Riverbend Road

by RaeAnne Thayne

  He drew in a harsh breath. “Your dad was shot in the head and died two years later. That’s what happened. Twenty-four freaking months of a long, lingering, horrible death without dignity or grace, when he couldn’t walk or feed himself or remember his own name. If I hadn’t shot that son of a bitch Joseph Barlow, he would be facing first-degree murder charges, two years after the fact. Your father was the best cop I knew—the best man I knew—and he didn’t deserve that.”

  To his dismay, his voice wobbled a little on the last words and he drew himself up, wanting to punch something. He was aware of Pete whimpering a little, coming to stand beside him, but mostly of the vast, searing ache in his chest.

  Wyn was leaving, like his mother, like John.

  How would he bear it?

  She stared at him for a long moment, those blue eyes that could always see too much narrowed with anger and confusion.

  “You’re protecting my father,” she finally said, her voice thick with shock, sadness and perhaps even resigned understanding.

  For the first time since she came to work at the department, he was sorry she was such a dogged investigator. She left him with no other choices.

  “Maybe I’m protecting myself,” he countered. “Maybe I shot the bastard. He was laying down his weapon but he’d already fired a shot. I was hopped up on adrenaline and thought he was palming it, ready to come up shooting, so I tried to wing him before he could and I missed. He shot your dad and I had no choice but to take him out.”

  He saw just a sliver of doubt in her eyes before she shook her head. “Nice try. I read the ballistics report. You fired only one round, the shot that killed him.”

  Tears welled in her eyes and she swallowed hard and dashed them away. “He was surrendering, wasn’t he? Barlow put his gun down and had his hands up and my father shot him before he could. I think I accepted that the moment I read Ronnie’s statement. I just didn’t want to.”

  He thought his heart couldn’t rip apart any more but the tear sliding down her cheek showed he was wrong. Why did she have to push and push and push? He had hoped she never had to know the truth about the man she had idealized—or the sins on his own head.

  “What happened, Cade? Please. I need to know. Did my dad shoot an unarmed man?”

  He raked a hand through his hair, wishing he could wrap her in his arms and tuck her cheek against his chest. “You know how things can be in the heat of the moment, Wyn. Maybe John saw the guy reaching for his gun again, I don’t know. I have to think maybe he saw something I didn’t.”

  She let out a shaky breath. “He fired on a suspect while the man had his hands up in the air and his weapon on the ground. How could he?”

  He couldn’t stand the appalled hurt, that sense of innocence lost in her voice. He had to tell her, no matter the consequences. “Don’t blame your dad. It wasn’t his fault.” He faced her squarely. “It was mine.”

  She stared at him, that tear still trickling down her cheek. He longed to wipe it away but knew she wouldn’t welcome anything from him now.

  “What are you talking about?” she whispered.

  Here it was, the real reason he had kept the truth from her. Marshall knew. He had asked him outright, after the shooting, and Cade hadn’t been able to lie to his best friend. Marshall hadn’t blamed him but he wasn’t sure Wynona would see things the same way.

  “Your dad wasn’t fit for duty. He hadn’t been for a couple of months before the shooting.”

  She stared, her eyes huge. “He...what?”

  “I should have reported him. I should have talked to the mayor, the city council, the sheriff at the time. Even your mom. But I didn’t. I tried to protect him and did my best to cover for him as much as I could. I tried to talk to him about it, to tell him he needed to see a doctor. He...wouldn’t listen.”

  He didn’t tell her of the growing rift between him and John the last few months, how the man he loved and respected like a father had started to make cruel comments, belittling Cade just like his own father had.

  He should have stepped up then, knowing that wasn’t the John Bailey he knew, but he hadn’t been able to see past his own hurt at the time. If he hadn’t been so self-absorbed about that part of things, he might have noticed earlier that John had started making serious procedural mistakes.

  Wyn’s features had paled and she grabbed hold of the table in her foyer as if she wasn’t sure her legs would support her.

  That stupid witness report. He thought again that he should have shredded the damn thing when he’d had the chance, then he wouldn’t be here having this horrible conversation with her.

  “What are you saying?” she asked.

  “It doesn’t matter now, Wyn. Please. Just let it go.”

  “Tell me! What do you think was going on? You think he was...impaired or something? How? He didn’t drink or take any medications, as far as I know.”

  She sounded like a lost, frightened girl, and he couldn’t fight back the need to touch her any longer. He reached out and took her hand in his. It was cold and her fingers trembled slightly.

  “I can’t prove any of it, especially now, years after the fact, but... I believe your dad might have been suffering from a physical or mental condition. Maybe the beginning stages of some kind of early-onset senility, like your grandmother.”

  She stared blankly. “Alzheimer’s?”

  “It’s a theory, anyway. The brain injury sort of covered any symptoms that might have shown themselves later. I only know John was...not himself for weeks before. He was suddenly mean-tempered and he would get confused at the simplest of tasks and then lash out at me or one of the other officers if we tried to help. I covered for him the best I could, started picking up the slack, while I tried to convince him to see someone.”

  “Alzheimer’s.”

  She sounded numb, her voice hollow.

  “I’m sorry. Now you see why I wanted you to let this drop. You didn’t need to know.”

  “Did my mother know? Anyone else in my family?”

  “I don’t know about Charlene. Marsh and I talked about it. He suspected something was wrong but couldn’t put a finger on what. Please don’t cry, Wyn.”

  Her tears ripped at his heart, because they were so very rare. He had seen her cry at Wyatt’s funeral and at John’s but otherwise she always seemed so strong.

  He thought of what courage and strength it must have taken her to be a witness in the trial of her rapist. He suddenly remembered another incident a few months after she came to work for the department, when an unrestrained baby had been killed in a car accident they both had responded to. She had dealt with the investigation in a brisk, no-nonsense way but had escaped to her patrol vehicle at the first opportunity.

  He hadn’t dared look then because he had known in his heart she would be weeping.

  He couldn’t look away now.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, finally pulling her into his arms. “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t his fault, it was mine. Don’t you see that? He wasn’t fit for duty and I should have reported him. I’ve regretted it every single day of these last two years. I should never have let my love and respect for him interfere with my duty. If I had acted, he could have gotten help, maybe. Delayed the onset of the symptoms a little. He might still be here.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? Did you think I wasn’t strong enough to take it?”

  “How could I ever think that? You’re the strongest person I know, Wyn.” She had testified in a rape trial, had survived losing her twin, had watched the father she loved spend two agonizing years in a nursing home.

  “Then why try to protect me from the truth?”

  “It wasn’t about protecting you. I told myself it was but I was really protecting myself. I didn’t want you to blame me.”

  He regretted the word
s as soon as he said them, afraid they revealed far too much about what was in his heart. Her gaze lifted to his and the moment seemed to stretch and thin between them. He did his best to keep his feelings for her locked away but he wasn’t sure he was completely successful.

  She let out a shuddering little breath. “You weren’t responsible for what happened that night, Cade. You can’t think that. Joseph Barlow was the one who robbed the liquor store then shot at the pursuing officers. If he hadn’t, none of this would have happened. You loved my father and tried to do everything you could to protect him. I know that.”

  Her words soaked through him, sweet and cleansing, and he felt as if a weight the size of the Redemptions had been lifted from his shoulders.

  “Thank you for telling me. I know it was...painful,” she murmured. She stood on tiptoe and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

  He wanted to hold her tight, to dry every tear, kiss away every pain, but he knew he didn’t have that right.

  She was leaving. The reminder sliced through him.

  “I don’t want you to go, Wyn,” he said, his voice low, when she stepped away. “You’re my best officer. You’re vital to my department.”

  “I don’t want to be vital to the department,” she answered solemnly. “I only want to be vital to you. I’m in love with you, Cade. Don’t you get it?”

  Her words quivered between them, vibrating like a plucked bowstring, and he felt as if the arrow had lodged right in his chest.

  She couldn’t be. It was impossible. Emotions seemed to tangle his thoughts and his words—joy, terror, happiness, despair.

  Before he could sift through them all to come up with an answer, he heard women’s voices then laughter outside, just before the doorbell rang.

  Some instinct for self-preservation had him stepping away just an instant before her sister, Katrina, came through the door without waiting for Wyn to answer, followed closely by Sam Fremont.

  Katrina stopped the moment she spotted them and her expression tightened with the same suspicion from that day at her mother’s house.

  Sam snickered. “Ooh, you didn’t tell us you were hiring a male stripper for the bridal shower. Smart move, Wynnie. The hot-cop thing always works for me.” She held her arms out in front of her, palms up. “You’d better arrest me, Officer. I’ve been so bad.”

  Katrina smiled at her friend, but Cade noticed it didn’t quite hit her eyes. Her gaze continued to shift between them and he was quite certain she noticed the tear tracks on Wyn’s face.

  Despite them, Wyn looked lovely, her eyes huge and dewy, her color rosy, soft. He wanted to drag her away from the other two women and have this out, once and for all, to tell her all the hundreds of reasons she couldn’t be in love with him.

  He couldn’t do that now, with her sister and Sam watching both of them with such avid interest. Wynona was supposed to be hosting a party in a few hours, a celebration for her dear friend, and he had selfishly burst in here without thinking and dragged them both through an emotional bloodbath.

  “I should...go.” Despite his two tours of duty and the years he had put his life on the line as a police officer, apparently he was nothing but a lousy coward, at least when it came to Wynona Bailey.

  “Cade,” she began, her voice small and uncertain. She hadn’t met his gaze since her sister walked in.

  “We’ll talk later,” he promised. “Maybe after your guests leave.”

  She swallowed and nodded. Pete padded after him to the door and Cade stopped to pat the dog one last time before he slipped out.

  As he walked to his car, her simple yet earthshaking words seemed to echo through his head. I’m in love with you, Cade. Don’t you get it?

  He wanted, more than anything, to tell her he felt the same. She had told him she didn’t want to be vital to the department, only to him. He wanted to tell her she was more vital than oxygen or water or food, that he needed her desperately.

  He just wasn’t sure if he had her kind of courage.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  WELL. THAT WAS FUN.

  Wyn felt battered and achy, as if she’d just survived a long run through Class 5 rapids on the Hell’s Fury.

  I don’t want to be vital to the department. I only want to be vital to you. I’m in love with you.

  Had she really dared to say those words to him? She wanted to cringe, to grab a kayak, jump into the river and just keep floating to the ocean.

  Why on earth had she blurted them out like that? One moment, they had been talking about her father and his behavior before the shooting, and then next she was flapping her stupid lips about things that never should have been spoken.

  He had just been so tender with her, holding her with sweet gentleness while she grieved all over again for the father she had loved. She had wanted to stay in his arms, safe and warm, forever.

  And then she ruined everything.

  She had completely stunned him. His eyes had widened with shock and he had stared at her as if he didn’t quite believe what he’d just heard—though for a moment there, she thought she’d seen something else, something hot and blazing and filled with joy. She wasn’t sure if she had imagined it, though, because Sam and Kat had burst in right after that.

  What had she done?

  She was going to have to work with him for at least another month, unless she took all the vacation she had accrued. How could she even face him again for five seconds, forget about day after day of having to talk to him about arrests and cases and paperwork?

  The words were out there and she couldn’t take them back.

  We’ll talk later. Maybe after your guests leave, he had said.

  Great. She only needed to throw a party for three dozen women, and then she had that to look forward to.

  “What did Cade want?” Katrina asked. Her sister hadn’t stopped frowning since she walked in.

  “Police business,” she answered shortly. It wasn’t really a lie. Everything between them seemed to come down to the job.

  “He seemed upset,” Kat pressed. “You do too. Were you having a fight?”

  A fight? No. If he was upset, it was probably because she had just bared her soul to him.

  Not initially, she reminded herself. He had stopped in the first place after learning her plans to return to Boise State. She had been wrong to keep her intentions a secret, from Cade or from her family.

  “He just found out I’m moving back to Boise to finish up my degree,” Wyn said. “He’s a little annoyed with me for leaving him shorthanded.”

  It took Kat about five seconds to process the news. “What?! You’re moving to Boise? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I just did,” she pointed out.

  “Does Mom know?”

  That was another bridge she would have to cross. “Not yet. Please don’t say anything until I have a chance to let her know.”

  “What will you do after school?” her sister asked.

  “I don’t know yet. Not police work.”

  Kat nodded as if it didn’t surprise her. To her gratification, her sister hugged her. “You’ll figure it out and it will be the perfect thing for you.”

  Katrina’s faith in her almost made her cry all over again.

  “I’ll miss you tons,” her sister murmured.

  “I’ll miss you too. But I’m not going anywhere for a month and it’s only until next spring. Besides, Boise’s not that far away and I’ll be back and forth for a while. I might even be able to find a job somewhere around Lake Haven after I’m done.”

  “What about your house?” Kat asked. “Are you going to sell it?”

  She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She loved this house and had been so excited to buy it from her grandmother’s estate after she moved back to Haven Point.

>   “I don’t know yet. I’m sure I can rent it out until I figure that out. It’s not something I have to figure out right now. Classes don’t start until August so I’ve got time to look at all my options. Meanwhile, we’ve got a shower to throw, right?”

  Katrina smiled and hugged her again, though she had a feeling her sister wasn’t quite convinced that was the only reason for Wyn to be upset.

  * * *

  WYN DID HER best to ignore Katrina’s worried looks throughout the evening as she set out food and organized games and helped McKenzie keep track of her gifts.

  It was harder to ignore the echo of her own words and the cold dread in her gut that she had ruined everything.

  I’m in love with you.

  She was so stupid and right now she would give anything to go back in time and swallow those words.

  She would have time to fall apart later. For now, her focus needed to be on making sure everything was perfect for her dear friend.

  Finally, the last gift had been unwrapped, the last wine bottle opened, the last bawdy innuendo from the Brewer sisters delivered—wink and all—and the party started to break up.

  McKenzie hugged all of her friends on their way out but saved her biggest hug for Wynona. “Thank you so much for everything. This was the best shower ever.”

  “You are welcome, Kenz. You and Ben are going to be so happy.”

  “We all left a mess,” Devin said, surveying the patio. “We’ll stay and help you clean up.”

  “You will not,” Andie Montgomery said sternly. “Neither one of you is lifting a finger. I’m staying to help clean up. I already told Katrina and Sam to take off.”

  “We’re happy to,” Devin protested. “I’m the maid of honor. I was supposed to be throwing the shower anyway. I owe you for taking over. If it had been left to me, we might have ended up having it at the hospital cafeteria.”

  “You helped tons with the food and the party planning,” Wyn said. “Somebody needs to drive Kenz and her gifts home. That’s you. Anyway, you have enough to do, planning your own wedding.”