by Glynna Kaye
“No, no, I can take it.” She relieved him of the bag and set it on a nearby table, then stared at him with what could only be described as suspicion.
Okay. Apparently the old Wallace charm held no sway with this meek young woman. “Does your pastor happen to be in? Jeb, is it?”
Her eyes brightened, and Gray recalled his sisters mentioning they suspected the new secretary, who’d come to Grasslands last summer, was sweet on the preacher. Seeing her sudden glow, it sure made him wish he could put a gleam like that in Elise’s eyes when his name was mentioned.
“The pastor is Jeb Miller. And no, he’s not here.” Her words had no more been uttered when her eyes rounded in alarm, as if realizing she’d admitted to a strange man that she was in the building utterly alone.
“Do you know when he’ll be back?”
Her eyes darted away from his. “Any minute now.”
“Do you mind if I wait?”
“You don’t have an appointment...” she said weakly.
“No...but I hoped he’d have a few free minutes.”
“You’re the policeman from Fort Worth,” she blurted, her tone almost accusing.
Small towns. “I am.”
“You’re moving here. Joining the sheriff’s department.”
He chuckled. “Not that I know of.”
“That’s good. I mean—” Her face flushed.
“Is my being here making you uncomfortable? I don’t have to wait for Pastor Miller.”
“No, it’s not you. Not personally.” Her hands made a fluttering movement. “It’s just—well, police make me nervous.”
“Nothing to be nervous about. Even in uniform, most folks think I’m a pretty good guy.” He gave her his most winning smile. “Unless they’re on the wrong side of the law, of course.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m not suggesting you’re not a perfectly nice gentleman.” Her hands at her side made the agitated, fluttering motions again, almost as if readying for takeoff. “You see, when I was small, my father had a number of run-ins with the law. I know it sounds silly, but policemen are a reminder of that. The breakdown of my family.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He spoke gently, sensing this wasn’t an easy thing for her to admit. “But from what I hear, you’ve found yourself a substitute family among the church membership in Grasslands.”
He didn’t mention the pastor’s name specifically, but she blushed again. “I have at that.”
“Well, what do you say I mosey on out of here and plan to catch the good pastor next time I’m in town. I’ll call ahead. Promise.” Goodness knows he didn’t want to upset her fragile world any more than he had to. Violet hadn’t exaggerated when she said the church secretary was a nervous Nellie.
He nodded a goodbye, then paused. “You mind if I take a peek inside the sanctuary?”
The fluttering again.
“I understand,” he offered, to set her mind at ease, “that this is where my sisters plan to get married. My brother, too.”
“Oh, yes. Certainly. Come this way.”
He followed her through the double doors and stepped inside the hushed space, sunlight streaming from the tall windows illuminating rows of wooden pews.
Beautiful setting for a family wedding. Or three.
But why, in spite of circumstances to the contrary, did his inner eye envision Elise Lopez, gowned in white satin and lace, gracefully coming down the carpeted aisle? Her long hair draped over her shoulder. Yellow, beribboned roses clutched in her delicate hands. Sparkling eyes focused
on him.
“In your dreams, Wallace,” he muttered under his breath as the vision faded.
“Excuse me?”
His face heated. “Uh, sorry, Sadie. Talking to myself. Thanks for letting me take a look. Perfect place for a wedding.”
He couldn’t get out the door fast enough.
Chapter Nine
“Officer Grayson?”
He immediately identified the young voice on the phone, then glanced at his watch. Ten p.m. He’d just gotten home from the visit to Grasslands. “Cory?”
“Yes, sir.”
He must have gotten the number from the business card he’d given him. But it was too much of a stretch to think his mother instructed him to call for a late Sunday night chat. Something must be wrong. “Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know.”
Elise’s son sounded confused. “Tell me what you do know, Cory.”
Even over the phone he could hear the boy inhale deeply, as if he had a lot of ground to cover.
“Billie Jean pounded on the door and woke me up. She was crying. Sayin’ somebody broke into her house. Mom told me to stay here with the doors locked. She went downstairs, but it’s been hours and hours and she hasn’t come back.”
Gray’s shoulders knotted. “You’re okay there? Doors locked?”
“Yes, sir. There’s a police car now. I can see the lights.”
“Stay right where you are, okay? Don’t leave the apartment. I’m on my way.”
Within minutes of securing Cory’s promise, Gray was out the door and headed for the freeway. He’d said a cruiser was already there. So why had Elise not returned to her apartment? Hours, Cory had said. If he had his squad car, he could clear a path through the too-slow traffic and give the gas pedal the pressure his pounding heart demanded.
When at last he pulled up in front of the fourplex, a single squad car was still parked on the street, several handfuls of curious onlookers milling around in the yard. A quick glance confirmed Cory, silhouetted in a second-story window, had remained inside as instructed.
He wove his way among the bystanders to a spot in the yard where a uniformed officer was deep in discussion with Billie Jean and a man he assumed to be her husband. He spied Elise, off to the side in the shadows, and stepped in behind her to place his hand gently on her shoulder. Startled, she turned to him.
“Grayson. What are you doing here?”
He wasn’t sure how receptive she’d be to his presence after Friday night’s abrupt parting, but her voice held a note of relief, not opposition to his arrival.
“Cory called me. He said there’d been a break-in and that you’ve been away for hours.”
“Hours?” She glanced at her watch. “It’s not even been one.”
“Apparently it felt longer to him.” Gray tugged on her sleeve to move her well away from the inquisitive spectators. “So what happened?”
“Billie Jean, Roy and the kids were out of town all weekend. When they returned, they found the back door had been jimmied and was standing wide open.”
“Did they lose a lot?” A family in this neighborhood couldn’t afford to lose much. Doubtful they’d have household insurance on any of their belongings.
“They took a DVD player Roy got her for Christmas last year and the laptop the kids do their homework on. A few other electronics.” Items that could be quickly disposed of at a less-than-scrupulous pawn shop. “Billie Jean guesses their uninvited guests were mad about the slim pickings, so they trashed the place.”
“You didn’t hear or see anything?”
She shook her head. “No, but I’m a pretty sound sleeper.”
“Any leads yet?”
“He’s not saying much.” She motioned to the police officer. “Mostly asking questions.”
“Let me ask a few myself.” Reluctantly, he left Elise’s side to show his ID and confer with the officer. There wasn’t much to share at this point. A routine breaking and entering. Theft. Closets ransacked. Drawers dumped.
Not nice, but it could have been worse had someone been home.
When he finished with the police officer, Elise was nowhere in sight, but he suspected she’d gone back upstairs to be with Cory.
Within moments he was knocking at the apartment door, sensing when she confirmed his presence through the peephole—and her reluctance as she at last opened the door.
“Cory doing okay?”
She nodded and he noticed a weariness in her usually sparkling eyes. “It will take him a while to settle down but he’s fine. I’m terribly sorry he called you tonight and you had to make a trip over here for nothing.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s for nothing. At least I’ll be able to sleep tonight knowing you two are safe.”
Her gaze flickered momentarily to his and he gave her a reassuring smile—which she didn’t return.
“Thank you.” She took a step back as if preparing to close the door.
“Elise?” She wasn’t going to like what he had to say, but he had to say it anyway.
She paused, eyes wary.
“Don’t you think it’s about time you and Cory got out of this neighborhood?”
Her chin lifted slightly, but she didn’t look like she had a whole lot of fight left in her. “Didn’t we have a similar discussion Friday night?”
“Not much of one as I recall. But I think this break-in warrants a reopening of the subject.”
“Our home wasn’t broken into. It’s not likely to be since our apartment is on the second floor.”
But the other night he’d noticed the back door accessed a minuscule deck. He took a step closer. “The neighborhood is deteriorating more quickly than it may have appeared when you first moved in. Now’s a good time to start looking elsewhere.”
“Thank you for your concern, but—”
“I can help you find something suitable.” He’d recognized the unmistakable glimmer in her eyes. That independent don’t-tell-me-what-to-do look. But surely she’d listen to reason. “I have the means to check out neighborhoods behind the scenes and confirm which ones are low-crime areas.”
She gave him a tolerant smile. “I’m fully aware of where the low-crime areas are. But a move isn’t an option right now.”
His own chin jutted. “Pardon me for being blunt, Elise, but why not?”
* * *
Heart pounding, she stepped into the hall and pulled the door partially closed behind her. Cory was tucked into bed, but she didn’t want to risk him overhearing.
“This is an affordable neighborhood, close to work and Cory’s school.”
“Get a new job. Put him in a new school.”
He made it sound simple. Within reach. Made her sound dimwitted. He meant well, but he had no idea...
“Let me be blunt, too.” She folded her arms to prevent him from glimpsing her shaking hands. “I have a high school education. No advanced degree. Outside of part-time jobs in high school, I have no experience beyond the year and a half at the clinic where I now work.”
“You’re taking coursework, though, right?”
“I’m a long way from a degree. In this economy, it’s difficult to find a position that earns a living wage and doesn’t involve night or fluctuating shifts. I need to work weekdays so I can spend as much time with Cory as possible.”
“Commendable,” he said with a brisk nod. “But where does his—and your—safety fit into the picture?”
“We’re...we’re trusting God to take care of that.”
Was she? Was she really?
“I’m all for trusting God.” Grayson’s tone remained firm, but she sensed his frustration. “Nevertheless, He does give us a head on our shoulders. Common sense.”
“I assure you I do have common sense. However, I can’t financially manage a move right now. I’m hopeful for a raise after the first of the year. If that comes through, maybe I can look elsewhere. Besides, I’m also under a lease.”
“A lease that’s not keeping its part of the bargain can be broken.” He motioned to the hallway’s ceiling. “I suspect this place isn’t even up to code. Do you see any smoke alarms? I didn’t notice one inside the other night, either. The officer downstairs told me Billie Jean’s place doesn’t have deadbolts. I doubt yours does.”
“I’m sure Mr. Morgan will install one now.”
“All I’m saying is—”
“I know what you’re saying.” She reached for the doorknob. “I thank you for your concern.”
“Elise—wait.” He took a step toward her. “I’m trying to understand why the widow of a police officer lives in a place like this. I mean, I know the life insurance plan is decent. Surely at one time you had a home.”
“Please, Grayson.” She blinked rapidly, sensing a betraying moisture in her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“If there’s a hang-up with payout, a legal snafu, I can find someone to help you. The insurance company can be forced to make good.”
“I know you want to help, but it has nothing to do with the insurance company.” She gently bit down on her lip to stop its quavering.
She thought she’d been handling everything well since Duke’s death. That she’d been a tower of strength for her son. But Cory had seen through that facade and had been negatively affected by it. With the home of her dear friend being broken into, the hopelessness of her own circumstances and her long-buried anger at Duke hit her full force.
Not only the anger, but the confusion. The guilt. The doubt that she even had enough faith to warrant God hearing her voice when she cried out to Him.
Please forgive me, Lord...but I’ve got to tell someone.
“It has to do with...” she cleared the lump forming in her throat “...my husband.”
Gaze intent, Gray shook his head, not understanding. And why should he?
She leaned against the door frame to steady herself. “He...he had a considerable debt.”
“Debt of a level that cost you your home, the life insurance pay out?” He stared at her in disbelief. “What’d he do, gamble it all away?”
She slowly drew in a lungful of air. “Yes.”
Stunned, his gaze searched hers as the truth sank in. “But surely...I mean, even if he gambled, there would have been something—”
“There wasn’t. Trust me.”
His hands fisted at his sides, his words taut. “You’re saying your husband literally gambled your and your son’s future away.”
She hated hearing him put the ugly truth into words. But as she’d repeatedly reminded herself the past two years, Duke had no idea what he’d done to her. He never would have let it go so far had he known he’d leave this world before he could make things right.
He loved her. He loved Cory. But...
“He enjoyed horse racing.” Her words echoed hollowly, as if coming from a great distance. “When he started going in the hole from lost wagers, he took out personal loans from the bank under the guise of other purposes. Then from friends and acquaintances—and others—to cover the loans. He got another mortgage on the house and—”
“Why didn’t you stop him?”
Startled by the softly spoken accusation, her lips trembled. “I didn’t know.”
“How could you not know?”
She blinked back tears, her hand tightening on the doorknob as she turned to make her escape. She shouldn’t have said anything. He didn’t understand. He blamed her.
* * *
Shame washing through him, Grayson grasped her arm and turned her to face him. Tear-dampened eyes met his. Oh, man. He’d badgered her like a cop interrogating a suspect, and now he’d made her cry. What was wrong with him?
Before she could protest, he slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close and wishing his left arm was unfettered by its restrictive sling. With a soft cry of surprise, she willingly melted into his embrace, her body trembling against the sturdiness of his frame as she sobbed into his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Elise.” He held her against him, w
arm and soft, but even in his grief at having pushed her over the edge, his heart hardened toward her husband. Some hero. Saved his buddy and went out in a blaze of glory, but he’d reduced his own wife and child to near poverty. Stolen their future. Possibly endangered their lives. What kind of man would do that to his family?
Minutes passed...and he held her. Just held her, his head resting against hers, her soft hair brushing his cheek. And he prayed. For her. For Cory. For what he should say—and shouldn’t say. He’d already said enough to hurt her. As much as implied that her situation was her own fault. That she could have done something to stop her husband’s downward spiral. He’d said enough to ensure she’d steel herself against him once she regained control of her shattered emotions.
He didn’t need to suggest that if her husband loved her and Cory, he’d never have allowed this to happen. He might think it himself all he wanted, but he had no right to inflict that judgment on the woman cradled in his arms.
After an almost eternal stretch of time, she pulled slightly back and looked up at him. Uncertain. Embarrassed. For a long moment, they stared into each other’s eyes. Silently communicating a mutual surprise. A curiosity. Attraction.
Hardly breathing, he could only gaze at her resting in the security of his arm. His chest rising and falling under her fingertips, he tilted his head and drew in a slow, anticipatory breath.
“Mom!” wailed a familiar, childish voice from somewhere deep within the apartment. “Where are you?”
* * *
“By the way, Maddie, have you sublet your apartment yet?”
Grayson had got on the phone first thing the next morning before he left for work, fighting his way through the haze that had enveloped him since the previous night. He’d come close to kissing Elise. Close enough to still feel the frustration of a longing unfulfilled.
Startled by her son’s cry, both he and Elise had stepped out of the tender embrace. She’d frantically wiped at her eyes, then blew her nose on his proffered handkerchief before ducking back inside the apartment. Neither uttered a word.
He’d stood there alone in the hallway for a full minute. Dumbstruck. When had he ever let a woman rattle him like that?