Shades of Truth

by Sandra Orchard

  Ethan was so much like Dad in his interactions with the youth. Ethan had been amazing with the former residents they’d interviewed—genuinely empathetic, truly gifted at drawing out their stories and helping them recognize the positive changes in their lives. She could easily see herself falling for him.

  Okay, okay. Maybe she’d already fallen just a tad.

  Based on what she knew about him, anyway. If she was going to go around kissing him, she wanted to know a lot more first. And she knew exactly who to ply for information.

  “Mom, I need to talk to Joy for a few minutes. Don’t leave without me, okay?”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Kim kissed her father’s bristly cheek. “I love you, Dad. I’ll see you later.”

  A pang of guilt caught her in the chest as she left the room. Her father was dying and everything he’d worked so hard to establish was at risk, and here she was getting giddy over a guy.

  Not that Dad wouldn’t want her to find someone special.

  She didn’t know who’d been more upset when Nate ended things, Dad or her. Of course, to Dad, Nate’s about-face had been unfathomable.

  Dad had always absolutely adored Mom. He liked to say that she’d saved him twice. First by pointing him to the Lord, and then by giving him her heart. And Mom’s unswerving support of Dad’s work—despite unpredictable hours—was an example Kim had aspired to.

  “Kim, you okay?” Joy wheeled herself to where Kim had slouched against the wall outside the door.

  “Hmm, yes. Just reminiscing. I’d like to talk to you, though, if you have a few minutes.”

  “Sure, is over there okay?” She motioned to the vacant chairs in the alcove.

  “Yes.” Kim perched on the edge of the closest chair, uncertain how to begin. “It’s…um…about Ethan.”

  “He’s okay, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, it’s not that.” She pictured how on-edge he’d seemed in this same spot not more than a week ago.

  “Are you two dating?”

  Her stomach fluttered at the mere suggestion. “I wouldn’t call it dating, exactly.” Dating never worked for her.

  “Something’s bothering you about him?”

  “Well, yes. I really, really like him, and yet, I know so little about him. He doesn’t like to talk about himself.”

  Joy nodded knowingly. “What has he told you?”

  “About his police work and the shooting, and that he has no family, and that he was in juvenile detention.”

  “Did he tell you how we met?”

  “You were his counselor, weren’t you?”

  “In a way. I’m so proud of how Ethan turned his life around after his time in detention. Guilt is one of the devil’s favorite weapons.”

  “He wouldn’t talk about why he was in custody.”

  The overhead lights dimmed. The PA system crackled, announcing the close of visiting hours.

  “I figured he couldn’t have done anything too bad,” Kim rushed on. “Since he was able to become a cop, I mean.”

  Even so, imagining possible scenarios ramped up her heart rate. She really had no idea what kind of guy she was kissing.

  “When Ethan’s ready, he’ll talk about that time.”

  “It’s just that something’s bothering him and I want to help, if I can.”

  “Be his friend.”

  Kim sighed. There had to be a way to coax Joy into sharing what she knew about Ethan without outright asking. “Be a friend, huh? Is that how you got over your accident? Through your husband’s friendship?”

  Joy’s eyes warmed as they always did when she spoke of her husband. “No, I met my husband a number of years later.”

  “You radiate such a peace about life despite your challenges. How did you find that?”

  “Not instantly or easily.”

  Frustrated by Joy’s vague responses, Kim took a deep breath and went for broke. “Will you tell me why Ethan went to jail?”

  Joy plopped her handbag onto her lap and rummaged through the outside pocket. “Ethan’s story isn’t mine to tell, but I will tell you how he helped me. The day he graduated from the police academy, he sent me this card.” She pulled out a dog-eared greeting card with a picture of a bouquet of roses and the words Thank you printed in block letters on the front. “When I got this note, I was going through a very low time, thinking I wasn’t much good to anybody, stuck in this chair.

  “This letter changed all that. It reminded me that when I was helping Ethan work through his difficulties, mine hadn’t mattered nearly so much. His note inspired me to start this counseling ministry. Now whenever the devil tries to make me think I’m useless to anyone I pull out Ethan’s letter and reread it.”

  Joy lovingly stroked the picture on the front of the card. The color had faded from the many times she must’ve held the card in her hands, remembering the difference her faithfulness had made in one’s man’s life.

  “Give him time,” Joy said softly. “He’s only been back to work for a couple of weeks. On top of the challenges of settling into a new police department, I suspect he’s battling doubts and worrying about how he’ll react the next time someone pulls a gun on him.”

  “Police department? Ethan doesn’t work for the police. He works at Hope Manor. That’s how we met.”

  Joy’s eyes widened. “He does? I just assumed, I guess, but…”

  A queasy feeling fingered Kim’s stomach. Why would Ethan let Joy think he was still a cop?

  “I was sure he was working on that teen overdose case. I saw him talking to the guard, and then he went into the boy’s room.”

  “He was probably just visiting him. Greg was a former resident of Hope Manor.”

  Except Ethan hadn’t known that.

  Ethan hadn’t been at the manor long enough to know that.

  Kim’s throat dried. When she told him about Greg, Ethan had acted as if the boy’s death was news to him.

  “Yes, that must be it,” Joy said. Her gaze dropped to Ethan’s card and a frown touched her lips. After a moment, she tucked the card back into her purse. “I’d better be getting home.”

  “Good night,” Kim murmured as Joy turned and wheeled down the hall. Kim stared blankly after her.

  What was Ethan doing in Greg Sawyer’s hospital room the night he died?

  Without opening his eyes, Ethan reached across the night table to snag his phone.

  “Someone’s on to you.”

  Ethan rubbed the sleep from his eyes and rolled out of bed. “Good morning to you, too, Chief.”

  “Switchboard just got a call for you.”

  “Did they happen to note the caller ID?”

  “Blocked. Any idea who you might’ve tipped off?”

  Ethan scraped a hand over his morning whiskers. “Could be Joy, the former acquaintance I told you about.”

  “Yeah? Well, don’t count on the caller being someone who’s on our side. I’ve got enough dead bodies on my hands.”

  The blunt remark jolted Ethan fully awake. Not that he ever worried for his own life. Kim’s was another matter. If someone in the drug ring suspected he was a cop, anyone who appeared to be cooperating with him would be suspect.

  He’d shocked himself as much as Kim when he kissed her. He’d tried to pull back, act professional, but when he’d seen how that hurt her, he couldn’t remain aloof. Never mind that he hadn’t planned on ever letting his heart get entangled with another woman. Not after his ex-girlfriend Stephanie had chewed up and spit out every last foolish notion he’d had that God might one day bless him with a woman to cherish.

  When he’d asked Stephanie to marry him all those years ago, she’d said there were three people in their relationship—him, her and hi
s guilt. She’d said she couldn’t live like that. But she’d merely confirmed what he’d known all along.

  He didn’t deserve her, or anyone. Not after what he’d done.

  But somehow, Kim had burrowed under his defenses. More than her unwavering belief in the kids at the manor, her respect and pride in the ones who, like him, went on to make something of their lives had started to make him wonder if Stephanie was wrong.

  Sure, he still lived with guilt. Anyone would.

  And yeah, he probably didn’t deserve a family after robbing Joy of her chance for one. But knowing he didn’t deserve one hadn’t quelled his longing for a woman to share his life with.

  A woman like Kim. A woman who radiated God’s love and mercy in everything she did.

  His alarm clock buzzed, reminding him that he had to be at work in forty-five minutes. At least he had a short shift today. He’d been up until two in the morning trawling every haunt where drug deals were likely to go down.

  He’d hit pay dirt at a beach party up at the lake.

  The kids were too baked to care that answering his questions could dry up their supplies. Blake’s name hadn’t sparked recognition with any of the kids, but Greg’s had. And Ethan had recognized two of the partiers from Aaron’s rendezvous a couple of weeks back.

  Except when he’d dropped Aaron’s name, the kids had clammed up.

  Ethan didn’t know what to make of the reaction. A few minutes earlier, they’d been happy to tell him where he could buy all the crack he wanted.

  Kim’s brother’s name had come up, too. Nothing definitive, but an angle worth pursuing.

  And he shouldn’t have any problem wangling an invitation to her home, given their kiss.

  His conscience twanged.

  After that kiss, Kim would believe that his interest in her went deeper than wanting to help save the manor. He’d stepped over the line.

  But the last thing he wanted to do was step back.

  At least, the male side of him didn’t. The cop side was telling him to cool things off before his emotions messed with his objectivity.

  He groaned. Too late for that.

  But he was beginning to think that Kim made him a better cop. Adopting her softer approach had certainly worked with Curt. If nothing else, the more time he spent with Kim, the easier time he’d have keeping her safe.

  Yes, cultivating their budding romance was a win-win situation.

  If Ethan thought a little kiss would blind her to what he was really doing in Miller’s Bay, he’d better get used to disappointment, Kim thought. He’d pretended to be so moved by Greg’s death, while for all she knew, he’d caused it. She should’ve known he was too good to be true. Most of this trouble had started after he’d shown up in town.

  Well, she intended to figure out what he was hiding.

  Using Dad’s master key, Kim let herself into his Hope Manor office and set a cardboard box on the guest chair. The smell of dusty books and Old Spice transported her back to her childhood. She used to love to sit in the giant leather armchair, swinging her legs, her feet far from touching the floor. Dad would ask her about her day and tell her stories.

  How she’d cherished the time Dad had spent with her, especially the talks they’d share over a good book. Kim drew the copy of Charlotte’s Web from the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf that filled the east wall.

  The story had been her favorite as a child, a picture of what Dad did for the kids in his care. And like Charlotte had done for Wilbur, Dad would try to help these kids to his dying breath.

  Kim cleared the sudden lump in her throat. Now was not the time for reminiscing. She needed to figure out how Ethan knew Greg, and if their connection had anything to do with everything else going on around here. She dropped the book into the box and added a couple more for good measure. If anyone asked why she was here, she’d say to clear out Dad’s things. After all, Aaron would soon want to take over the office that went with his job.

  Next, she pulled Greg’s file from the archives drawer, and then sat at the desk to comb through the documents. Greg had been a pretty good kid. From a middle-class home, he’d lived with both parents, even had a part-time job bussing tables until he was picked up for stealing a car. He’d lived in the Niagara area all his life, so the probability he’d crossed paths with a Toronto police officer was next to nil.

  Undeterred, Kim fired up Dad’s computer and retrieved Ethan’s job application, police check and letters of reference. Not only had Ethan been the youngest member of the department to make detective, he’d received numerous commendations. Not the picture of an officer who’d snuff out a boy in a hospital bed.

  Kim’s gaze wandered to the window overlooking the exercise yard. Two part-time staff were playing basketball with a half dozen level-B kids. Practicing, no doubt, for their upcoming game with the church’s youth group. The match was one of many innovations Dad had introduced to help the teens appreciate fun alternatives to hanging out on the streets.

  Curt dribbled the basketball down the court and tipped the ball over the lip of the net. As the other team maneuvered to take control of the ball, Ethan joined the game. He feigned a move to the left, then rushed right and stole the ball from his unsuspecting opponent.

  Kim walked to the window, afraid that trick was exactly the kind of move Ethan had pulled on her.

  Ethan passed the ball to Curt, then stopped midcourt and looked straight at her—or at least at the window. She shrank back, although he couldn’t possibly see through the one-way glass.

  Curt scored and gave Ethan a high five. He was doing a great job at drawing Curt out. How could she think he’d hurt Greg?

  Because he’d acted as if he didn’t know the boy, she reminded herself, and returned to the list of commendations she’d been reviewing. Ethan had done everything from jumping into a raging river to save a drowning child, to rushing into the line of fire to rescue a woman caught between warring street gangs. For the latter act of bravery, he’d gotten a medal and a bullet in the thigh.

  Kim reflected on the times he’d come to her rescue. From what she could tell, the shooting hadn’t affected Ethan as negatively as he’d claimed.

  On his very first day, he’d rushed to her aid twice. Then, when Curt had taken a swing at her, Ethan had been the first one through the door—not the sign of a man who’d lost his edge. And from the way he’d noticed Tony following them, his instincts were as sharp as ever.

  She pushed her chair back from the desk. This was getting her nowhere. What had she expected to find? Some telltale reason he’d snuff out Greg’s life?

  She shook her head. Like she’d told Joy, Ethan had likely overheard that Greg was a former resident. He might’ve already harbored suspicions of a connection between Hope Manor and the growing drug problem—the same suspicions she’d voiced the following morning.

  Suspicions he’d been quick to run with.

  Or…

  She’d been thinking Joy was mistaken about Ethan moving here to work for the local P.D. But what if Joy was right?

  Kim scrolled back through Ethan’s résumé. He hadn’t just been a street cop. He’d been a detective. A detective. So…maybe he was working for the local P.D. Undercover.

  It explained everything. Why he’d formed an attachment to her so quickly. Why he’d been uncomfortable around Joy…afraid she might blow his cover. Why he went to see Greg.

  Kim stared at the screen, a sick feeling welling in her throat. He had to be undercover.

  Not once had he acted shell-shocked—his reason for quitting.

  He’d acted like a cop. And she hadn’t questioned his behavior because he’d been a cop. From the first day, he’d lured her into working with him, claimed he wanted to help her save Hope Manor. What a fool she’d been. Hadn’t she learned anything fr
om Nate’s betrayal?

  Ethan had to be investigating the drug problem. And whatever he hoped to find wouldn’t save Hope Manor.

  It would destroy it.

  The government would latch on to any excuse to shut down the place. And here she’d confided in him, believing he wanted to help her, believing he cared, believing…

  What did it matter now? The drug trade had to be stopped.

  She shut down the computer and picked up a photograph of Dad cutting the ribbon at the opening of the manor’s new workshop. She traced his smile. He’d poured his heart and soul into this place. They all had.

  And she’d let him down.

  Oh, Lord, there’s got to be another way to stop them. I can’t let Ethan destroy all the good Dad’s done. I can’t.

  She set the photo back on the desk and strode straight to the exercise yard. The lunacy of confronting him here roared in her ears even as she scanned the players on the basketball court.

  But Ethan was gone.

  Then chaos erupted in the yard and all thoughts of confronting him flew out of her head.

  ELEVEN

  “Yard, now!” Kim’s call blasted over the walkie-talkie on Ethan’s hip.

  His blood went cold. Kim wasn’t supposed to be in today.

  Propelled by the thought of someone getting to her inside Hope Manor, he raced to the door. “You stay here,” he barked to the college kid manning the unit with him, and then sprinted for the yard.

  He jammed his key into the exit door lock, but it wouldn’t budge. Through the narrow window he couldn’t spot Kim in the clutch of boys circling something near the perimeter. Shouts knifed through the walls. The boys closed ranks as Ethan wrestled with the lock. He burst through the door and plowed through the mob, praying he wasn’t too late.

  Within the circle of jeering boys, Darryl and Tony hauled an arm-locked kid to his feet.

  Ethan’s gaze thrashed through the crowd. Spotting Kim, he exhaled and headed straight to her. “Are you all right?”