by Meg Muldoon
Trumbow wasn’t a bad man and his intentions were good. But when it came to his police work, I didn’t have as much faith. He had almost pegged me for the murder of Mason Barstow two and a half years ago. I’d probably still be rotting in jail now if Daniel hadn’t stepped in and solved the murder, figuring out who the real murderer was just in time. What was to say Trumbow wasn’t wrong again now? There was a reason Trumbow was demoted from being Sheriff. He was sloppy and arrogant, and when he made his mind up about something, he was like a dog that wouldn’t quit on a rawhide bone. He just couldn’t see things any other way.
I didn’t trust Erik. I didn’t think I ever would. He was probably just grasping at straws, looking for crime where there wasn’t any. Trying to get an edge on his fellow reporters and prove something to his editor. Trying to use me again to do it.
But at least he seemed to have an open mind about what actually took place that night by the horse trailers. He’d gone beyond the wrong place, wrong time explanation that Trumbow had settled on right away.
And if he was going to use me, then hell. Maybe I could use him too.
Erik reached into the passenger’s seat of his car, pulling out a Starbucks coffee cup. He slung his drab olive-colored messenger bag across his shoulder and then slammed the door. It squeaked loudly as it closed.
His car had seen better days.
He didn’t seem to notice me watching him.
I took a deep breath, got out, and quickly walked over. There was a brisk, early morning breeze blowing hard into my face. A whisper of the cooler weather that would hopefully come soon.
“Erik,” I said, approaching him before he made it to the front door of the building.
He nearly dropped his cup of coffee, grabbing it just before it slid beyond his reach.
He turned around, his eyebrows raised high in what was the most expression I’d ever seen on his face.
“Cinnamon,” he said, slightly out of breath. “I didn’t, uh, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Yeah, well, me neither,” I said, digging my hands into my jean pockets.
I sighed.
“Look, Erik,” I started. “I don’t trust you. I don’t like you much either after what you did to me. That was a real low thing to do.”
He didn’t say anything.
“But I’ve been thinking about what you said. And I think you’re wrong,” I continued, biting my lip and looking away into the distant morning haze. “I think you’re just trying to stir things up. But…”
I took another deep breath.
“But part of me keeps thinking, what if you’re right?”
“Look, I—”
“I’m not talking to you on the record about a thing,” I said. “That’s non-negotiable. But I will give you whatever help I can to look farther into this.”
I bit my lip harder. I looked away and then back at him, staring him dead in the eyes.
“I have to know,” I said. “I just… The thought of it not being an accident scares me half to death. But I have to know.”
He readjusted the messenger strap on his shoulder and had trouble meeting my stare.
“My editor told me he doesn’t want me wasting my time on this,” he said in a distant tone. “I mean, on the part I told you about. He doesn’t think there’s any more to it than Deputy Trumbow said. He just wants me to write about your husband’s recovery, and that’s it.”
I felt my cheeks flush.
I suddenly felt very stupid for coming all the way out here. Stupid for thinking Erik could help me. Stupid for thinking that any of this could possibly work out.
Stupid for giving him a second chance when he didn’t deserve one.
“Fine. But just so you kn—”
“But hell,” he said, looking up and interrupting me.
He adjusted his glasses.
“I owe it to you.”
A crooked smile that looked like it hadn’t seen the light of day in a long, long time crossed his face.
“My editor won’t like it,” he said. “But he can go to hell.”
Chapter 37
I was heading back to Daniel’s room, rounding the corner of the third floor hallway, when suddenly, I found myself stopping dead in my tracks.
Either it was my imagination, or a giant round of laughter had just erupted from Daniel’s room.
I glanced at my watch.
It was still before 8. It could have been some deputies from the station, but it seemed a little early for those boys. Besides, they had already stopped by the day bef—
I stepped into the doorjamb, my heart stopping for a second.
He was sitting in the corner chair, his back to me. His bald head was hidden beneath a plaid newsboy cap. His chest was reverberating as he let out a stiff chuckle.
I glanced over at Daniel. He was beaming brighter than a summer sun.
He noticed me standing there.
“Thank God you’re here, Cin,” Daniel said. “This old man’s been yakking my ear off since 5 a.m. I told him I was tired, but he just doesn’t seem to care.”
“What in heaven’s name are you…?” I blurted out, trailing off as the wind left my lungs.
The old man sitting in the chair turned around to look back at me.
He adjusted his cap and smiled that old devilish smile of his. The one I’d been missing all year.
“Geez, Cinny Bee. You’re looking worse than your hubby here,” he said, giving me a once over. “Is he the one who got trampled, or was it you?”
I might have been offended if I wasn’t so damn glad to see the old Scottish bastard.
I dropped my purse and the grocery bag I was carrying and lunged forward, embracing him. I hugged him like if I let go, he might just up and float away back to Scotland.
“You old dog, what are you doing here?!” I said, my voice trembling with excitement and happiness. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”
“Gosh dern, I sure am sorry about that,” he said. “You caught me when I was up in the sky somewhere over the Atlantic, I reckon.”
I pulled away, taking a long look at his weathered face.
He looked exactly the same as he had when he’d boarded that plane in January. Except he looked more youthful somehow. There was a kind of vitality glowing about him. One I hadn’t seen in years.
I didn’t know what was in the air in Scotland, but Warren was looking healthy and vibrant for his ripe old age.
I smiled, a few happy tears finding their way down my cheeks.
Good ol’ Warren.
“But… But you shouldn’t have made such a long trip, Grandpa,” I said. “I didn’t want you to leave in the middle of your Scottish adventure.”
“Some things in life are more important than beer,” he said. “Family’s one of the very few, my dear.”
He patted Daniel on the arm.
“When I heard about my son-in-law getting himself into a bit of a sticky wicket, well, I just felt the need to skip across the pond and see how he was holding up.”
I pulled out a Kleenex from my jean pocket and dabbed my eyes.
I hadn’t expected such happiness this morning.
“I just can’t believe you’re back,” I said to Warren again, shaking my head.
“You’ve got Kara to thank for that,” he said. “She called me right after it happened. I hopped on the first plane I could.”
I smiled through the tears.
Daniel and I were blessed indeed. Surrounded by friends and family who were there at the drop of a hat. Who traveled across oceans and thousands of miles of land just to be with us.
I let out a happy sigh and went over to the doorjamb, picking up my purse and the bag of groceries I’d bought earlier at Ray’s.
“I know it’s a little early,” I said, going over to the small sink area in the corner by the window. “But who wants a sandwich?”
I glanced back at my boys.
“I couldn’t pass up such an offer,” Warren said.
Daniel raised his eyebrows.
“You got real cheddar cheese?” he asked.
“Tillamook,” I said. “Extra-sharp.”
“Maple turkey?”
“Of course.”
“And pickles? You got the pickles?”
“Yes, Sheriff Brightman. I got the pickles.”
“No American cheese in sight?” he asked.
I looked back, grinning.
“What do you think?”
A pleased expression crossed his face.
“Then I’m all over it,” he said.
Chapter 38
There was something I had to get off of my chest.
So after lunch, while Warren was out in the hall getting coffee, I took the opportunity to ask Daniel about The Sandman.
His face turned noticeably pale as the name crossed my lips.
“Is that what I said?” he asked.
I nodded.
He knit his brow in concern for a moment, looking down at the bed sheet.
“What do you think you meant?” I said.
He raised his eyes to meet mine, and I saw hesitation in them.
I cleared my throat.
“When I asked you if you remembered anything from the accident, that’s the only thing you said you remembered. The Sandman.”
“That’s strange,” he said, rubbing the stubble on his chin. “I don’t recollect anything from it now. I don’t even remember saying that.”
I took in a big breath.
He still wasn’t willing to tell me what was on his mind.
“Daniel, I know something’s been wrong lately. Something you’re not telling me,” I said. “And I respect that you want to keep me from worrying, but if this has anything to do with the accident, don’t you think you better just say what’s been bothering you?”
He shook his head.
“Aw, it was probably just the pain meds talking,” he said. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
I reached out, grabbing his hand. He flinched, but I clamped on it tightly.
“I can’t stand you keeping something from me,” I said, looking dead into his eyes. “I can’t stand you wrestling with whatever you’ve been wrestling with alone. I’m your wife now, Daniel. And I’m here. You can tell me anything, and I’ll still be here. Right by your side, no matter what.”
He stared out the window then let out another short sigh. As if he knew this moment had been inevitable.
“I haven’t doubted that, Cin,” he said. “It’s just…”
He looked down and then up at me.
“It’s not pretty.”
“That’s okay,” I said, holding his hand even tighter. “I didn’t think it would be.”
Chapter 39
“I was just a kid when I joined the force in Fresno,” Daniel said, his words coming out slow and steady. “I signed up for the academy as fast as I could after my brother’s murder.”
He stared straight ahead at the wall, like he was looking back at himself all those years ago.
“I was green. No two ways about it. That, and I was selfish and stupid and full of anger over Jared’s death. I was like a time bomb, ticking away, waiting for the right moment to explode. I’m just lucky that moment never arrived.”
He sighed.
“I was at this real crossroads in my early 20s. Things might have turned out real bad if… if it hadn’t been for Tex.”
I furrowed my brow.
“Tex?”
Daniel hadn’t ever mentioned that name before. I’d heard stories about his days with the Fresno Police Department, but never anything about a Tex.
He looked at me. Those clouds were back again, casting shadows of worry and doubt on his face.
He sucked in some air before finally continuing.
“Tex was my first partner. His real name was Theodore Stevens, but we all called him Tex because he came from Fort Worth originally,” he said. “He was a real pain in the ass, and that’s putting it politely. He was five years from his pension when they assigned him as my partner, and let me tell you, Tex didn’t take any crap from me. It was like being assigned a drill sergeant as a partner. He was always looking over my shoulder, making sure I didn’t get myself into any trouble, making sure I was walking the straight and narrow. I’d get yellings like you wouldn’t believe if I so much as thought about crossing the line.”
I wondered again why Daniel had never mentioned him before. But I kept the wondering to myself.
I had a feeling that I’d know why by the end of the story.
Daniel shook his head.
“You know, trouble, out there on those streets, Cin…” he said. “It just has a way of finding you. No matter how you try to avoid it.”
Sometimes I forgot what a long ways Christmas River was from Daniel’s old life in Fresno.
“But after a couple of years working with Tex, I stopped hating him so much. I guess I was maturing, or Tex was having a good influence on me. And I saw that all that time he’d been hard on me, he’d just been doing it so I wouldn’t stray, you know? So I wouldn’t lose myself out on the streets, the way some cops did.”
He leaned back, lacing his fingers across his face. He let out a long-winded sigh.
“It was like that for a while. Sunday barbecues, after-work beers, department baseball games.”
He paused, looking back at me, like he was trying to figure out how to tell me the next part. He searched my face, as if he was afraid of what my reaction would be.
“Then Tex’s wife got sick,” he said, blurting it out quickly. “They diagnosed her with lymphoma. And he took it pretty hard. He took a long leave of absence for her chemo therapy treatments. She’d go through periods where it looked like she was improving, and then it would look bad again. A couple years passed like that, and it took its toll on him. His hair turned white in just a few months, and he walked around like a ghost. I mean, he was really messed up over it.
“So while Tex was on leave, me and this new partner by the name of Morton get assigned to this robbery case. This perp robbed three banks in the area, all in the same way. He comes in with this green shirt wrapped around his head with eye holes cut out of it, holds the clerk up, and gets them to get the bank manager. After stealing the money, he knocks the bank manager out cold. Witnesses said all it took was one hit from this guy, and the manager would be off in dreamland. They said after he knocked them out, the perp would look at the rest of them, put a finger up to his lip, and say ‘Shhh.’
“Around the department, we started calling this robber The Sandman.”
My breath caught a little in my throat, and I felt my stomach seize.
“Did you catch him?” I asked in a low voice.
Daniel nodded and a dark look came across his face.
“He robbed two more banks. We talked to witnesses and pieced together what we could of a description. I thought his choice of disguise was strange and had to mean something. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew it had to...”
He trailed off.
“One day…” he stopped, his voice getting a little shaky.
He swallowed hard and started up again.
“One day, Tex has me and a few guys over to his house for a Sunday barbecue. Molly’s there and she’s looking well. Tex said they’d gone to the doctor the week before and they’d told them the cancer was in remission. Tex said he was planning to return to work in the next month. So we’re all there, enjoying the day. I’m talking to Tex at the grill when he says, ‘Hey, Danny, get us some beers from the fridge, would ya?’ So I go into the garage where they keep the beers. And I pull them out. But I don’t have a bottle opener. So I start looking in drawers nearby, and I still can’t find one. I finally go for his toolbox that’s stashed in one of the cabinets, thinking I’ll use something in there. I pull it out, open up the box, and then…”
Daniel took in a deep and ragged breath.
“There’s something green sticking out from the bottom of the
tool box. And I just knew it before I even got a good look at it. I knew, Cin. It was the same green fabric the perp used to cover his head during the robberies. And when I looked at it closer, I noticed it was the kind of fabric they use in hospital scrubs.”
I could feel my eyes grow wide.
“It was him, Cin. Tex was the guy we’d been after the whole time. He was The Sandman.”
I shook my head in disbelief.
The story was like something you’d see on those true crime shows they played late at night. 48 Hours or Dateline. Bizarre stories that seemed like they couldn’t possibly happen.
But they did.
“I couldn’t believe it,” he continued. “I mean, this guy had been my mentor. I looked up to him. He was like…
Daniel’s eyes were growing glassy.
“He was more of a father to me than my own dad ever was.”
He rubbed his face, closing his eyes for a moment. Trying to stop the tears before they came out.
Except for the few times when he’d talked about his brother’s death, I’d never seen Daniel so emotional before.
It hurt to see him that way. But at the same time, I felt a deep sense of relief. Relief that he trusted me enough to tell me these things, even if it took a lot for them to come out.
He continued on.
“I was devastated,” he said. “I confronted him about it the next day at work. He didn’t even try to lie to me. He confessed to the whole thing. He said the hospital bills had been eating them alive and that the only way he could see them getting through it financially would be if they had some sort of windfall. I asked him why he didn’t just come to his friends for help. He said to me ‘Sometimes, a man’s just got to take care of his own.’”
Daniel stared hard into the wall. Silence took over the room for a few moments.
He took in another sharp breath, and started again.
“But I think there was more to it. You see, The Sandman wasn’t this meek, harmless robber. I watched the security footage. I could tell… he enjoyed robbing those banks. He liked doing what he did. He was getting a kick out of it.