No One but You--A Novel

by Brenda Novak

  He rocked back. “Whoa! What are you talking about? You’re leaving?”

  “I have no choice. I realized it when Sly almost pulled his gun on you. Something terrible is going to happen if I stay.”

  Angela couldn’t get one of the beads on her thread and brought it to Dawson. He paused to help her before returning to their conversation. “But...where will you go?”

  “Out of state,” she replied. “Maybe the east coast. As far away as I can. I can’t take him breathing down my neck anymore. He could’ve killed me and Jayden when he set that fire.”

  “I agree he’s out of control, but...when are you planning to leave?”

  She felt bad telling him this, since he’d been kind enough to help her, but she’d never dreamed Sly would set fire to her house when she accepted the job Dawson offered. “As soon as I can save enough to make it feasible.”

  Dawson watched his sister play with Jayden, but Sadie could tell his mind wasn’t on what he was seeing. “So this is all about the fire? Nothing’s happened since then?” he asked at length. “Maybe when you went in to pick up your stuff at the station?”

  She didn’t want to tell Dawson about the scene at the restaurant. She was afraid to draw him into her problems any further for fear he’d get hurt. “Not really.”

  He gave her an “I’m not buying it” expression. “What happened?”

  She began digging at her cuticles, something she often did when she was anxious or upset.

  “Sadie...”

  “Fine,” she responded with an exasperated sigh. “I’m sure you’ll hear about it anyway, since I filed a police report.”

  He stiffened. “You filed a police report? Today?”

  She nodded.

  “Why?”

  “I had no choice.” She’d tried so hard to get away from Sly peaceably, had turned herself inside out trying to respect his needs and wishes—had even given him sex long after she wanted to allow him that kind of intimacy. But none of that had done any good. He wouldn’t let her go. And since their relationship had deteriorated so far, she had nothing left to save, no reason not to go to the police. Maybe it wouldn’t help, but she had to try. “Sly came to the restaurant this morning. He was angry, knew that you’d bought me—” she checked to make sure neither Angela nor Jayden were cluing in to their conversation ”—some underwear.”

  “Because you didn’t have any—thanks to him!”

  “That’s not the direction his mind went, of course. He accused me of—” unable to maintain eye contact, she looked down at the damage she was causing her fingers “—of doing what we did last night.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “I told him he was right—and that I enjoyed it.”

  Dawson laughed at her unexpected response. “Are you joking?”

  “No.”

  He sobered. “What did he do?”

  “He went crazy, caused a scene. If Pete—his friend on the force—hadn’t been with him and interceded...” She let her voice trail off.

  Dawson leaned closer. “What? Don’t tell me he would’ve hit you.”

  “He wanted to. When he raised his fist, I could see the hatred in his eyes, knew he wasn’t in his right mind.”

  Dawson’s muscles bunched. “That son of a bitch doesn’t know when to quit.”

  “There’s something seriously wrong with him,” she agreed. “But the situation is what it is. I need to accept reality and do what I can to protect myself and my child.”

  Dawson got up and began to pace the short distance between Angela’s bed and her walk-in closet.

  “You can’t let it upset you,” she told him. “Like I said, it is what it is.”

  He pivoted to face her. “Can I ask you something?”

  The gravity in his voice made her uneasy. “That depends...”

  “Last night, when you told me you were on the pill...”

  Apparently, the oddness of her response in that moment hadn’t slipped past him, after all.

  She put up a hand. “No. Don’t ask.”

  He stopped in front of her. “It’s because you’ve still been sleeping with him, right?”

  Damn it. He’d asked anyway. And she couldn’t blame him. If she were him, she would’ve guessed the same, would also have wondered why. “No! I mean...not recently and not like you probably assume. It’s just...since I left him, he’s come by the house a lot, insisting we have some family time with Jayden—for Jayden’s sake so that we keep things as normal as possible.”

  “And then he’d turn it into something more.”

  “Yes. After I put Jayden to bed. Whenever I’d refuse, it would start a fight. So there were a few times—three, to be exact—when...when I gave in to avoid the upset and abuse I’d get otherwise. I was looking for a way to get rid of him without having my son wake up to another blistering argument.” She rubbed her face. “Sometimes I think I’d do anything to avoid another fight. At least I thought that until the last time. He came over just before Thanksgiving, drunk and belligerent, and he wouldn’t leave until...well, until, and that was such an awful experience I knew I could never do it again, not even to stave off a fight.” She closed her eyes as she remembered how rough and demanding he’d been.

  “And yet you stayed on the pill.”

  She forced herself to look at him again. “In case...”

  “In case he were to force you,” Dawson guessed, spelling it out.

  She hesitated to go that far. Sly hadn’t ever raped her, exactly. It was more that he made her feel cornered, as if giving him what he wanted was the only way out—or the best way out. “Maybe, in the back of my mind, I fear it’s a possibility. Because I’ve been absolutely religious about taking that pill. It’s an act of defiance, in a way. He’d love it if I were to get pregnant again. Then I’d have to come back to him. It was during my last pregnancy that he became so controlling, because he knew he had me at even more of a disadvantage.”

  Dawson shook his head. “You have no idea what I’d like to do to that man.”

  She got off the bed, too. “See? That’s why I didn’t want to tell you. There’s nothing you can do about Sly, nothing that won’t get you hurt or in trouble. Our hands are tied. The only answer is for me to leave town—and to make sure he can never find me.”

  “That’s not the only option,” he argued. “You should be able to live where you want. He’s a police officer, for God’s sake. I’m going to pay him a visit and let him know that he’d better not ever touch you again.”

  She grabbed hold of his arm. “No! You have to promise me you’ll stay clear of him. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you or anyone else.”

  “Are you mad, Sadie?” The emergency in Sadie’s voice had finally drawn Angela’s attention. “Dawson, did you make Sadie mad?”

  He cleared his throat. “No, I’m mad at someone else.”

  “Who?” she asked.

  “A bad guy,” he responded.

  “What bad guy?” she asked.

  “You don’t know him, honey. And you don’t have to worry about it. I’ve got everything under control.”

  Too interested in what she was doing to bother asking any more about some generic “bad guy,” she returned to making jewelry with Jayden.

  “Dawson, please,” Sadie whispered. “I’ve got enough to worry about. You can’t get involved.”

  “Someone has to stop him,” he said.

  “The police will do that. Like I told you, I filed a complaint against him today, and I applied for a restraining order.”

  He shoved his hands into his pockets. “And how was that received?”

  She could hear the skepticism in his tone. “Chief Thomas was a little patronizing,” she admitted. “He suggested I might be exaggera
ting, especially after he called Pete, and Pete said he’d seen what happened and it wasn’t that big of a deal. But Chief Thomas promised me he’d talk to Lolita, too. She could tell the threat was real. She’ll back me up.”

  “Even if she does, he didn’t actually strike you, so they’ll minimize it and sweep it under the rug. You realize that, don’t you? In their minds, he hasn’t done anything to be suspended over, and they can’t have an officer on active duty walking around with a restraining order against him.”

  Again, it came back to the fact that she had nowhere to turn. But she couldn’t expect Dawson to do any more than he already had. “Even if Thomas only threatens him to stay away from me, it should help. I only need to buy a few months.”

  “Maybe it’s time to go on the offensive.”

  “Offensive how?”

  “Sly believes he’s got his boot on your neck. That’s why he had the nerve to set the fire in the first place.”

  “He does have his boot on my neck,” she pointed out with a humorless chuckle.

  “It’s time for the power paradigm to shift,” he mumbled as if he wasn’t really talking to her.

  “What’d you say?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he replied. Angela had decided she wanted more of Dawson’s attention and asked him to come over and make her a necklace. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  20

  After they left Stanley DeWitt, Dawson was too tired to drive home, as originally planned, and it wasn’t comfortable for him to sit in the middle so Sadie could drive. He was too big for that spot. So he suggested they get some dinner, stay over at a motel and head back early the next morning.

  He thought Sadie might balk. A motel room was close quarters, and neither one of them had money to waste on renting two when they could get by with one, but, when he mentioned it, she readily agreed. He got the impression she was eager to be gone from Silver Springs for as long as possible. She wanted to be gone for good.

  He didn’t feel too great about seeing her go, however. He had no idea if their relationship would progress, but he was enjoying her friendship and support, even if she never gave him anything more. He hated to think of her on the run, always looking over her shoulder for fear Sly would catch up. He also hated that Sly had had her at such a disadvantage—and capitalized on it—for so long. In Dawson’s mind, there had to be a better way for her to escape her current situation than to start over somewhere else, with nothing and no one except her child.

  Fortunately, Sly might’ve unwittingly provided her with a better chance to escape. If they could only prove he set the fire, he’d go to prison.

  “We need to hire an outside investigator to take a look at the fire evidence,” he said when they were talking about the problem over dinner. “Like I did with the forensic specialist who examined my parents’ bedroom.”

  Sadie looked startled by the suggestion. “How? Hiring someone like that costs money, which is something I don’t have.”

  “They don’t cost that much.”

  “I’m sure they do by my standards!”

  “But consider the possibilities.” Pushing his chimichanga platter aside the moment he finished with it, he spent some time on his phone, looking up crime scene investigators that included fire inspectors on the internet and showing those who looked to have extensive experience to Sadie. One of the most promising lived right in LA.

  “There’s nothing to indicate rates,” she said as she passed his phone back to him and finished her margarita.

  “Ed charged me two grand plus travel. Shouldn’t be more than that. It’s definitely cheaper than moving,” he pointed out. “And if we hire the guy from LA, there shouldn’t be much travel. Just a tank or two of gas.”

  Now that Jayden was full and only playing with his bean-and-cheese burrito, she stacked the plates so that he’d have more room to finish coloring his paper place mat. “Still. Moving is later. When I’ve had a chance to save up. Hiring an arson investigator would require immediate money, and even $500 is a fortune to me.”

  The waitress came by, so Dawson waited until their plates had been removed. “I’ll loan you what you need,” he said. “I feel that strongly about it.”

  She dipped a tortilla chip in the salsa. “Like you loaned me the money for the clothes?”

  Dawson had had two margaritas, enough tequila to feel loose and relaxed in a way he hadn’t been relaxed in a long time. The motel they’d rented was right next door, so they could walk over when they were finished, wouldn’t need to worry about driving, which was why he’d allowed himself to drink a little more than he would otherwise.

  He gave her a lazy smile as he remembered the panty purchase—and the fact that he’d had the pleasure of removing those panties from her body later.

  What he wouldn’t give to do that again...

  “What?” she said when he didn’t speak.

  He tried to steer his mind back to safer territory. “Doesn’t hurt to call and ask.”

  “But how will we know the guy we choose to hire is any good? And even if he is good, what if he doesn’t find anything to prove Sly’s complicity? It’s a risk, you know?”

  He straightened in the booth. “I believe we know who did it,” he said, in deference to Jayden.

  “So do I,” she said without hesitation.

  “Then let’s prove it. We can check with Ed Shuler, the specialist I hired. See if he has any recommendations. He’s an ex-cop, might’ve worked with someone he could suggest. If not, we’ll have to use one of the guys I’ve found here.” He gestured at his phone. “The one from LA.”

  She turned her glass around and around on the table, making a solid ring out of the condensation.

  “Unless you want to leave town.” He studied her. He was essentially asking if there wasn’t something in Silver Springs she liked and, when she glanced up, he knew she understood that.

  “I did want to go,” she said. “I’ve dreamed about it for a long time.”

  “And now?”

  Her lips curved into a self-conscious smile. “I wouldn’t be in any hurry if...if not for Sly.”

  Dawson scooted lower in the booth. “Good. Let’s do it, then. We’ll split the cost.”

  She grimaced. “No. I can’t let you bear any of the expense, not when you have so much at risk yourself, what with the farm and your sister and everything. It’ll be a loan, nothing more—and only if you’re positive you can afford to lend it to me without ruining what you’re trying to accomplish.”

  “I’ve got a little padding.”

  “Okay. But it’ll definitely be a loan. I won’t accept anything else.”

  He lifted his glass. “Fine, a loan, then.”

  The check came, and she tried to insist on paying for half of it.

  “We’re here on business,” he said, handing her credit card back before the waiter could collect the tray.

  “Eating Mexican food and drinking margaritas is business?” she scoffed.

  “I brought you to LA to meet Angela, didn’t I? I’m covering meals and expenses.”

  “Okay. But this feels more like a vacation. I can’t remember a meal I enjoyed more.”

  “You’re easy to please.” He liked that about her, liked that she was real and down-to-earth and sensitive to other people’s situations and not just her own.

  Something passed between them. Dawson almost reached across the table to take her hand. He thought she might let him, but he resisted. He needed to move slowly, to give her time to acclimate to having a different man in her life. He also needed to be careful. He’d never really fallen in love, didn’t have a lot of experience with it, and he definitely didn’t want to start something if it wasn’t going to work out.

  She helped Jayden finish his picture while Dawson paid. Then they walke
d over to the motel. There were two double beds. Sadie and Jayden would be in one; he’d be in the other. But, as tired as Dawson was, he wasn’t sure he’d be getting any sleep. Long after the lights were out and they were settled in for the night, he found himself staring across the space that separated him from Sadie.

  * * *

  They were in the truck, driving home the next morning, when Dawson tried to reach Big Red at Safety First. He tried once at eight and once at nine, but it wasn’t until they were nearly to Silver Springs that he finally got through.

  Knowing what hung in the balance, Sadie wanted to listen to the conversation. She was praying he’d get good news—in her opinion, he deserved a little—but they’d just pulled over to get gas and Jayden needed to use the restroom.

  By the time she took her son into the mini-mart, bought him an apple after they were finished in the restroom and returned, Dawson was off the phone.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  He removed the gas nozzle from his tank and screwed on the cap. “It was a guy by the name of Oscar Hunt.”

  “Who built the shelter for Alex? That’s who saw the vagrant you picked up and mentioned it to Gage Pond at The Blue Suede Shoe?”

  Dawson opened the passenger door to lift Jayden into his safety seat. “Yep.”

  “Did you talk to him?”

  “No, he’s out on a job.”

  “He doesn’t have a cell phone?”

  “He’s somewhere in the Nevada desert, doesn’t have service. They won’t give me his personal information, anyway. But Big Red said he’d give Hunt my number as soon as they have contact with him.”

  “Did you ask if Oscar has ever mentioned the incident?”

  “I did. Big Red had no idea what I was talking about, though. Said he doesn’t recall.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “No,” Dawson agreed, but she could tell he was nervous that the lead wouldn’t go anywhere. He had only this Oscar’s sighting of a vagrant fitting the right description and the hope that the forensics specialist he hired would be able to find something of evidentiary value, when all he’d had to start with was a crime scene that’d already been scoured by police. The odds were not in his favor.