“Isn’t some fancy PAC paying your way?” Marguerite asked.
Caroline shook her head. The money aspect of politics drove her crazy. Jen and Katie had coordinated all the details of their trip. “I have no idea. Let’s err on the side of no. Especially for the few days we’re here before the convention starts.”
Marguerite took her mother’s hand. “Are you nervous about your speech?”
“A little,” Caroline admitted. “But it’ll be fine.” She let her eyes drift down Lake Shore Drive. “It’s good to be home.”
“I liked shopping at Macy’s yesterday,” Sophie said. “It was way better than the Macy’s at home.”
“It’s Marshall Field’s,” Caroline corrected.
“It said Macy’s on the door.”
“Marshall Field’s,” she insisted.
Marguerite laughed. “Let mom have her memories, Soph.”
“Mommy doesn’t know how to read,” Sophie said.
“Mommy knows the truth,” Caroline said. “Someday you will too.”
Sophie laughed. “Whatever.”
There was no point in arguing. She’d have to take the girls back to State Street and show Sophie the name plaque on the side of the building. “Did you guys like the Museum of Science and Industry?”
“Those fetuses in jars were pretty impressive,” Marguerite said. “Was that your favorite part?”
Caroline laughed. “My best friend from college and I used to love going to that exhibit. Being there feels a little different now that I have the two of you.”
“When was the last time you did all this stuff?” Sophie asked.
“It’s been a while. Not since your father and I came here a long time ago. We should have visited more often. I know grandma and grandpa would have appreciated it.” She swallowed hard. “I miss this place an awful lot.”
They kept walking until Caroline spotted a tiny lighthouse in the distance and stopped. She took Sophie’s hand and put an arm around Marguerite.
“This is where daddy asked me to marry him,” she said softly.
Marguerite leaned in for a full hug. “Really?”
“He was going to propose in front of the fetuses but reconsidered after we drove past this beach on the way to the museum.”
Marguerite laughed. “Daddy was silly sometimes.”
Caroline pulled her closer. “He sure was.”
Sophie tugged on her mother’s hand. “I want a hug too, mommy.”
Caroline looked out toward the lighthouse, keeping her arms around both her daughters. “That day was perfect,” she whispered. “Absolutely perfect.”
“Tell us about it,” Marguerite said.
“We were staying with grandma and grandpa. Daddy thought it would be polite to ask them for my hand. Once he had that out of the way he knew he wanted to do it before we left Chicago.”
Marguerite laughed. “He asked grandma and grandpa for permission? Did he, like, even know you before he proposed?”
Caroline laughed too. “I know, I know. He thought it was the respectful thing to do.”
“He knew he was marrying a feminist, right?”
Caroline kissed the side of Marguerite’s head. “Yup. I breathed my fire and threw my man-hating germs all over him and he asked anyway.”
“I want to hear more,” Sophie said.
She’d tell them anything they wanted to hear. She loved this story. She wondered why she’d never told them before now. “We’d gone to the Shedd and the Field Museum the day before. He was planning on taking me to a Cubs game later in the week but didn’t want to wait until then. After we were done at the Museum of Science and Industry, he demanded that he be the one to drive back to my parents’ house. Only he pretended to be really hungry and insisted we take a break and sit on the beach and have a snack before hitting the highway. It was really late in the season so it wasn’t very crowded. So we sat on a blanket randomly chatting, and before I knew it he was offering me an orange in one hand and a ring in the other.” Caroline laughed again. “I actually was starving, so I took the orange first. I think he was a little offended by that.”
“But you said yes, right?” Sophie asked.
“Of course I did.”
Marguerite laughed. “Obviously, Soph. Think we’d be here otherwise?”
Caroline kissed Sophie’s forehead. Her girls had been so brave over the past year, even while she had struggled. It had only been a few months and the pain didn’t seem to be subsiding, but reminiscing helped cheer her up. “I’m glad I could share this with the two of you. I miss daddy. A lot.”
Marguerite wiped her eyes. “He’d be really proud of you, mom.”
“I know.” Caroline took a deep breath. “Are we going to go get pizza or what?”
Sophie squeezed her mother tighter. “Can we stay here for a few minutes? I want to watch the seagulls.”
Caroline smiled. “Sure. But then we’re going to eat.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chicago
“Are you okay?” Gabe’s question broke her out of her reverie.
Caroline swiped at her face, biting a trembling lip. She’d tried so hard to push away memories of her children and they returned as soon as she let her guard down. How careless of her to slip like that. “I’m sorry. Have I been out here long?”
He pulled her to her feet, brushing snow off the back of her coat. “A little while. We should get going. Are you sure you’re all right?”
She rubbed her hands together. Gabe was too trusting to know if she was lying and too gentle to push it if he thought she was. “Perfectly fine,” she said, the words sounding empty. “Let’s go.”
Gabe took her hand and they walked back to the parking lot. None of the other men said anything when she got back in the car. Caroline looked out at the beach one final time as Gig drove away, pressing her fingers to the window, the unlit blue lights along Lake Shore Drive blurring in her eyes. She had to give the guys credit. They had to have seen the tears on her face. None of them called attention to it save for the tissues that Gig slipped into her hand.
They rode the rest of the way to his apartment in silence. Caroline was reluctant to start a conversation since she was trying to get her emotions in check. But it helped, every block inland, every building, every stoplight, every street that took her away from that beach. She shouldn’t have told him to stop. The mood had shifted positively in the car while she’d been gone, and her reentry had brought it back down again.
Everything got worse once they stepped inside the third floor flat. Right after Gig pointed out their respective rooms, Jones took one look at the plaques and memorabilia on the walls and threw his bag to the floor.
“You’re a fucking cop?” he asked. “Gabe didn’t tell me that.”
“I was,” Gig said, tossing his keys on the kitchen table. “You got a problem with that?”
“You’re fucking right I got a problem with that. You still working?”
“No.” Gig sank into one of the chairs at the table. “I quit before shit got bad.”
Jones scowled. “Yeah, because shit was so good before that, right?”
“You don’t know a thing about me,” Gig said. “But I know about you.”
Jones whirled on Gabe. “You told this guy about me?”
Gabe looked a little shamefaced. “It came up in conversation.”
“Fuck you both, man.”
No wonder he’d been so cold to them all in the beginning. Had Gabe told Gig that they were a bunch of criminals? Seemed very unlike him to paint them all in such a negative light.
“Jonesie, calm down,” Caroline said.
“Why should I? This guy’s done more dirty shit than any of us have. I know Chicago cops.”
“You think you do?” Gig asked. “What if I told you I knew a lot of drug dealing thugs like you?”
Caroline put a hand on Jones’ shoulder to keep him from vaulting forward. “Let it go,” she whispered.
“Fuck th
at. He thinks because I’ve got a record that I’m useless.”
“I didn’t say that.” Gig was remaining remarkably calm. “I did say I knew your type.”
“I’m not a type,” Jones said. “I’m a fucking person.”
Good for him, sticking up for himself. But bad for him, adding drama to a situation that didn’t need it.
“Gig was just doing his job,” Caroline said, which was clearly the wrong thing to say.
“Oh yeah?” Jones glared at Gig. “How many black men you help put in prison? Ever plant any evidence? Talk up a shit case because you got a grudge?”
“I’m not going to bullshit you,” Gig said. “My first patrol was near the State Street Corridor. I saw a lot of stuff I’m never gonna talk about. But how many young black men do you think I saw die at the hands of another kid? Ask me that fucking question. Ask me why I left. Ask me anything you damn well want. Or just stand there and assume you know everything. That’d be easier, right?”
Gabe stepped between the two men. “We’re tired and we got off on the wrong foot. Let’s take a step back and relax for the rest of the day.”
Jones shrugged Caroline off. “Fine,” he said. “Just make sure piggy piggy leaves me the fuck alone.” He grabbed his bag and shoved past them toward one of the open bedrooms, slamming the door behind him.
Gabe sighed. “That went well.”
“It could have been worse.” Caroline turned to Gig. “Give him time.”
Gig frowned. He hadn’t smiled at her, not once. Not even when he’d treated her nicely. “I don’t give a shit,” he said. “As long as he stays away from me, we’re good.”
Oh, whatever. This guy needed to get over himself. He was older than any of the other men and he needed to fucking act like it. “Did it ever occur to you that you’re being every bit as judgmental as he is?” she asked.
Gig turned his chair around and didn’t say anything. Either she’d struck a nerve or he was a major asshole. She sincerely hoped it wasn’t the latter.
They couldn’t have unresolved tension. Not if they were all traveling together. Dissention led to disunity which could make them all act sloppy. Caroline headed toward Jones’ room, pushing her way inside without bothering to knock.
Jones was on the bed, rifling through his backpack. He didn’t look up. “Leave me alone, man. I know he’s your friend but I ain’t dealing with it.”
“It’s me,” Caroline said.
He tossed the backpack to the side. “Oh.”
She shut the door behind her and sat down next to him. “You have to go back out there. We can’t start like this. We have too far to go.”
“Never met a decent member of law enforcement,” Jones said.
Caroline smiled. “Ever meet a decent prosecutor?”
“Not the same thing.”
“Maybe you should hear him out,” she said. “I have a feeling you’ve got more common ground than you realize.”
“I doubt that,” he grumbled.
She put her hand on his shoulder again. “I’m not asking you to be friends. I’m saying you shouldn’t be enemies. He’s helping us out. He wants the same things we do. Try and trust him, just a little. All right?”
Jones crunched his hand into a fist. “I don’t like him.”
A fair assessment. She wasn’t sure she liked Gig either. “If it helps, I don’t think he particularly enjoys my company. You and I can form a support group.”
He smiled at her. “He’ll like you, Princess. Once he lightens the fuck up.”
Caroline stood up. “Come on. Go out there and play nice. For me.”
Jones grabbed for his backpack again. “I will. Just give me a minute.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “I like you, Jonesie. In case you needed to hear it.”
He raised his hand to give her a little fist bump. “I like you too.”
* * * * *
The apology went smoother than she expected. It ended up being joint, and Jones actually shook Gig’s hand. Gig looked surprised when Jones did it and didn’t say much after that. He accepted Crunch’s offer to play cards, an activity in which Caroline had zero interest. As the guys started playing a round of poker, she slipped out onto the balcony, wrapping her cardigan around her. The air felt good. Invigorating.
Caroline looked out over the other apartment buildings. Curious location for Gig to live. He didn’t strike her as a Northsider or as someone who would get into whatever scene remained for young hipsters. Wrigleyville seemed an odd fit for him.
She heard the door creak open and looked behind her. Gig held out a mug.
“Hot chocolate,” he said. “Cold out here.”
She took the mug from him. There were a ton of mini marshmallows in it. A man with a sweet tooth. “Thanks. I thought you were playing cards.”
“It was a quick round. I think that guy Crunch is a hustler.”
She’d done nothing but play board games with him so she wouldn’t know. “Probably. How do you know Gabe, anyway? He never said.”
Gig sat down in one of the wooden chairs on the balcony. “Met at a homicide training in D.C. a few years ago. One of those joint things for medical personnel and law enforcement. We got on okay, and stayed in touch. And here we are.”
Caroline took the chair next to him. “Quite a lucky break,” she said.
Gig gestured toward the living room. “Those guys listen to you,” he said.
“You noticed?”
“It was pretty easy to spot.”
“You don’t think they’re indulging me?”
Gig stared down at his mug. “Has Gabe been talking to you?”
She had evidently been a topic of discussion in the car. “A few years ago I got used to people indulging me.”
“Not anymore?”
“Now I’m grateful to get through the day. Fuck getting my way.”
Gig took another sip of cocoa. “You calmed Jones down.”
“He’s a pretty easygoing guy but when he gets in a mood, he stays there for a while. Gabe and Crunch weren’t going to touch that third rail.”
“You did. Right away.”
Caroline wasn’t about to mention her own issues with mood swings. “I had a lot of friends who were cops. I don’t think any of us should be judging each other.”
“They’re not indulging you,” Gig said bluntly. “There’s more to it. Who are you? Gabe couldn’t tell me on the phone and refused to tell me in the car.”
She shivered. “I’m nobody.”
“Bullshit. You gotta be somebody or they wouldn’t have brought you along.”
His words were heavy with implication. He was in the movement. He knew more than he was letting on. Caroline looked around the other balconies, wary of starting a conversation.
“No one’s out here,” he said. “I swept the interior of the apartment before you arrived. If anyone’s listening in, which I doubt, it’s not with any technology I’d recognize. Most of these units are empty now.”
“Why’s that?”
“People got out while they could.”
“Why are you still here?”
Gig grinned. “Waiting for Gabe and the rest of you.”
“How long have you been a part of this plan?”
“For a while,” he said. “Gabe came to me and mentioned a couple of things, and I knew he’d gotten involved in the movement. I’ve had to be careful. Living a double life is hard.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Caroline said.
“Who are you, really?” Gig asked.
He was part of the team. She couldn’t very well keep it from him forever. If Gabe trusted him, she trusted him too. “I’m surprised Gabe didn’t tell you. He told you about Jonesie.”
“He told me about Jones when the guy moved in with him. Once we started talking serious shit, he didn’t mention anything that might draw attention to us. All I knew was that there’d be two more along for the ride, and that one of you, well-”
That explained
it. Gig didn’t have to mention The Fed. He was heading in that direction and Caroline wanted to stay as far away from it as possible. “You don’t recognize me.”
“No,” he said. “Should I?”
She stared down at her cup. It didn’t matter that she saw a stranger in the mirror. She assumed that other people could tell immediately who she was. “It might be egotistical of me to think so, even though I look different than I used to. No one else seems to have figured it out yet.”
“You were what, a celebrity or something?”
Caroline chuckled softly. “In a manner of speaking, I guess.”
“Movies? TV? Something else?”
She shook her head. He was way off. “Definitely something else. I was in public service.”
“Federal employee?”
Not the answer he expected, she could tell. Even if she had been held prisoner by the government. “I was in Congress for a few years,” she said. “And then-” She stopped, trying not to think about it. “Then I gave it up to be someone else.”
“Why’d you quit Congress?” he asked.
“Got sick of the game. And I, uh, got hurt during my last term and it kind of messed with me a little.”
Gig frowned. “What happened?”
“I got in between a gun-toting madman and a group of summer day campers.”
He set his cup down on the deck, his eyes dawning with recognition. “You were from Maryland.”
“Yeah.”
“You married that guy from Pennsylvania.”
She closed her eyes. Why did he have to jump straight to that? “I did.”
“Shit,” he said. “That move at the Capitol took balls. I remember when that happened.”
Caroline never knew what to say when people complimented her like that. “Thanks, I guess.”
“You could have been killed. Staring down a gun takes a whole lot of something.”
“Yeah,” she murmured. “Something.”
He smiled at her. “Now I know why the guys listen to you.”
She suspected it wasn’t quite that simple. “I have no idea.”
Gig put his hand on her shoulder. “Everyone in the movement thinks you’re dead,” he said quietly. “The media’s tried to portray you and your husband as traitors.”
The Bellator Saga: The First Trilogy (Dissident, Conscience, and Sojourn) Page 85