The box was retrieved and put safely in the detective’s car.
“Oh, Prince,” Cindy cried out when she saw the extent of the damage to the now-crumpled Aston Martin sadly abandoned by the aged Volvo. “The damage looks horrible. I’m so sorry. I know how you love that car.”
He smiled. He had his priorities straight. “I do love that car. And it’ll be replaced, one way or another. But it doesn’t matter, Cindy. There are more important things that can’t be replaced. And that’s what counts.” He made arrangements for it to be towed out of the park.
“Want a ride, Highfield?” asked the detective with a grin. “Now that you don’t have your James Bond wheels?”
Prince grinned back. “No, sir. I’m not in the mood to ride in a police car, even as the guest of Philadelphia’s finest. I’m going on the Harley.” He stuck out his hand, and shook the cop’s hand with feeling. “Thanks, Detective. I’m forever indebted to you. I mean it.”
Detective Clark smiled. “Just doing the job, Highfield. And you two make a good team. See you at the station.” And then he was gone.
Only the two of them were left in the park.
“You mean it? You’re going to ride with me on the Harley? Have you ever ridden a motorcycle before?” Cindy grinned wide, her helmet on her hip.
“Never. But I learned how to ride a bus, so I’ll tackle this.” He jerked a thumb at the cycle. “You’ll be gentle?” Prince heard her joyous laugh as he climbed on behind her, and the bike’s engine roared.
He slide his hands around her waist and held on for dear life.
****
“This is just what we need to put them all behind bars.”
Detective Clark smiled and rubbed his hands together like a child in a candy store.
“This whole incident was all about the letter Jimmy mailed to you, including his own confession, and all the information we needed to break a city wide burglary ring. Some will be charged with the death of a security guard on a job gone wrong two years ago.”
A veil of sadness settled over Cindy, thinking of Jimmy’s short and tragic life. What had he gotten himself into? And what had been the cost?
“Sit and read this, Cindy. The letter explains a lot. I think it’ll help,” the grey-haired detective advised.
Prince took her hand, and let her to a seat in the well-worn vinyl chairs across the room.
So she sat in the corner of the police station, the quietest she could find in the normal bustle of the place, and settled in to read Jimmy’s letter to her.
****
“Dear Cindy,
I’m writing this letter for many reasons. You never know, from one day or another, what’s going to happen in the war here. So whether I make it back or not, it’s important to me you know the truth about my life, how bad I messed up, and what I want to do about it.
While I was using drugs and drinking too much, I got involved in some bad stuff. I have been clean and sober since before I enlisted. Now it’s time to clean up the other messes I was involved in. When one of the robberies went bad, one of the guys shot a guard. That’s what woke me up. No way could I pretend that was okay. But the gang didn’t want me to quit when I wanted out.
So I cleaned up, and went into the army. I’m doing a good job here, Cindy. Both you and your sister would be proud of me. I wish there was a way to make it up to her, to let her know how sorry I am.
I’m changing my life. And when I come home, I’ll face whatever I have to face there, and make it right for the kids. I promise. I’m really sorry for the mess I made.
But like I said you never know about war. So I’m sending this information home, so I can know it’s over, and you and the kids are safe.
Take the information in this envelope to the police, and they can sort it out.
I hope the day will come when I can say this to you in person, Cindy, but just in case, here it is. Thank you with my whole heart for loving my kids. Tell them I love them. Tell them their dad messed up, but then grew up and was real sorry and wanted to make it right. For them. Morgan and Hannah. Because I love them more than anything in the world. And I loved their mom. And she loved them. And I’m really sorry for how things worked out.
Jimmy
****
Cindy sat, struggling to breathe. Sadness enveloped her, making the sights and sounds around her dim, like they were coming from a distance. Prince put an arm around her shoulder, and pulled her close, and she reveled in the solid, strong feel of him.
“I’ve got you, Cindy, I’ve got you,” he said softly.
She leaned close, marveling that he had sensed the strength go out of her body. As if he could sense the numbing sadness coursing through her bones, he held her.
Her face pressed against the pressed cotton of his shirt, feeling the texture, smelling his scent. And then, as he held her, she cried for all the losses, sobs wracking her body.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Over the next few days, the remaining pieces of the puzzle fell into place. All the gang members were gathered up, and once cornered, each “sang like a bird,” especially to clear themselves of the murder charge. That event was pinned on Hank Peters.
Each admitted they received a letter from Jimmy overseas, as he cleaned up his past. He told them to turn themselves in, he was sending the information “home” to make things right. Not realizing she had moved, he’d sent the letter months before to Cindy’s old address. He probably never imagining the delay would end up leaving his family in danger all this time as Hank Peters searched for her and the letter.
The second letter, written by Benedict Highfield, Jimmy’s commanding officer and Prince’s older brother, was read. The missive had been proudly framed and hung in the living room. As much as Jimmy had failed in his early life, what he said was true. He died a hero, and a good soldier. Cindy felt great joy to know the kids could have that symbol of pride about their father. Some day, she knew, the official letter would mean a lot.
But today…today Hannah and Morgan could enjoy the peace of knowing they were safe and loved. Butterflies took flight in her stomach at the thought. Today Prince was picking them up, and they were going to an Eagles football game.
The doorbell rang. She looked out the window at the bright sunny fall day, calling up to the kids. “Hannah, Morgan, come on down. Prince is here and it’s time to go.”
Excited little feet pounded down the stairway.
“It’s Prince, it’s Prince!” They jumped up and down, yelling, as she opened the door.
“Look, Prince,” Morgan exclaimed, proudly pointing at his chest. “I’m wearing my Eagles shirt.”
“Me too,” said Prince, pointing to his own shirt. “And look, I got my new car!” He pointed over his shoulder.
Cindy’s mouth dropped open. Parked at the curb was a brand new, bright red minivan, shined and polished, with two car seats installed in the back. “You own that? You bought it? A minivan? For real?” Her eyes widened.
“I did. I do. And I figured out the car seat thing, too. If we’re going to be a family, we have to travel in comfort and style!” His mouth curled up into a crooked smile.
“See? The Prince can change!” He paused, then put his fingertip under her chin, and raised her face so he could look directly into his eyes. “But one thing that won’t change, ever, Cindy Castle, is the fact I love you. I’m committed to you, and to these kids. Forever.”
Her heart soared, finally without doubt or worry. With this man, she would dare to believe in that lifelong love. And she wanted it. She needed it. And felt the same kind of love for him.
“I love you too, Prince Highfield,” Cindy whispered and spotted contentment in his face. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him close. “You are an amazing man. But aren’t you going to miss the excitement of your James Bond car?”
“No. But that is not to say I’m going to turn into a dull version of Princeton Highfield. I have new things to explore. New experiences to face. And I go
t this—”
He reached behind his back, pulling out a shiny black motorcycle helmet. “I figure we won’t always be driving the van. So I got my own helmet. If my Princess is a motorcycle mama, this Prince is going to keep up. I shall be your knight in shining helmet.”
She laughed, and kissed him right on the lips, ready for a lifetime of love he promised. Fairy tales do, it seems, sometimes come true.
A word about the author...
Christine Bush has been a story teller forever. Cindy’s Prince is her tenth published novel. In her own eclectic life, she enjoys a medley of many things. Along with being a writer, she is a part-time college professor and family therapist, and a person who absolutely values her time with her fantastic family and friends in Pennsylvania.
With a belief that love is the glue that gives life a firm foundation, and that growth and change are what makes life exciting, her stories reflect hope and joy and happy endings.
Christine believes that everyone has a story they need to tell, whether fiction or nonfiction, and she loves to encourage people to find their voice.
Christine loves to hear from readers and aspiring writers.
Visit her website at www.ChristineBush.com
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