Second Chance Sweethearts (Love Inspired)

by Kristen Ethridge

  And then where would he be?

  He’d lose his job and more important, his chance with Gloria. They’d made so much progress but it was still fragile. He knew they were on the path to being strong, but for right now, even the merest hint of him being back to his old ways would send Gloria back into her shell.

  That much he knew for sure.

  And it scared him to the core.

  Rigo knew the different faces of fear. They’d been well acquainted over the years. He’d been full of false bravado when he’d called and left Gloria that message from Mexico. He’d been numb with shock as he watched Felipe fall to the ground after the gunshot. But today he knew acutely what was at stake, and his awareness wasn’t dulled by drink or swept up in the middle of fight-or-flight instinct.

  He stepped out of the vehicle, determined to get through this, get away from Carpenter, get Milton the help he needed.

  And then he would get to Gloria as fast as he could and kiss her and do whatever it took to move them from fragile to forever.

  Carpenter motioned to the trunk of the car. “Empty your pockets, then put your hands there where I can see them.”

  Rigo did as he was told. He laid his cell phone and wallet on the trunk of the car, then laid his hands on the edge, clearly visible.

  Carpenter opened the door to the squad car and fiddled with his equipment. “It’s better for both of us if I have this on. You’re a trained cop and I suspect you’re under the influence. I don’t know what you’ll try, but you went to the same academy I did and you know the same holds and tactics I know. This dash cam is best for us both.”

  “I told you, I’m not drunk. You want me to say the alphabet backward or walk in a straight line, man?”

  “No. I want you to do as you’re told, Chief Vasquez, and quit being belligerent. It’s really not going to look good when the media hears that the brand-new chief of Beach Patrol is driving under the influence and resisting law enforcement.”

  Carpenter was crazy, no doubt. But he was right. Any other cop in this town would bend over backward to not put a black eye on a chief of a department if he could avoid doing so. Rigo didn’t necessarily expect special treatment—he just expected fair treatment—but he knew many an incident had been swept under a rug or two in order to keep someone with a chief’s rank from being publicly embarrassed.

  But that wasn’t Carpenter’s style. He’d always been a bully and he probably saw this as an opportunity to not only take down Rigo, but to bring himself some glory. He’d applied for the job at Beach Patrol, as well. But Rigo’s strong lifeguarding experience made the difference. He understood all the aspects of the job—law enforcement and water safety. Carpenter didn’t.

  Carpenter wasn’t the type of person to care about the details, though.

  Rigo did. He cared deeply about the details. Because the details in this awkward situation could make or break everything he’d come back for.

  One detail trumped it all. He hadn’t been drinking. By any standard Carpenter chose to measure—field sobriety tests, breath tests or even a blood test—the results would all come back negative.

  But if Carpenter dragged this out or word got out to the wrong people in the meantime, something else would come back negative—Rigo’s reputation.

  He’d done good work with Beach Patrol since coming back. But his reputation, especially among those cops who hadn’t seen him since he returned and only remembered the night Felipe died and Rigo’s no-show at the funeral, stood on no more firm a foundation than the one that bolstered his fledgling relationship with Gloria.

  Rigo had so much to prove, to everyone. He couldn’t let Carpenter take this too far.

  As he thought through this very possible worst-case scenario, he could feel the sweat on his palms begin to form a slick barrier between his skin and the paint of the car.

  A metallic buzz sounded, loud enough to jerk Rigo’s head up and jolt his thoughts.

  “Don’t touch it, Vasquez. Keep your hands on the car.” Carpenter strode purposefully to the trunk and looked down at Rigo’s ringing phone. “Gloria Garcia.” He read the name off the display on the phone with what Rigo could only think of as a strong resemblance to the Grinch, as he bared his teeth and rolled out his green Grinchy antennae in anticipation of wrecking the celebrations in Whoville.

  “You know her last name is Rodriguez, don’t you?” He stared Rigo down and swiped his finger over the glass to connect the call. “Hello?”

  “I did not tell you that you could answer that, Carpenter.” Rigo gritted out the words angrily, then raised his voice, hoping he could be heard through the microphone. “Gloria, do not listen to him.”

  “Vasquez, you need to shut up unless you want to be in more trouble than you’re already in.” Carpenter fixed a stare on him, one that confirmed every fear that had run through Rigo’s mind earlier. This was personal, and Carpenter was not going to back down until he found a way to ruin Rigo.

  Rigo could hear Gloria speaking on the other end but couldn’t make out the words, just the panic in her tone of voice.

  “This is Carpenter, Gloria. I followed Vasquez from O’Boyle’s pub, where he and Officer Milton had too much to drink. Officer Milton is passed out in the car, and I’m about to take Vasquez in for further testing.”

  Rigo pushed on the side of the car so hard that the vehicle shifted its weight off the back left tire. “I’m not going to fail the field test, Carpenter. And you can’t answer my phone.”

  “I’m sorry, Gloria. I wouldn’t pull someone over without clear evidence. I saw how he was driving. And with Milton passed out, there’s no question in my mind.” He paused. “Yeah, sure. Here.”

  “She wants to talk to you.” Carpenter punched the speaker button on the phone. Rigo made a move, but Carpenter’s eyes narrowed to icy slits. “Keep your hands on the car, Chief Vasquez. I’ll hold the phone.”

  “Rigo, what is going on?”

  “Nothing. Nothing is going on.” He tried to keep his voice calm, in the hopes of soothing some of the panic out of Gloria’s voice.

  “It doesn’t sound like nothing.” Her words were clipped, short and full of gunpowder just waiting to explode.

  “Carpenter’s a jerk, Gloria. You said it yourself.”

  Carpenter shook his head disapprovingly. Rigo doubted he could dig his hole any deeper with the officer. At least maybe he could get Gloria to understand enough until he could explain things to her in person.

  “Don’t lie to me, Rigo, but if you answer yes to this, don’t ever call me again. You were at a bar?”

  Rigo had been wrong earlier when he figured there wouldn’t be shots fired at this traffic stop. Gloria was taking aim.

  He wasn’t about to lie to her, that much he could promise. “Yeah, but...”

  Carpenter tapped the screen with a fingertip. “Looks like you lost your connection.”

  “Why are you doing this, Carpenter? You turned on the dash cam. It’s all there for evidence—the fact that I told you not to answer my phone and that whole conversation.”

  He looked down the shoulder of his starched black shirt. “I did turn on the dash cam. But it looks like I forgot to turn on the mic.” Carpenter gave a half shrug, then narrowed his eyes to steely slits. “Your word against mine, Vasquez.”

  Rigo couldn’t fight the chill that came over him. It had nothing to do with the crisp September weather.

  Carpenter placed the phone on the trunk, tantalizingly in front of Rigo’s stationary hands. Rigo itched to pick up the phone and call Gloria, despite what she’d said. He needed to finish that sentence. She needed to know the rest of what he had to say.

  As hard as it was to do so, Rigo pulled his concentration back to Carpenter. More than anything, he wanted to figure out a way to get to Gloria and make her understand. However, he
knew that if he tried anything, Carpenter would make this mess even worse. Even if he got brought in front of the chief of police, he could explain away the suspicion of DUI easily by showing all the passed sobriety test results.

  If he tried to make a run for it, to get to Gloria, then he knew Carpenter would find a way to charge him with resisting arrest. And he couldn’t explain that away, certainly not with dash cam footage showing him fleeing down the street toward Inez’s.

  “I’m calling for backup to take Milton somewhere to sleep it off,” Carpenter said with all the subtlety of a two-by-four upside the head. “Then I’m testing you.”

  He didn’t know exactly what to do in this situation—he’d never been on this side before—but he knew for certain he didn’t trust Carpenter to be fair about a field test.

  “You can’t do that. I can still refuse. Every attorney would tell me to refuse.”

  “Noted. Suspect refuses field testing. I guess you’ve forgotten that since the hurricane, a no-refusal order has been in place.”

  Rigo had forgotten. And he felt the press of the trap as it tightened.

  “There’s a mobile health clinic next door to headquarters right now. They’re also set up to do blood draws. And we’ve got special arrangements with prosecutors right now during these extraordinary times and judges ready to sign bench warrants for people like you.”

  “People like me?”

  Carpenter reached for the metal cuffs at his belt. “Yeah, guys who think the rules don’t apply to them. You know, guys who would let their partner get shot and run off like a scared cat with its tail between its legs because he’s a drunk and too weak to face reality.”

  Rigo was scared. Carpenter had that much right. He was scared of what everyone would think when he was paraded in for suspicion of DUI. He was scared of how that would affect his job. A probationary period was standard for a role like his, and there were only thirty days left for Rigo. If he got pulled in under a warrant for a blood test, word would travel fast, and this would surely leave a black mark. He’d given his word when he came back that he was sober. He’d signed paperwork to that effect. Sobriety was written in his probationary contract.

  Carpenter couldn’t have known what was in that document. Only the chief of Port Provident PD, the mayor of Port Provident, and the attorneys for the department and the city knew what was in there.

  In the end, though, it didn’t matter if Carpenter knew or he was just poking at Rigo’s weak point.

  But as scared as Rigo was for his job, he was a hundred times more scared of what was going through Gloria’s head when the last word she heard out of his mouth was an admittance that he’d been in a bar.

  Even though he stood braced against the car, he could feel himself falling. He could feel the insecurity of this moment.

  The screen on Rigo’s phone lit up in front of him. At the same time, Carpenter jerked Rigo’s arms behind him to fasten the handcuffs. Rigo’s eyes, however, were still free to face forward and read the message on his phone.

  I trusted when you said you’d changed. Meeting Milton in a bar to go drinking is backward. And I can’t move forward with us in light of that. I meant what I said. Don’t call. I’ll be gone from Inez’s by morning.

  Carpenter gave Rigo a shove toward the curb. “Go sit there until my backup comes.”

  Rigo lowered himself awkwardly to a seated position, without the use of his hands for balance or bracing. He felt the position was fitting since he’d just been kicked to the proverbial curb by Gloria.

  Immediately, his mind wondered why Gloria had so little faith in him, why she’d believe a jerk like Carpenter about anything.

  But he knew the truth. He’d been a jerk to Gloria first, all those years ago.

  He’d been so close to making amends for his callous ways and winning Gloria back. But all she’d heard from him was words so far. She hadn’t yet had the opportunity to see him back it up with enough actions to drown out the voice of doubt when it came calling. She’d heard him admit with his own voice that he had been in a bar. He didn’t blame her. He could only blame himself.

  Not for going to the bar and trying to help Milton.

  For going to Mexico and breaking Gloria’s heart and her trust in the first place.

  Rigo knew tonight would come to an end. He’d be released because there was no evidence to hold him on. He’d make sure Milton got to the treatment center in Houston. And somehow, he’d find a way to navigate any questions that came his way about his ability to remain chief of Beach Patrol. He lowered his head and prayed silently for protection for his job.

  And protection for his heart.

  And then when this night was over, he’d have one last thing to do. Even though he knew it wouldn’t make any difference now.

  * * *

  All night, Gloria had stayed barricaded in the room designated as hers at Inez’s. Rigo had never come back to his own guest room at the far end of the hall.

  Since he was gone all night long, she knew the truth. If it had been a misunderstanding, he’d have been quickly released, so obviously he’d been booked for DUI and held overnight.

  She almost couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that Rigo had been out drinking again. And he’d gotten so drunk that he’d gotten caught. So much for that time in rehab and those lessons he’d said he learned.

  As the sun took its position in the morning sky, Gloria took the stairs in Inez’s house slowly, awkwardly carrying her few remaining worldly possessions in the tiny suitcase she’d brought with her as Hurricane Hope bore down on the island. She felt a bit like a hobo, jumping from place to place without permanence. But it was time to start moving forward.

  Without Rigo.

  And that meant moving out from under his aunt’s roof and away from the memories she’d formed in this place in just a few short days. Baby Mateo’s birth, the howl of Hope and Rigo’s rescue of them all. The makeshift restaurant on the widow’s walk. That tender kiss that took away the years and the yearning.

  Like everything else in Port Provident, they were all water under the bridge.

  She would leave here and ask her sister’s forgiveness for the way she’d acted last night. Hopefully Gracie and Jake would still have a couch for her to sleep on until the numerous government agencies and insurance companies flocking to the area could sort out temporary housing arrangements for Port Provident residents. Hopefully, soon she could get a hotel room or a trailer or even a tent on the beach to call her own for a while.

  But first, she had to find Inez and say goodbye.

  Gloria placed her suitcase at the bottom of the stairs next to her plastic tub of birthing supplies and followed the scent of rice into the kitchen. Inez stood behind an ancient two-burner camp stove. Gloria recognized it as the one Inez had used at Rigo’s rooftop restaurant.

  “He’s not here, querida.” Inez stirred something in a battered aluminum saucepan.

  “I know he’s not.” A lump settled in her throat. She’d known Inez for years, had respected her as a matriarch of the neighborhood and a pillar of the church community. But now, after a bond forged by wind and waves, Gloria realized she loved the petite lady like her own abuela.

  She’d said so many goodbyes in her life. Experience didn’t make them easier.

  “I’m going to stay at Gracie’s. Will you be okay here by yourself, Tía?”

  As she said that, a little fear gripped Gloria’s heart. She couldn’t leave this woman here by herself in a city turned upside down.

  “Well, they’re starting the work on the downstairs tomorrow. My grandson Raul knew some contractors in Houston and he was able to get them to come help quickly. I’ll probably go stay with Raul’s family while the work is being done. I’m glad your sister is back and that you have somewhere safe to go.”

  Gloria note
d the older woman’s omission. “What about Rigo?”

  Inez turned off one of the burners, the blue flame shrinking lower and lower until it extinguished.

  The slow diffusion reminded Gloria of her heart.

  “When I told him about the crew coming, he said not to worry about him. He had some other plans.”

  Gloria nodded with irony. She couldn’t believe Rigo had warned Inez he wasn’t coming back. It felt worse knowing he’d planned to go out on some epic bender with Milton. Why would he have even wanted to, after all the lessons he’d said he’d learned? Regardless of all his sweet-sounding promises, he’d gone back to his old ways, and once again, he hadn’t cared about the effect on Gloria. And she was a fool for ever believing it could have been otherwise.

  Gloria rolled her lower lip in slightly and bit down. Her top row of teeth felt sharp as they pressed against the flesh. At least she could still feel. Too bad all she was aware of was hurt.

  “So he didn’t call you last night?”

  Inez shook her head, light wisps of gray hair swaying beside her temples. “Call me? No. He kind of rushed out of here yesterday afternoon and said he had some unfinished business to take care of. He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, threw one of his tío Arturo’s army-issued duffel bags over his shoulder and literally ran out the front door.”

  Gloria wanted to run, too. She wanted to run from all the “I told you so” admonishments she knew she deserved.

  Her father’s dismissal of Rigo boomed inside her head, rattling off the curves of her skull and echoing over and over again. This coward...

  And then she heard Gracie’s words from last night. I just think you’re smarter than this...

  Steven McLellan had warned her at the dinner. Even that jerk Brock Carpenter had read the situation better than she had—and he’d been proven correct, right in front of his face.