painful agony could not face the idea of life with what had happened, pulled the trigger.”

  “Oh, Lance,” she gasped, tears now streaming down her face. “I’m so sorry…so sorry,” she cried over and over, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Standing, Lance looked over her head for a moment before lowering his gaze back to hers, his thumbs wiping away her tears. “I was never the same after that. I came back to the states, off the assignment. I suppose I should have wanted revenge and to go after the fuckers who set us up, but to keep going, with my team all dead…just couldn’t do it.”

  “The driver…what about him?”

  His heart turned cold as he replied, “I staggered over to where he had crawled, my weapon out, ready to do to him what Jose had just done to himself, but I didn’t have to. A large piece of metal was embedded in his chest, but he was still alive. Fucker was still alive. Barely. He looked up, his eyes wide as death clawed at him. And I just stared. Watched him die and did nothing to ease his pain. Just watched him die.” Looking at her, he said, “And now you know. You know what haunted me for so long and what kind of man I am.”

  “Oh, honey, I think you are the best of men,” Jade vowed. Her eyes left his face as they moved around the room, the perfectly balanced mobiles of glittering sea glass twinkling around. “Your art. The mobiles…the mosaics. You put the pieces together to make beautiful objects.”

  Nodding, he agreed. “I told you I’m not a trained artist. Never thought of art. Hell, if my team even thought I was creating artwork they’d laugh their asses off.” His fingers trailed through a plastic tub of beautiful green pieces of sea glass. Picking a dark green piece out of the bin, he continued, “But somehow, working with these made me feel a little better. I had no idea until recently of the healing psychology behind it, but creating something whole out of the pieces gave me a sense of peace.”

  He brought the deep green piece toward her face and offered a small smile. “My favorite color was always the green ones…the
y look like beautiful jade.” Chuckling, he said, “Guess I should have realized I was a goner the first time I looked into your green eyes. And then your name? Yeah, I might have roared and growled, but I was a goner for you.”

  “And now?” Her soft voice soothed him, but Lance knew what she was asking in just those two words.

  “Now? I’m working on becoming the whole man I once was. One who wants to make things right…work at putting my own pieces together again. One who is willing to use his skills as an investigator. And one who wants to protect the people he loves.”

  Wordlessly, she stood from the stool, taking his hand in hers and leading him out of the studio and back to his bedroom, ready to claim it as their place of love once more. Smiling, Lance went willingly.

  Hours later, lying in bed watching the ceiling fan turn, Lance recognized that everything was different now. Jade, her head on his shoulder, her wrapped wrist propped on his chest and her legs carefully tangled with his, slept in his arms. His thoughts moved over his Army buddies, but instead of horror, he thought of how they were before the mission. Laughing, joking, talking. Jose liked to share the letters, pictures, and care packages his wife sent. A smile curved his lips as he thought of Jose’s barking laughter making every joke even funnier. The blades of the fan turned overhead and he knew it was time to let go.

  Man, you gotta know, I carry you in my heart. But now, I gotta make room for someone else…someone who’s right here, right now. Hell, buddy, someone’s after her and I gotta give this all I’ve got to keep her safe.

  An image of Jose grinning back, throwing a thumbs up as he walked away, filled his mind and for the first time in years, he fell into a peaceful slumber of a night with no nightmares.

  Standing on the screened porch the next morning, Jade watched the day dawning as Lance brought coffee to her. Taking a grateful sip, she nodded toward the cargo ships in the bay, and said, “Looks like a few more have joined the wait to get into the Chesapeake ports.”

  Lance smiled, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, loving the silky feeling. “So, are you sure you want to go to your apartment today?”

  “I know you’re worried, but I really need to. My foot is much better…honestly just a dull ache now. The girls will be with me and I know Gareth has already changed the locks. Mr. and Mrs. Poletta called and said that I was not to worry. They were more upset that someone wanted to harm me than they were about the apartment.”

  “I’d really like you to stay with me,” he said, his voice caressing her ear as he leaned over, placing a kiss on her neck.

  Giggling, she said, “I’m just going over to do some cleaning and to make sure everything is in place.” Turning in his arms, she peered up into his face, seeing sincerity. “To be truthful, I’d like to be here too, but let’s give us a chance. A lot has happened and I don’t want to rush things too fast.”

  “I know and, normally, I’m a cautious man, but sweetheart, I want you with someone during the day and with me at night. Whether here or there, I don’t want you left alone.” He hesitated before adding, “And Jade…right now you don’t have a bed to sleep in at your place.”

  Lance watched her face fall and he pulled her tighter. “The sooner we can find out who murdered George and why they think you have something, the sooner your life can move forward.”

  Pulling back, she offered a little smile. “Okay, then…I agree.”

  “Good, now let’s get you to your apartment and then I’ll head to the station.”

  Assisting Jade into her apartment, searching it carefully before welcoming Jillian and Katelyn inside, Lance kissed her soundly before heading back down the stairs. After making sure everything was fine with Gareth, who was outside installing a security system, he drove to the station.

  Once inside the police workroom, he poured another cup of coffee before sitting down to see what progress had been made.

  Mitch entered, asking, “So, what have we got?”

  Burt pulled up his laptop and began his report. “George was not a wealthy man, generally pouring most of what he earned back into his business…gasoline, new nets and traps, paying the workers on his boats, repairs, insurance. Now, that’s not unusual for someone who owns their own business, but what is unusual is the amount of money he’d been putting into his bank account in the last six months. He went from a bank balance of about eight thousand dollars to over fifty thousand dollars.”

  Grant whistled at the increase while the others had similar expressions of surprise.

  Mitch inquired, “Any idea where the money was coming from?”

  “He made cash deposits of about five grand every other week for about the last five months.”

  “Cash?” Ginny asked, her eyes wide. “What was he involved in that gave him that kind of money?”

  “Something worth murdering for.”

  The other officer’s eyes jumped to Lance, his face hard and unreadable as he scanned the report from Burt. He looked up at Mitch and said, “George was doing something and somehow he involved Jade. She has no knowledge of why, but there’s got to be a tie-in. Something he said to her, gave to her…something, Goddamnit!” His fist landed on the table, slamming home the point of his frustration. “What are we missing?”

  “Stay objective,” Mitch ordered. Turning to Ginny, he said, “Pull up the notes from Jade’s interview. Let’s look at what she said again.”

  As Ginny scrolled on her laptop, Callan walked in. “Sorry, late night. Had to rescue a few drunk businessmen out on a boat, thinking they knew how to handle their vessel when all they managed to do was get lost. Floated too close to one of the cargo ships in the bay. It should have had alarms that sounded when the smaller boat got close but, like a bunch of the ships in the bay, half its equipment probably didn’t work.”

  Lance’s head swiveled around to Callan and he repeated, “Its equipment probably didn’t work?”

  Callan nodded, “Just like trucks on the highways, some of those big, old cargo ships, especially ones that come from other countries where regulations might be slack, have things on them that don’t work worth shit.”

  “They’re supposed to have equipment that alerts them to other ships in the area?”

  “Absolutely. They should know the location of all other watercraft in the area. When you look out on the bay and see them anchored, awaiting permission to enter the port area, they are anchored well away from each other.”

  “And small boats nearby…they know when one is near?”

  “Absolutely. Even at night.”

  “So, what happened last night?”

  “We got a call from the small boat when they sobered up enough to realize they had no idea where they were or how to get back to the harbor. When we finally got to them, they were perilously close to one of the large ships. We contacted the ship and ended up having a very one-sided conversation with some Russian crewmembers.” Rolling his eyes, he added, “Bet a paycheck, the guy knew more English than he was letting on.”

  Mitch observed Lance closely, before asking, “What are you thinking, ‘cause I know you don’t give a shit about the ships in the bay?”

  “I kept focusing on what George may have given or said to Jade. Maybe that’s not it at all. Maybe it’s something that she was doing that had nothing to do with George.”

  Jade stood in her apartment, staring at the empty space where her sofa had sat. Trying to make herself feel better, she remembered she bought it on Craig’s List, though she had paid extra for them to deliver it to her third floor home. The mattress had been bought new, but it was low quality, all she could afford at the time.

  Arms wrapped around her from behind and she smiled at Katelyn’s voice near her ear. “It’s gonna be fine, sweetie.”

  “I know…really I do.”

  “You know what we need? A bridesmaid party!” Jillian’s arms came from the front and the three of them stood hugging for a moment.

  “To go along with all the wedding-planning meetin
gs we had!” Katelyn agreed.

  “Well, I get married just after Thanksgiving, which is, wow, in just about a week actually, and I think it’s the perfect time for another girl’s only party,” Jillian laughed.

  “Sounds good to me,” she nodded. “Just let me know when and where.”

  As they surveyed the apartment now that the furniture was put right, the clothes were washed, and the kitchen items were out of the dishwasher, she tried to look at it as fresh and new. But all she could see was some unknown person rifling through her belongings, slashing her sofa and bed, and searching for God knows what.

  “Have you decided what you’re going to do? Where you’re going to stay?” Katelyn asked.

  Sucking in her lips, she replied, “Belle invited me to stay with her, but I don’t want to bring any danger to her. Lance wants me with him and as much as I want that too, I hate to rush things. We’re so new…new to each other as friends, new to each other in a relationship. What if by moving in, things go badly—”

  “Honey,” Jillian interrupted, holding her arms as she moved in close. “You can’t worry too much now about a bunch of what ifs. You’ve got someone after you. The police don’t know why now, but I promise they will. And in the meantime, you’ve got a hot detective who’s broken down his barriers to take care of you. I say, go for it!”

  “Well, when you put it like that, I guess I will!” she grinned, her heart finally lifting.

  26

  “So, what the hell was Jade doing?” Grant asked, staring at Lance.

  “She goes out and searches for sea glass every chance she gets.” Seeing the other officers about to protest, he threw his hand up. “But that’s not all. She catalogs the information on the ships in the bay.”

  Mitch’s eyes narrowed as he asked Lance the question he figured everyone was asking themselves. “Why?”