Casio shrugged. “Whatever. Where to now?”
“I’m taking this to the lab.”
“Good luck with that. You think they’ll ever get to them? I called over there this morning. They haven’t even looked at them yet.”
“Ten-year-old murder cases aren’t exactly at the top of their list of priorities. I’m going over there to try to speed things up.”
Casio’s phone buzzed and he picked it up. “Yeah.” He slid his fingers through his hair. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Everything okay?”
“My dad again. Burt called.”
“A little early in the day, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Lots of early drinking going on today.”
“I don’t follow.”
“I’m just blowing smoke. I have to go.” He grinned. “Let me know if the lab gets on that DNA. I’m ready to crack this case.”
He wasn’t the only one. Vic got into his car and merged into traffic. He hated to go home. Despised the idea. Instead, he turned toward the office. Pulling an all-nighter at work was definitely preferable to going home to a house without Claudia.
Harper
Harper knew she was every kind of fool. She walked inside the dimly lit bar and squinted as her eyes adjusted. Casio had called her, and like an idiot, she had responded to the urgency in his voice. His dad had fallen at Burt’s, and Casio couldn’t get away from work for a little while. Would she please just go? There was no one else for him to ask.
Burt looked up from the bar and waved. “Hey, haven’t seen you here in a while.”
She smiled. “I’ve been busy. Where’s Gabe? Casio asked me to come see about him until he can get here.”
He jerked his head to the door in the corner. “Passed out in my office. I thought you and Casio were splitsville.”
“We are. I’m just doing him a little post-splitsville favor.”
He chuckled. “You’re a good woman. Casio’s an idiot to let you go.”
“No more of an idiot than I am.” For being here at his beck and call. She lifted her hand. “I’m going to go see Gabe.”
There was something nice about the familiarity of this place. Not that she was a drinker. But coming here with Casio after a long day, feeling strong by his side and proud that every woman in the bar knew he had chosen her. Casio was gorgeous with his dark hair and nearly black eyes, and when he’d looked at her, Harper’s insides went weak. For some crazy reason, he’d only had eyes for her.
The last three nights she’d dreamed of him. The way he pressed his palm to the small of her back and guided her through a maze of people in any room. The way he kissed her earlobes and pulled her close as though no other woman could possibly exist for him.
Even as morning dawned, the dream ended, and reality battered her—blow after blow like the beating she’d endured, she still ached for him.
And when he had called, because he needed her help, she had responded willingly. She opened the door and stepped inside the little office. It reeked of stale ashtrays and was in dire need of a good dusting as well as a good airing out.
Gabe sat sideways on the couch, definitely not passed out, but with his ankle propped on a couple of sofa pillows. “Look at that ankle. It’s swollen up like a softball.”
Not only was the ankle swollen, it was beginning to bruise. “It looks pretty bad. What’d you do?”
“Some moron left a purse sitting on the floor by her chair. I tripped.”
“I’m surprised Burt didn’t get you some ice to get the swelling down.”
“He’s not a nursemaid.” Gabe waved his hand like it didn’t matter. He didn’t even seem that drunk.
“Well, I’m not a nursemaid either, but I’m going to get some ice for that enormous ankle.” She set her purse on the desk and headed for the door.
“Hey, Dolly.”
She turned, smiling at his nickname for her. “Yeah?”
“It’s good to see you.”
“You too, Gabe. I’ll be right back.”
She walked back to the bar. “Hey, Burt. Can we get a little ice for Gabe’s ankle?”
“Sure, help yourself.”
She stuffed a gallon-sized plastic bag with ice cubes, snatched a clean towel from a shelf, and headed back into the office. She found Gabe nursing a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. “Where’d you get that? You didn’t have it five and a half seconds ago.”
“I know where Burt keeps his private stash.” He grinned like a little boy with a forbidden cookie and Harper couldn’t help but smile back. She adjusted his foot back on the pillows. “Keep this elevated and iced. You should probably get it x-rayed.”
He made a growly noise and tipped the bottle.
“You might not be hurting right now, but once all that booze wears off, you’re going to be crying like a little girl.”
A cackle vibrated his throat. “Then I best not let it wear off, eh?” He took another swig, then coughed into his hand.
Harper reached into her purse and pulled out a small bottle of liquid hand sanitizer. She held it out to him. “You have to stop smoking, Gabe. And drinking.”
He laughed again, rubbing the gel into his calloused hands. “Should I start going to church too?”
“It certainly wouldn’t hurt you any.”
“It might.” He grinned again, looking so much like Casio, her heart hurt.
“Seriously, Gabe. You have lung cancer. If you don’t start taking care of yourself.” She stopped, because she knew there was no point.
The door opened and Casio filled the doorway. His eyes found Harper’s. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Well, ain’t you two just a mouthful of words.”
Casio scowled. “What happened to your foot?”
“I tripped. Your little girlfriend is taking good care of the old man. Ain’t you, Dolly?”
“I’ve done my best.” Her heart beat so loudly in her ears she could barely concentrate. She grabbed her purse from the desk and moved toward the door. “Now that you’re here, I’m going to go.”
“Harper, wait. It’s gotten dark. Let me walk you outside.”
“Seriously? You think I’d be in danger walking out of a cop bar?”
“Humor me.”
Harper had kept her resolve for all these weeks. Now she wanted so badly to have him back. Not the brooding, cruel Casio. The funny, sensitive guy who loved to rub her feet, bring home Chinese, cook a huge breakfast on Saturday mornings and feed her in bed. She missed that man. And she couldn’t help but believe he still existed. And that a monster had overtaken the true man.
“Casio. I can make it outside by myself.” As much as she wanted him back, he wasn’t back yet. Not until he got help for the rage inside of him. If she only had herself to think about, it might be a more difficult decision to make. But deep inside of her, lying in a bed of nourishment, their child was growing.
“Harper, I just want to talk to you. For five minutes. What could it hurt?”
Was he serious? Harper met his gaze, keeping hers fixed and without the hint of softening. “I didn’t come here to talk to you, Casio. I came to help your dad. Don’t you have any respect for my wishes?”
His jaw tightened, a telltale that he’d clenched his back teeth. She knew that sight well. Her legs trembled. She knew his frustration built from that one little tic.
“I have to go. Don’t try to stop me.”
“Casio!” Gabe’s sharp tone sliced the tension between them. “She don’t want anything to do with you. Go on, Dolly. And thanks for the help.”
Harper nodded at him and slipped past Casio, holding her breath that he wouldn’t try to stop her. Burt was busy with customers as she walked by, so she hurried past the bar and out the door, feeling safer outside than she’d felt inside.
“Harper! Wait.”
Oh, God. She turned, trying not to show her fear. “Casio, please. Just let me go.”
Casio’s eyes took her in, staring at her face,
then her body. He frowned as they rested on her new curves, courtesy of the pregnancy hormones.
She drew a sharp breath. “What do you want?”
“I just wanted to let you know I’m ready for counseling.”
“Again?”
“I mean it this time.”
“You always do, Casio.” She gathered a weary breath and leaned heavily on her car. “Have you made an appointment to see someone?”
He stepped closer. With nowhere to back up to, she raised her palm to stop his advance. “Casio. Don’t come any closer or I’m leaving.”
“Fine. And no, I haven’t gotten an appointment yet. I thought you could recommend someone.” He didn’t bother with the grin. That helped, and gave her hope that maybe this time he truly meant it. She searched his eyes for truth.
“I’ve made ten appointments for you in the last year. I’m starting to lose credibility.” She looked away and then back. “How do I know you’ll follow through this time?”
He stuffed his hands inside the front pockets of his jeans. “Because … I hurt you.”
“Now you’re admitting to it?”
“Do I need to go to jail to prove to you I want to change?” He cleared his throat. “Harper, I miss you. I love you. And I’d do anything to get you back. But this isn’t just about you and me.”
“What’s brought about this change?” If that’s what this was and not some new way for him to manipulate her.
“I’ve been working on this case with ADA Campbell.”
“Yes, how is that going?”
He shrugged. “Better than when my dad had it. I don’t know how he missed half the evidence he missed.”
“I wouldn’t mention that to him.” She expelled a small laugh.
Casio laughed. “Yeah. He wouldn’t be too happy. But all in all, I think he wants the case solved. Anyway, working on the case has shown me how that night messed me up.”
Could it really be that easy? Harper couldn’t shake the doubt. “All right. I’ll set up one more appointment for you with Julia. But if you blow off this appointment, you’d better not call me again.”
Somehow, she found the courage to walk around to the driver’s side and open the door. But he was there before she could escape, and suddenly she was in his arms.
He pulled her close and she had no strength to resist. God help her, she loved him. “I know I have a lot to prove to you, baby,” he murmured against her ear. “But I promise I’m going to make that appointment and every one for as long as it takes for me to get better.”
Wordlessly, Harper wrapped her empty arms about his neck and nestled closer as hope in his words lowered her defenses. After all, this was the father of her child. If he got the help he needed, they could be a family. And perhaps if he knew the truth, he would have the incentive to try harder.
“Casio,” she whispered just as his head descended. She sighed and gave herself to the familiar feel of his warm mouth taking hers over. His hands finding the curve of her back, her hips, pulling her closer.
“Come home with me,” he whispered.
“Casio, I can’t.” He pressed his mouth over hers again, harder, more demanding, suffocating her refusal. Her body molded to his, becoming reacquainted with the firmness of his chest and thighs. His hands began to move and she couldn’t think. Didn’t want to think. Just wanted to feel.
Headlights from a car pulling into the parking lot brought them to their senses. Casio pulled back, staring down at her, passion smoldering in his dark eyes. “You have to come home with me.”
“Casio, I can’t.”
“Don’t say no,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. “I need you.”
“Your dad needs you tonight.”
“He’ll be passed out in ten minutes if he isn’t already.” He kissed her on the mouth then pulled away. “Come with me.”
Part of her wanted to agree. To shove aside the warning bells sounding inside her skull, to ignore the voice telling her to get out now and not allow herself to be swept into his arms and carried into his bed. Luckily, the door to the bar opened and a couple staggered out into the parking lot. The break in concentration gave Harper the opportunity to back away emotionally.
“I can’t. Not yet.” She stepped back.
Casio expelled a heavy breath. “I guess I deserve this. I hurt you, so you’re punishing me.”
Refusing to be sucked into a futile argument, Harper moved behind the still-open door. “Should I still make the appointment?”
He hesitated and she held her breath.
“Make the appointment. I promise I’ll show up.” He glanced toward the door. “I better get back inside. My dad is probably close to passing out. If I don’t help him out to the truck now, I’ll be carrying him over my shoulder.” He tossed her a rueful grin.
“I’ll be in touch.”
He nodded, patted the hood of her car and strode away.
Harper got in the car and closed the door. She turned the key and cranked the engine. She sat back, her body shaking as she realized how close she’d been to revealing her secret.
How could she have been so stupid?
Seventeen
“As I lay dying, the woman with the dog’s eyes would not close my eyes as I descended into Hades.” Homer in The Odyssey.
He is still holding me in his arms, and Homer’s words describe how I feel. Like I’ve suddenly been yanked from the deepest love I’ve ever known and shoved into evil’s arms. If only I could speak, I’d tell him how wrong we were.
“My wife left,” he whispers so softly that I barely hear him. “I was going to ask you to marry me on your birthday.”
“Please leave her,” Mama says. “It isn’t right that you be here.”
“What do you mean?” he asks, his voice shaking with sudden anger.
Careful, Mama. Careful, you don’t know what he’s capable of. Please be careful.
“I mean,” Mama says in that tone she uses when she pulls her shoulders square and straightens her spine, “that you’re needed elsewhere.”
“Oh my God.” He lowers me gently to the floor and moves away. “Casio.”
I feel only relief that he’s let me go. Claudia takes my hand once more.
“Are you okay, son?” I hear Gabe ask, his voice shaken in a way I’ve never heard before. Maybe it would have been okay to tell him about our baby sooner.
I hear Casio’s weak response. “I tried to save her, Dad.” Tears choke him. “I couldn’t get the gun away from him.”
“You tried to get the gun away? You idiot. You could have been killed.” Gabe berates his wounded son, and suddenly I realize the sort of man I’ve allowed myself to sin with. In a strange sort of way, I’m relieved it ended this way.
“As I lay dying, the woman with the dog’s eyes would not close my eyes as I descended into Hades.”
If only I could close my eyes.
SATURDAY
Claudia
Claudia’s nerves nearly sent her running back to her Tahoe, but the memory of last night’s dream propelled her forward, toward the two-story, red-brick home behind a neat wrought-iron fence. The yard boasted autumn perennials and neatly sculpted shrubs along the front of the house.
She wasn’t even sure the Remingtons still lived here. Once, just after BJ’s funeral, she’d tried to stop and visit, but the emotions had overtaken her and she’d driven on by. This time, despite the tingling in her jaw that so often signaled an oncoming panic attack, she shoved through the fear, the dread, and took the first step up the brick steps.
Pressing the doorbell took almost superhuman strength. Her arms felt weighted down with ten years of fear, sorrow, regret. But in her dream she remembered her promise to visit. Mrs. Remington’s grief pouring from her eyes—a torrent of tears—and knew she could ignore this moment no longer.
The door opened and a slightly older Sara Remington stood. Her eyes narrowed for only the time it took to smile in recognition. “Claudia King! What a beauti
ful woman you’ve become.”
Her words slid over Claudia like a warm, gentle rain, washing away her fear. In a beat, she found herself wrapped in Mrs. Remington’s slightly plumper arms, pressed against a soft breast.
“It’s Claudia Campbell now,” she said, as the woman pulled back and held her at arm’s length.
“Just as pretty as ever.”
Claudia shook her head. “Not so much.”
“That’s a matter of opinion. Come inside,” she said, opening the screen door and allowing Claudia to precede her. Predictably, the home smelled like a happy welcome—pumpkin spice, fresh linen, smoke from a fireplace, though there was barely enough chill in the air to warrant the latter.
“Your home is lovely,” Claudia said, walking straight into a living area. Wood floors with a round, braided rug seemed old-fashioned, yet homey and inviting. The coffee table was a little cluttered with paper and strewn magazines and needed a good dusting. But the comfort of the atmosphere made up for a little messiness.
Mrs. Remington’s cheeks flushed a little as she noted Claudia’s perusal. “Please excuse the mess. My son has been home from college, and things always get a little messy when he’s home.”
Claudia stopped short. She knew BJ had been an only child. She didn’t want to pry, but it seemed like an odd thing for Mrs. Remington to say when Claudia knew better. Instead of questioning, she smiled. “Your house is wonderful.”
“Would you like to come into the kitchen?”
Realizing she’d been standing in the middle of the room, Claudia’s face warmed a little. “Yes ma’am. Thank you.”
“Have a seat, please.” She walked to the counter and lifted a plate of muffins. “Pumpkin chocolate chip. Just came out of the oven. Will you have one with me?”
“Sure. I’m not turning down anything with chocolate chips.”
The older woman smiled brightly. “How about some coffee or tea?”
“Coffee’s fine if you already have it brewed.”
Claudia watched her. She had to be around sixty, but her face didn’t show her age—something Claudia reflected on, considering the grief she’d experienced. Losing her only child. But then …
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