Sanders had been back in Ohio for five years now, and I couldn’t imagine him leaving, either. The slope of his shoulders and his quiet acceptance told me he understood exactly what I meant. He often said that Ohio had a way of claiming people for its own. I guess Ohio had claimed both of us.
“I thought this new job might be just what you needed to get away from Rowan. A new town. A new position. And a new beginning.”
Sanders’s thoughtfulness amazed me sometimes. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, Ohio wasn’t the only thing that had claimed me as its own. I belonged to Colby Sanders in many ways, too. “I’ve already started over.”
He gave me a suspicious look over his burger.
“I’m moving out of the apartment and into something away from the city. I’m looking for a nice quiet place in the country.”
“Thank God,” Sanders said. “That dump you’ve been living in is enough to put anybody in a catatonic state of depression.”
I chuckled. “Know this, Sanders, I’m never going to be able to get that image of you cleaning in those purple dish gloves out of my head.”
“Hey, that was one of my finest moments!” He laughed with me over the pathetic highlights of my apartment and joked it was exactly the stereotypical building where we’d expect to find a serial bomber.
“And Rowan?” Sanders finally asked.
I shrugged. “She asked me to be her partner in a new yoga and meditation retreat business she’s building. She wants to run it on the land and use the house as a type of bed and breakfast.”
“Hmm…business partner. That’s different.”
“I thought so, too. I told her I’d help out when I could, but we’re better friends than any sort of partners.”
Sanders nodded.
“So I can stay?”
Sanders polished off the last of his burger and leveled his intense gaze with mine. “Under one condition.”
I groaned, imagining what dreadful rule he was about to impose on me.
“You move up to be an assistant director of the OBCI. You’ll have full authority to open and clear cases. A pay increase will be in order, of course. Something to help you with that new place in the country.”
Could I have really heard him correctly? I shook my head, trying to understand. “Why are you doing this for me, Sanders?”
“You deserve it.” He reached for his pack of cigarettes and lit one. “Besides, as you said, we keep catching more and more serials, and I need your help. And there is the fact that I’m becoming an old man.”
“No,” I teased him. Sanders had recently turned sixty, and the OBCI couldn’t run smoothly without him. He was as essential as the bricks and mortar of our building.
Old man or not, I wanted Sanders by my side in any case. “Deal.”
“Excellent.” He tipped his beer bottle at me. “So tell me about this perfect place you’re going to find in the country.”
*
I had to walk almost three blocks to my apartment building; all the parking spaces were taken and the city streets were metered. I finally found a spot on a neighborhood street. Free and ample parking was definitely something I looked forward to in my new place of residence. The cool night air felt good against my face after the warmth of the beer and my discussion with Sanders. For the first time in a long time I felt a strong sense of calm. I folded my hands inside my jacket pockets and felt the tail end of fall tinged with a taste of what the winter would bring.
The entry of my building was littered with twentysomethings all milling about to organize which clubs they’d spend the night trolling. I elbowed through them and took the stairs two at a time. I couldn’t wait to shed this temporary home and move on.
As I neared my front door, I saw a shape against the wall in the hallway’s darkness. Someone was waiting for me.
“Bennett?”
She stood up to greet me and the dog beside her bounded toward me and licked my hands.
“Gus!”
“I hope this is okay,” Bennett said. “I probably should have called.”
“It’s fine,” I said, walking closer with Gus tailing me. “It’s good to see you both.” I rubbed Gus behind his soft folded ears and his tail wagged so hard, it smacked the wall behind him. “Why is Gus with you?”
“He wanted to take a ride with me to see you. Can’t you tell he loves you best?” Gus licked my hand over and over again.
Bennett shifted back and forth on the thick edges of her trail shoes, and finally her soft brown eyes turned up toward mine. “I wanted to say something to you, Luce.”
“Me, too. You go first.”
I waited, noticing how perfectly her worn jeans fit her athletic frame and the way her flannel collar rested against the taut skin of her neck which still showed the last traces of her summer tan. She’d rolled the sleeves up a few turns, and a silver watch that looked like it logged everything possible sat on her wrist. A worry line formed between her dark brows and I wanted to reach out for her, to hug her, but she spoke before I could move.
“I overreacted. I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. I should have told you immediately. It just never felt like the right time, and I didn’t want to hurt you.”
Gus licked my hand and rubbed against my leg. “Are you caretaking for this handsome little man?” I asked.
“Albert has been arrested, and he’ll do some time,” she said. “His neighbors can’t take the dog long-term. Albert asked if you would.”
I knelt down and stroked Gus behind the ears. He looked like he was grinning at me.
“I know this doesn’t replace the dogs you left with Rowan, but this little guy needs your help,” Bennett said.
“How can I deny this sweet guy a home?”
“You can’t,” Bennett declared. “Here’s his stats: forty pounds, about three years of age, completely healthy, and he’s been well cared for. The vet says he is a mix of Lab and beagle.”
“Gus had me with his first lick,” I said.
I unlocked my apartment door and turned back to Bennett. “I’m really glad you’re here, and not just because of Gus. Just a warning: you’re stepping into an old pit of mine. I’ll be moving soon.”
Bennett smiled and pulled me into a big hug, the dog between us at our feet. Our lips met, searching each other at first and then hungry for so much more.
“I’m glad I’m here, too,” Bennett said.
Epilogue
The Powell River loomed wide and blue against the April sky. For our first float of spring, the riverbanks and surrounding forest brimmed with wildflowers and lush green leaves. I edged the tip of my kayak past Bennett’s, cutting through the calm waters still cold from the winter months.
“Don’t get overzealous there, hotshot.” Bennett paddled hard until her kayak pulled ahead of mine.
Bennett, I’d learned, couldn’t stand to lose. In the past few months, our strong-willed personalities clashed in a few battles, but we always found our way through it. Today, I wasn’t going to let her lead. Once my kayak pulled ahead of hers again, the healthy competition commenced. We edged each other out, first her and then me, in a race to see whose kayak would lead. Our paddles frantically circled the figure eight as river water sprayed across our bodies.
I’d had some practice with the paddle since my first kayaking experience with Bennett, and I had a good start to filling my very own stone jar. In January, we traveled together to the Florida Keys for a two-week kayaking adventure where we floated our way along each of the island’s edges and watery marshes. We kayaked early in the morning, and then took refuge inland from the brutal midday sun. Throughout our travels in the Keys, we toured the towns, investigated the history of the islands, and lounged together under ceiling fans where she read and I napped to the soft sound of her turning pages. In the evenings, Bennett and I took to the water again where we watched many fiery sunsets from our little plastic boats.
Traveling to the Keys wasn’t the only adventure Bennett and I
had been on together. On one of the coldest days of the year, we embarked on a daylong meditation retreat at Pranam, Rowan’s retreat center. It had been Bennett’s idea, a way to show support for Rowan’s business since I declined her offer as a business partner. While I helped out with some repairs and other small duties around the house and land, I was rarely in the area and Rowan was forced to find other handywomen. Despite her disappointment in my decision, Rowan blessed us with hemp smoke and sang blessings for our souls throughout the daylong retreat. Her toe rings clicked against the barn’s wooden floor, and her bare feet showed one toe visibly missing, a terrible reminder of the suffering Rowan endured because of me during the Willow’s Ridge case. Truth be told, that was why I was willing to sit on the hard floor fighting the lotus pose and listen to what she had to say about karma. Rowan had regularly talked to me about karma when we were together; she used the promise that what goes around comes around as a way to soothe my pain over the death of Marci Tucker and my experiences in the One True Path ministry. In some ways she was correct—there were aspects of crime that couldn’t be settled in a courtroom and were better left up to the laws of karma. Many times, though, I needed more than karma—I needed justice.
Justice, for the most part, had been served in the Wallace Lake case. Everyone involved with the crimes had been held legally accountable and would serve some type of sentence. Both Joan and Henry Marco would spend the rest of their lives behind bars. Legally, Joan would only answer to human trafficking, fraud, and the murder charge of Rhonda Betterly, though I believed she should answer for so much more. She would never see the outside of prison again, and I believed serving hard time was more of a punishment than the death penalty. I found solace knowing that things would not be easy for Joan Marco on the inside—Heart to Heart had touched many in the drug community, and Joan would soon come face to face with some of the women she’d pimped out. Cody Allard’s life would never be the same again. He was sentenced to a year in prison. He lost his job at the Wallace Lake High School, and the sex offender label sentenced him to the life of an outsider. Justice was also served in the cases of Sadie Reid, Henry Marco, and Albert Finley for their parts in the crimes. I was torn, particularly for Sadie, whom I understood was guilty of murder. I also understood there were extenuating circumstances that led to her involvement. And I’d grown fond of Albert—I didn’t want to see him suffer. Bennett liked to remind me that I couldn’t pick and choose who got justice. After all, Bennett liked to say, the statue was blindfolded for a reason.
“Hansen! Bennett! Wait for us!”
Bennett and I slowed down the kayaks so that the group could catch up. I floated beside her with my oar resting across the boat.
“Teenagers.” Bennett rolled her eyes. “Slowpokes.”
Ava Washington finally came into our view with a slew of teens in kayaks following behind her. Bennett and I regularly appointed Ava as the team leader for our day trips and excursions into nature.
After the case closed, a new teen center opened in Wallace Lake County, a place where kids who had been affected by the opiate epidemic or the sex trade could find safety and a listening ear. Almost every person in this part of the state knew someone who struggled with these types of addictions. Most knew at least one person who’d died from it. The center offered group discussions and educational classes on health and well-being to help teens either break free of their addictions or to stay away from dangerous substances and behaviors. They also offered many group activities, some of which Bennett and I led. We’d taken groups kayaking on the Powell River, fishing on Wallace Lake, and led many hikes through the wooded terrain of Wallace Lake County. I loved the activities because they gave Bennett and me a chance to spend time together and also allowed us to get to know the teenagers in the area.
It had been a good five months since everything went down in Wallace Lake, and Ava Washington still struggled. It wasn’t only the fallout of her relationship with Cody Allard, but she also dealt with feelings of guilt. Ava believed she should have asked Sadie more questions, and she should have helped the friend she idolized before it was too late. Something told me that no matter what Ava would have done, Sadie wouldn’t have accepted help. The trick was helping Ava to realize that.
My life had significantly improved since the beginning of the Wallace Lake case, and I found myself most grateful for the little bungalow I bought in Springrock. It was far enough from the Powell River not to flood every time its waters rose, and close enough to the shore to hear the constant flow of the currents. My new country home was about forty-five minutes from the OBCI headquarters and two miles from Bennett’s place. I often ran the distance between our homes with Gus pulling me along behind him.
Bennett and I had made a commitment to each other. This time around, though, I was doing things differently. Instead of moving in together after only a week like I had with Rowan, Bennett and I determined we each needed our own space. For the time being, at least, we kept the separate residences. I was still learning it was okay for us to be physically apart and still be together. Even though we were happy, I was still me—my Berlin Wall was still in place and self-destruction was never far away. Lucky for me, Colby Sanders was never far away and Bennett showed me nothing but understanding.
My father’s ghostly presence, though, had appeared very little since the Wallace Lake case ended. I trusted that he would be back when I had a case large enough to warrant his help, but for now he appeared to be in retirement. In his absence I’d realized he was right yet again—I didn’t need his help as much as I thought. I was certain, though, that my dad would have loved my new home, and he would have taken on remodeling projects with gusto. He would have loved the crickets that sang to me on my early morning runs and the complete blackness of the country night as much as I did. He would have encouraged me to spread out in the wide-open fields of Springrock and explore the thin country roads that wound like ribbon throughout the surrounding forest. Most of all, my dad would have been happy to see my roots growing deeper into the rich Ohio soil.
In many ways, I’d come home to Springrock. That bungalow brought me full circle to what balanced me most: water. Sometimes the currents of the deep river and lake were peaceful and calm. Other times they roiled with angry whitecaps and raged against their hard stony edges. There was no way to ignore the living presence of the river in Springrock, and I listened for its quiet guidance every morning. Those rolling waters anchored me, a lifelong companion that sometimes saved me, sometimes threatened me, but remained the constant element in my life and had never forsaken me.
About the Author
Meredith Doench teaches writing at a university in southern Ohio. Her work has appeared in literary journals such as Hayden’s Ferry Review, Women’s Studies Quarterly, and Lumina. She served as a fiction editor at Camera Obscura: Journal of Literature and Photography. Her crime thriller, Crossed, was a silver winner for the 2015 IndieFab Book of the Year Award in Mystery. Learn more about Meredith at: www.meredithdoench.com.
Books Available from Bold Strokes Books
Forsaken Trust by Meredith Doench. When four women are murdered, Agent Luce Hansen must regain trust in her most valuable investigative tool—herself—to catch the killer. (978-1-62639-737-8)
Her Best Friend’s Sister by Meghan O’Brien. For fifteen years, Claire Barker has nursed a massive crush on her best friend’s older sister. What happens when all her wildest fantasies come true? (978-1-62639-861-0)
Letter of the Law by Carsen Taite. Will federal prosecutor Bianca Cruz take a chance at love with horse breeder Jade Vargas, whose dark family ties threaten everything Bianca has worked to protect—including her child? (978-1-62639-750-7)
New Life by Jan Gayle. Trigena and Karrie are having a baby, but the stress of becoming a mother and the impact on their relationship might be too much for Trigena. (978-1-62639-878-8)
Royal Rebel by Jenny Frame. Charity director Lennox King sees through the party girl image Princess Roza has
cultivated, but will Lennox’s past indiscretions and Roza’s responsibilities make their love impossible? (978-1-62639-893-1)
Unbroken by Donna K. Ford. When Kayla and Jackie, two women with every reason to reject Happy Ever After, fall in love, will they have the courage to overcome their pasts and rewrite their stories? (978-1-62639-921-1)
Where the Light Glows by Dena Blake. Mel Thomas doesn’t realize just how unhappy she is in her marriage until she meets Izzy Calabrese. Will she have the courage to overcome her insecurities and follow her heart? (978-1-62639-958-7)
Escape in Time by Robyn Nyx. Working in the past is hell on your future. (978-1-62639-855-9)
Forget-Me-Not by Kris Bryant. Is love worth walking away from the only life you’ve ever dreamed of? (978-1-62639-865-8)
Highland Fling by Anna Larner. On vacation in the Scottish Highlands, Eve Eddison falls for the enigmatic forestry officer Moira Burns, despite Eve’s best friend’s campaign to convince her that Moira will break her heart. (978-1-62639-853-5)
Phoenix Rising by Rebecca Harwell. As Storm’s Quarry faces invasion from a powerful neighbor, a mysterious newcomer with powers equal to Nadya’s challenges everything she believes about herself and her future (978-1-62639-913-6)
Soul Survivor by I. Beacham. Sam and Joey have given up on hope, but when fate brings them together it gives them a chance to change each other’s life and make dreams come true. (978-1-62639-882-5)
Strawberry Summer by Melissa Brayden. When Margaret Beringer’s first love Courtney Carrington returns to their small town, she must grapple with their troubled past and fight the temptation for a very delicious future. (978-1-62639-867-2)
The Girl on the Edge of Summer by J.M. Redmann. Micky Knight accepts two cases, but neither is the easy investigation it appears. The past is never past—and young girls lead complicated, even dangerous lives. (978-1-62639-687-6)
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