A MAN TO TRUST

by Justine Davis

Sam wasn't fooled. She looked from him to Kelsey and back. "So you guys can fight again?"

  "No," Cruz said.

  "Yes," Kelsey said.

  The girl eyed them both, then shook her head at the vagaries of adults, grabbed the money and darted over to the ice cream stand and got in line.

  Kelsey eyed Cruz warily, very much aware that he had intentionally removed the buffer his daughter provided. When he moved toward her, Kelsey backed up instinctively. He moved again, and she tensed, wondering what he was going to do out here in public.

  "Hold still, will you?" he finally said, sounding exasperated. "I'm just trying to get to where I can watch out for Sam."

  "Oh." Feeling more than a little deflated, Kelsey stood still.

  "Look, there's nothing official, at least not yet."

  "Yet," Kelsey repeated ominously. "Why did you have to butt in at all?"

  He sighed. "I never expected what it would turn into. I thought she was just a runaway." He gave her a pointed glance. "If you'd told me what was going on, I—"

  "You would have what? Kept your nose out of it?"

  Cruz checked on Sam, then folded his arms across his chest and looked at Kelsey. "So far you've got my nose and my butt involved," he said wryly. "Any other parts you're particularly interested in?"

  Caught off guard by the quip—and the now too-familiar and too-frequent thoughts his words brought rushing to mind—Kelsey drew back slightly. She stood there for a moment, just looking at him, at his lean, straight body, the thick dark hair and bright blue eyes set off by the golden tint of his skin. Oh, yes, there were other parts she was interested in, she thought. More interested than she dared be. More interested than she had any right to be.

  "I just wish you hadn't gotten involved, that's all," she said, a little breathless as she struggled to find the anger she seemed to have lost.

  "All I did was have our juvie detective make a routine request for the report. Normally that wouldn't even raise an eyebrow."

  "But it did."

  "Because of the circumstances of the case, it probably will, yes." He glanced at Sam again, although Kelsey doubted she was ever really out of his field of vision. But then, for a moment, he focused on her intently. "I presume you know she's pregnant?"

  She let out a compressed breath. "Yes. Why do you think I'm so worried about her? She's scared, Cruz. She doesn't know what to do."

  "Why did she come to you? Do you know her, or her family?"

  "That doesn't matter," she said, trying to divert him from questions she couldn't answer.

  "Don't want to talk about that? Okay, so we let that slide for the moment. Did she tell you she ripped off her folks when she left?"

  Kelsey lowered her eyes; God, he knew it all. Everything. No wonder he'd come looking for her; he was probably hoping she would lead him to Melissa, so that the girl could be arrested for stealing or something. Explanations leaped to her lips, all the reasons why a kid could be so desperate to get away, but she bit them back. He was a cop, what would he care? Even though he seemed so nice, even though he was so wonderful with his daughter, hadn't he just proved he was pure cop by insisting on stirring up trouble for Melissa, even if it had been unintentional?

  She looked up at him again. His eyes were flicking from Sam, still waiting in the long line, to her and back again, quickly. Somehow the thought that even in the midst of a rather heated discussion he never lost track of his little girl, both comforted her and brought on that wistful feeling again. She fought both sensations off.

  "I just have to find her," she said stubbornly. "That's all that matters."

  "I don't think so," Cruz said, and there was an edge in his voice now that she'd never heard from him before. It startled her, how different he sounded. "How about her boyfriend, Sutter? Did she happen to mention him?"

  "Doug? Only briefly. He … doesn't want the baby, she said. Or her, now that she's pregnant."

  Cruz let out a short, harsh laugh. "She didn't tell you what a charmer he is?"

  Her chin came up. "I know he … hit her, if that's what you mean." Her mouth twisted. "She bought the classic old line, that it was because he loved her, that if he didn't care he wouldn't bother to hit her. I tried to explain how wrong it was, but I don't know if she believed me. It's so hard to convince—"

  "I mean," Cruz said sharply, interrupting her, "that he has a record back to age ten, including two arrests for assault with a deadly weapon. Did she forget to include that?"

  Her gaze snapped back to his face in shock. "I… Yes. She never told me that," she said, a little weakly.

  "He'd be in the custody of the youth authority right now, on the last ADW, except that the only witness mysteriously recanted his statement. Sutter carries a knife big enough to carve a turkey, and he's carved up a few people with it. And he's threatened to make Melissa next."

  Kelsey blanched. "Melissa? Why?"

  "Apparently he doesn't believe the baby is his. He's threatened to kill her for cheating on him."

  "Oh, God," she whispered. "Why didn't she tell me?"

  "Yes, why didn't she tell you?" Cruz said, his tone sharp. "Maybe because she figured any sane person would call the police if she did?"

  She knew he was aiming that at her. But she didn't care, not now, not when she was struggling to absorb this revelation.

  "I can't believe she didn't tell me her life was in danger. No wonder she was so terrified. I thought it was just because she'd taken those things from her parents, and I kept telling her that could be worked out, but she was just so scared. No wonder she ran when she saw you. You'd make her go back, and then he'd find her."

  "I don't believe you!" Cruz snapped incredulously. "This kid doesn't bother to tell you that she's got a half crazy, knife-wielding boyfriend after her, and all you can think about is that she was scared? What about you, Kelsey? Did you ever stop to think that she put you in danger, too?"

  "Me?"

  "What if he found her? And you with her?"

  She hadn't thought of that; it hadn't even occurred to her. "Why would he hurt me?"

  "Damn it, use your head!"

  The minute the curse slipped out, he glanced toward the ice cream stand, where Sam was at last at the window, as if afraid she might have heard him. Despite being upset, Kelsey was touched by this further bit of parental concern. But when he turned back to her, the spurt of warmth faded, despite the unexpected heat in his blue eyes.

  "I suppose you'd just stand by and let him take her away?" He ground out the words.

  "Of course not," Kelsey protested.

  "Exactly. You'd try to interfere. And just what do you think would happen to anybody who tried to stop him?"

  She hadn't thought of it that way, either. And she didn't know quite what to think of him being so certain of what she'd do.

  "Kelsey, listen to me. However you got into this, or why, it's too much. You're in over your head. Let the police handle it."

  Everything he'd told her was spinning in her head. And it all somehow got mixed with her own memories of being scared and on the run. Her memories were different, but no less ugly, just in a different way, a way that made a threat with a knife somehow almost clean, or at least honest. She bit her lip, trying to think, to sort it all out.

  Sam was headed back now, three ice cream bars of some kind in her hands. In the part of her mind that wasn't reeling, Kelsey was touched by being included, even by a child. As she watched the bright-haired girl approach, her perception shifted oddly, as if she were seeing Samantha years from now, as she would no doubt be, thanks to her father: smart, self-confident, strong, never having been scared in the way Melissa was. In the way Kelsey herself once had been. The image shifted again, and she saw herself years ago. At Sam's age, she'd already lost most of her childhood innocence.

  The images whirled, blurred, spun. She was vaguely aware of taking the ice cream bar Sam offered her, but her thoughts kept spinning. Gradually, one thing overpowered them all: the knowledge of just how
scared Melissa must be. She'd been that scared in her life before, Kelsey thought. So scared she hadn't known who to trust. And when she'd finally had no choice but to trust someone, when she'd had to make that choice, she knew what it would have done to her if that one person had let her down.

  As terrified as Melissa was, she had come to Kelsey for help. She had come to her because she had no one else to turn to, nowhere else to go.

  But she had lied. Or, at least, left out a crucial, dangerous piece of information when she poured out her sad story. There was that to consider, too.

  Did you ever stop to think that she put you in danger, too?

  Cruz's words echoed in her mind. He was right, she supposed. She was certain it hadn't been Melissa's intent, but it was the result, nevertheless.

  Just as it hadn't been Cruz's intent to start rolling wheels that couldn't be stopped. The thought came to her suddenly, and she wondered if he hadn't just been being a cop, if maybe, just maybe, he really had only meant to help.

  And maybe, just maybe, she needed that kind of help. A scared, pregnant girl was one thing. A half-crazed, vindictive, knife-carrying boyfriend was something else.

  She couldn't give up on Melissa. She just couldn't.

  But what should she do?

  "Your ice cream's gonna melt," Samantha pointed out kindly, jarring Kelsey out of her confused thoughts.

  "You're right," she said, peeling back the wrapper. "I guess I should … rejoin reality, huh?"

  She said the last with a sideways glance at Cruz, seeing by his face that he got the underlying meaning.

  "We've got another couple of miles of beach here," he said quietly. "Let's keep looking. You can eat while we go. And think."

  Kelsey felt a tightness in her throat at his understanding. At every turn, this man was showing her he wasn't the kind of cop she thought most of them were. Maybe things truly had changed since she needed their help and they failed her. It had been more than fifteen years, after all. Maybe cops were different now.

  Or maybe it was just that Cruz Gregerson was a different kind of cop.

  Had it been just her, she would have risked it. But then, if it had been just her, there would be nothing to risk. She was safe now, and had been for a long time. No thanks to anyone who wore a badge, but only to the one person in the world she'd been able to trust, the one person who hadn't let her down.

  Melissa had thought Kelsey was that person for her.

  But the teenager had also broken one of the few cardinal rules.

  Kelsey sighed as they started walking. Her eyes searched the crowds on the sidewalk and out on the sand, looking for Melissa, or any likely-looking group of kids. She was worried that none of them would talk to her with Cruz along, until common sense reasserted itself; he wasn't in uniform, and it wasn't like he wore a sign saying "Off-duty Cop." And he didn't work down here in plush Marina del Mar, so chances were nobody would recognize him.

  She glanced at him, at the darkly handsome man with the unexpected blue eyes, his hand protectively on the shoulder of the live-wire child with the sunny blond hair, and thought that "cop" was the last thing anyone would think when they saw them.

  Or maybe it was just her point of view that was skewed. Maybe she still held more hurt and blame inside than she realized. Maybe other people saw cops as just … people, people who weren't paid nearly enough to do what others didn't want to, risking their lives so that others didn't have to, trying to keep the peace so that others could go about their lives without thinking about such things as crime and death and ugliness.

  Why on earth anyone would want to do it was beyond her.

  Why Cruz would want to do it fascinated her.

  Why it fascinated her made her very nervous.

  It was well into the afternoon when Kelsey finally had to admit they weren't going to find the girl here. And since she'd already exhausted her other ideas in the two previous days of searching, she was at a loss. She came to a halt and sat wearily on the seawall at the edge of the sidewalk.

  "Dad?"

  "Yes, squirt?"

  "Are we done yet?"

  Kelsey felt a pang of guilt; the child hadn't complained at all, despite all the walking and the heat. Although Cruz had picked her up and deposited her back on his shoulders a couple of hours ago. Which meant he had to be tired, too, but he'd never said a word about stopping.

  "I'm sorry, Sam," she said. "I know this must be awfully boring for you."

  "Sometimes important things are boring," the little girl said wisely from her perch. "Dad says so, huh?"

  "I suppose he does," Cruz said, swinging her down to a seat beside Kelsey, then sitting down himself.

  "Even important police stuff is boring sometimes," Sam informed Kelsey solemnly.

  "Is it?" She looked at Cruz. "I never asked … exactly what you do."

  "No, you didn't."

  Kelsey felt her stomach knot at his flat statement. He didn't say another word, but she knew what he was thinking. She hadn't bothered to differentiate but had lumped all cops together, then lumped him in with them.

  "He's a detective sergeant," Sam said. "He's the boss of the F unit."

  Kelsey blinked. "The what?"

  "Felony unit," Cruz explained. "An impressive name for me and two overworked detectives."

  "But they're the best, huh, Dad?" Sam added.

  He reached out and tugged at the girl's breeze-tangled hair. "That they are, squirt. Best in the county, officially. Best unit in the state, if you ask me."

  "They work on the really hard stuff. Right, Dad?"

  "That's why they call it the felony unit," Cruz said with a shrug.

  The girl turned back to Kelsey and said proudly, "And he's got all kinds of awards and stuff, and they even gave him a medal—"

  "That's enough of that." He cut off the bragging and looked at Kelsey. "What now, Kelsey? Will you let me help?"

  She hesitated, torn between the need to keep Melissa safe and the growing feeling that, as he'd said, she was in over her head. What good would it do if she found Melissa and then Doug found them?

  He has a record back to age ten, including two arrests for assault with a deadly weapon.

  If that was true, and she supposed Cruz had no reason to lie, then she couldn't stop him. He clearly wasn't about to listen to her if she tried to talk to him, and while she might be the fool Cruz probably thought her, she wasn't fool enough to believe she could do much against a knife.

  "So my choices are to keep trying to find her myself, and if I do, pray Doug doesn't find us, or turn things over to the police and then do nothing while Melissa gets sent back to the parents who kicked her out?"

  Cruz sighed. "Look, her parents reported her, obviously they're worried about her."

  "According to Melissa, they're more worried about what their friends and family will think than they are about her."

  "Why did her parents kick her out?" Sam asked with great interest. "I didn't know parents could do that."

  Cruz looked at his daughter. "We'll talk about it later."

  Sam let out an exaggerated sigh. "It's one of those things that I'll understand when I'm older, right?"

  "Yes. Kelsey?"

  "I just realized," she said morosely. "I really don't have a choice, do I? It's already in the hands of the police. You."

  He gave her a look that made her wonder if he was going to ask her again what had made her distrust the police. But he said nothing for a moment. Then, finally, he spoke.

  "I can try to keep this quiet a little longer. We can stall off Ventura for a while, but not long. If you'll give us whatever else you have, when Melissa showed up at Oak Tree, anything she said, I can ask Gage to do some checking off the record."

  "Gage?"

  "Gage Butler. He's in the juvenile and sex crimes unit. He's the best there is. He's got incredible sources we don't even question anymore, and a dedication to the job that's borderline obsessive. If anyone can get results in a hurry, he can. It's not Trin
ity West's jurisdiction, but he'll do it if I ask him to."

  "He's nice, too," Sam offered. "Even if he is sad most of the time."

  Cruz blinked and stared at his daughter. "Sad?"

  Sam nodded. "He looks like my animals do when they're hurt. They can't say it, so it shows in their eyes."

  Cruz drew back slightly. "Out of the mouths of babes," he murmured. "So that's what it is."

  "What what is?" Kelsey asked, watching the exchange curiously, wondering yet again at the wisdom that came wrapped in this unlikely ten-year-old package.

  Cruz looked at her. "I've always wondered what it was about Gage that … made it hard to look him in the eye sometimes. Not like he was hiding anything, but…"

  "Because he wasn't?" Kelsey asked.

  "Yes."

  Kelsey stared down at her shoes, then past them to the sand scattered across the concrete sidewalk, tracked into swirling patterns by countless feet. The thought of a sad cop rattled her perceptions nearly as much as Cruz had. And she began to wonder if maybe they weren't perceptions at all, but preconceptions she'd never bothered to question. She had done, it seem, an awful lot of assuming in her life.

  "He really is the best, Kelsey. Let him do what he can."

  "Why?" she finally asked. "Why do you want to get involved in this?"

  "I didn't want to," Cruz said dryly. "I wanted a nice, quiet vacation."

  "Then take it. Just let it go." She wondered even as she said it what on earth she would do if he turned and walked away. She'd run out of ideas, run out of possibilities, and had no idea what to do next.

  "I can't do that, Kelsey," he said, and then, with an odd sort of emphasis, added, "Not now."

  "Why?" she repeated. Some tiny part of her mind admitted that she knew perfectly well what she wanted to hear, just as she knew both that she wouldn't hear it and that she wouldn't know what to do if she did.

  "It's Melissa's best hope, and it'll keep you safe."

  "It's Melissa I'm worried about."

  "I know that. So since you won't, somebody else has to worry about you."

  The implication that that somebody else was him threatened to make her blush furiously; it was too close to what she'd wanted to hear, that he wouldn't let it go because of her. She turned away, just in case her cheeks were coloring anyway; she couldn't really tell, after being out in the sun so long.