The Lawman's Second Chance

by Ruth Logan Herne

  Alex lifted the folder. He opened it and scanned the contents. “Why would this guy steal from the Fitzgeralds?”

  “Why does anyone steal?” Iuppa looked surprised by the question. “Money. Cash. Maybe he’s a druggie. Maybe he’s just a guy down on his luck and behind on his mortgage. In any case, he’s got the exact piece of equipment we’re looking for. I say we go get him now and ask questions later. Before he has a chance to get away.”

  Alex shook his head. “Check him out first. If he’s our guy, we’ll nab him, but the T190 isn’t rare and I don’t want to collar someone for a coincidental posting online. See if you can find a reason why he’d do this. How he’d know when to come on-site and trailer that stuff out of there. It was a bold move.”

  “So bold no one saw a thing,” Iuppa griped. “Sneaking around at 4:00 a.m. isn’t bold. It’s cowardly.”

  Alex shrugged. “Not when you’re driving a rig big enough to haul away farm equipment on someone else’s land.” He raised the folder slightly. “Do you want to follow up or shall I do it?”

  “Give it here.” Iuppa grasped the file and raised his voice just enough to draw attention their way. “Might as well. I’ve done the legwork so far, haven’t I?”

  Alex refused to look around. He knew what he’d see. Some of the guys were okay with him coming in from outside. Others weren’t, but that wasn’t anything new or different in cop circles. He needed to earn trust and respect. Having Sal dress him down while trying to show him up in front of others?

  Classic underling envy. Iuppa had strategized his move when the office was fairly full of people, hoping to embarrass Alex.

  Not gonna happen. If Iuppa put together solid facts to lead to Lisa’s equipment, Alex and Jack Samson would be grateful. But he wished he’d thought of putting an ad on the internet himself now that a space of time had passed.

  He pulled into the parking lot to the left of the suspension walking bridge about an hour later. He spotted Lisa right off.

  Beautiful. Tall. Regal.

  She carried herself more like a queen than a princess, and he loved that about her.

  Right until she saw him and frowned. No, make that glowered. She marched his way and thrust a paper toward him, then snatched it back before he could make out the image. Her first question took him aback. “Do you have any idea what your kids are doing, Alex?”

  Beautiful? Regal? Shrew-like might be more accurate at the moment. She waved the paper again. “Any clue at all?”

  “Stop yelling and tell me what this is about.” If she refused to stay calm, he had to. At least long enough to figure out what was wrong. And then he’d walk away and leave well enough alone because she clearly was less enamored of him than he was of her, which was exactly what he wanted, wasn’t it?

  Until her lower lip quivered with hurt and indignation and then he just wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her. For hours.

  “Here.” She pushed the paper at him again, and this time let him take it. He turned it around, studied the design and shrugged.

  “What is this?”

  She sniffed, disgruntled, as if the answer should be obvious. “A garden.”

  He acknowledged that with a slow nod. “I see that. And?” He lifted his gaze to hers, puzzled. “This makes you angry?”

  “You make me angry.”

  She sputtered the declaration as if he was the one with issues. He studied the garden plan, then the woman in front of him before lifting his shoulders. “I don’t get it.”

  “Exactly!” She nodded, emphatic. “That’s the problem, Alex. You don’t get it, but you’re doing absolutely nothing about it, and that’s unacceptable.”

  “Stop railing at me. Please.” He kept his voice calm, a trick-of-the-trade in police work, but inside, anger simmered low on a back burner. Who was she to scold him? Berate him? He’d held it together when Iuppa one-upped him a little while ago, and when the guy sought to embarrass him at Miss Mavis’s place, sending out a full contingent to save Alex from a blind woman’s empty gun. But he must have missed the calendar update that declared open season on Alex Steele in Allegany County. “There’s no reason we can’t keep things civil between us, is there?”

  “Civil? Us? What are you talking about?” Her outrage blended with bewilderment, then she took a step back. Way back. She waved a hand between them. “You think this is about us? You and me? There is no ‘us,’ Alex, despite a kiss that rocked the scales into the stratosphere. This is about them.” She pointed to the paper again. “Your children. And how their lives are completely messed up.”

  Her accusation flashed the simmering anger to boiling point. Alex’s practiced cool and calm snapped. “What do you know about my kids? About any kids? You’re not a mother, Lisa.”

  “I know this.” She stepped closer, and ticked off her fingers, holding his gaze. “Josh asks the single moms at pre-school if they want to date his daddy because he needs a mommy like the other kids and he wants to help his daddy find one.”

  “He’s four,” Alex sputtered. “He doesn’t understand what’s happened and he just wants to be like the other kids. He’ll grow out of it. Or find me a date. Either way, problem solved, right?”

  His attempt at humor failed miserably. Lisa’s expression hardened more, and he hadn’t thought that possible.

  “Is it funny that Becky pretends her mother is alive? That she wants the kids at school to think her mother’s home, waiting for her at the end of the day? That she tells stories about her mother, present day? As if Jenny’s the one taking her for haircuts, buying her clothes?”

  Alex’s anger withered. The thought of Becky lying to save face, pretending Jenny was alive... “How do you know this?”

  Lisa met his gaze, raised her chin and sighed. “I think you’re the only one who doesn’t know this, Alex. The kids in her class are treating her with kid gloves because the teacher explained how she’d gone through a difficult loss, but Becky doesn’t know that. In her head, she thinks they believe her because they’re playing along.”

  “Why didn’t her teacher tell me?” Alex strode off a few paces, whipped around and raked a hand through his hair. “How dare she address a problem like this without talking to me first.”

  Lisa shrugged. “Maybe she was hoping it would pass. Maybe you’re not so easy to talk to. I have no idea. But two of the ladies at Tuesday night’s meeting were aware of the situation. And if they’re aware, that means most of the town knows.”

  “That my kid is making up stories? Inventing a mother that doesn’t exist? Great.” Alex’s attempt to wrap his brain around her revelations failed. “Why would everyone know and not say anything?”

  “Because they like you.”

  His short, bitter laugh doubted her assertion. After dealing with Sal’s tirade at the barracks, he was pretty sure few people in Jamison liked him. “Right.”

  “They do.” Lisa hauled in a deep breath and indicated the town with a nod. “They respect your work ethic, your rank, the fact that you’re trying to start fresh with your kids and that you handle them well. So they’re staying out of the way. Trust me—” she gave a half sigh and a small smile “—it isn’t always low-key gossip in a small town. They’re actually cutting you some slack. But then there’s this.” She indicated the paper with a glance. “Emma.”

  “Emma did this?”

  “With my computer software originally. Then she cut and pasted pics off the internet to make the garden plan. It’s a pink garden, Alex.”

  He stared at her, then the paper, then her again. “For Jenny.”

  “Yes.” Lisa bit her lip and turned slightly, staring at nothing, then drew her gaze back to his. And what he saw there wasn’t empathy—it was pain spiced with a dash of anger. “She was afraid to bring it to you, because it would hurt you. We’ve got a ten-year-old kid who ca
n’t approach her father about doing a tribute to her deceased mother because she’s protecting you. And you know what, Alex?”

  He was doing triple time trying to make sense of all she was dumping on him, but she wasn’t done. Not by half, because she moved closer and locked gazes with him. “I’m so tired of people not wanting to deal with cancer. Of the looks...the fear...the questions people are afraid to ask outright, but wonder about behind closed doors. These kids should be able to come to you with anything. Talk to you. Share with you. But you’re so busy starting new, you’ve forgotten to respect what’s gone on before. And your kids need you to do that. They need to be able to talk about their mother. Remember her. Share those good times.”

  “They’ve always been able to talk to me.” Alex made the declaration outright, but the proof was here. Right here. Lisa was holding up a mirror and the image he saw in that glass wasn’t the happy family he’d been striving for. And worse?

  He couldn’t prove her wrong because he’d found that letter two days before. A letter written by a little girl, addressed to her late mother.

  He sank onto the park bench and breathed in and out. “How do I fix this? If you’re done yelling at me, that is.”

  “I’m not yelling. Well. Not anymore, at least.” Lisa drew the words out. “But someone had to lay it out for you. If the teachers weren’t willing to tackle it, and the kids were holding back to protect you, someone needed to open your eyes to what was going on. I hate that it was me, but hey. That’s what friends are for, right?”

  “Friends.” He tipped his gaze up, then glanced down, indicating the seat beside him. “Well, friend, have you got any advice for me? Words of wisdom?”

  “Talk to them.”

  She didn’t take the seat and he understood the silent message behind her reticence. He had issues he needed to resolve. She had no desire to be thrust into the middle of them, and rightly so. And this fit with his decision to quietly back off what could have been a growing relationship, because kids shouldn’t have to go through cancer repeatedly.

  “Emma wants to do a pink memory garden, a breast cancer awareness garden.” Lisa swept the paper in his hand a quick look. “In the front yard. That’s going to be a topic of conversation when folks see it. And she’ll want to talk about it. About her mother. You need to be ready for that.”

  Lisa’s words reminded him of what Nancy had said before he’d moved the whole family two hours southwest. That he could run from the past, but he couldn’t hide.

  He’d been insulted then.

  Now he realized he owed her an apology.

  He’d been determined to wipe the slate clean for a forward thrust, but had no idea how it would affect the children’s grieving. That they would think the topic of their mother was off-limits because he wanted to start new.

  A grown-up might have understood his logic. How foolish of him to think kids would grasp that reasoning naturally. On top of that, he’d given their puppy away. That made him a colossal loser.

  He stood and held the garden outline aloft. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

  She bit back a sigh and shrugged. “You’re welcome. Kind of. I hated to do it, but when I got Emma’s email I realized I’m doing the same thing with my dad. Treading softly so he can have time to grieve for my mother.”

  “And you, Lisa?” Alex cut the distance between them by moving forward when what she needed him to do was step back. Stay back. “Have you had time to grieve?”

  She hadn’t, but as an adult, she could reason things out. “I’m realizing I need to deal with similar issues myself. And if it’s tough for a grown-up, how much more difficult must it be for a kid?”

  “I’ll fix it.” Alex didn’t step closer, but she wished he would. And wished he wouldn’t. He folded the paper in half and slipped it into his pocket. “Will you take care of putting together the stuff for the pink garden?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She started to move off, toward her car. He called her name.

  She paused, wanting to turn back. But she didn’t. Not with so much on her plate. So much on his. She’d been alive for over three decades, long enough to know life doesn’t always follow a fairy-tale path.

  She needed to walk away from Alex, set him free to embrace the future God planned for him. A future that didn’t include another cancer patient. A future that couldn’t include her.

  Chapter Ten

  Alex called a family meeting that night. He’d spent every quiet minute of the day wondering how to approach the kids. Now that the time had come, his gut rumbled. His hands grew sweaty. He sat them down in the family room, then drew up a chair, facing them. “I need to talk to you guys.”

  Two nervous faces looked back at him. Josh, nonchalant and totally not getting it, reached for his game system. Alex got his attention when he put the small console out of reach. “Not now, bud.”

  Josh scowled.

  Becky twitched.

  Emma hummed.

  His window of time was rapidly closing and he had no clue how to handle this. Him, a cop, a trained, experienced investigator. He could go one-on-one with a felon and emerge triumphant. Talking to his kids about their insecurities?

  That was hard. “We need to talk about Mommy.”

  His words got Emma’s attention. She sat up straighter and met his gaze. “I miss her.”

  So far, so good. He nodded. “Me, too. And I moved us down here so—”

  “We could forget her,” Becky supplied helpfully, her toes curling around the rungs of the stool she’d perched on. “Start new.”

  “No, I—”

  “And find a new mommy, maybe.” Josh offered his own take on the situation.

  “No, Josh, it’s—”

  “We don’t need someone new, Josh!” Becky glared at him from her higher vantage point. Alex heard the anger in her voice but her look held fear. Fear of being found out, of having kids discover her mother wasn’t waiting at home for her at the end of the day.

  “Emma, Lisa came to see me today.”

  Emma froze in her chair. She attempted indifference but he read the “uh-oh” look in her eyes.

  “She brought me the sketch for your garden. The pink garden.”

  She looked trapped. Caught. And Alex hated that a ten-year-old kid hadn’t felt secure enough to come to him herself. “I love it,” he continued with a smile of approval. “What a great tribute to your mother, Emma. I’d like to get it planted this weekend, okay?”

  She hauled in a breath, surprised, then nodded. Her face brightened. “Yeah, that would be great!”

  “And Becky, will you help us plant stuff? Pink stuff?”

  “Like at Lisa’s store?”

  “Exactly like that.” He remembered how the pink immersion made him recoil a few weeks ago. He’d been acting like a wuss. Now it was time to man up. Lead his children, his family. “And, Beck, you know that people will see the garden, right? From the road and the sidewalk?”

  She nodded and shrugged. “Yeah. It’s in the front yard, Dad.” She rolled her eyes like he was slow on the uptake, a typical Becky move.

  “They’ll notice it,” he continued, leading her step-by-step, waiting until she made the connection. “They’ll ask about the pink garden and we’ll tell them we did it for Mommy and all the women who’ve had to deal with breast cancer. Okay?”

  Realization dawned as he watched. She glanced at the paper rendering, then snapped her fingers as if a light bulb moment occurred. “How ’bout we put it in the backyard, by the creek? That would be prettier, don’t you think?”

  She cast him a bright smile, but he read the anxiety in her false cheer. The garden would call her out, would let everyone in her class know she’d been making up having a m
om.

  “It’s going out front, Becky. That’s where I planned it and that’s where it’s going. Besides, these are flowers that need sun.” Emma shrugged off her sister’s idea. “The creek is shady.”

  “We can change the flowers.” Distraught, Becky darted a glance from the garden plan to the backyard. “Or find a sunny spot by the creek.”

  Emma groaned.

  Alex reached over and lifted Becky from the stool. “You’re worried people will find out that Mommy died, aren’t you?”

  Emma looked surprised. “Dad, everyone knows that. Don’t they?”

  Becky curled closer beneath his collar.

  “And you think it will be awkward if people find out this way?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” She muttered the words into his shirt, but he knew she was getting his drift. In Becky-fashion, though, it needed to be her idea, in her time frame.

  He’d follow her lead and go step-by-step. He held her close and aimed a firm look in Josh’s direction. “And you. Stop trying to get me dates at pre-school, although I admit the brownies and cookies the ladies have sent have been a nice plus. If I want to date someone, I’ll just do it, although I appreciate your help, bud.”

  “Like Lisa.” Brows hiked, Emma arched a bright smile his way, and her eyes said the idea of having Lisa around worked for her. It worked for him, too, but kids didn’t see the whole picture.

  He and Lisa did. Where cancer was concerned, once was enough. Except when he was around Lisa, he forgot that. And it had been five years since her treatments.

  If you’re looking for guarantees, buy tires, his conscience scolded. There’s no warranty on life. It is what it is.

  But chancing more tragedy for his children couldn’t make the short list.

  By the time he got the kids into bed, he was drained physically and mentally, but he’d acted on Lisa’s advice and that felt good.