Along Came December

by Jay Allisan

  “One of your staff?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “They all have passcards for the rear door after hours. Everything locks up automatically at 7.”

  She rose from her chair and started for the door. I hurried after her and caught her arm. “Let me.”

  I edged out from behind the reception desk, my hand straying to my gun. I went to the window and peered through the blinds. I rolled my eyes. “It’s okay. It’s just my partner.”

  I unlatched the door for Paddy and held it open. “You could have called.”

  He brushed past me. “Could’ve. But I didn’t.” He nodded to Mrs. Weatherbee. “Thank you for your time. Someone will be back to continue in the morning.”

  “I’ll continue now,” I said.

  Paddy folded his arms. “You’re off the clock. Patel’s got fresh people on surveillance and everybody else is on respite.”

  “I’m still good for another—”

  “No you’re not. Let’s go. I’m driving.”

  He picked up the stack of files I’d printed and stalked out the door. I bid Mrs. Weatherbee a quick goodnight and hurried after Paddy, just about crashing into him when he pulled up short. He shoved the files into my arms. “Keys. I’m driving.”

  I juggled the files awkwardly, trying not to let them fall. “No thanks.”

  “Keys. Now.”

  I shot him a glare. “No.”

  Paddy unclipped the keys from my belt loop and stormed toward the sedan. I had to run to catch up. “What the hell, Paddy? Why are you here? And why don’t you drive your own car?”

  “Don’t have it.”

  “Why not?”

  “‘Cause Max dropped me off.”

  The files spilled out of my arms. Paddy opened the passenger door. “Get in. You and me are gonna talk.”

  PADDY DROVE north, away from Old Town. He didn’t talk. He didn’t say a single word. Not until we hit the freeway and he could lay on the gas. Then he said, “You fucking lied to me.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “You gonna do it again? You gonna pretend with me like you did with Max?”

  “I told you it was my fault,” I said sullenly.

  “Yeah, well, you left out the part where you’ve been stringing him along!” Paddy jerked the wheel to pass a tractor trailer and I slammed against the door. He shook his head. “Years, Shirley. You’ve been lying to him for years, making him think you wanted what he did. You know what that did to him? You got any idea how fucked up he is right now?”

  “I know he’s hurting,” I said, quiet. “I know he’s—”

  “You don’t know a goddamn thing. He’s depressed. Meds, therapy, the whole shebang.”

  Paddy blew past a minivan, throwing me against the door. He might as well have run me over. “Depressed?” I whispered. “Max?”

  “Makes me fucking sick I missed it all this time, and it makes me fucking pissed you did this to him. I mean Jesus, Shirley. Two minutes into the conversation and he’s breaking down over how you stabbed him in the back.”

  I sucked in a breath as sharp as knives. “He said that?”

  “‘Course he didn’t. He’s got it all turned around so it’s his fault.”

  “It’s not his fault.”

  “Damn right it’s not, but he’s the one paying the price. He’s trying so hard to get it together. Therapy every single day, and Tish got him volunteering with the after school program at Martin Luther King. That’s how he met Kimmie. Spending time with those kids was supposed to help him, and now look at what’s happened. He’s blaming himself for her, too.”

  “I’ll find her,” I said. “I’ll bring her back—”

  “And what? That’ll make this all go away?”

  “Goddammit, Paddy, what am I supposed to do? I don’t know how to fix this!”

  “Sure you do. You’re just scared.”

  Paddy took his foot off the gas and eased the car to the shoulder. He shut the engine off. He got out of the car and came around to my side, opening the door. “I’m done yelling at you. Come on.”

  I followed him to the front of the car, sitting on the hood when he did. We listened to the sound of traffic, muted out here on the city’s edge. The engine was warm but I still shivered.

  “I know you think I’m being an ass,” Paddy said. “But it’s only ‘cause you’re being a bitch.”

  I nodded. I couldn’t argue with that.

  “It was really shitty what you did to Max,” he said. “Really fucking shitty.”

  “I got it,” I muttered. “Will you get to the point?”

  “You fucked up, but I know you’ve got a reason. That doesn’t make it okay, but I know you got a reason. There’s something you haven’t told him.” He watched me. “Something that’s got you scared.”

  I looked away.

  “If you wanna talk about it I’ll listen. No one’s gonna hear anything out here.”

  I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face in my arms.

  “That’s fine too. I’ll talk and you listen.”

  The car rocked as Paddy shifted his weight. I heard the hiss of his lighter, and then smoke wafted toward me on the breeze.

  “I told you this morning Max wasn’t gonna leave you,” Paddy said, “and I still think that’s the truth. He’s in a real bad spot but he still loves you. Said it to me about a million times. He’s trying to find a way to get through this, but he doesn’t understand why you lied to him. He thought you trusted him, and yeah, that one he did say. He feels like he failed you.”

  I rubbed my eyes. The fucking smoke was making me cry.

  “He’s not gonna leave you,” Paddy said again. “He’s gonna try to make it work. But you gotta give him something, Shirley. You gotta tell him why you lied, or you’re gonna lose him anyway. Max can’t handle this kind of thing. It’ll smother him. And I know that’s not what you want.”

  I shook my head.

  “Say it.”

  “That’s not what I want.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I love him.”

  “Because what?”

  “Because I love him!”

  “I know.” Paddy put a hand on my shoulder. “I know.”

  The car dipped and rose as Paddy got to his feet. I looked up. His expression was somber.

  “I’m gonna get back in the car now,” he said. “I’m gonna turn on the radio. You’re gonna stay out here where nobody’s listening, and you’re gonna practice what you’ll say to Max. When you’re ready, you’re gonna get back in the car and I’m gonna drive you home. Understand?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “You’re the only one who can fix this,” Paddy said. “I know you love him and I know you’re scared. But you gotta find a way.”

  He climbed back in the car and I heard the radio come on, its faint music the only sound in the quiet night. I looked at my hands, still hugged around my knees, and watched my engagement ring twinkle in the dark. I looked at the sky, looked for the twinkle repeated tenfold in the stars, but I saw only smog. I listened to the radio change tracks, then change tracks again. A commercial for a dinner cruise. One for a real estate agent. One for a dog breeder, with children laughing in the background.

  The freeway stretched deep into darkness. I looked for the stars but saw only smog. I got back into the car.

  24

  I STOOD outside the apartment, my key motionless in the lock. No light seeped beneath the door. No sound bled through the walls. No reason to think he’d be awake. He would be tired. It had been a long day.

  I turned the key delicately and slipped inside. He’d be tired. It wouldn’t be fair to wake him up. I was tired too. I’d talk to him in the morning, or maybe tomorrow night. Maybe we’d have found Kimmie by then.

  I slipped off my shoes and made my way down the short hall. Past the kitchen. Past the bathroom. As I approached the bedroom a lamp came on in the living room. Max was sitting on the couch.

  He rose slowly
, fidgeting with his hands. He tucked them in his pockets and took them back out. He folded them across his stomach. He looked down.

  “I…” He swallowed, forcing his eyes back up. “I have to tell you something. Can we sit?”

  I nodded, not trusting my voice. He waited for me to sink onto the couch before sitting again. He rubbed his palms on his pants, then carefully, so carefully, he took my hands. My breath caught.

  Max bowed his head. “I want to apologize,” he said quietly. “I’ve been unfair to you. I haven’t been honest, and I’ve been too distant. I’m sorry.”

  He lifted his eyes. “I’ve been depressed. I’ve been going to therapy in the mornings and working with kids in the afternoons, and I’ve been using it as an excuse to avoid this. To avoid you.”

  He must have seen something on my face, because he squeezed my hands urgently, saying, “And that was wrong of me, Shirley. I was wrong. I thought if I had some time it would be easier. But the more I missed you the harder it was to come home.”

  “Max—”

  “Please, just let me finish. I have to…” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he looked at me again he was determined, though his eyes were bright with tears. “Shirley, you are my family and I don’t want to lose you. I want you to know that I love you, no matter what, and if you don’t—” His voice broke. “And if you don’t want kids then I accept that.”

  He shut his eyes, tears spilling over. I lifted my hands to his face. “Max…”

  He pulled away, scrubbing hurriedly at the tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  I laid my hands on his cheeks and he quieted, defeated, just looking at me. I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t live with the sorrow dulling his eyes and dragging in his bones. He’d sacrifice his desires for my sake, and I couldn’t do any less for him. I would do better.

  “I want to have kids, Max,” I said.

  He didn’t even blink.

  I smoothed his hair back. “Max. I want—”

  “Don’t say that to me,” he whispered. “Please. Don’t say that.”

  “Max—”

  “Don’t lie to me!”

  He stumbled off the couch, doubled over as if I’d stabbed him. He slumped against the wall and held his head in his hands.

  “Please,” he whispered. “I can’t take it anymore.”

  I had to tell him. God, I had to tell him. It was the only way he’d understand. I forced myself to my feet.

  “I did lie, Max,” I said quietly. “But not the way you think. I never said I didn’t want kids.”

  He shook his head, not looking up.

  “I put you off,” I said. “I made you wait. But I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I just needed more time, and I didn’t know how to tell you that. You were so excited, and you were ready, and… and I was scared.”

  I took a step forward, my heart throbbing. “Max, I…”

  My throat closed up. I coughed, swallowed, coughed again. “Max, when I…”

  The room grew fuzzy around the edges. I reached for the couch to steady myself, but my hand just kept reaching and reaching and I couldn’t find it, couldn’t… when had it gotten so cold? “Max—”

  He caught me as I tipped sideways, easing me onto the couch. “Sit down, just… good. It’s okay.”

  I was gasping. “I want—I want—”

  He draped a blanket across my shoulders. “Deep breaths, Shirley. It’s okay.”

  “Max, I just want to be a good mom,” I blurted, and then I was sobbing, curling into a ball. “Max—”

  “I’m here,” he said. “I’m right here.”

  I had to tell him. I had to explain. But all I could do was cry, and when he wrapped his arms around me I thought I would burst. He was so good to me.

  “Sorry,” I whispered, when I’d quieted down.

  Max stroked my hair. “It’s not your fault.”

  “Yes it is. It’s always been my fault.”

  “Shirley⁠—”

  I sat up, shrugging the blanket off. “I want to have kids, Max, I do. But I was just—I’m just scared, because…” The words dried up. I swallowed. “I’m just scared because…”

  “It’s okay,” Max said. “You don’t have to say it.” He looked at me sadly. “I think I know.”

  My breath froze. He said, “It’s your mom, isn’t it? You’re scared that you’ll be like your mom.”

  He touched my cheek, his eyes deep with sympathy. The truth itched in my throat but I couldn’t say it. He waited for my confirmation, willing to understand, ready to forgive. All I had to do was nod. So I did.

  Max pulled me tight against him. “Oh, sweetheart, you won’t be. You’re nothing like your mom.”

  I put my arms around his neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

  “It’s okay. I should have realized. I’m sorry too.”

  “I’ve been thinking about this a lot,” I said quietly. “And I’m scared, but I think… I think I’m ready. I want to do this.”

  “It’s okay, Shirley. You don’t have to. I never meant to pressure you, and I understand—”

  “I’m ready. I want to do this. For us.”

  Max cupped my face hesitantly. “Are you sure? Don’t say yes if you’re not sure.”

  I managed a smile. “Are you trying to talk me out of it?”

  “I just can’t handle…”

  “You won’t have to. I’m saying yes.”

  He stared at me, tears welling in his eyes. “Yes?”

  I took his hand in reassurance, for him but also for me. I could do this. For Max I’d find a way. “Yes.”

  I smiled, and we moved at the same time, bridging the gap, closing the distance, joining together for the first time in a lifetime. He kissed me hungrily and I kissed him desperately, both of us struggling to undress. His hands were strong and familiar on me, his scent as clean and fresh as I’d remembered. I leaned back against the couch and he leaned into me, until there was nothing between us.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  “I love you,” I said.

  He put his lips on mine and took my breath away.

  WE RODE together to work the next morning, the first time in a month. Max drove, one hand on the wheel and the other fitted comfortably to mine. He looked lighter, freed, his mouth curving upward in a content little smile. He kept sending me glances that made me wish we could have lingered in bed. All I wanted was to be with him after being apart for so long.

  We joined the day shift in the parade room for debriefing, standing off to the side when there weren’t two chairs available. Max slipped his arm around my waist just as Paddy stepped through the door. He took one look at us and choked on his coffee. I gave him the finger and he raised his mug in salute, smirking.

  Soon Shapiro was at the front, bringing everyone up to speed. No results from last night’s surveillance, but we’d continue to monitor the transport hubs. Tips from the Amber Alert were still coming in, though nothing had yet proven useful. A sketch artist had created a head-on portrait of our suspect, which would be released to the media today. Lieutenant Patel would hold a press conference at noon to try and scare the kidnapper into showing himself.

  “Rather than fleeing the city, we believe he’s gone to ground,” Shapiro said. “We believe this is not an isolated incident. Sergeant Mordecai, Detective Mordecai, if you would be so kind.”

  She lifted one stenciled eyebrow and gestured for us to join her. Max and I looked at each other in confusion but did as instructed. I elbowed Max to go first. He took my hand.

  “The workshop fire that killed Ray Hart was incendiary,” he told the room. “The garage’s interior was saturated with paraffin, and the remains of cigarettes found outside the garage door suggests the use of a cigarette-and-matchbook combination as the heat source. Once Ray was in the garage, the suspect would have lit the cigarette, inserted it into the matchbook, and slid the matchbook beneath the door. When the cigarette burned down and the matchbook c
aught fire, the entire garage went up, and Ray had no way out.”

  Max paused, no doubt thinking about Kimmie. I gave his hand a squeeze. He squeezed back and continued. “While the method is simple and the materials used are easily obtained, the size and severity of this fire indicate an experienced arsonist. We need to look through previous arson cases for similarities that will lead us to our suspect and to Kimmie.”

  “Sergeant Mordecai will head up this branch of investigation,” Shapiro said. “We will also be reviewing the Center’s discharged cases. Detective Mordecai will explain.”

  I recounted last night’s theory, Max gripping my hand harder the longer I talked. When I’d finished Shapiro said, “If we are indeed looking at the actions of a serialist, an increase in media attention may frighten him and flush him out. Our top priority remains surveillance on all transportation hubs. Check in with your supervisors for assignments. Dismissed.”

  No sooner had she said the words than Max spun on me, stricken. “Oh my God. You think there’s more? How could there be more? What could that mean? Oh my God, what if it’s human trafficking? What if someone’s taking kids and selling—”

  “There’s no evidence of that,” I said firmly, though there wasn’t anything to the contrary, either. I gave him a hug. “Let me worry about the files, okay? You concentrate on the arson angle.”

  “Will you let me know if you find something?”

  “Of course.”

  He sighed, resting his forehead against mine. I leaned in to kiss him. “I’ll see you for lunch? Cafeteria grilled cheese? I’m buying.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Shirley. I’ll see you then.”

  I CAUGHT up with my team in the office, just in time to catch the tail end of Dixon’s briefing and a significant look in my direction. “Shirley will maintain communication with the arson investigation,” he said. “The more information the better. Keep me in the loop.”

  I waited until he’d gone before dropping into my seat. The files I’d printed off at the Center were stacked on my desk. Chair wheels rattled against the floor, and then Paddy was breathing down my neck.