A broken window and a door ajar alerted him to danger lurking inside. He flipped open his phone and punched in the police’s number. After reporting the break-in, he pocketed the cell and weaved his way toward the deck. Plastering himself up flat against his house, he listened, wishing he had his gun, which to his horror was stored on the top shelf of the closet in the hallway. He hoped the intruders didn’t find it and the ammo and that they didn’t have one with them.
The sound of something crashing to the floor stiffened him. Dane leaned as close to the broken window as he could and not be detected. Male voices floated to him, boiling his anger.
“He’ll regret the day he messed with me,” came the declaration followed by the ripping of fabric.
Clark Norton! Dane saw red, his hands fisting at his sides. He should wait for backup, but if he did, his home would be destroyed by the punks. He eased the back door open and crept over the threshold.
“This is for turning me in to the police,” the young male voice said.
All around Dane lay broken pieces of their dishes and containers of food torn open and dumped on the tile floor, as though a bomb had been detonated in his kitchen. Fury welled up, and Dane had to force it down in order to remain in control.
Glass shattered. The noise coming from the living room drove him to tap into all his training that had laid dormant for nearly three years. The intruders were at the front of the house, having a good ol’ time from the sounds of their destruction. If he could get to the hall closet off the kitchen and retrieve his gun, then hopefully he could put an end to this senselessness.
He picked his way through the remnants of the teenagers’ rage and eased the door to the hallway open, peering out into the corridor. Empty. The continual havoc being waged on his home resonated through it. Again he had to tap into his determination to stay in control to keep himself from storming down the hall to stop the punks.
He edged toward the closet, flipping on the light switch. Inching the door open, he slid inside. After finding his gun in its locked box on the top shelf in the back, he hunted for the ammunition, kept in a separate area, and loaded his weapon, then slipped back out into the hallway.
“We’d better leave, Clark. We’ve been here longer than we usually stay.”
Dane flattened himself against the wall near the entrance into the living room. Bringing his gun up, he readied himself to step forward.
“One more room. The den, then we’re out of here. They’re all at Crystal’s. Can’t believe so many turned out for the funeral of a criminal.”
The sound of the male voices grew nearer. Dane saw Clark first, then another boy coming into the entry hall. He knew there were three but the last one must have hung back. If Dane didn’t do something soon, Clark and his friend would spot him.
Dane waited for a second, hoping the third one would appear. When he didn’t, he made his move, bracing himself with his feet apart, his weapon leveled at the two. Out of the corner of his eye, Dane glimpsed the third teen, still in the living room, off to the side.
“Stop right there,” Dane said in his toughest voice.
Clark and the second boy whirled around and froze while the third one ducked back behind the living room entrance. Dane heard the pounding of the fleeing teen as he ran toward the kitchen and out the back door.
“It seems your friend has left you,” Dane said, his gaze never leaving the two punks in his entryway.
The teen next to Clark shook, a look of fear gripping him, while Clark straightened to his full height, disdain in his expression.
“What are ya gonna do? Shoot us?” Clark took a step back toward the front door, then another one.
“So you think if you run, I won’t do anything. You broke into my house. I don’t have to shoot to kill. I can wound you so you won’t be going anywhere. Is that what you want? ’Cause if it is, then keep taking a step back.”
Clark stopped, his glare lethal, a tic pulsating in his jaw.
Dane saw the flashing red lights out the window next to the front door.
The second boy’s eyes widened. “The police, Clark!”
Clark glanced behind him, but when he turned back, none of the insolence was gone. “So? This is no big deal. We’ll be free by this evening.”
Dane gritted his teeth and waited for Zach to arrive. He’d seen people like Clark before. They thought they were above the law. He would soon find out he wasn’t, but the damage they had done would still be here. The only satisfaction Dane had was that hopefully Clark’s terror in Sweetwater would come to an end. He was pretty sure he had been trying to get Eddy involved, using strong-arm tactics, and he had a strong feeling these teens had been behind the recent robbery spree.
Dane motioned to the two to move to the side so he could open the front door. For a few seconds Clark stood his ground, his glare drilling hatred into Dane, before the other tugged his cohort to the side. Dane let Zach and another officer into his house.
“We caught Joey fleeing from your backyard. My other officer has him in the car already. So what happened here?” Zach asked, removing his handcuffs.
Dane dropped his gun as Zach snapped the cuffs on Clark, then the other teen. “Breaking and entering. Destroying property. I will be pressing charges.” He motioned toward the living room.
Zach whistled. “They really did a number.”
“’Fraid so.”
“What do you boys have to say for yourself?”
“I want a lawyer,” Clark said.
“Read them their rights and take them down to the station. I’ll be along in a minute,” Zach said to the officer with him.
After they left, Dane relaxed his tensed body, pocketing the gun. “You know, I think they have been the ones robbing the houses.”
“Yep. I bet you’re right, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to prove that. I’m hoping we can get one of the teens to turn on the others.”
“Clark has to be the leader.”
“I agree. I’ll see what Joey and Adam have to say first. Let Clark sweat a little.” Zach started to leave but stopped. “One of my officers is retiring next month. We sure could use someone like you on the force if you ever decide to leave the DEA. I know it wouldn’t be the excitement you’re used to, but this job is fulfilling.”
Dane smiled. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”
As Zach left, Dane was surprised that he was tempted by the job offer. He’d never thought of himself as a police officer, but it could be an answer for him. Would the job fulfill him? Would it help erase the guilt that ate at him?
He sank down on the second stair, exhausted by the past half hour’s activity and the long day with Tom’s funeral. He’d seen firsthand today the sorrow a death wielded on a family. That was what had happened to his when they had thought he had died in the plane crash.
Burying his face in his hands, he tried to wipe the picture from his thoughts of Crystal sobbing at the grave-side, of Tanya trying to comfort her daughter and barely holding herself together. The sounds echoed through his mind. Zoey had gone through something similar because of him.
“What happened here?”
Dane jerked his head up and found Zoey with Tara in her arms standing in the doorway of the house. Blake and Mandy, eyes saucer-round, were next to her. He shoved to his feet and quickly covered the distance between him and his family.
“Three teens vandalized our home,” Dane said as he took Tara from Zoey and held her close to him, needing the feel of his youngest in his arms. So innocent—untouched by ugly realities in the world. But it wasn’t enough to solve his problems. He drew the rest of his family to him, holding them for a long moment, relishing the lavender scent of Zoey’s perfume, such a familiar smell that always managed to soothe.
Zoey pulled back. “Who would do this?”
While Blake walked toward the living room with Mandy right behind him, Dane said, “Clark Norton, Joey and Adam. I don’t know their last names. Blake, Mandy, be careful.”
/> His son stopped at the entrance, holding his sister back. “Everything’s smashed.”
“Daddy, our pictures are broken.”
With Tara still cuddled against him, Dane came up to Mandy and placed one hand on her shoulder. “We’ll get everything fixed, especially the pictures, princess.”
“Why’d they do this, Daddy?”
“A good question. I’m not sure. I think they weren’t happy I told the police about them speeding the other night.”
Mandy turned her big, brown eyes up at him. “Didya catch them?”
He nodded. “The police took them away. We’ll be safe, so don’t you worry.”
Blake balled his hands. “I bet it was Joey Miller. He’s always with Clark. I know his younger brother. I should—”
Dane passed Tara to Zoey, then clasped his son by the shoulders so he would look at him. “Joey’s brother had nothing to do with this. Retaliation of any sort isn’t what Christ taught us.”
“No, but—”
“There are no buts, son. Do I make myself clear?”
Blake dropped his gaze. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now I believe it’s nearing Mandy and Tara’s bedtime. Why don’t you help me clean up, Blake, while Mom puts the girls down?”
Blake’s expression brightened. “Sure.”
“I want to help,” Mandy said with a pout.
“You can tomorrow,” Zoey said, leading his daughters toward the stairs.
* * *
“Tomorrow’s a school day. You’d better go on to bed,” Dane said, righting another chair in the kitchen.
Blake tried to stifle a yawn, but he couldn’t quite. “I’ll help tomorrow when I get home from school, Dad.”
“Good night and thanks, son.”
As Blake darted from the room, Zoey entered, taking a look at the mess still covering the counters and floor. “They must have been in here a while to do this kind of damage.”
“I don’t think so. It doesn’t take long to rip, tear and shatter.”
“I’ve known Joey for several years and Adam, too. I don’t understand this.” She swept her arm across her body.
“I think Clark is very good at manipulating people. Peer pressure can be tough, but you know that.”
“How did you know about them?”
“Eddy called and told me to get home.”
Zoey went to the closet and withdrew the broom and dustpan. “He wasn’t involved, was he?”
“No, but I think he’s been watching our house. Guarding it, so to speak.”
She paused in her sweeping and looked at Dane. “So he knew something would happen?”
“Yes. I think he’s suspected they have been robbing the houses in town. He maybe even knew for sure but was too scared to say anything.”
“They did push him out of a moving truck.”
“He probably told them no, and I get the feeling Clark doesn’t like the word no.”
Zoey began sweeping up the flour and sugar with shards of glass and ceramic mixed in. “I need to thank Eddy when I see him.”
Dane took the dustpan and held it for her. “Just don’t let anyone know he called me. I don’t want them or their friends retaliating against him.”
“That took courage for Eddy to stand up to them.”
“Yeah. I want to help him deal with his dad’s drinking.”
“Do you think he’ll listen to you?”
Dane dumped the contents of the dustpan into the garbage can. “I hope so, since I speak from experience.”
Zoey nearly dropped the broom she was holding. “Your dad was an alcoholic?” She shifted her gaze to Dane who watched her.
“Yes. At the end he drank all the time.”
“Why haven’t you ever said anything about that?”
“There wasn’t any reason. You don’t drink. I don’t drink.”
This time she did release the broom, its crash against the floor loud in the sudden silence. She stepped toward Dane. “That had to have been important to you as you were growing up. Why wouldn’t you think I would want to know that?”
He tore his gaze away from hers and twisted around to start cleaning up the mess on the counter.
She reached around him and stopped his movements. “I told you about my father’s unexpected death from an accident at work. I told you about my struggle to understand it. I told you everything about me. The joys, the disappointments.”
Edging away, he turned toward her, his unreadable mask in place. “It’s the past. I like to leave the past in the past. What can I or, for that matter, you do about it now?”
“I can’t change the past, but I can support you. What happened in your past molds who you are today. It helps me understand you better. Don’t you understand it connects us when we share our feelings?”
“I felt helpless. I couldn’t change what was happening. I couldn’t help my dad. I—” Dane closed his eyes, pain carved into his expression. “I tried, but nothing I did changed his drinking.”
“He had to want to change.”
“I know that now. But the bottom line is that my brother and I weren’t enough reason for him to change.”
The anguish in his gaze pierced through her heart. “Addiction, in whatever form, is extremely hard to overcome. Some people aren’t strong enough to break the chains.”
“Eddy’s father may never, but I want to help him understand. I didn’t have anyone when I was going through it. I don’t want that to happen with Eddy. When the youth center gets going, this is something that can be dealt with there. Support groups for kids, dealing with different issues.”
“Then why don’t you head up the center?”
Horror flitted across his face. He backed away. “I can’t! All I know is how to be a DEA agent. Don’t make me into something I’m not.” Dane pivoted and strode toward the back door.
Zoey watched him leave. She had glimpsed some of the pain he’d endured as a child, but she sensed something else driving him besides his father’s drinking problem. He’d opened the door into his heart and given her a peek at who he truly was, then slammed it closed. It was a start. But would they have enough time to really connect before he went back to work for the DEA and fell into his old patterns?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“We stopped at Tanya’s on the way over here,” Beth said, stepping inside Zoey’s house with Samuel and their kids following.
“How’s she doing?” Zoey asked, taking the cake Beth had baked for dessert.
“Dealing. In a lot of ways she’d already said goodbye to Tom when he divorced her. It’s Crystal who’s having a hard time.”
“Craig and Allie, Mandy and Blake are out back with Dane.” Zoey led the way into the kitchen and waited until the two children went outside before saying, “I think she blames herself for her father being in prison.”
“I suspected that,” Samuel said, heading for the back door. “I’ve tried talking to her, but she just clams up.”
“I know how that can be. Blake did the same thing. Thankfully he finally spoke up with Dane.”
After her husband left, Beth said, “I’m finding more reasons every day for the center. Samuel says they’re going to start next week, gutting the inside of the building, making sure it’s sound.”
“I think this summer will be spent working on it. It’ll give us and the kids a project.”
“Samuel’s already organizing the other churches. Recruiting the youth groups to help. He wants the kids to feel they have a part in making this center happen.”
“That’s great.” Zoey pulled the platter of hamburger patties from the refrigerator. “We’re gonna eat out back. It’s a perfect Saturday night for a picnic. No rain in sight. Seventy-five degrees.”
“Can I help with anything?”
“Nope. I’ve got everything under control. The table’s already set on the deck. Let’s join the guys.” Zoey walked to the door, letting Pepper out back at the same time.
Outside she paused, taking
in the kids playing in the yard, the cat trotting up to Mandy and weaving in and out of her legs while her daughter giggled. Blake and Craig were dribbling and passing the soccer ball. Mandy, Allie and Tara were playing by the playhouse. Dane, laughing at something Samuel had said, was by the grill, getting it started. The scene before her made her throat constrict with emotions. If only this could be captured in a bottle to be released again and again. But next week Dane would leave for Dallas and everything could change after that trip.
“Are you all right?” Beth asked.
“Just relishing the moment.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. No one’s arguing. Everyone’s getting along.”
“Speaking of family, where’s Jane?”
“On a date.”
“How’s Samuel doing?”
“Trying not to think about it. She just started dating, and he paces the whole time she’s gone.”
“We have a few years until Mandy starts—thankfully. I think Dane will be worse.” Zoey started toward the men by the grill. “I haven’t seen Jane in my office much this year.”
“This was a very good year for her. I’m so proud of her.”
“Well, she’s got you at school.”
Beth smiled, her whole face lighting up. “That she does. It’s nice to be able to help her right away if there’s a problem with one of her classes. But I haven’t had to do much lately. She’s really throwing herself into her school work.”
“Good, now if I could only get Blake to see the value of doing homework.”
“You, too? Craig and I battle every night over that.”
“Battle over what?” Samuel asked.
“Homework. He told me the other night he thought he would be a rock star or a pro soccer player so he didn’t need to do homework.”
Dane took the platter from Zoey. “I think he and Blake have been talking. That’s what Blake has decided to be.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have asked their band to play at church?” Samuel shifted around to peer at the boys in the yard.
“No, ignoring their talents isn’t the answer. Hopefully something else will click into place as they go through high school. I’ve seen it with other kids.” Zoey leaned back against the railing. “Are they gonna play?”
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