Point of Attraction

by Margaret Van Der Wolf

  “But... if only I’d known or seen...”

  “Georgie Girl, you’re not taking the blame here.” Nick’s tone was flat and firm. “None of this is your fault. You understand? None of it. A wacko chooses his own highway. You just happen to be a road sign that caught his attention.”

  “I guess,” Georgie heard herself say, then asked Mason, “Do you think I could at least see the note he wrote? I mean, he wrote me enough checks.”

  Mason pursed his lips and handed the question over to Officer Roberts.

  “It’ll go to handwriting analysis first,” Roberts said. “They’ll catch anything not right.” He turned to Tonie. “I’ll see you out in the car.”

  Georgie watched as Tonie nodded then cast a glance to Mason and Nick without expression. She offered Georgie a soft smile before going out the door to the garage. It was a struggle for Georgie to find a smile in response.

  When the door clicked shut behind Tonie, Roberts turned to Mason. “When do you hear from the Review Board?” Roberts asked Mason.

  “I’m hoping Monday.” Mason rose to his feet, answering some silent summons from Roberts.

  Officer Roberts nodded. As they both moved toward the door, Georgie noticed a strain on Roberts’ face, his lips pressing, holding back what words wanted to come out, yet his seasoned years on the force setting the protocol of professional courtesy. “Okay,” was all Georgie heard from Roberts.

  Mason leaned into the man and whispered, “She’s a rookie. Too vocal, at times, I know, but...”

  Roberts offered Georgie a quick glance before leaning into Mason. “She nearly missed this call tonight,” he said, through clenched teeth. “Came on duty late, already worked up about something. She’s a hair from going over the edge.”

  “She’ll get it together.” Mason’s voice was low with a gentle plea for Roberts to have some empathy here.

  “Sure she will,” Georgie heard Nick murmur beside her, as the other two men went out the door.

  They were clearly all talking about Tonie, Georgie thought. She gathered Tonie was having a problem fitting in. She looked to Nick and he shrugged, his mouth pulling to the side as he shook his head.

  “I’ve seen too many like her,” he said, “Can’t handle the stress and burn out. Their ashes scatter to the winds.”

  “Is it that bad in sales at Cantell Electronics too?”

  “What? Oh. Sure. It’s that way anywhere for a woman like Clark.”

  “Like Clark. What’s that suppose to mean?” she asked.

  “You know.”

  “Enlighten me.” She let sarcasm lay heavy on each word while her glare acted as back up.

  “Oh crap. You know what I’m talking about. So don’t go all feminist on me, okay? Some women who finally make the cut push too hard, too quick. They don’t wade in. They jump in headfirst and hit rocks.” He offered a quick tilt to his head, raised eyebrows and pursed lips. “Makes it hard for those around them... including other women. It’s not a pretty sight when they crash and burn.”

  “You are such a hard ass,” she told him, feeling deep sympathy for Tonie and her brethren. Even the term implied males. Sisterhood. Loses in translation somehow, she thought, her heart saddening.

  “Hey,” Nick defended. “I didn’t create them. Did you come out of Beauty School and get your own shop right away? No. You took your knocks and learned, got the crust, the know-how. Some women don’t do that. The occupation doesn’t matter. April climbed her ladder easy-like, one rung at a time, right up to the A-plus top.”

  “Okay,” Georgie said. “Spare me. I get it.”

  “You’d better.” He leaned over, kissed the corner of her forehead. “Cause, Georgie Girl, one bad move on Tonie’s part, out on a call, could cost you Dudley Do-Right. Remember that.”

  Georgie’s mouth dropped opened, his words striking a blow to a place she thought could no longer feel pain. Without further comment, he got up, tapped his finger to the tip of her nose, and went out to join Mason and Roberts.

  Chapter nineteen

  Georgie drank the last of her tequila and orange juice, stared blankly at the bottom of the glass before getting up to put it in the sink, but the room swayed, her legs wobbly.

  “Oh, is your head going to smart tomorrow,” she told herself, then remembered, one round to the right temple. She set down the glass and rushed to the bathroom. All the evening’s events and visions came gushing out, over and over, until she felt as empty as her life was each time she lost someone close to her. Jeffrey wasn’t close to her, but he was a participant in her existence, and now he was gone.

  Cold water on her face helped clear the cobwebs. After a mouthwash rinsing, she dabbed a towel to dry the moisture, then stared into the mirror. Odd, she didn’t look any different. There were no added lines of trauma or shadowed eyes.

  One round to the right temple, she thought. Slowly, she placed a finger-gun to her right temple. She jolted at the one sharp tap on the door.

  “George? You okay?”

  “Yes,” she told Mason, looked once more into the mirror, and sighed. “I’m fine.” Whatever thought had tried to take root, was gone... just like Jeffrey.

  She opened the door to find Mason had already returned to the kitchen. Fatigue was overtaking her, making each step more difficult. What time was it? What did it matter? The clock still tic-ticked and moved on. How cruel, she thought, and entered the kitchen.

  “So you’ll be here?” Mason was asking Nick.

  “Yeah. I talked to my supervisor and told him point blank I wasn’t going anywhere for a while.”

  “You must have some major seniority clout.”

  Nick’s laugh was heavy with cynicism. “Trust me. They aren’t getting anyone else to go to the cesspools I go.” With his most hammish theatrical pose, he declared, “It would take nothing less than a red-phone call from the President himself for me to leave my Georgie Girl right now. And I sure don’t see any red phones here.”

  Georgie grasped Nick’s shoulder and smiled. “Good to know I’m more important to you than a malfunctioning computer chip.”

  “Or the sale of a malfunctioning chip,” Nick added with a light tap to her grip and a nod, then yawned and rose. “Well, I’m going to bed. Georgie Girl, where’s that blanket you gave me last night?”

  “Linen closet, but for goodness sake, Nick, why not take the spare bedroom? It’s made, clean sheets, plus it has an electric blanket.”

  “Nope. Comfy bed is too much like an anchor.” He overacted the body shudder as he entered the hallway. “The couch is perfect.”

  “Lord save some poor woman from that non-committing man,” Georgie said, making sure Nick could hear.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Nick mumbled down the hallway.

  After a moment, Mason rustled in his chair. “I should be on my way too. I’ll find out what they determine about Jeffrey and let you know. It’s Roberts’ case. I’m sure he’ll keep me in the loop.” He rose and tipped her chin with his finger. “Get your coat. I don’t want to lose my way going to the car.”

  “Can’t have you lost out here in the wild,” Georgie said with a smile, while slipping into her coat.

  His cell phone went off as they walked through the garage. Once more she tried to step away to give him privacy, but his arm about her shoulders refused to let her. He pulled her even closer and her heart raced. She swallowed and took the leap into the start of becoming a couple... letting her arms slip around him while she pressed her cheek to his chest.

  “Yeah, I’m still here. Why?” Mason said into the phone.

  A chill passed over Georgie when she heard the distinct tones of Tonie’s voice at the other end. Had they been a thing at one time? Georgie wanted to ask, but bit her lip instead. Had Tonie even been partnered with him long enough for the attachment? Mason called her a rookie. How long is one a rookie before the label goes away?

  “I hope to hear from the Board on Monday,” he said into the phone, and Georgie realized, once th
e Review Board cleared him of any wrong doing in the hostage situation shooting he would once more be with Tonie day in, day out.

  He stopped walking and Georgie thought he was going to move away from her, but he didn’t. Instead, she felt him tense up, his body hard.

  “Roberts is a damn good man, Tonie.”

  He pressed Georgie’s head to him, his hand warm as he caressed her, and Georgie allowed herself to tighten her hold in answer.

  “I told you when you first started. Learn to keep your thoughts and emotions to yourself and your department Shrink.” He sucked in a sharp breath, frustration clearly present. “No, I don’t think you need the Shrink, and no, I’m not turning on you.” He jerked his hand over to look at his watch. “You still have three hours left on your shift. If you’re on the phone with me, you’re not keeping an eye on your partner’s back. Do your job.”

  The long silence ended when Mason flip-shut his phone and placed it back in its belt holder. Georgie sensed his inner battle to hold intact his temper and thoughts with both the moment and the conversation. In a strange way, she felt bad for Tonie.

  “Roberts might be a good man,” Georgie said, “but he’s not you. You’re her partner.”

  “No!” It was said so sharply, it startled Georgie. He took a deep breath, drawing in his outburst, but his tone remained firm. “Her partner right now, this moment, is Roberts, not me. We aren’t husband and wife, 24/7. We’re partners on a job, 9 to 5, so to speak. Right now, Roberts is that partner.”

  “Would you feel this way if Roberts were your partner? Or is it because Tonie’s a woman?”

  “Oh, do not even go there, Miss Independence” he said, his mood lighter as he gave her a light reproachful shrug. “I treat her no different than I was treated as a rookie, including Roberts when we were partners.”

  “You and Roberts were partners?”

  “Two years. Actually, I was his rookie, then went on to get my own rookie partner and many more after that. So Tonie...”

  “You were Roberts’ rookie?” She couldn’t keep the disbelief out of her voice. Until this minute, she hadn’t considered Mason’s age. She looked up at him. How old, or more to the point, how young was he?

  “George,” he said, his voice soft with warning. “Age has nothing to do with us. So let it go now before it becomes an issue. Can you do that?”

  “Do you even know if there’s an age difference?”

  “Nope. Don’t care. I’m where I want to be. I’m good with that. I want you to be good with it too.” He guided them on toward his car and stopped. He seemed to think on something then continued walking, but at a slower pace. “I would like to ask you one thing,” he said when they reached his 4Runner, then turned to face her.

  “Sure.”

  “It’s personal.”

  “My life is pretty much an open book right now, don’t you think?” she said.

  “If it’s too personal, just tell me, okay?” But he didn’t wait for an answer and asked. “How did your husband die?”

  “Car accident. Black ice,” she started out, and Georgie found the account less painful to tell. But when she finished, she had to catch her breath, the run of the account still a mile long for her, and she was tired, wanted to cry, could feel the tears sting, but wouldn’t let them flow.

  For the longest time, Mason remained silent, a finger pushing aside stray hairs blowing across her forehead.

  After a deep breath he said, “My wife, Jenny, was back east visiting her parents. They uh... live in Boston, ‘bout a mile from my parents. She was on her way home and boarded the plane on the morning of 9/11.”

  Georgie could find no words. She remembered hugging Sam that morning four years ago as they watched the news reports. A cry of pain became a lump in her throat, and she swallowed.

  “When I got home,” he went on, in a voice so low Georgie, could barely hear him. “There was a message on our answering machine from her cell phone on the plane. I saved it for the longest time. I played it over and over just to hear her voice. I couldn’t do anything for her, not even find the persons responsible. Here I am a cop. To serve and protect... and I couldn’t protect the one closest to me.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, but it sounded so inadequate, she wished she could take it back.

  “The worse part is, I never got the chance to say...”

  “Good-bye,” she finished for him. “I know.”

  “Yeah.” It came out a half whisper. He started the engine, turned on the heater to defrost his windshield then got back out. He pulled her to him, opening up his jacket to draw her in to share his warmth.

  “I never thought to ask,” she said. “Do you have children?”

  “No. Jenny couldn’t have any, and having her was enough for me.” He sucked in air. “And then I didn’t have her anymore.”

  “Don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t had those two of mine when I lost Sam.”

  “They’re great, those two,” he said, and smiled down at her when she let out a short cough. “Yes,” he added, “even Paula. Talk about a mother hen. Whew!”

  They laughed. She had forgotten how she enjoyed sharing something funny with someone... as she had with Sam. There was a moment of stabbing guilt, that she could find such simple pleasure with another man. Was Mason thinking of Jenny?

  She shoved the troublesome thought back, and leaned into him to let his strong body support her.

  “Mason,” she said, feeling very comfortable with the moment, “You know I was serious when I told Roberts that something is off about this whole thing with Jeffrey. Don’t laugh, but I’ve watched enough TV and Discovery Crime Detective to question this whole thing.”

  “Ah,” he murmured, “Serious stuff.”

  “Stop.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Continue.”

  “Would someone that has a phobia about blood shoot himself?”

  She held up her finger to show him her healing cut. “I thought Jeffrey was going to faint when I cut my finger while doing his hair Thursday morning.”

  “My first thought would be no.” His large hand pressed her to him, his chin resting on the top of her head. “But I’ve seen some crazy people do what isn’t what we term normal. Look at that jerk I shot. Who would have thought a man would do that to his own son, thinking this would bring his wife back. The world is a crazy place sometimes, you know?”

  “I suppose,” she half whispered, thinking to let it go... yet unable to. “I just can’t get Jeffrey out of my mind. Did you... actually see him?”

  “Yes,” he said in a very sad voice, then let out the sound of a heart heavy with the world he came across every working day. “It’s said, crazy is the mirror image of sanity sometimes.”

  “I think it’s coin and genius,” she laughed.

  “What?”

  “Coin and genius. Insanity is the other side of the coin to genius, but mirror image is good.” She snuggled closer and he slid his hand down her spine and back up.

  “Well, I better get inside,” she said, but he tightened his hold.

  She looked up into his eyes and his lips came down. The warmth of him was compelling, intoxicating, and Georgie wanted more. She wanted to know, explore, just how badly he wanted her to stay out here with him... or in his car.

  No, she thought. This could take her to a place from which she might not want to return. She was about to leave the warm shelter of his arms when that ill fitting puzzle piece came back.

  “You know what’s been bothering me about all this?”

  “Talk about a mood breaker,” he laughed, then cleared his throat with a soft breath mixed with a sigh as he tightened his hold. “Okay, Holmes. I’ll bite. What is it?”

  “Promise you won’t laugh.”

  His chin nudged her head for her to continue.

  “You said he took one round to the right temple.”

  His chest heaved and lowered while his heart upped its beat beneath her ear. “Yes.”
r />   “Why would a left handed man, who’s afraid of blood, shoot himself, let alone in the right temple? Isn’t that hard to do?”

  She held her left hand to her right temple in a finger gun. “Feels very awkward.”

  “He was left handed?” he asked, taking hold of her finger gun, and pressed it to his lips.

  “I watched him write out a check once a month. I am very sure he’s left handed.”

  “George,” he started to say, but his cell phone went off. “Dammit! If it’s Tonie again, I swear... Montgomery here.”

  He listened for a moment. It wasn’t Tonie, but a man’s voice.

  “Yes, I am. Why?” Mason asked.

  Even in the shadowed night, Georgie saw Mason’s features change; his eyes darting about the area, and the circle of his arms suddenly became more protective than caressing. It was as though he were trying to place her inside him, give her that protection he was unable to give Jenny.

  “Right,” he said. “We were just discussing that same question. So what are we looking at?”

  When she heard his heart begin hammering violently in his chest, Georgie’s concern rose, but she didn’t move.

  “That’s not what I wanted to hear,” he said, his voice low, intense. “Thanks for the heads-up.” He flip-shut the phone and urged her to move. “George, back in the house. We need to talk to Nick.”

  Chapter twenty

  As Mason told Nick about the phone call, Georgie shivered, her skin covered in a mass of icicle jabs.

  “Aw dammit!” Nick burst out. “Not a suicide. Are they sure? Of course they are, otherwise why call you.”

  “Roberts said CST was very quick with their first assessment,” Mason said, taking Georgie’s hand. “Though the note does appear to be in his handwriting, they’re sure the whole thing was staged. They’re waiting for further info to come back before making it formal. Roberts just wanted me to know, for obvious reasons, what their first thoughts were.”

  Georgie slipped free of Mason’s hold and went to the kitchen window to look out. Her back yard was now an alien world. This was a “B” movie, she thought, and it would seem the main character had just done the very cliché snubbing of her nose at the villain being killed off, and now the villain was bolting back from the dead.