by Pamela Tracy
“You can’t possibly know that.”
“It’s all in your face.”
“That’s not good. If you can read my expression, that means...”
“Well, it wouldn’t have been hard for your officers to read your expression the day you brought me in. You were all words. As for the Turners, both of them were preoccupied and paying no attention to you.”
“You were paying attention to me,” Tom said slowly.
“I was.”
“I like that.” Tom veered off a worn path about four inches wide. Dirt no longer showed but the grass was shorter.
She stopped beside him, studying the landscape, and then stepped in front of him. She walked to the Native American ruins just ahead and ran her hand across the broken rock wall.
“It’s a kiva?”
“It’s what’s left of a kiva, for religious rites, and over a thousand years old.”
Heather quickly removed her hand. “I shouldn’t be touching it.”
For the next ten minutes, Tom led her around, pointing out symmetrical patterns as well as talking about items that had been excavated. She nodded and followed right at his heels, so close that when he stopped, she walked right into him.
He righted her, his hands clasping her arms. She looked up, expectantly, and before he could stop himself, not that he wanted to, his lips were on hers.
He’d forgotten.
No, he’d never known.
Her lips were soft and warm under his, pliant and giving at the same time. He wanted her closer but that wasn’t possible. Her arms went up and around his neck. In the car, she’d smelled like strawberries. Right now, though, she smelled like strawberries mixed with the crisp October air and with maybe a hint of rain.
Yes, rain had a scent, and it made him more alive than he had felt in years, six to be exact.
The kiss ended way too soon, and Heather pushed out of his arms, looking at him with swollen lips and inquisitive eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, not sounding a bit apologetic.
“For what?”
“Er, for tripping.”
He grinned. “You should trip again, and again, and again.”
Her neck went red first and then her cheeks flamed. “This is probably not a good idea.”
“Why not? We’re both adults.”
“Yes, but you’re about to indict a woman who we’re fairly sure is one of my relatives. You also have to accept that when my parentage is discovered, a whole new can of worms will be opened.”
“I don’t care who you’re related to.”
“Easy to say right now when you’re not sure.”
He looked past her, at the tree limbs swaying in the wind, at the white wisps of clouds wafting by, and the blue sky stretching across the forest.
“When you’re a cop, every day offers a new surprise. Like you.” She hadn’t stepped that far away, so he reached out his hand and tilted her chin up with his pointer finger.
“Why am I a surprise?”
“Because, since the first time I set eyes on you, you’ve been leading me up one road and down another until we landed here.” He stepped back, sat on an old stump and motioned her to follow, happy when she did.
He put one arm around her and then pointed to the top of the distant Jemez Mountains. “One day, I’ll take you there by an old road no one knows about but us locals. There’s the remnants of a ghost town.”
“So, for you a hot date is either sitting on a stump at some old ruins or exploring a ghost town?” she queried.
He thought a moment, then answered, “It’s not the locale that makes a date hot, it’s who you’re with.”
She laughed, a sweet melodious sound that made him wish he could put his other arm around her and turn her to face him. But she still sat a bit stiffly, just enough so he knew she wasn’t quite comfortable with how fast he was moving.
He tried to decide what to say next, but she had questions of her own. “Who else have you brought here?”
“Everyone from my graduating class.”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m talking hot dates.”
He wished he could tell her she was the first, but he was a thirty-six-year-old male and there wasn’t that much to do in the town of Sarasota Falls. If he’d been bright enough, he would have used his date’s reaction to the ruins to gauge compatibility.
“Did you bring your ex-wife?” Heather asked.
Good thing he was in shape or he’d have spilled her off his knee. He’d been expecting her to ask about Maureen the waitress.
“The grapevine’s been keeping you up to date.”
“Well, when you started popping up in my life every day, the townsfolk wanted me to know your story. To be honest, I wanted to know.”
“I can understand that. Cathy Cardano was a year behind me in school, but she liked hanging around with upperclassmen. She had wild red hair and a laugh you could hear for miles.”
“She was your first.” Heather’s words weren’t a question but a statement.
“She was. And I loved her, I really did, still do, in a way.”
Heather nodded.
“I still love who she was, how we were together at the beginning.”
Heather nodded again, and Tom felt himself faltering. He was having a hard time explaining that he still loved his ex-wife but wasn’t in love with her.
Heather started to wriggle out of his grasp, and he tightened his grip. “Hear me out. Cathy and I didn’t divorce because either of us cheated, or even argued a lot...” He paused, took a deep breath and let it out. “We divorced because I didn’t put her first. I put the job first.”
“My dad always said that he was glad he’d gotten married after he exited the military because while he was in, he’d been married to the job,” Heather said.
Tom looked past her, at the clouds that were turning smoky gray, signaling an upcoming storm. They’d have to leave soon, but he wanted to make sure she understood.
“Every cop’s wife knows she has to share her husband with the town he serves, and Cathy was good with that until—until Max was killed, and I spent the next six months doing everything I could to find Rachel and Jeremy Salinas. When I failed at doing that, I filled the empty space in my life with work. I should have filled it with her, but I didn’t know any better.”
“You were what?” Heather asked, “Late twenties?”
“Early thirties.”
“How long after Max died did Cathy leave you?”
“A little over five months. I even know the date, July third. See, we’d gotten married in June. She’d wanted a June wedding, like a lot of brides. The year Max died, I’d forgotten our anniversary, see. She sent flowers to me, right to the police station. Boy, did I get teased. I remember thinking that day that I should do something big to make it up to her. Then, I took a call and forgot a second time. I took her to supper and a movie that weekend.”
“That’s nice.”
“No, it wasn’t special at all. Because I was gone so much, she went to a lot of movies with her girlfriends. I should have done something super.”
“Like bring her up here for a picnic?”
“No, remember she doesn’t like the outdoors all that much. I should have booked a room at some resort in Santa Fe. We could have sat by the pool and gone to a really nice place for supper. She’d have loved that. I chose supper and a movie here because I was afraid that something might happen in town while I was gone.”
“She knew how close you were to Max. She could have been a little patient.”
“She was a lot patient. I realize that now. About two months after Max died, our house got quiet. No more loud and laughing. She started taking online classes, in fashion and design to start with, which she followed with a course in c
osmetology.”
“Sounds like a very diverse personality.”
“Good way to put it. She was very happy when I was her cop. Being a police officer usually means you’re part of a family. We’d gone to Max’s for barbecues most weekends. Sometimes we’d go out to Leann’s family’s place. They live in a minimansion with an indoor pool. When Max died, though, I felt like I’d lost my family and didn’t want to do anything fun. It felt wrong without him.”
“It’s okay to grieve, and there’s no real time limit. Everyone’s different. My parents have been gone months now, and sometimes I feel guilty because maybe I haven’t grieved enough. I only took a week off work.”
“I didn’t take any time. If I had, maybe I’d have noticed her on the computer for hours. I came home from work one Friday night and found an advertisement on the kitchen counter for student teachers needed overseas. I almost threw it away. I thought it was junk mail.”
Heather settled back into his arms. Her hand touched his knee and she squeezed, not saying anything, just being there. For him.
“If I’d been around, paid attention, I’d have seen what she was doing. But I was so involved in work that my home was just a place to sleep. My wife was just a person I was living with.”
“So you found the advertisement... What happened next?”
“I called her cell phone, but she’d disconnected it. Come to find out, she’d purchased another phone and had another number for months.”
“She put some planning into this.”
“Yes, but she’d been giving me time, time to redeem myself. I didn’t.”
When he’d first started talking, he’d wanted Heather to know the truth. However, the more he talked, the more he realized just how bitter the truth was. He’d allowed the situation with Jeremy and Rachel to take away everything in his life that mattered.
Except his job.
Because he didn’t know how to let go.
He cleared his throat and continued, “It took only about five minutes to figure out her new number. She was gone for good, though.”
“Have you talked to her since?”
“I have. She’s been back to visit her family. She’s seeing somebody and is perfectly happy. I’m glad for her.”
“If Max hadn’t died, would the two of you be together still?”
Tom looked into Heather’s blue eyes, so deep, honest and now inquiring. Until the kiss, he’d always thought the answer was “yes.” But kissing Cathy hadn’t taken his breath away, hadn’t made him think he could sit on a stump forever with her on his lap and have her in his arms. No, Cathy had been bumper cars and cotton candy. Great fun to be with, but too easy to say goodbye to.
Tom didn’t think he’d like having a day go by without Heather in it.
“No,” he replied. “I don’t think we’d still be together. We both wanted different things, and in the end, our dreams pulled us apart.”
She’d asked a simple question...he’d given her a simple answer. But in truth, there was no simple to it.
Yet.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
HALLOWEEN BEGAN WITH a clear sky and no hint of rain. Tom wished the day would hurry and end. The weekend had featured many pre-Halloween parties, and now that the real holiday was here, he’d already put in nine hours. There was no chance he would get to see Heather. Halloween was not routine for cops. People partied, even if Halloween fell on a Monday night. Then some of them, unwisely, drove.
Every one of his officers was on duty.
“Hey,” Leann said, walking into his office, carrying a stack of papers. “You said you wanted to look through these for when you tackle the budget.”
Before he could respond, his landline rang. He motioned for Leann to set the papers on his desk, then he answered.
It was a good five minutes before he hung up.
“About two weeks. That’s how long it took.” It had been a solid fourteen days since he’d sent the DNA samples to the lab in Albuquerque. Not the longest a result had taken, not the shortest, either.
“Was that the...?”
Tom nodded. “The forensics lab.”
Leann didn’t move. Just stared at him, eyes full of compassion. “They’re full sisters?”
Tom nodded again. “It’s official even though we knew that, thanks to Father Joe. Kyle Ramsey is not Heather’s father, but it seems unlikely that Raymond Tillsbury is her dad, which we’d hoped.”
Leann uttered a word Tom seldom heard her say.
Tom shook his head. Both Father Joe and Renate had said Raymond wasn’t the father, but Tom hadn’t been able to get past that the man had showed up to town after Diane had. It would have made so much sense for him to have done that just so he could watch over Heather, or back then, Heidi. Then...
Funny how this was the second time Tom was so closely tied to a case that the outcome felt so personal. The last time had been Max; this time it was Heather.
Leann whistled. “You going to tell her? Or you want me to?”
“I’ll tell her,” Tom said, thinking that just a few minutes ago, he’d been annoyed because he’d not be seeing her. Now he wished for a different reason.
“I’m good here for another hour,” Leann offered.
“Thanks. I’ll be back soon.” At the door, Tom bypassed Oscar, who didn’t really know the Ramseys, and Lucas, who knew too much. Walking down the station’s steps, he stopped to let two witches and one pumpkin walk by. It was, after all, Halloween. The clear sky from the morning had segued into a soft gray, offering a perfect atmosphere for the evening. The town was buzzing with excitement.
Driving down the streets, Tom thought about those happy little kids, giggling and laughing. More than anything, Tom prayed that Heather’s story had a happy ending, too. Possibly here in Sarasota Falls...
Bianca’s Bed-and-Breakfast was fully decorated. Based on the noise coming out the open door, she was hosting a party. After he parked, he didn’t bother knocking. The door was open and someone was exiting.
“Tom,” Bianca called, when he made it just a few feet in. “I’d have invited you, but you always seem to be working.”
“I’m still working. Heather around?”
“No, she took off early this afternoon. The dental office closed early, and she said she wanted to go out to the house and look around.”
Tom closed his eyes. She’d mentioned doing this on their way back from talking to Renate and Father Joe. He’d known she was more than curious, not only about the place her parents had owned for over twenty years, but also about the woman who lived there.
He should have carved out time to go with her. Well, at least he had a good excuse for seeking her out. She’d be even more curious when he told her the DNA findings.
“Quite honestly,” Bianca said, “between you and me, she knew everyone was coming tonight, and she’s tired of people asking her so many questions. I don’t blame her. Wish I hadn’t asked so many.”
“At least you answered a few, too.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
He was stuck for a few minutes, chatting with Bianca’s guests, but he didn’t stay long.
Outside, twilight touched the air. Around him, some small goblins were holding hands with a parent or sibling and door-knocking. He hit the siren, a short blast, and earned a few smiles.
Oscar had been carrying candy around all week. For the first time in a long time, Tom wished he’d thought to do the same. And he remembered a time, long ago, when he’d imagined walking around with his own son, maybe dressed like a junior chief of police.
He called Leann, told her he’d take a little extra time and headed for the town limits, thinking that gray skies weren’t so bad. They were perfect for the type of night it was. Any other time he’d have been driving down this road,
he’d have been feeling the gloom.
But he was on his way to be with Heather.
The Turners’ place looked empty. They must be in town. Last year, Gloria had decorated her wheelchair so it looked like something a superhero would drive around town in. Albert had refused to dress like a sidekick—it probably was too much of a stretch for the older man.
There were no streetlights on the dirt road leading to Heather’s house, but even from a distance, he could see a light was on in the living room. Pulling into the driveway, he noted that she needed air in her car’s rear tire. Then he got out and headed up the walk.
The door opened before he could knock.
“I saw you coming down the road. I’m glad your SUV is so clearly cop-issue.”
“You a little spooked?”
“Just a little. It’s true, this is the middle of nowhere. And I’m wondering why I chose Halloween of all nights.”
He followed her into a living room with a comfortable couch, two armchairs, a coffee table and a television. A clock on the wall had stalled at nine o’clock. “Anything amiss?” he asked, sinking into the sofa’s cushions.
“Far as I can see,” Heather said, “the place is neat and clean—very clean, actually. Abigail’s room is full of well-loved toys and books. Rachel’s room is fairly empty.” She moved a Frozen video case off of the armchair next to the couch, and sat. She didn’t appear to be sinking and she looked fairly comfortable as she snagged the DVD off the side table and placed it safely back into its case.
“Anything that might lead to Jeremy Salinas?”
“You think she knows where he is?”
“She says no, but she might have a clue she’s not aware of.”
“She’s terrified of him and hiding in the most obvious place.”
“What?”
“Well, think about it. She’s hiding from him, and she came back here. She thinks this is the last place he’d come. Oh, and no way has she kept anything tying her to him. She wouldn’t want anything that tainted in the same house as Abigail.”